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stevenose · 2 months

Text

being so normal (18+)

a continuation of this series of blurbs (untitled, adidas, puppy grin)

contains: steve x reader; shy!reader; reader with a vagina; gender neutral pronouns used for reader, but good girl is used once; oral; fingering; blue balls :/

you really shouldn’t have smoked. but when eddie offers it for free, you take it.

because now you can’t stop looking at steve. you’re fixated on him like a moth to a flame. he’s the only thing in the entire bowling alley you care about. maybe if you were sober that would scare you - but also, if you were sober, you wouldn’t be looking.

everyone’s talking about something. steve included. you watch his brows furrow gently while jonathan tells a story about getting too stoned in california. how his pink lips quirk up and then fall flat again. his brown eyes all soft before they narrow when robin makes a joke at his expense.

and his nose. it slopes downward so straight. like it was sculpted. pink from the alcohol beginning its course through his system. there’s a tiny little freckle on his nostril that you want to kiss.

you want to kiss him. it’s so overwhelming that it’s almost painful. you’d love nothing more than to crawl over the table separating you and kiss him til he’s breathless. til his face is red and his pupils are blown. til his hands grip bruises into your hips. til there’s spit trailing between you two. til it trails down lower, down towards your aching, needy -

you’re snapped out of it when eddie slams his ringed hand down on the table in front of you, making you jump.

your brows crinkle together comically slow. you feel like you just woke up. “huh?”

“does steve have somethin’ on his face?” eddie asks again, smiling big.

“i don’t see anything,” jonathan adds.

you falter. “what?”

it must be physically painful for steve to not look smug over this. you wonder if he knows you were staring. his eyes meet yours and you feel dizzy all over again, so needy and so yet nearly fearful of his attention.

he’s a much better actor than you.

steve waves his hand, looking away from you, brown eyes focusing on the bar. “we all stare when we’re stoned.”

“maybe i just think he looks funny,” you finally say, which seems to be sufficient enough. eddie guffaws loud enough to hear over the music and jonathan slaps steve’s back.

“i’m gonna get you for that,” steve says, in a tone so casual it shouldn’t make your stomach flip, but it still finds a way to.

“gonna make them car sick again?” nancy asks. her eyes feel like they’re boring into the side of your face. like she knows something. it makes sweat bead at your hairline, pulse quickening when she raises her brows at you for a second.

and as the men leave to get drunker, nancy and robin sit staring at you. you play with the sweating edge of your glass of ginger ale, bouncing your leg.

robin’s the first person to break the silence. she swats at you, expression somehow irritated and elated. “how stupid do you think we are?”

“what are you talking about?” you deadpan.

“come on,” nancy huffs.

you point to the monitor above your table. “it’s your turn, rob.”

“how long have you been sleeping together?” nancy presses.

you gawk and you hope, despite knowing that nancy wheeler is the smartest person in a one hundred mile radius, that she’s falling for your innocence. “why on earth do you think we’re…?”

“oh, seriously?” robin scoffs. “you can’t even say ‘fuck’?”

“no, really,” you urge, knee bouncing faster. “why do you think we’re doing something?”

“you’ve been getting rides from him,” nancy points out.

“he has driven me somewhere three times in six months,” you amend.

this seems to make them short circuit, opening their mouths to protest but unable to find any ammo. you’re pleased with this.

“and by your logic, then robin must be having sex with eddie.”

robin groans, repulsed. “that’s gross!”

“how do you think i feel?”

“then why were you staring at him?” nancy asks.

you reach for your ginger ale, taking a long sip. “he’s cute,” you settle on. “so what?”

“if you aren’t doing something, do you want to?” robin continues. “i can, like, totally help you out here if you do.”

“robin,” you grit. “enough.”

as grueling as it is, at the very least, this behavior reinforces why you didn’t want to share your situation with steve in the first place. everyone is so nosy - and the only one who really has a right to be is robin. if you’d let it slip that you were being intimate with steve, she’d be furious that he didn’t tell her. but this makes you feel worse for hiding it, and you feel a little sick as you take another swig of your drink.

“well, if you’re not doing anything,” nancy says slowly. “and if his driving made you sick, and that’s why you pulled over, then you wouldn’t mind jonathan and i taking you home. right?”

you blink. “right,” you reply after a pause.

she stares, unwavering. trying to make you break. “so jonathan and i will take you home, then.”

you nod. “right,” you repeat.

nancy’s so goddamn petty, you think, watching robin finally get up to bowl. totally ruining your impending orgasm, again, just to prove herself right. you were so looking forward to riding steve’s nose. you try your best to not look irritated as the game continues, even as the boys come back, eyes ignoring steve’s - well, ignoring steve’s everything. you act like his entire existence is meaningless to you until he finds you in the hallway leading to the bathrooms, half drunk and messy.

“heyheyheyheyhey,” he coos, grabbing you by the waist, pulling you in to his chest. your body becomes overwhelmingly hot at his attention all over again. "c'mere."

"steve," you squeak, "we can't -!"

but he pulls you into the bathroom anyway, pressing you against the door and twisting the lock until it clicks. his mouth is on yours before you can protest, kissing long and sweet and serene. you melt for half a second before turning your head to the side.

"steve," you breathe, grabbing onto his shirt while his lips trail down your neck. "steve, we can't - they're on to us -"

"i know," he says between kisses, annoyed. "jon and eddie wouldn't shut up about it."

you open your mouth to protest but a moan comes out instead.

“oh, there?” he asks, breathless, attaching his lips to your sweet spot.

“steve,” you moan, breathy and low. “we can’t - they’ll - they’ll kn-know -“

he sighs and pulls away, pouting. “what were you looking at me for earlier?”

you’re a little speechless under his gaze. “why do you think?” you whisper.

he licks his lips. “i think someone here’s upset they didn’t get to cum.” one hand rests firmly on your hip, the other snaking around to the small of your back.

you’re trapped. deliciously so.

“and i think you were thinkin’ about how good my nose feels on your clit.”

you shiver, staring at the collar of steve’s shirt.

“that true?” he asks softly.

“not - not totally.”

“well, do you want that?” his thumb plays with the waistband of your skirt, clawing at it, wanting in. “want me to make out with your pretty pussy again?”

overwhelmed, your eyes fall shut. “nancy - nancy’s taking me home.”

steve falters, eyes going soft. “is everything okay?”

“she’s on to us,” you repeat. “thinks if we aren’t doing anything then i wouldn’t mind going home with her. so - yes, i’d really love that, but i don’t think tonight-“

but steve drops to his knees, like you aren’t in a public restroom. his hands push your skirt up, exposing your still drenched underwear to him. you open your mouth to ask what the hell he thinks he’s doing, but his tongue is on you before you’re able to finish your thought.

“oh!”

steve’s fingers keep your underwear pushed off to the side - his prize of the night now stolen from him. if he could, he’d send you back out there with your pussy on display, your underwear tucked safely into his back pocket. but he’s a gentleman, so he resigns himself to snag a pair from you next time.

he always assumes there’s a next time.

“we - they’ll - find out,” you pant, knees weak, your hands reaching down to push his hair away from his face.

steve laughs, pulls away, licks his lips. “do you really think i can’t make you cum in five minutes?”

you hold onto his hair in a white knuckled grip, tugging, listening to him pant and moan beneath you. his tongue licks delicately up your folds before he sucks at your clit, kissing it, flicking his tongue out. then he ducks down a bit, lets his nose rub against your swollen bud while his tongue fucks you.

“oh my god,” you moan, eyes rolling.

“do you want them to know?” he asks, voice thick with you.

you realize you’re being too loud, but it’s impossible not to be. steve brings you to rapture in ways you never thought possible. you never thought it was possible with him. his pretty face between your thighs begs for you to praise it, to let everyone in this goddamn dive know what he’s doing to you.

“you have three minutes,” you shoot back, panting.

“yeah?” he presses a kiss to your folds. “aren’t i supposed to make you pay for teasin’ me earlier?”

white hot electric shoots through you. “n- no.”

steve laughs, raising a hand so his thumb can rub circles into your clit. you sigh, trying desperately to still your shaking legs. “don’t have to let you cum, y’know. could just wait and see how desperate you can get for me. see if i can get you to hump my leg.”

he doesn’t need three minutes. he needs one more minute, needs his dirty mouth running, needs to make you feel like a pervert, and that’s all it takes. his mouth engulfs you just as you’re cumming, lapping you up, moaning as he tastes you.

“shit,” he gasps, pulling away, chest heaving. “wish i had an hour with you.”

you still don’t look at him as you ask, “what would you do if you had an hour?”

“stretch you out on my fingers,” steve answers immediately. “wanna see how well you could take ‘em if we had the time. if that’s okay,” he adds.

you nod, swallowing hard, dizzy. “that would be very okay.”

“you think i could?” he’s still not getting up. “you’re so tight on my tongue, bet it’d take an hour to get two fingers in you.”

but he’s going to try now, his fingers creeping back up your thighs and between them where you’re sensitive and halfway to dripping.

“we don’t have an hour,” you remind him.

steve just hums, using his free hand to part your legs. he’s begging with his eyes. “but we have a minute, right?”

your head falls back against the door with a quick mhm.

“you’re so cute,” he muses, the tip of his middle finger teasing your entrance. “so beautiful, you know that?”

you want to scream. “i did not.”

“must not tell you enough then, huh?” if you looked down you’d see the absolute adoration in his eyes. “sorry about that, angel.”

steve still isn’t trying to push inside of you. he’s just watching, staring up at your pretty face, the way it twists, your lip quivering. it’s so fun to play with you. he could do this all night but he knows he has about five more seconds until you remind him of the time again.

“please?” you finally whimper.

“good girl,” he beams, sliding his finger inside of you, nice and slow. it’s a stretch for certain, making your mouth fall open in silent rapture. steve drinks you up, afraid to blink and miss something. “so tight, honey. don’t think i’ll ever be able to fuck you.”

you clench around him. “you want to?”

“do you?”

you nod, suffocating.

“yeah?” he says softly, pumping his finger once, twice, in and out of you. “gonna need more space than the car.”

you really aren’t listening. you nod vaguely, trying not to be too needy and roll your hips downwards.

his movements still. “what if i came over tonight?”

now you’re listening. you let your chin fall forward to look at him. “really?”

“yeah.” his hair bobs as he nods, his face turning pink. “get to take my time with you.”

“nancy’s taking me home,” you remind him.

“i’ll come after you’re dropped off. if you want.”

you nod quickly. “mhm. yeah. i do.”

it’s a major loss when he slides his finger out of you, but the sweet kiss he gives you makes up for it.

“clean up,” he says gently. “i’ll be out here.”

your eyes follow his fingers the rest of the night.

#steve harrington smut #stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #i’m obsessed w him ;/

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okkalo · 9 months

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wrong move

sae x reader

genre: fluff

sae has no clue why you’re mad at him. sure, he’s an asshole sometimes, he admits, but he didn’t even say anything bad? besides, aren’t you supposed to be happy after eating? why’re you still mad?

he could only glare at your back, which was a sight you gave him whenever you purposely ignored him, while you brushed through your hair. you had been ignoring him ever since you both visited his parents, which had been a couple of hours ago. how long could you go for? he couldn’t help but feel annoyed.

“why’re you upset?” he finally asked, breaking the silence that had been surrounding the both of you for hours.

“nothing—.”

“shut up and tell me the real answer.” he quickly cut off your attempt to avoid the situation. you let out a deep sigh, now turning around to face him while acting like it was a bother.

“why’d you tell your parents that?” you asked, frown on your lips as you watched his deadpan expression turn into a mix of confusion and disgust—an element he liked to add in a lot of his expressions.

“tell them what?” he was now scanning his brain for all the possible things he could’ve said wrong, but none came to mind. his ignorance only made your frown deepen. how could a man who has been remarked as a genius of his sport be so dumb?

“why’d you tell them i was hungry?” you now crossed your arms, the same upset expression on your face that had sae contemplating if you were serious or not. his brows furrowed further, causing a slight scrunch of his nose that you bit back an awe to.

“what?” he had to ask, pondering if he had heard you right.

“sae, i’m serious.” you indirectly answered, showing that you hadn’t been joking with him.

“because you told me you were hungry?” he was biting back every insulting nickname that came to his mind because he knew that would just make you more upset. but, man, he couldn’t help but feel a “dumbass” would perfectly explain his thoughts.

“yeah, and then they went and did all of that just for me!” you spoke as if you had caught the male red-handed in a serious crime. sae was still confused. before he could speak another word, probably one that would just annoy you more, you took the honors from him. “you’re supposed to say that you’re hungry too or something.”

sae didn’t know what to do. if he spoke he wouldn’t be able to hold back his sharp tongue and he couldn’t do any physical moves here, that would just be dumb. so, he stayed silent with his furrowed eyes staring at you. it would’ve been awkward had you not found his expression and silence funny. you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, your frown lifting only a bit before you silenced yourself.

“so, you’re joking?” he asked after seeing your smile and hearing your giggle.

“no! you made me look bad in front of your parents, sae!” and we’re back to square one.

“so you would’ve rather starved?” he rebuttals.

“you’re missing the point, sae.” he only sighed at your words, getting up from the bed and walking over to your vanity to where you had been seated. he stopped right in front of you, his left hand grasping your jaw to where his fingers indented the skin on your cheeks.

“you’re the stupidest person i’ve ever met,” he claimed before leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips. your annoyance was long gone at that moment, caving under his touch and gaze, despite his words being mean. once he parted away from your now wet lips, he saw you looking up at him with that smile he always deemed “dumb”.

“stupidest isn’t even a word, stupid.” his deadpan immediately turned into a glare, a sight that had your smile widening.

“shut up.”

unedited thanks for reading!

#wait till y/n finds out stupidest is a word #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #blue lock sae itoshi #blue lock sae #bllk sae itoshi #bllk sae #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader

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fushigujiro · 10 months

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𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍

꒰ ☆ ꒱ — onyankopon wants to leave your ass ashy<;/3

includes; fluff, kisses, slight suggestive and ony being an ass but you love him<3 just a small drabble ficcy icky

“nuh uh baby, yous a big girl, use your words” onyankopon smirks as he stares at you trying to get the shea butter container from his hand. you just came out the shower and all he wanted was some kisses! until you said after your creamed your skin to which he took offence too and is now holding the cream high from your reach..as in hes literally holding it to the ceiling with his tall ass .

“lemme cream my skin babe!” you frown and hold your towel around your body firmly as you jump up trying to get it but it was no use. he’s just standing there, one hand up still holding the butter with the other on his waist just staring down at you with amusement in his eyes.

“give me a kiss girl” he leans down and puckers his lips but only receives a lick from his chin to his nose. he moves away from you in shock? staring at you with shock and covering his mouth in confusion…

and shock.

you stand there giggling and he deadpans at you. “see now, i was gonna give it to you but since you wanna be all funny and shit, you can stay there till your skin turns ashy” you gasp and he grins

“i don’t wanna be ashy ony”

“i know you don’t”

“i hate you”

“you love me” he winks and you huff, crossing your arms and tapping your foot on the ground. “ony, can i cream my skin! it’s getting dry!” you stomp your foot and fuss but all he does is laugh at your childish antics.

“nah you’re good, it’s fine if you have ashy legs baby- shut up talking to me” you grit and he laughs louder, still keeping the butter out of your reach.

“just give me a kiss then i’ll let you cream your skin” he bargains and you roll your eyes before puckering your lips. he smiles brightly and lean down to give you a sloppy kiss, putting a hand around your throat and you moan against his lips in both affection and surprise. he was deadass about to add tongue too but you opened your eyes and see that he lowered his hand so you separate your lips from his to jump and finally grab the butter! now you run away to the bathroom giggling like a maniac

he grunts and watches you run then starts running right after you but it was too late. the second your body was in the bathroom, you slammed and locked the door behind you panting slightly

“LET ME CREAM MY SKIN” you yell from behind the door and he chuckles, already missing the feeling of your lips.

“you cheated” he puts his hands on his waist and you snort. “i’ll kiss you more after now go sit somewhere you nasty animal” he rolls his eyes playfully. “i think i’ll stay out here and wait till you open that door” you giggle and start creaming your skin as he stands there leaning against the door with his eyes closed listening to the soft sounds of the speaker that plays from inside the bathroom with you. it went from low volume to high, the songs playing was ‘been away’ by brent fiyaz and can also imagine you dramatically singing along.

the door swings open and there you are with shorts and his tank top on. he licks his lips and eyes you up and down making you snort.

“want some vaseline?” you chuckle and walk to him to wipe his bottom lip softly. he rolls his eyes and brings you close to him just to kiss you once more. you wrap your arms around his neck while his arms go around your waist, a hand trailing down just to squeeze your ass and make you squeal.

“you so nasty” you push his head away and run towards the bed where you collapse on it, him trailing behind you and collapses on you too.

“ONY! you’re heavy man damn!” you whine and he just laughs at you, kissing all over you face. the music still play from the bathroom and it’s just you both on each other, and staring at one another softly.

“i love you“ you whisper, nudging your nose with his own and he smile, pecking your lips and shoving his head into your neck so he could hug you tight.

“i love you more baby”

“still can’t believe you’d let me get ashy wit yo bitch ass”

“you ruined a perfectly loving moment woman”

#—ʚɞ fushi’sbibliotheca..!!#anime x black!reader #black reader #x black fem reader #aot x black reader #onyankopon x black reader #x black reader #onyankopon x black!reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon snk #aot x reader #aot #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x black reader #attack on titan

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rae-writes · 5 days

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part-time

N.M || 0.8k || some romcom for a man I don't even have any solid thoughts/feelings on but the inspo slapped me in the face. violently.

You would think that after attending Yuuei for three years now and being classmates for said three years with dumbasses like Denki Kaminari, Kirishima Eijiro, and Izuku Midoriya (yes, class 3-A’s golden boy. You just have to catch his dumbassery at the perfect time) that you would learn to…not engage in their ideas that lack common sense.

But either you haven’t learned or you just don’t have any self preservation, because that’s exactly how you got here:

Pulling open the door to the infirmary, mumbling curses under your breath (still grinning, might you add— it had been funny as shit, even if you got a sprained arm for the trouble). Though, as you looked around, Recovery Girl didn’t seem to be around.

But Neito Monoma was.

“Oh, fuck no.”

Listen, you honestly didn’t have a real problem with Monoma. He was just…

A prick. All because your class starts with an ‘A’ and had its fair share of spotlight encounters (mainly with villains— all of which were highly unwanted, thank you very much).

“It’s so good to see you, too, Y/n.” Monoma’s annoyingly condescending voice managed to come out sickly sweet, immediately making you turn around and start to go right back out the door.

But unfortunately, he’d caught sight of your swelled arm- which had started to bruise pretty badly- and stopped you from relieving yourself of his presence.

“Now, now. I am here assisting our lovely Recovery Girl and I can’t just have you leaving while still injured, that would make me look like I’m not doing my job.”

You deadpanned, reluctantly sitting on the edge of one of the beds. “No offense, and by that I mean full offense, but I’d rather just walk it off than let your lips come anywhere near me.”

His copy quirk is what allowed him to help out as a healer in the first place— and Recovery Girl’s quirk healed by kisses. You’d be damned if you were letting him have the privilege of kissing even a sliver of your skin.

“Oh my, so rude. You’re breaking my heart.” His grin was a little too smug, but Monoma couldn’t help it. He’s had a stupid crush on you since year one: this opportunity was just too perfect.

Not that he would ever admit it. Especially the part where his heart was fucking racing faster than Iida could run right now.

“Good. Perish.” you groaned, looking away with an apprehensive frown. Your arm was starting to hurt as the adrenaline slowly wore off and…you did come all the way to the infirmary to get healed…

Was it weird that your heart was thudding in your chest? You barely even knew Monoma, for fucks sake, he was just…an academic rival at best.

‘And pretty.’ Your brain supplied. To which you promptly told it to shut up…which it didn’t, because Monoma’s pretty face was currently all up in your business.

“That arm of yours looks painful. Are you really too prideful to be healed by me? That’s not a good heroic quality, you know.”

He sincerely hoped you would cave before he just started begging— and the embarrassing part is, Monoma wouldn’t have to even think twice about it. That’s how..tightly you have him wrapped around your finger.

“Shut up. You’re one to talk about pride, smug bastard.” Your words didn’t really have the bite that you intended- and you could feel your cheeks starting to burn- so with another colorful curse, you relented.

“Fine.”

Except no kiss came after your agreement. You’d even tensed up your arm in preparation for his touch but there was nothing. That was funny— he was so smug just a second ago and now he’s all quiet.

“Monoma, are you gonna heal me or not-“

As soon as your head turned towards him, his lips pressed against yours. It was as shocking as seeing Bakugo Katsuki be nice, which was pretty damn high up on the ‘what the fuck is happening’ list.

But it felt…good.

Monoma himself was surprised, not at his actions, but at your own: the reciprocation of his kiss (when he was so sure you’d pull away and knock his block off), the way your hands- both of them now that your arm was healing- had cupped his jaw, pulling him closer.

It was like the room was spinning, but..softly. With warmth being woven in, making you feel fuzzy starting from the tips of your toes and moving all the way to your fingertips.

When the kiss finally broke, it was quiet, only unsure breaths filling the air. Oddly enough, he felt nervous and had to fight the urge to apologize.

“Well? How was that for healing?” Is what came out of his mouth instead.

And you didn’t even have a witty response to give back, too dazed and flustered to even care at that second.

“Do it again…still hurts.”

‘Academic rivals’ be damned.

inspo credits:

(I found the text post on Pinterest so I just screenshotted it because who knows how old it may be oasjihrugoajfk but their user is still the same: @energon-with-a-curly-straw)

#mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #bnha x reader #monoma x reader #monoma neito x reader #neito monoma x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha drabble #bnha drabble

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islesnucks · 2 years

Text

Show you - Mathew Barzal x Reader (4+1 fic)

A/N: its here!! barzy fic with a lot of romcom influence and a bunch of taylor swift lyrics references

Word count: 7.2 k

Warnings: mention of alcohol, mention of illness (nothing serious but just in case) and there's one scene where the reader throws up

Summary: after hearing something he shouldn't have Mat is set on proving he is serious about dating you

Masterlist

Add yourself to the taglist!!

“One date. Promise it will be worth your time.” he said followed by his signature half smirk, usual Barzal charm full of action.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I’m serious, I wanna take you out on a date.”

“You don’t wanna date me, you wanna take me to your bed because I’m the only girl here that’s not dreaming of that.” You gestured to the rest of the bar, more precisely the girl standing nearby that wouldn’t take her eyes off him. “It’s kind of childish really, the more you can't have it the more you want it.”

“I don’t wanna take you to my bed.” Pause. “At least not at first.” He corrected himself followed by a wink, and if said wink caused butterflies in your stomach you were going to deny it till you died. “I wanna take you on a couple dates first.”

You deadpanned at him. He wasn’t being serious, he couldn’t be. It was Mat after all. That’s how your relationship was: he’d jokingly flirt with you, you’d turn him down. It was a game, your little playful dynamic. It was never real.

“I’m not joking.” he persisted. His tone made you doubt, it sounded like he was being genuine.

“What has gotten into you?” He looked away, there was something he wasn’t telling you and it made you equally curious and anxious not knowing. “Mathew spill it out. Right now.”

“It was an accident, okay? I swear I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything.” The way he was nervously defending himself beforehand only made you feel worse. Your heart started racing. No, there was no way he could’ve heard that- “Last friday at Beau’s, you were talking to Emma …”

Shit. He had heard it.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.” you said, looking away as your cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“I know, I know. I swear it wasn’t on purpose, I was going to get a beer from the fridge and you two were talking in the kitchen.”

“Forget it.”

“You said you’d date me.”

“Mat, forget it.”

“You’d date me.” he repeated, as if he himself still couldn’t believe it.

“You’re missing the ‘if’. I said I would date you if you weren’t you.” You remembered it very clearly. The if that was just impossible to ignore because was essentially part of himself.

“I don’t get it.” You didn’t want to explain it, there was no point. Nothing good was gonna come out of it, nothing was gonna change.

“You’re a great guy Mat and I really like what we have, let’s just pretend I never said that and go back to normal.”

“I’m serious about this.” He wasn’t going to let it go, you knew him. But you weren’t going to simply accept, because you also knew the consequences that would inevitably follow.

To you it was no news you liked him, how could you not? Apart from his obvious good looks, he was funny and sweet and caring and many more amazing qualities that would make almost anyone like him. But you knew it could never go past that, past a silly little crush. Because apart from being all those good things Mathew Barzal was a manwhore and that was surely going to end up with you getting hurt. So you decided to ignore whatever it was you were starting to feel and to stick with the jokingly flirting, not allowing yourself to even entertain the idea of him being anything more than a friend.

“You don’t do dates.”

“I do with you.” You rolled your eyes. “Come on, you can't just rule me out like that, at least give me a chance.”

You looked at him for a second, really taking him in. It didn’t seem like he was lying or attempting one of his stunts to just take a girl home, you had seen a lot of them. Still you weren’t going to give in and he could tell the hesitation in your eyes.

“I’m not like you Mat. I don’t fool around. I’m 99.9% sure if I let the slightest thing happen between us I’m gonna end up hurt because I can’t keep things casual and casual is all you do.”

He looked taken aback by it, like he suddenly realized the reputation he had and how it could make anyone not take him seriously.

“I’m gonna prove it to you.” he suddenly said after a moment of silence. Now it was your turn to look at him in confusion. “I’m gonna show you I’m serious about this.”

Before you could analyze what he truly meant Tito arrived, putting an end to the topic.

The bar started getting more and more crowded by the minute and in said crowd, just like every other night you went out with these two, there were girls looking over at your table, looking over at them. You were already used to it, at some point Tito was going to complain about how awkward it was making him feel and how much he missed Emma, and Mat being the polar opposite would enjoy every second of the female attention until deciding which girl was going to be his catch of the night and go for it.

Tito did as expected, however Mat was still sitting by your side pretending not to notice them. You then understood it was part of his plan to show you he was being serious about wanting to date you, how serious would he look if he went and made out with another girl in front of you?

“This must be killing you.” you told him.

“What exactly?” Mat turned to look at you. He knew what you were talking about. Tito’s ‘here we go’ got lost under the noise, but his face said it all. Everyone, prepare yourself for another round of banter.

“Not being able to take any of these girls home.” you explained, even though there was no explanation needed. “That blonde one is basically throwing herself at you. You can always accept you weren’t serious about me and go with her. I won’t be offended, I swear.”

Part of you really enjoyed seeing him try to prove himself to you, being his center of attention. But you wouldn’t get your hopes up because he still was Mathew Barzal and there was a big chance, huge chance, he just wanted to get into your pants and once you put enough resistance he would simply give up and move on to the next girl who would hopefully (and probably) give in way easily. He’d probably forget about it and go back to his old ways next week.

“No thanks. The only girl I wanna take home is sitting next to me, but as I said that won’t happen before a couple dates. I’m a gentleman.” Tito chuckled, not the world he’d use to describe his friend.

“Such a gentleman.” you added, eyes squinting in annoyance accompanied by a fake smile. However his smile wasn’t fake, he was enjoying this a little too much.

“I’m getting another one. Want one?” You nodded and handed him your glass as he got up.

You watched as he made his way through the crowd to the bar, his broad shoulders pushing through the sea of bodies moving to the rhythm of the music. Faces turned when he walked by, some because they recognized him and others simply because of his looks.

“What’s that thing about proving he’s serious?” Tito brought you back to reality, your thoughts were still stuck on Mat’s shoulders.

“Apparently he wants to date me, but it’s Mat, we both know he’s incapable of anything remotely close to seriously dating someone.”

“So he finally confessed, eh?” Your brows furrowed at his comment. “Shit, he didn’t. Just forget I said anything.”

“Anthony!” you said a little too loud earning some weird looks from the people around you. “You can’t just say something like that and then tell me to forget it!”

“Ok, look I shouldn’t tell you this, but believe him. I know Barzy is Barzy, but when he says it’s you over any girl he’s not lying. Give him a chance to prove himself.”

That only made you more confused. Tito told you to give him a chance so was Mat being sincere? Did he really want to date you? No, that couldn’t be true. Tito wouldn’t just say something like that to help his friend, it couldn’t all be part of Mat’s scheme to get into your pants, could it? Were you seriously considering giving Mathew Barzal a chance? Your plan to not get your hopes up was already off to a rocky start.

Too lost trying to make sense of everything that had happened the past hour, you didn’t notice Mat was already back with one glass on each hand and a smirk on his face. You tried to shake off that weird dubious feeling that had settled in.

“One for the lady.” he said, placing the glass in your hands and then took his previous spot on the couch between you and Tito. “So, what did I miss?” He could help but notice your change in demeanor since he had left.

“Nothing.” Tito was quick to answer, but something did happen. A lot had happened.

Your head was killing you and the ringing of your apartment’s bell wasn’t making it any better. Guessing it was just a door-to-door salesman you ignored it, but a minute later there it was again. You got up, ready to tell off whoever it was that was bothering you, but before you could even talk Mat was already asking you to let him in. Extremely confused you did so, knowing there was no point in asking for an explanation over the intercom.

“W-what are you doing here?” you said opening the door only to be met by the man himself holding a grocery bag.

“You’re sick, right?” he asked and you nodded slowly, confused as to how he could know since you hadn’t told anyone.

“How did you-” The obvious answer came to mind before you even finished the question. “Emma.”

“Well not Emma exactly.” he explained as he walked into your apartment, heading to the kitchen. “Beau mentioned earlier at practice she was supposed to be hanging out with you today but you canceled cause you weren’t feeling good.”

He placed the grocery bag on your kitchen counter and started to look through the cabinets as you inspected what was inside the bag. A small smile appeared in your lips when you recognize the containers. You tried to hide it quickly when he turned around to face you but he caught it.

“So you bought soup and my favorite dessert and your plan is to what? Look after me?”

“Yeah.” he answered matter of factly. This was clearly part of his ploy to show you he was serious about you, since you assumed he didn’t show up to take care of just any girl when they were sick. “Now go get comfy and put on a movie or something. I’ll heat this up and help you with anything you need.”

You were too tired to even attempt to put any kind of resistance against his stuid plan. Plus it would be nice to feel taken care of, especially in the state that you were in. So with a simple shrug of your shoulders you left him in the kitchen and headed back to the couch.

The possibility of Mat burning down your apartment trying to heat up the soup was real, too real; but minutes had gone by and the fire alarm still hadn’t gone off. Before you knew it he was handing you a steamy soup bowl with a proud smile on his face, he was also worried about burning down the place.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Anything else I can do for you?” He seemed eager to help, to prove himself useful.

“Not that I can think of.”

His face fell. Yes, this was all to prove he was boyfriend material. Still he didn’t want to go, it felt wrong to leave you all alone when you weren’t feeling good, he wanted to be there for you. You could tell this, it was clear in his face, and truth be told you didn’t want him to leave, it was nice having him around, especially if he was willing to play your personal maid for the day. You could also tell he wasn’t going to ask to stay, he didn’t want to bother or be a burden. You’d have to ask him to stay, leaving your pride aside because at the same time you’d be helping him prove his point.

“Could you stay? You know in case I get worse and get a fever and stuff.”

“Yes, yes. Obviously.” He tried not to sound so excited about it. He failed.

At first he took a seat on the armchair beside the couch. He crossed his legs, then uncrossed them, leaned against the backrest, started bouncing one leg, leaned forward elbows resting on his thighs, leaned back again and started drumming his fingers on the armrests. Unable to find a comfortable position, he got up and started walking around the living room, just couldn’t stay still. You could hear him, feel him pacing up and down behind you, the creaking of the floor driving you insane.

“Mat?” He stopped, finally.

“Yes?” You signaled with your hand for him to come closer and he did. When he appeared again in front of you he looked worried, ready to call an ambulance.

“Can you please stop moving around? I swear all your pacing is making me feel sicker.”

“Yeah, sure.” He sat again on the armchair and finally the only thing that could be heard was the movie playing on the tv. It lasted less than a minute.

“I’m sorry. I never really took care of someone sick, except for my sister that one time but she was 10 and my mother told me what to do over the phone so it doesn't count. I don’t exactly know what to do. Do you want water? Another blanket? Tea? More soup?”

Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t all just part of his plan to prove you wrong. Maybe he genuinely cared. And maybe (definitely) your heart warmed at his concern.

“Come here.” You patted the spot next to you on the couch.

He sat but his eyes were stuck on the tv. He was being weird, weirder than usual. You took his hand, making him face you. He still looked uneasy, not the chill Mat you were used to.

“You’re doing a great job, okay? I’m already feeling better.” He relaxed a little. ”Now please just calm down and enjoy the movie. I chose one with cartoons so you could understand it.”

“So funny.” His words dripped sarcasm, the Mat you knew was back.

As the movie went on it was getting harder and harder to fight the sleep; to keep your eyes from closing, your head from falling. At one point you gave into it, closed your eyes and let your head rest on Mat’s shoulder. And if you cuddled closer into him, that happened unconsciously when you were already asleep.

Mat got tense at first. Ever since this started, this being him knowing he had the slightest chance with you, everything that once was normal between the two of you had a whole new meaning for him, made him feel and think and react in a whole new way. This wasn’t the first time you had fallen asleep on him. Okay, yes, the previous times were because you were too bored or too drunk at some party and needed somewhere to rest your head; you were in the middle of the club or someone’s place surrounded by people. Now it was different, you could’ve laid against the armrest but you laid against him, and you were alone in your place. It felt intimate. It made him feel anxious or maybe nervous, he wasn’t sure what he felt, but it was the good kind of feeling.

You weren’t sure how you ended up this drunk. Well, you actually did but you weren’t going to admit it even to yourself yet. Tito helped you into the uber, or maybe it was Mat? You also weren’t sure about that.

At some point you got to your place. You were changing into your pajamas when you heard a noise in the kitchen. Slowly you made your way there and almost had a heart attack when you spotted a man’s figure roaming your fridge. Almost, until you noticed it was Mat.

“Dude you scared me.” He turned around confused. “I forgot I wasn’t alone.”

“You’re that drunk?” You flipped him off. “See I was getting you a glass of cold water, but if you’re gonna treat me like that I don’t think you deserve it.”

Your mouth watered at the thought of water. You were indeed that drunk. He laughed at the look in your eyes when he mentioned water and handed you the glass, which you took no time in gulping down.

“Slow down or you're gonna-” he started to say but the look in your face told him it was too late.

“Shit.” you said and rushed to the bathroom, hand on your mouth trying to at least delay the inevitable till you reached your toilet.

Mission accomplished, you made it in time but that didn’t make what followed any nicer. In no time Mat was behind you, holding your hair with one hand and caressing your back gently with the other. It just wouldn’t stop, when you felt it was over and there couldn’t possibly be anything left in your stomach to be pushed out, there it was again.

“Still wanna date this puking mess?” you were able to joke in that rare moment your body decided to give you a break between pukes.

“I wanna date this puking mess so much you have no idea.” he said and sounded so genuine you could’ve smiled had it not been the feeling of more disgusting liquid coming up your throat.

Eventually the throwing up stopped, thankfully, and Mat helped you up from your bathroom floor. He kept his arm around you as he guided you to your room, not that you needed it but you weren’t going to complain.

You let yourself fall into the mattress the second you reached your bed, too tired (and still drunk) to care about sleeping over the comforter or the position you were in. Mat’s soft chuckled could be heard behind you, making your insides tingle at the sound. It was hot, you could admit that.

“Why did you drink that much?” he asked as he helped you get in a more sleeping-appropriate position. It was more of a rhetorical question but your drunk brain didn’t catch that. Apparently your drunk brain also felt like being honest and sharing a truth you hadn’t even shared with yourself yet.

“That bitch wouldn’t stop checking you out.” Mat looked down at you surprised. “Sorry she wasn’t a bitch, that’s not very feminist from me.”

“You got drunk because a girl was looking at me?”

“Not exactly like that.” Your train of thought wasn’t the brightest back at the party and now wasn’t much better. You were sure what you were about to explain wasn’t going to make any sense, but again your drunk brain didn’t care. “She wouldn’t stop looking at you and then she was playing beer pong and I really wanted to beat her because she was looking at you.”

“But you suck at beer pong.”

“I know. She kicked my ass.”

He laughed. It wasn’t the cocky laugh you expected after admitting you had gotten jealous over him; it was a sweet laugh. Actually what was sweet wasn’t the laugh itself but the way he was looking at you, his eyes were full of adoration. You should’ve felt embarrassed after just confessing that, but you weren’t because it was Mat. Not old stupid-fratty-dude Mat, it was this new lovely caring Mat. You could almost feel your hopes getting up but the second and the alcohol in your blood wasn’t helping.

His laughter died when he felt the way you were looking at him so intensely, intrigued by what was going on in your head. “Penny for your thoughts.”

When he spoke your eyes went to his lips and so did your thoughts.

“You have really kissable lips.” Any type of filter you had was gone because of the alcohol. “They look soft and big. I once thought you had fillers. Still kinda do honestly.”

There it was again, that laugh, that smile that made your insides burn. “You’re gonna regret saying all of this in the morning.”

“Kiss me.” The words left your lips before your head even processed them, not that it would’ve made a big difference if you had.

“What?”

“I really want you to kiss me Mat.” Your hand went up to cup his face, to draw him closer, but he didn’t move.

“And I really, really want to kiss you. Believe me I do. But it’s not gonna be like this.”

You pouted, earning a chuckle and roll of eyes from him. It took every bit of self control he had not to kiss that pout out of your lips.

“I’m gonna kiss you one day, you just wait.” Now you were rolling your eyes, cocky Mat was coming back, but just like Mat in general this was a new cocky, a cocky you could tolerate and actually liked. “When I finally kiss you it won’t be because you’re drunk and needy-”

“Hey!” You punched him in the chest, trying your hardest to seem offended. The smile on your face didn’t help you sell the part.

“When I finally kiss you you’ll want me to kiss you, there’s gonna be no doubt in your mind how serious I’m about you, how real my feelings are.”

He left you speechless. If only he knew your barrier was breaking down and you were second away from reaching that point, from falling completely head first blindly for him.

You held his gaze until you couldn’t anymore, still drunk and exhausted your body gave in and your eyes closed.

Mat thought you had passed out, if not he would have said it. “You’re the one for me, I know it. I’ll prove it to you.”

You heard him. Then you felt his lips gently kissing your forehead and lastly his steps walking away.

Mat was losing his mind, which wasn’t ideal since the game was going to start any minute. He couldn’t get the image out of his head, you sitting next to that other guy, laughing at something he said. The brain was a tricky thing because the moment he could stop thinking about it his eyes would wander to that specific sector where he knew you were sitting and it was hell all over again.

The first period ended and they were tied on 0, so even if his head wasn’t in the game it wasn’t that bad. The problem was when by the end of the second period they were down by 2, one being a puck lost by Mat because he couldn’t stop looking over where you were and the second a power play goal made on a stupid penalty he took when frustration took over.

The second intermission came and by the way Anders was glaring at him as they made their way off the ice he knew what was about to come. He took a seat next to him, which wasn’t his usual seat, and laid it on him the second Lambert was done giving indications.

“Get your shit together man. What has gotten into you?”

“Nothing. Bad day.” Anders looked at him, not believing a single word. Then he looked over at Tito sitting on Mat’s other side waiting for an explanation.

“She came with another guy to the game.” There was no need to clarify who the she was.

“Look Mat, the girl you like brought another guy to your game, it sucks, believe me I get it. But the worst thing you can do is play like shit in front of them, ok? You’re the most competitive guy I know, go there and play the game of your life, show off, make her regret it.” Mat nodded. That was exactly what he needed, to use this as fuel to play better, as motivation.

Before they left the locker room and headed back to the ice he sent you a text. It was a simple ‘meet me outside the lockers after’. He wasn’t just going to leave it like that. Yes he was the one trying to prove something and pushing for a date, but after what had happened the last couple weeks it felt like things had changed, things were heading in the right direction. This didn’t make sense, it felt like a betrayal no matter how dramatic it sounded, and he felt like he was owed an explanation.

Anders' words indeed worked because he was a completely different player that last period, even came close to scoring a natural hatty had it not been for the final bell. With his two goals and one by Pelly they completed the comeback and won the game.

You watched the clock run out of time, begging for it to go slower. Mat’s text confused you, you had no clue what it was about but it couldn’t be good. You decided it would be better to head over there and get whatever it was going on over with before the game ended and thousands of fans started to flood the hallways trying to get out. So after saying goodbye to Pete, sending him off with some lame excuse about having to catch Emma before she left, you made your way to the locker room.

You had been there before maybe once or twice, normally choosing to wait for your friends outside the arena. It felt weird, even out of place, to be there surrounded by girlfriends and wives of the players when you were neither. Thankfully the girls hadn’t arrived yet, it was just you, some stuff and guards.

Mat had apparently given your name to security because you were allowed in the private zone without any problem and just in time to see them walk down the hallway, big smiles and victorious screams after such a great comeback.

The ones that noticed you said a simple hi or gave you a friendly nod. Mat was the last to get off the ice since he had been named first star of the game and his whole attitude changed the second he saw you there waiting for him. Bad signal.

“Congratulations-” you started to say when he approached you but were cut off by his hand grabbing yours and gently drawing you some steps away from the locker room entrance. You thought he’d shower and change before you talked about whatever it was he so urgently needed to talk about, but it seemed it couldn’t wait.

He had his helmet on one hand and stick on the other. Skates still on so now he towered even more over you. It was weird to have him standing in front of you in his uniform.

“Do you like me?” he let out, cutting straight to the chase.

“W-what?” You were taken aback by it.

“Do you like me? It’s a yes or no question.” It was not that simple, even if you had known he’d ask that it would’ve taken you some time to come up with the right answer. Hell, even you didn’t know the answer to that yet. Yes, you liked him but was that the type of like he was referring to? Was it like as in friends? As in more than friends? As in friends that could potentially be more than friends eventually?

“Mat what’s going on?” You avoided his question again, hoping he’d give you an explanation and you could move on from it.

“Ok, I’m gonna assume you like me because I like you. I like you a lot. So much that I’ve been trying to prove to you how much I like you and how serious I am about this. It would be a huge fucking pity if after everything you don’t even like me.” He could feel himself getting more heated up by the second, adrenaline still running in his veins from the game.

“I don’t get where this is going.”

“If you like me, why are you going on a date with another guy? Why are you bringing him to my game? What kind of sick game is this?” Once you realized what he was talking about you had to fight back your laugh.

“This is about Pete?”

“So he’s called Pete.”

“Pete my friend. My coworker. My married coworker may I add.”

“Oh.” was all he was able to say. He stared at you in slack-jaw, processing everything.

Mat had done some pretty stupid things in his life but this had to be on the top 10. He should've known it was not what it looked like, he knew you and knew you wouldn’t do something like that.

“Yeah ‘oh’.” you replied with a smile on your face. The more you thought about it the funnier the whole situation was.

“Can we just pretend this never happened?” His cheeks turned red and he scratched the back of his neck. It was adorable to see Mat out of his element, his confident exterior completely gone.

“I don’t think I want to, you look cute freaking out.”

“I’m cute, eh?” And just like that the Mat you knew was back, embarrassment disappearing as his cocky smile grew.

“Shit forgot rule number one: never give Mathew Barzal a compliment.”

“You’ve got more rules?” He leaned against the wall and accompanied the question with a jerk of his head.

“Rule number two: he will automatically assume the worst so be careful who you hang out with.”

“Ha. Funny.”

“If it makes you feel better it showed you care. In a really stupid twisted way, but it did.”

“Good. Because I really do care.” He said with so much sincerity, looking you in the eyes, hoping you could see in his how genuine he was being.

“I know.” you replied with the same amount of honesty.

The two of you went silent, only staring at each other with bright eyes and adorable smiles. There was nothing left to say.

If you had to pinpoint the moment in which you gave up trying to hold back your feelings this would be it. You had unsuccessfully tried to not get your hopes up all this time, while truly you knew there was no point in trying, it was gonna happen anyway. The only thing left for you to do was hope it didn’t end up with you getting hurt.

As if he could read your mind Mat opened his mouth, ready to ask you that one question again, but in that moment the locker room doors flung open.

“Barzy!” Anders called him, his head peeking through the door. “You and Pelly are up for the postgame interview, go shower already.”

“I should go.” he said and you nodded. He started walking away reluctantly, not wanting to leave you, not wanting the moment to be over. You didn’t want it to be over either.

“Mat?” you called and he turned around. “Are you free on friday?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” One of his brows went up in amusement.

“Still haven’t decided if I’m calling it a date or not.” He was not going to push it, not when after all he was (maybe) getting what he had been after all this time.

“I’m free.”

“Good. We can arrange everything later.”

“Good.”

There you were again, looking at each other with stupid love eyes, unable to hide your happiness. Mat told himself he was going to wait, he was going to rush it, but God he wanted to grab your face and kiss you so much it was painful to abstain.

“Mathew!” It was Anders again, this time louder and more annoyed.

“I’m going! I’m going!” he shouted back and rolled his eyes, making you laugh. “See you on Friday.”

He leaned in to kiss your cheek, that would have to make it for now. That tingle in your stomach was back, you’d have to call it The Mat Barzal Effect because he was the one always causing it. It made you feel like a silly 15 year old with a crush, which apart from the age wasn’t that far from the reality.

“Goodbye Barzal.” you said as he walked away.

He stopped to give you a final smile before pushing the doors open and walking in. That stupid tingling again.

His teammates looked at him as he walked over to his stall, each one of them ready to chirp him about the lovesick look he had in his face and the spring he suddenly had in his step. Anders was the first. “I’m gonna assume that smile isn’t because you got named first star.”

For a not date, it looked a lot like one. You wouldn’t have spent an hour dressing and undressing looking for the perfect outfit, and another extra hour fixing your hair and makeup, if it were just two friends hanging out. Mat wouldn’t have shown up at your door with flowers if it were just two friends hanging out. Most importantly the two of you wouldn’t be this nervous if this wasn’t a date, but still you refused to call it that.

It was tense at first, a bit awkward, but once you sat on the table he had reserved everything started to ease up. There was an unspoken pact to not talk about that certain topic, the elephant in the room, the reason you were sitting at the restaurant having a lovely dinner in the first place. So you spoke about everything else.

Conversation flew but you expected it to. Nerves aside it was Mat after all, you were friends, kind of. You talked, joked, laughed; as if it was a normal night with him just hanging out like you’ve done many times before.

He was charming, he always was charming with you, but this time you saw him with different eyes. When he told you you looked beautiful for the fourth time you didn’t roll your eyes thinking it was just a joke; you thanked him and even blushed a little. This new Mat, that was exactly like the old Mat but with a different undertone echoing his words an action; this new Mat was making you fall harder than what you expected. And while the idea of free falling into him and letting your emotions run wild was tempting you had to hold yourself back.

After dinner he proposed to go for a walk in an attempt to prevent the no-date from ending. You agreed, not wanting the night to end either. As soon as you walked into the street he took your hand in his and you were about to make some snarky comment about how holding hands was only reserved for real dates, but it felt good to have his hand wrapped around yours. Plus you could take it had taken him a leap of faith and a bit of courage for him to do it so naturally by the way he was avoiding all eye contact, so you decided to be nice just this once.

You walked into a park and when you passed by a nice bench illuminated by a lamppost it felt like a divine sign that it was the time and place to have that conversation.

“Let’s sit for a moment.” you said, already dragging him to the bench by your still entangled hands.

“It’s time to have that talk, isn’t it?” You could almost see the nerves from before coming back to him.

“Chill Barzal. I’m not going to interrogate you or anything. I just have one question.”

“Ok, shoot.”

There was no doubt in your mind Mat has proven he could seriously date someone, but part of you still wondered if he wanted to date you. Part of you was terrified that the only reason he was set to prove you wrong in the first place was because that night he heard you say he could have a chance. It was cynical to think you were just a challenge for him, especially after what you had gone through the past weeks, but you couldn’t help it.

“I know we’ve always had this kinda playful dynamic where you flirt with me and I pretend you’re the most despisable man on earth, and I always took it as a joke. Was it always a joke until you heard me and Emma that night?”

There it was, the question was out in the open and Mat now held in his hands the future of whatever it was the two of you were building. He took a second to reply, a second that felt like eternity and only made the anxious feeling grow inside of you.

“Kind of. Yes.”

Your heart broke. He gave you the one answer you were hoping he wouldn’t. When it all started you told yourself you’d never get your hopes up for him exactly for this reason, but you couldn’t control it and they inevitably did. But before tonight you swore no matter how much you wanted it you’d put an end to it all if there was the slight chance his feelings and desire to date you suddenly started after realizing he simply could.

You moved your hand away from his. He noticed the impact his answer had on you and has to fix it. He couldn’t let it slip away just because he chose the wrong words.

“No. Wait.” He took your hand in his again.

“Mat-” you started to say and pulled your hand away again but he cut you off and tightened the grip.

“It’s more complicated than that.” He was silently begging you to let him explain. Since you didn’t move away he took that as a yes. “See I always liked you, ever since Emma introduced you to the group. But I know my reputation, so I knew you wouldn’t date me. I never blamed you for it, I know I haven’t been the most stand up guy when it comes to my love life. So I guess I started to jokingly flirt with you to deal with my feelings in a way. If it was just a joke then it wasn’t real.”

“And then you heard me that night.” you added. He nodded.

“And then I heard you that night. When I realized I had the slightest chance with you I knew I had to take it.”

“That was a way better answer than your first one.” you said, unable to hide your smile.

Mathew Barzal had passed the test. Any ounce of doubt that was left in your mind disappeared. He liked you, he really liked you and had done so for longer that you ever imagined. It wasn’t some shallow meaningless plan to get his way with you. Now you were ready to dive in head first fearless.

“You seriously never noticed how much I like you?” He always thought he wasn’t being that obvious, but according to everyone that had ever seen you two intercat Mat was. Sometimes he couldn’t take his eyes away from you, even when you were standing on the other side of the room. He’d laugh a little too much at a joke you made. He’d always order your favorite drink for you whenever you went out. Countless times his friends had chirped him about it. It was crystal clear to everyone, to everyone except you.

“I always thought you were joking. That and I didn’t think I was your type”

“What!?” he seemed genuinely shocked by your answer. You were a little embarrassed to admit how much you had compared yourself to the girls he would flirt with, but you had done it and it was painfully clear you weren’t the type.

“Come on, I’m not like the girls you usually like Mat. I’m not like the instagram models, new york socialites, puck bunnies, bombshells you normally pick up on bars. I’m just me.”

“Well just you is a thousand times better. Just you has been driving me crazy from the day we met with her snarky comments and roll of eyes.” You rolled your eyes at his comment but couldn’t stop the blush from creeping into your cheeks. “You're beautiful and smart and funny and nice. I thought you were so out of my league. Still think so.”

“Well you convinced me Barzal, there’s no doubt in my mind how serious you are, how real your feelings are.” you repeated his words from that night.

“You remember that?” he asked surprised.

“You didn’t expect me to?” Your eyebrow went up defyingly.

“No, no. It’s just we never talked about it after so I just assumed you were too drunk and forgot everything.”

“Mhm. And I also heard something about being the one for you.” His cheeks turned red and he looked away. A shy Mathew Barzal might be the cutest thing you had ever seen. “Are you blushing? Am I making the Mathew Barzal blush? Oh my god-”

Your words died the moment he attached his lips to yours. It was clumsy at first as you laughed against his lips, but you fell into rhythm when you tilted your head so your lips could meet firmly and happily at once. His lips were soft like you had joked that night, and they tasted like the wine you had shared over dinner. It was intoxicating, the feeling of his lips on yours, his hand in your waist pulling you closer, your hand on the back of his neck. He gripped you firmly, as if trying to stop you from escaping.

You were the one to pull away first, but his lips chased yours making you giggle. You gave him a final peck, knowing there would be plenty more kissed like this sooner rather than later. That made your heart burst with happiness.

“Would you go out on a date with me?” he asked once again, knowing this time he would earn himself a different answer. You smiled up at him.

“I don’t know…”

“Smartass.” he said in the most endearing way possible as his hand went to cup your face, drawing you closer so his lips could find yours again.

You whispered a ‘yes’ into the kiss, but were unsure if he heard it. He didn’t have to anyway, he already knew the answer.

Well hope you guys liked it!! It feels so good to be back. Likes and reblogs are always appreciated and dont be affraid to tell me your thoughts on the fic. Thank you so much!!! <3

taglist pt1:

@glassdanse @2manytabsopen @tazeboes @barbienoturbby @nilspettersson @sweetlittlegingy @mcsteamylove98 @ttylfedora @chieflawyerpastatoad @iwantahockeyhimbo @cherrymaybank @fallinallincurls @samsteel @jordiee95 @heatherawoowoo @tysonsjosty @barzysreputation @stars-canucks @farabeezers @4ambagelbites @kaitieskidmore1 @sodalatte @hotgirlhockey @matwith1t @tseggys91 @audryahoo @maximoff-xmenn @astrydiss @barzysandmarnersbitch @joelsfarabees @bitchforbarzyy @caufieldmakesmesmile @deloughreyey @thotforthedevilsils @brias1201 @besthockeyfics @ya-pucking-nerd @Dreamer1430 @hoiyheadharpies @notanaccount-anymore @wambach1 @abbisamson @mckenna4 @rosesvioletshardy @tysonjost-taylorsversion @noeaerialist @cybertradgedies @hockeyunits @canadiansassymama78 @whoeverineedtobe @siriusly-parker @captainbarnes12 @brandtsclarke @ilyasorokinn

if your url is crossed out im sorry but for some reason it wont let me tag you, also if you've changed your url and would like to still be in the taglist please let me know and obviously if you want to be taken out of the taglist just let me know no hard feelings i promise <3

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cheriecelestial · 4 months

Text

Paper Rings

disclaimer *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ angst (?), canon typical violence, gore (?), crude humour, strong language, typos, grammatical errors, cliché moments

genre *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ drama, romance, action-thriller, fantasy

a/n *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ based on this one dream i had and also cuz pjo was my first comfort series and jjk is my current one (only s1)

╰ ┈➤ Chapter List

╰ ┈➤ Master list

Chapter One

Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.

If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now. Believe whatever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal

life. Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.

If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think it's fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened.But if you recognize yourself in these pages - if you feel something stirring inside - stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it's only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they'll come for you.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

My name is Gojo Kanao . Age fourteen, raised in Tokyo, Japan . As the youngest family member of the Gojo clan , niece of the Gojo Satoru and an aspiring sorcerer - my life was going as perfectly as it rightfully should . Except my uncle got a call from an old family friend three weeks back and before I knew it I were to pack my bags and enroll in a 'summer camp' meant for 'children like me' . And that's really funny because apart from my uncle , I'm pretty much one of a kind . It's not like ever other generation has a six eyes user gifted with limitless. My existence is what most people call an 'anomaly in the power balance of the world' and sparked much debate amongst higher ups but it stopped bothering me after a point considering how uncle Satoru threatens to decimate any person that as much as dared look at me wrongly .

He took me in after my father died when I was four and him eighteen . Following my father's death , the Gojo clan was pretty much reduced to me and uncle since not much was known about my birth mother . The first time my uncle got to know that he, in fact , not only had a sister in law but also a niece from his absentee elder brother was when the fore mentioned "family friend" came knocking to at the Gojo Clan's door with a drooling four year old with white pigtails in tow .

As much as a shock it must've been to know that he was now a single father , uncle or as I call him Satoru nii-san , seemed to have developed a knack for parenting much too quickly with his reasoning being 'the baby looks like mini me and I vibe with that' . And as he liked to say to me and my also-adopted siblings Megumi and Tsumiki Fushiguro "having you kids just adds to my dilf appeal" followed by Megumi deadpanning at him , Tsumiki awkwardly smiling and me audibly gagging. Needless to say , he isn't much liked and not even half as tolerable as he considers himself to be.

"How could you do this to me ?" I mumbled while my eyes trailing the silhouette of the trees passing rapidly by my car windows . Almost inaudible cursing was what my opposition was shamefully reduced to . After much fights , screaming , crying , scratching and attempts at running away I was forced to join this camp . His description of the camp with strawberry fields , flying horses , Greek gods and half goat people was enough for Megumi to call bullshit on it however I couldn't deny its existence because that's where I grew up from birth to age four.

" Nyao-chan , this is the 33rd time you're saying this in the past fifteen hours of flight time . Do better" I could feel nii-san rolling his eyes from the front seat .

" Toru nii don't call me that" I hissed back at him and turned my face with 'hmph' so that maybe , just maybe I could appeal to his conscience. I remember that place and it wasn't particularly unpleasant and under normal circumstances I would really like visiting . However , he simply refused to understand just how it would derail my development as a sorcerer , quoting ' your development as a demigod is just as fundamental to your growth as your development as a sorcerer . Take it as a learning experience. Have fun and for the love of god make some friends that aren't the fushiguros or your pet snake .'

My previous attempt at socialising ended up with the boy calling me a brat and me activating my cursed technique for the first time in attempt to kill him , stunning breakthrough but not a suitable first impression. That meeting ended well for their family and the incident was ruled out as a 'all is well that ends well' . And after that I decided that I had enough and rated the experience 2 stars , do not recommend .

" I mean looking at how much you like small spaces , scratching and hissing you might as well be one . But hey cheer up ! you're going to see your Chiron sensei and Dino oji-san again . Won't it be fun ? Childhood memories all coming back to you. Plus I've heard summer camps are really fun." He shrugged with his emphasis on the names causing me to cringe inwardly .

" What sort of summer camp runs in November ?" I retorted followed by him sighing . It was much later that I found out that my 'Dino oji-san' was actually Dionysus , the Greek god of wine. I could only imagine the emotions he must've felt holding a toddler in his lap , butchering his name to her convenience. The embarrassment of the memory just made me even more unwilling to go . Our satyr chauffeur said we were fifteen minutes away from camp so of course going back wasn't an option.

Before I knew it , the car came to a screeching halt in the middle of road . There was nothing but an empty road ahead surrounding by dense vegetation on either sides . " What happened ? " I asked leaning forward. The saytr looked at me and blinked . Then I realised I forgot to switch to English while talking . Except for my struggles with dyslexia, English was fairly easy to learn . I credited Satoru nii's obsession of Friends and Britney Spears for this but learning , in general , was something that came naturally to me . I never had to try too hard to learn a skill and it puzzled others and even me . Apparently this was the trait of a true Gojo . Being godly perfect . It applied to everything but my cursed energy technique . Sometime back I realised I reached a plateau of my skills and no matter what method I employed , my growth remained stagnant . Maybe that's why he's sending me here .

" She meant why did we stop ?" Nii-san asked .

" We're here" The saytr plainly replied . I looked around in confusion because I saw nothing . He asked us to follow him , and with luggage in hand , so we did .

After a small hike through the woods , we reached a big stone arch . It was partially of wood and stone and looked really old with greek symbols carved at the top and several cracks and moss . I stared at the sign and noticed that the letters began to rearrange themselves . At first I thought it was my dyslexia acting up but the Greek symbols rearrange themselves to spell out the letters 'CAMP HALFBLOOD' .

"You look surprised. What do you see Kana ?" He looked at me . I explained my observations and he smirked and muttered something to himself .

I extended my hand and much like how jujutsu curtains worked by hand went passed the barrier emitting a faint blue light . " Nii-san you try it " I gestured him to do the same . The barrier pulsated against his hand as if resisting his touch . With a faint smile , he retracted his hand and said to the saytr " This barrier is stronger than I expected . I'm impressed"

"Nii-san if you were to break through , how long would it take ?" I asked out of curiosity . If you were to ask anyone to describe Gojo Satoru in one word the word would be 'strongest' . Once he put enough effort into it there was no barrier he couldn't break nor there was any curse he couldn't exorcise . " Hmmm it's strong I'll give it that . But we wouldn't want to endanger a camp worth of kids, right ?" I shrugged in a 'makes sense' gesture.

"It's just her from this point on. You can't go inside." The saytr said. Yeah we noticed. Satoru- nii clapped his hands and smiled," Just give us two minutes. You know I need time to see off my precious baby." The saytr blinked and moved out of earshot wordlessly. Satoru nii cupped my face and cooed as if he was on the verge of crying. I rolled my eyes at his dramatic display," you didn't feel any remorse for the last few days and you're crying now ?"

"It's not easy ! I knew I had to let my baby bird out of the nest because that's what's best for you but I -" his bottom lip wobbled and I was hit with a sense of guilt. I sighed and hugged him," I'll miss you too. I'll be fine."

"Call me everyday you hear me ? And eat and sleep well. Oh my god I'm starting to sound like an old woman !" Gojo Satoru was one man who liked to completely disregard the fact that me, Megumi and Tsumiki had mother -albeit absent, and very seriously behave as if he was the one who carried us around for nine months and birth us. But hey, who doesn't like being coddled ?

I rolled my eyes and gave him the signature Gojo smirk," I'll be just fine, don't you worry."

" I know. You'll be fine. Always. You'll be better than me, I know it." Satoru nii-san's voice dropped to a low and almost wistful whisper. " Even though you're the best there is ?" I asked offering him a kind smile. To that he said something in a tone I didn't expect hearing from him. "You've inherited only my powers , I don't want you to inherit my tragedies too ." The statement left a bad taste in my mouth. People often assumed that since he was the strongest, he had it easy. It’s people like him that suffer the most, so much so that sometimes it has you wishing you didn’t have power at all.

"And lastly. Don't kill anyone, and even if you do. Get rid of witnesses and call nii-san first, Nii-san will take care of it." I raised my brow in questioning. Firstly, shouldn't he be teaching his kid to be nice to other people or something and second of all why is he referring to himself in third person.

"Shouldn't you be saying 'dont bully people and be nice' or something ?" Though what he said wasn't the first of its kind. My brother Megumi had a track record of beating up people in his school but Nii-san never saw a problem because the people he beat up were hardly innocent and he never lost a fight so that was no shame brought to the family name.

"If there's anyone you think shouldn't be alive. Then they shouldn't be. This world is ours, the others are just living in it." One thing that everyone knew what that Gojo Satoru was a firm believer of the Gojo family supremacy. And he's not wrong. "Then what about those sleazy higher-ups ?" I quipped. I knew of his grand plan to demolish the old reign and establish a new jujutsu world, the reason he became a teacher. It was something I looked forward to since the day he showed me the dream of it, but for that I had to get stronger. To become more, to become unstoppable. So I would gladly accept any wisdom the Greeks had to offer and make sure that by the time I’m done here, I’ll be the strongest demigod they’ve had the honour of laying their eyes upon.

“All in due time Kana-chan.”

Taglist: @kentply / @sleepykittycx / @yourpersonalgaybird

#jjk #gojo!oc #percy x reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson x oc #jujutsu kaisen #pjo x reader #pjo x jjk #crossover #percy jackon and the olympians

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literaryavenger · 4 months

Text

Captain America: The Winter Soldier - 2

Summary: You meet Sam and get a closer look at your enemy. Maybe a little too close...

Pairing: platonic!Steve Rogers x F!Reader, platonic!Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader, platonic!Sam Wilson x F!Reader

Warnings: Language. Rumlow being a dick. Mentions of death. Mentions of fighting and fire arms. The Winter Soldier, he's a warning. My poor attempts at being funny. Idk, everything else in the movie?

Word Count: 3.1K

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

By the time you arrive at your destination it’s morning and Natasha’s awake, a little worse for wear but she assures you she’s fine. You help her as you walk up to the door and Steve knocks on it.

“Hey, man.” the man Steve informed you is named Sam answers the door.

“I'm sorry about this,” Steve says “we need a place to lay low.”

“Everyone we know is trying to kill us.” Natasha adds.

“Not everyone.” he says after looking at all three of you for a few seconds, then he lets you in and closes the door after taking a quick look outside.

You stay in the kitchen with Sam as Natasha and Steve clean up. “So, how do you know Captain Spangles?”

You ask him as he cooks, making him laugh. “I met him a couple of days ago on a run. What about you?”

“We work together.” you meet his eye and he raises an eyebrow at you, willing you to go on. “I guess you might as well know, after all you are harboring two fugitives.”

“Fugitives? Who is Captain America running from?” he turns around, giving you his full attention.

“SHIELD. Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.” That's obviously not enough information for him, so you keep going.

“it’s an espionage and security organization that defends Earth and its people from groups that pose advanced technological, and sometimes supernatural or extraterrestrial, threats. I’m an Agent of Shield, currently working for the STRIKE team which happen to be the very same bad people that are looking for Tasha and Steve.” you end bitterly, looking away from Sam and shaking your head, disappointed in yourself.

“Well, you don’t look like a very bad person, why are you working with them?” Sam surprises you with this question, clearly he’s a very good judge of character.

“I was assigned when I became a pawn to an asshole’s psychotic plan to rule the world.” you deadpan.

“Don’t worry, it happens to all of us one time or the other” he says with a smirk, making you laugh.

He then goes to inform Steve and Nat that breakfast is ready. When he comes back you give him an amused look, raising your eyebrow in question. “If you guys eat that sort of thing?”

“I don’t know what supersoldiers and spies eat.” he shrugs and laughs with you.

“You two are getting along great.” Nat wiggles her eyebrows at you as she takes a seat at the table.

“Down, girl.” you tell her with a fake glare, which she merely smirks at. “So, Captain. Care to fill us mortals in about what you found at the camp?”

“Hydra.” he simply says, sitting down “We found Hydra.”

“Hydra? So you’re telling me that Pierce, STRIKE and who knows how many other Shield agents that we’ve been working along with for decades are Hydra?!” you try to wrap your head around it, but how can you? You knew they were bad dudes, you just didn’t think they were this bad.

“Yeah…” Natasha says, clear from her face that she’s feeling as betrayed as you do.

“Do you know anything about who killed Fury?” you ask quietly, eyes fixated on your plate. “Did Pierce have anything to do with it?”

“It was the Winter Soldier.” Natasha says, and your eyes snap to hers.

You weren’t there on her mission in Odessa, but you and Clint were both there for her afterwards and she told you all about it. You tried to stop her from going after him, resisting the urge to say ‘I told you so’ when her search concluded in nothing.

“The Winter Soldier?” Sam echoes. “Who’s that?”

“A Hydra supersoldier.” Steve answers.

“There’s more of you?” Sam asks, a little surprised.

“How do you know he’s a supersoldier?” You ask at the same time, just as surprised. “What does he look like?”

“He’s strong. Too strong.” Steve says, “tall, dark long hair, metal arm-”

"Wait," Sam interrupts, looking as dumbfounded as you're feeling at that last detail, "He has a METAL ARM?!"

"That's really not the important part here." Steve says, like it was a normal thing to be discussing.

"Easy for you to say, supersoldier serum." you interject quickly, "A hit with that and we're worse than useless" you say while pointing to yourself and Sam.

Nat is snickering and looking at Sam, probably waiting for him to disagree, but apparently he has as much self-awareness as you do.

"No, she's right." he says "I might be a badass, but I'm certainly not metalproof."

“Exactly.” you nod.

“Ok, we can worry about that later.” Steve dismisses you with an eye roll. You and Sam share a concerned look, but let it go.

“So, the question is: who in SHIELD could launch a domestic missile strike?” Nat asks.

“Pierce.” Steve promptly answers.

“Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world.” you interject.

“But he's not working alone,” Steve says “Zola's algorithm was on the Lemurian Star.”

“So was Jasper Sitwell.” Natasha ends. There’s a moment of silence before Steve asks the next obvious question.

“So, the real question is: how do the two most wanted people in Washington kidnap a Shield officer in broad daylight?”

“The answer is: you don’t.” Sam says, dropping some files on the table and looking at you, you narrow your eyes on him in suspicion when you meet his gaze while Steve picks up the files.

“What is this?” he asks.

“Call it a resume.” he says cryptically as you move behind Steve to look at the files.

“Is this Bakhmala? The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you?” you ask and he nods as Natasha looks at Steve.

“You didn’t say he was a pararescue.” she says, looking at the photo he was holding.

“Is this Riley?” Steve asks Sam.

“Yeah.” Sam confirms.

“I heard they couldn't bring in the choppers because of the RPGs. What did you use, a stealth chute?” Natasha asks him now.

“No,” he says, handing Steve another file “these.”

“I thought you said you were a pilot.” Steve says, a little shocked.

“I never said pilot.” Sam smirks.

“I can't ask you to do this, Sam.” Steve reasons “You got out for a good reason.”

“Dude, Captain America needs my help.” he says, obviously feeling very proud “There's no better reason to get back in.” you snort at his patriotism and he’s smirking again.

“Where can we get our hand on one of these?” you question him.

“The last one is at Fort Meade, behind three guarded gates and a twelve-inch steel wall.” he promptly says and you narrow your eyes at him in suspicion again even if you can't help but grin. Why does he even know that?

Steve looks at Natasha who shrugs and then at you and you nod, so he turns back to Sam. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

You end up getting paired with Sam so you find yourself sitting with him at a cafe near the stairs Sitwell should be coming down any minute now.

“There he is.” you discreetly tell Sam as you see him walking with Senator Stern and a few bodyguards. You watch them talk and then the senator starts walking away.

“Call him now” you tell Sam. Sitwell says something to his guards and when they walk away he answers the phone.

“Agent Sitwell, how was lunch?” Sam says casually “I hear the crab cakes here are delicious.” you giggle and Sam grins at you.

You can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but can guess what Sitwell asks when Sam says “The good looking guy in the sunglasses with the pretty girl, your ten o'clock” you roll your eyes at Sam and you see Sitwell turn the wrong way.

“Your other ten o’clock. There you go.” he says when he spots you two. Sam raises his glass at him while you simply wave at Sitwell.

You can see his lips moving while talks and then Sam says, “You're gonna go around the corner, to your right. There's a grey car, two spaces down. The three of us are gonna take a ride.”

He says something else and Sam answers with “Because that tie looks really expensive, and I'd hate to mess it up.” you smirk as you see him look down at the red spot on his tie and then look around him, clearly panicking.

“Consider him convinced.” you tell Sam as you both make your way to the car and he laughs.

Once you enter the vehicle, Sitwell in the back seat, his eyes almost pop out of his skull when he finally recognizes you.

“Agent YLN?!” he all but yells.

“Sir.” you say sarcastically, saluting him.

You get to the building Steve and Nat are in and escort Sitwell to the top of the stairs while Sam suits up.

“All yours, Captain.” you tell him, shoving Sitwell towards him.

Steve pushes him aggressively through the door to the roof. “Tell me about Zola’s algorithm.”

“Never heard of it.”

“What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?” Steve tries.

“I was throwing up, I get seasick.” you try to hide a smirk, you have to give it to him, dude is funny.

Steve keeps pushing him until he’s on the edge of the roof, but Sitwell simply smiles. “Is this little display meant to insinuate that you're gonna throw me off the roof? Because it's really not your style, Rogers.”

“You’re right. It’s not.” Steve says calmly as he straightens the agent’s suit, then nods toward Natasha. “It’s hers.”

He stands aside and Nat simply kicks Sitwell and he goes down screaming.

“Oh wait, what about that girl from accounting, Laura…?” Natasha trails off, and you think of who she could be talking about.

“Lilian” Steve corrects her “Lip piercing, right?” she nods.

“Oh yeah” you say when you place her “She’s cute” you add, looking at Steve.

“Yeah, I’m not ready for that.” He simply says and you roll your eyes and share a look with Natasha.

You suddenly see Sam flying up towards the roof with his Falcon jet-pack, holding Sitwell and then throwing him on the roof. “That’s cool” you say quietly as you get closer to Sitwell.

He holds his hands up in fear, then starts talking. “Zola's algorithm is a program...for choosing Insight's targets!”

“What targets?” Steve says.

“You!” He yells “A TV anchor in Cairo, the Undersecretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa city. Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who's a threat to HYDRA! Now, or in the future.”

“The Future?” you’re all thinking the same thing “How could it know?” Sitwell simply laughs.

“How could it not? The 21st century is a digital book. Zola taught HYDRA how to read it.” You all look at him while frowning in confusion “Your bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, e-mails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores. Zola's algorithm evaluates people's past to predict their future.”

“And what then?” Steve says, worry all over his face.

“Oh, my God.” Sitwell says, more to himself while looking at the ground “Pierce is gonna kill me.”

“What then?!” you all but yell, your patience running out fast.

“Then the Insight Helicarriers scratch people off the list.” He looks back up at Steve before finishing. “A few million at a time.”

You all look at each other, the same worry written on all your faces. This is definitely not good.

You’re all in Sam’s car directed towards the Triskelion while Sitwell’s still freaking out. “HYDRA doesn’t like leaks.”

“Then why don't you try sticking a cork in it.” Sam answers from the driver's seat and you snort in amusement, before trying for the millionth time to get more comfortable.

“Why do I have to sit in the middle?” you almost whine, meeting Steve’s eyes in the rearview mirror and pouting like a child while he glares at your antics.

“Insight's launching in sixteen hours,” Natasha says, leaning into you to look at Steve, completely ignoring your little temper tantrum. “we're cutting it a little bit close here.”

“I know.” Steve says “We'll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the Helicarriers directly.”

“What?! Are you crazy?” If you thought he was freaking out before. “That is a terrible, terrible idea-”

He gets interrupted by a thud in the roof then a hand breaks through the window on Sitwell’s side and throws him into the next lane where he gets hit by a truck, instantly killing him.

You have no time to process anything as the person on the roof starts shooting, narrowly missing you and Natasha as you both move to the front of the car, Nat on Steve’s lap and you on Sam’s.

Steve pulls the brake handle, and the person gets thrown down onto the street.

“That’s a cool move” you say while you see the Winter Soldier slide to a stop with his metal hand and then get up.

“Seriously?” Sam glares at you.

“I’m just saying-” you cut yourself off when you turn to face Sam, seeing an armored truck coming towards you.

A second later the vehicle that you’re now sure is being used by the STRIKE team smashes into the back of Sam’s car and pushes it, you can feel Sam holding tight onto your waist at the impact and you can see Natasha dropping her gun.

The Winter Soldier jumps back onto the car and you all look up, Sam pushes the brakes, but a metal hand smashes through the windshield and you let out a high pitch scream as you hold onto Sam tighter, burying your face in his neck to protect your face from the glass as the steering wheel gets pulled out of the car.

You can hear Sam scream “Shit!” then Natasha finally gets a hold of her gun and starts shooting at the roof but the Winter Soldier jumps onto the vehicle behind you that taps the back of your car sending it towards the divider on the road.

Steve holds on to the car door and yells “Hang On!”

Natasha holds onto him and he grabs Sam while you hold onto Sam as if your life depended on it, which it kind of does, his hold on you just as tight.

Somehow Steve breaks open the door and you all slide through the street as Sam’s car flies through the air, the truck with the Winter Soldier on top of it going a bit further before stopping.

You and Sam slip from the door and roll on the street while Natasha and Steve stay on it and slip closer to the bad guys.

Before you can comprehend what’s happening you get pulled behind a car by Sam, bullets flying towards you.

You barely register Natasha hiding behind the car next to you before Sam’s pulling you further away to hide behind another car. Once they stop shooting at you and Sam, you take a minute to catch your breath.

“Thank you” you tell him and he turns your way.

“Anytime” he says, then he chances a look towards the armed guys before turning back to you. “Ready?”

You nod, and as you both discreetly make your way closer to them you silently hand a tactical knife to Sam and then take one out for yourself.

As you get closer you hear the Winter Soldier order the others in Russian to find Steve while he takes care of Nat, then he easily jumps off the bridge onto a car.

Damn. He may be lethal but it’s impressive what he can do.

The others use ice axes with ropes to rappel down and then start shooting the bus that Steve fell into.

As the last two agents are about to jump down, you and Sam sneak up behind them. You stab one of them while Sam cuts the gun strap of the other and then kicks him down the bridge.

You look towards Sam a little shocked but he merely nods and then the both of you bring your attention back to the street below and proceed to help take out the guys shooting at Steve.

“Go, we got this!” Sam yells down when Steve looks up and sees you shooting the guys that are now focused on both of you and not the Captain. So he takes the opportunity to run after the Winter Soldier.

Just as you finish shooting the last guy, you see an explosion coming from the direction Steve just ran to and you share a worried glance with Sam.

“Let’s go.” he says and you don’t need to be told twice.

You follow him to his car where he manages to open the trunk and get his wings then he puts them on before turning back to you and putting his hands on your waist. “You better hold on”

You barely have time to put your arms around his neck and he’s taking flight “I don’t like this!” you yell in his ear and can hear him chuckling.

You get closer to them just in time to see a now maskless Winter Soldier aim his gun at Steve, the idiot frozen for some reason.

“Let go!” you tell Sam and he does, basically throw your on the supersoldier assassin. Not the best plan, but you get him away from Steve.

When you get up and see the face of the Soldier, your eyes widen in shock as you recognize the soldier from the numerous black and white photos you've seen of the Howling Commandos.

“Sergeant Barnes?” you say, but his face has no recognition of the name.

He stops for merely a second to glance at Steve behind you before bringing his gun up again, but before he can shoot there’s a sound behind you. You duck instinctively and then a car near the sergeant blows up.

You look behind you and see Natasha with Barnes’ gun leaning on a car, Steve’s face as shocked as you feel. When you turn back around where the soldier was, he’s already gone.

The four of you get surrounded pretty quickly, Rumlow’s stupid face coming into view as he screams at Steve to drop the shield and get on his knees, kicking Steve’s leg and then yours as you’re next to him now.

“You made the wrong choice, Agent.” he tells you and you roll your eyes.

“Shut the fuck up, Rumlow.” He presses his gun against your head and almost growls, annoyed that even with a big ass gun pointed at you you’re not even a little bit afraid of him.

His attention gets taken off of you when he looks up to a news helicopter and then the idiot holding Steve Rogers at gunpoint and says, “Put the gun down. Not here. Not here!”

Rollins finally puts his gun down and then they take you, Steve, Sam and a bleeding Natasha into custody.

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foxy-llama-mama · 1 year

Text

for anyone wondering, i saw the les mis us tour last night in DC and it. was. CRAZY. i’ve seen the tour a few times in my life and i noticed some new things so here we go:

~~ spoilers ~~

- petit gervais was actually shown in the prologue when JVJ gets out of jail, he has some line like “but monsieur!” before being shooed away

- batambois actually hits fantine with his cane, knocks her down, and kicks her multiple times before she reaches up and scratches his face (i feel like i usually see him grab her arm or something instead of actually hitting her?)

- the other lovely ladies whores are all freaking out and trying to protect fantine from batambois and the pimp men people are actively holding them back and letting him hit her

- JVJ and javert have the gayest little moment of holding a handshake before “forgive me sir i would not dare” for a solid 30 seconds

- fantine shoots up and hugs JVJ in the line before she dies and stays there until he lays her dead body back down

- mme. thenardier was just so wonderful. i loved her

- gavroche has this entire moment with javert after the robbery, yelling “yeah! clear the streets! that means you too!” (said to a cop), and when the only two people left on stage are him and javert, he completely squares up to him and then salutes and it’s a really sweet moment. it also makes little people so much more impactful because they actually recognize each other then

- enjolras has a visceral reaction to eponine and marius speaking and he hasn’t even met cosette yet. enj turns to speak to marius and sees him talking to ep and throws his hands up in the air like, SO frustrated because MARIUS THE REVOLUTION IS COMING.

- red and black is BEAUTIFUL. the entire ensemble respects enjolras so much and it’s very obvious. “marius, you’re late” is not sung and so deadpan and so enjolras.

- R gives gav his bottle after javert’s arrival and it’s really funny

- grantaire does not take his eyes off of enjolras until drink with me. at all.

-when eponine dies, gavroche turns suddenly and sees her dying and grantaire SHOOTS up and grabs him and sits in the corner with him. it’s beautiful

- R does not touch a gun at all for the entire show. whenever anyone starts shooting, he hides behind the barricade or he grabs javert in custody but he never fights at all

- when gav dies, R throws a goddamn fit and does not leave his body until enjolras is about to be shot.

- when enj dies, he climbs up the barricade and is backlit and R is sitting at the bottom of the barricade reaching upwards, and when enj is shot, he falls backwards off of the barricade and out of sight. when this happens, R climbs the barricade with no gun, just enough so his head is exposed, and gets shot and slides down the barricade. it’s very “no one loves the light like a blind man”

- when javert is picking through the bodies looking for JVJ, another officer is wheeling a cart for dead bodies, and it ONLY has enjolras in it, hanging upside down just like aaronjolras in the window. javert heaves gav’s body on top of his and wheels them both off. (i heard multiple audible gasps during this, assumedly from the other enjolras girlies like myself)

- enj and R are beside each other for empty chairs until they cross and they’re directly facing each other instead

-during the wedding song, the line “this one’s a queer, but what can you do” is changed to “this one’s a queer, i might try it too” before thenardier waltzes with a male ensemble member for like 4 bars before finishing the song

- there is a lot of rich people laughing as a bit and thenardier cues to the conductor and counts them off like 3 separate times

- the finale is beautiful as always, JVJ and the dead bishop hug before everyone just lines up in formation (R and enj are both holding one of gav’s hands on either side)

- in conclusion: i cried

If anyone else has seen the tour and would like to add little things they noticed, please do in the tags!!

#les miserables #les mis us tour #exR #enjolras #les mis #grantaire #i loved it so much #kyle adams obviously read the book #he did character research like george blagden did

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stevethehairington · 1 year

Text

✨ Mack's Stranger Things Fic List ✨

✨ Most Recent Work:

for all the pretty mouths and pretty words | 5.4k | steddie

Eddie snags both drinks with a thanks to the bartender and turns to head back towards Steve. Things have been going well, things have been going really well — not even that rocky start could put a wrench into things, and the note they left off on before Eddie slipped away was promising. Eddie is eager to see where the rest of the night will take them. He has high hopes.

But, as Eddie is intimately familiar with, highs are not meant to last, and hopes are easy to lose.

Things, meet wrench.

He makes it three steps when his stride stutters because — oh. That’s. That’s Steve, with a girl. A pretty girl. With short, sandy brown hair and freckles. It’s the same pretty girl Eddie had seen with him earlier. The one he’d thought, for a second, might be Steve’s girlfriend. He’d let himself hope she wasn’t, when he first approached, and let himself start to actually believe it when he’d tried his hand at flirting and Steve had flirted back.

But now...

Now Eddie’s not so sure.

Or, the one where Steve puts his foot in his pretty mouth and Eddie pays the price. Featuring: cherry stems, half smoked cigarettes, and the world's biggest misunderstanding.

✨ Completed Works (below the cut):

the privilege of being yours | 3.1k | steddie

“What do you think?” Eddie asks, grinning.

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve laughs, already reaching for Eddie’s ankle. He curls his fingers around it and gives it a tug, beckoning Eddie closer. “They’re perfect, you’re perfect. I love them,” he adds, as Eddie scooches into his space.

Steve cups both of his hands to Eddie’s face and kisses him right on the center of his mouth. “I can’t wait to marry you,” he says.

The kiss turns into something else as Eddie’s lips split against Steve’s, and he murmurs back against them, “I can’t wait to marry you.”

When they break apart, Steve taps Eddie’s knee. “Okay, where’s the rest of your sense of tradition? I showed you mine, you show me yours now.”

“Oh, I’ll show you tradition alright,” Eddie responds, and he reaches for his left sleeve.

Or, the one where Steve and Eddie share a rooftop, beloved traditions, and so much love.

✨

hold your breath and just dive right in | 4.5k | steddie

“Come on, man, what are you waiting for?” Steve calls, several feet out from the shore where he’s treading water with a perfect, practiced ease. Fucking show off. “An invitation?”

“Ha ha,” Eddie shouts back, deadpan. He makes no movement towards the water, though. Just digs his toes into the sand and wiggles them, watching the tiny grains spill into the spaces between and swallow his feet.

He glances up to stare out at the lake, and his stomach roils uneasily at its vastness. The other end is visible from where he stands, but it still seems so far away. They’re nowhere near the middle either, and even Steve isn’t that far out. It still makes Eddie nervous.

The funny thing is, it isn’t even his recent experiences with Lover’s Lake that’s putting this horrible feeling in his gut. Well, okay, maybe it is a little bit. But mostly, it’s because Eddie already didn’t like the water before that. He’s never been a fan.

Because Eddie Munson does not know how to swim.

Or, the one where Eddie Munson does not know how to swim, and Steve Harrington is nothing if not the perfect teacher.

✨

keep me on a rope | 6.6k | steddie, unrequited stommy

Tommy wipes his palms against the side of his jeans and squeezes through the crowd, never once taking his eyes off of Steve as he makes a beeline right for him.

He’s a couple feet away, gearing up to call out his greeting when someone else beats him to it and sidles up to Steve. They touch Steve, putting their palm low on his waist, half tucked up under his blazer. It’s an intimate touch, an almost possessive one in a very casual sort of way.

Tommy freezes in his tracks.

Steve perks up in the presence of his new company, back straightening and body turning into theirs — receptive, familiar.

He tilts his head, just enough that Tommy can see the smile gracing his lips, the softness in his eyes, and the other person dips their own chin, leaning in to whisper something into Steve’s ear. Their curtain of hair sways forward, brushing against Steve’s collar, and Steve reaches up to tuck it behind their ear, giving Tommy a clear view of—

Of Eddie Munson.

Or, Tommy Hagan attends his ten year high school reunion hoping for one thing, and leaves with something else entirely.

✨

trippin stumbling flippin fumbling | 5k | steddie

“Don’t be such a coward,” Eddie tells himself. “Fucking— go.”

His body doesn’t move. Not even an inch. His ass stays glued to his seat, his feet firmly planted on the floor. His hands don’t leave ten and two.

“God dammit,” Eddie groans, dropping his forehead down to the wheel.

Except — he underestimates the distance, and rather than pressing into the top of the wheel between his hands, his forehead smacks squarely into the center of the horn.

He jerks back so fast he gives himself whiplash, but the damage is done. There is no taking back the short, sharp, loud honk that emits from the bowels of his traitorous van.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck, shit,” Eddie hisses, eyes going wider than the moon hanging in the sky tonight.

He immediately slouches in his seat, sinking down as low as he can go. But it’s too late. He’s caught Steve and Robin’s attention now, and despite parking off to the side and a little further back, his set of wheels is unmistakable.

They’ve seen him. He can’t leave now. He has no choice but to go inside.

✨

when i turn out the lights | 1.8k | stommy

Steve tells everyone who asks him hat his first kiss was Sheila Anderson when he was fifteen years old.

But, really, that's not true.

It was Tommy Hagan. When he was fourteen.

Or, the one that tells the real story of Steve Harrington's first kiss.

✨

love grows (where my rosemary goes) | 3.2k | steddie

“Do you know you have, like, a trillion freckles on your face?” Steve asks right back, leaning in. His left hand winds itself around the strap of Eddie’s overalls, pulling him in too, and the right one catches Eddie’s jaw. It’s cold from his own lemonade glass, abandoned somewhere by his feet, and his thumb sweeps over the bridge of Eddie’s nose, the apples of his cheeks. Doubles back to tap the single freckle that sits right on the tip.

It’s true — Eddie does have freckles. Maybe not a trillion, but when the sun peeks out from behind the clouds like today and becomes a more permanent resident in the sky, those pesky little polka dots like to make their appearance, painting his face in faint faint dusting. They’re not obvious or anything; nobody really notices them unless they’re looking for them.

But that’s the thing about Steve. He’s always looking. Always seeing.

It’s why Eddie loves him so much.

It’s why — oh. He loves him.

✨

the strength to let it show | 3.2k | steddie

Steve keeps his voice quiet enough as he sings now, not wanting to disturb the masses just one room over, but it’s still loud enough for him to get a little lost in it. He matches the strokes of his sponge with the tune he’s singing and even starts to wiggle his hips along. It’s hard not to want to dance to this one — Bennie and the Jets, because it came on the radio in the car while he was making his rounds to pick up the kids, and it’s been stuck in his head ever since.

Most of the dishes are clean now, so all that’s left is the silverware. The casserole dish was the last of the major pieces. Steve’s just finishing rinsing it, letting the excess water sluice off the sides before he sets it on the kitchen island with the other plates waiting to be dried.

In the process of turning, two things happen at once:

1. Steve squeezes his eyes shut and tips his head back as he belts out the chorus, “She’s got electric boots, a mohair suit, you know I read it in a magazine, oh. B-b-b-bennie and the jets!”

2. His eyes fly back open to land right on Eddie. where he stands in the doorway — no, leans in the doorway, like he’s been there a while, like he’s gotten comfortable.

So, the thing is, Steve likes Eddie.

As in, he kind of wants to date him. And to kiss him. And to be his boyfriend.

But, he also doesn’t want to tell him that. Not in so many words, anyways. Those have never been Steve’s strong suit, words. He always messes them up. Never picks the right ones, always ends up sticking his foot in his mouth. The thought of sitting Eddie down and making some big… confession is mildly (extraordinarily) terrifying. Big speeches and grand declarations usually are — don’t let the romcoms and the chick flicks fool you. They’re never as easy as they look.

He doesn’t not want to tell Eddie, though, either. So it’s… well, it’s a tricky situation.

Until Robin, brilliant brainy genius Robin, suggests that instead of telling him, he should just show him instead. That way Steve can avoid the dramatic deliverances and still get his point across, just in a way that’s comfortable for him. On his own time. At his own pace. He can gradually show his hand, can drop hint after hint until Eddie gets it (and Robin is confident that he will in no time at all).

So Steve does.

✨

shake it loose together | 6.3k | steddie

In the process of turning, two things happen at once:

1. Steve squeezes his eyes shut and tips his head back as he belts out the chorus, “She’s got electric boots, a mohair suit, you know I read it in a magazine, oh. B-b-b-bennie and the jets!”

2. His eyes fly back open to land right on Eddie. where he stands in the doorway — no, leans in the doorway, like he’s been there a while, like he’s gotten comfortable.

✨

to my heart i must be true | 14.4k | steddie

Robin starts to smile, this big, evil grin that unfurls slowly across her face, and oh. Oh no. That’s not good. That’s never good. That always means trouble.

Robin sticks her hands on her hips and juts her chin out at Steve. “I bet I can get a Valentine’s date before you can,” she says, all arrogance.

Dustin and Lucas oooh at her fighting words, then turn to Steve for his rebuttal.

“Robin, Robin, are you sure you want to do that?” He asks, standing to his full height. His shoulders roll back, and he feels the patented Harrington Charm flooding back through his body like a switch has been flipped.

“Absolutely certain,” Robin replies, not backing down. She holds out her hand.

Steve shakes his head at her, then lets an easy, confident smile curl his mouth. “You’re gonna regret that,” he says, then smacks his palm into hers, “but you’re on.”

In which a bet is made, Steve’s prowess shines until it doesn’t, and sometimes things don’t end up the way they’re planned.

Sometimes, they end up better.

✨

i was thinking maybe i could lay beside you | 3k | steddie

Their room is the last door on the right, just like Joyce told them.

Eddie pushes inside first, immediately flicking the lights on. He spots their bags in the corner and beelines straight for them.

Steve, on the other hand, freezes in the doorway.

Because, oh. Oh.

There’s only one bed.

Which — Steve doesn’t know why this surprises him. This isn’t a hotel. It’s a guest room at a friend’s house. Of course it’s not going to have two beds in one room. He doesn’t know why he was expecting that.

But it’s — it’s fine. This is cool. He can share a bed for the night. He’s shared lots of beds in his day. There’s nothing different about this time.

Except that there is because he doesn’t have to share with just anybody. He has to share with Eddie.

Eddie, who hasn’t even batted an eye at the bed situation. Eddie, who seems cool as a cucumber about it. Eddie, who—

Who’s already shucked his shirt off and has his thumbs hooked into his sweats, about to tug those off too, and jesus fucking christ, Steve can’t do this. He cannot do this.

✨

in all your blame, in all your pain | 2.4k | steddie

When Eddie had gotten dragged headfirst into this alternate hellscape dimension, DnD monsters-come-to-life nightmare shitshow, no one told him that by the end of it he’d be offering himself up as bat bait to do his part in putting an end to it all.

No one told him that he’d wind up mangled and shredded and torn apart, but still, somehow, alive.

No one told him that he’d be bedridden for months afterwards, as his body stitched itself back together. That some days would be painful at best, while others would be downright excruciating. That he’d barely be able to walk at first, or bathe himself, or even eat on his own.

No one told him that healing would be the most grueling part of it all.

But those were all things that Eddie could get over. Things that, with time, he could forgive. After all, it’s not like anyone had known that that’s how it was going to play out.

What Eddie could not forgive, however, was the fact that no one, not one single member of their rather large, rather extensive party had told him just how much Steve god damn Harrington loved to play Florence fucking Nightingale in the aftermath.

✨

come and rest your bones with me | 2.6k | steddie

“We’re making a fort.”

Steve is barely even halfway through the door when he is accosted with the declaration. His slick raincoat is still zipped up, his wet umbrella still wide open and dripping onto the porch behind him.

“What?” He asks, fumbling to close the umbrella and shake it out before a stack of blankets are being shoved into his arms.

“We are making a fort,” Eddie repeats, grinning at Steve. He’s got his own heap of blankets bundled against his chest, and when Steve glances past his shoulder he can see that the bones of said fort are already mostly established — Wayne’s armchair has already been moved from its cozy corner of the room to now sit directly across from the couch, and the coffee table has been pushed to the side so as to not be a nuisance to the building process.

And, well, it sounds like a lot of fun, actually.

“Yeah, sure, alright,” Steve replies with a huff of a laugh.

✨

hash brown, egg yolk (i will always love you) | 2.8k | steddie

Six months is a long time to be apart. A long time to go without seeing Eddie in the flesh. Without hearing his laugh, low and melodic, right against the shell of his ear. Without hugging Eddie around the middle and hooking his chin over Eddie’s shoulder while he stands at the stove and pushes something delicious around a pan. Without kissing Eddie.

But so is the way of being married to a hotshot musician with a band that has more than made it big.

Because that's what Eddie is. And, god, Steve couldn’t be more proud.

Even if it does mean that sometimes he and Eddie have to go long stretches of time without seeing each other.

But that doesn’t matter anymore. Because Eddie is home now, and he’s going to be home for a while. Corroded Coffin just wrapped up the European leg of their tour (“Fucking Europe, Stevie! Can you believe it!”) and they’ve been given a month before their North American leg is set to start. A whole entire month that Eddie already promised he will be spending at home with Steve.

Starting today.

✨

stuck to the gum that's stuck on your shoe | 2.1k | platonic stobin

“Talk to me, Steve,” Robin says, “please.”

And now she sounds upset, and that makes Steve feel even worse.

He doesn’t want to say it, doesn’t want to make Robin feel bad. She’s been so excited ever since she got that letter in the mail, going on and on about the linguistics program she’d been accepted into, about the campus and how gorgeous it is, about the surrounding city and how much there is to do there.

Steve doesn’t want to rain on that parade more than he already has.

But he knows that she’s going to wheedle it out of him eventually. Might as well rip the bandaid off now.

He can barely bring himself to say it. It hurts too much to acknowledge. But he does, because he has to. Because he will have to.

“You— you got into college, Rob. You’re going to leave,” Steve finally tells her. Whispers, because if he says it too loud he thinks he might break again.

“Oh, Steve,” Robin breathes.

✨

i wish i knew how (your eyes are like starlight now) | 10.6k | steddie

“Mistletoe!” Robin cheers, and Steve’s heart stutters so hard in his chest that he thinks it might crack his ribcage and drop right out the bottom of his stomach.

His eyes fly up, and, sure enough, there hangs one of the many sprigs hung all around the apartment. Small and inconspicuous, but unmistakable. That ridiculous little plant has no idea that it’s just turned Steve’s entire world on its axis.

Across from him, Eddie’s eyes are trained up too, big and round and wide where they stick on the mistletoe. His lips are parted in surprise, and Steve can’t help but stare and think am I going to kiss those now?

When Eddie finally tears his gaze from the plant and lets it flicker down to Steve, a pretty pink dusting blooms across the bridge of his nose and spreads into the apples of his cheeks when he finds Steve already looking back.

Steve spares the mistletoe one last quick peek before he takes a deep breath and steels himself. This is it. He sticks his hands on his hips, aiming for casual, and asks, “What do you say, Munson?”

Or, Steve makes a promise, Robin likes to meddle, and the spirit of Christmas strikes (out) again. And again. And again.

(Until it doesn’t.)

✨

under my umbrella | 5.8k | steddie

Steve sidles up to the bench. Munson stands at the other end of it, arms crossed tightly over his chest, glaring out at the street as if that will make the bus show up any quicker. His bangs are flat against his forehead, the rest of his long hair lank and wet over his shoulders.

He looks like a drowned cat.

So Steve holds out his umbrella. Tilts his chin and raises his eyebrows at Munson as an invitation to step under and get out of the rain.

Munson looks at the umbrella for less than a second before he turns back towards the street with a scoff. “No thanks,” he says. “I’m good.”

“Dude,” Steve says, dumbfounded.

“Dude,” Munson parrots mockingly.

“You’re really going to turn down my umbrella?” Steve asks, still holding it out.

“I really am,” Munson replies, showing all of his teeth in a rancorous smile. “Now if you don’t mind,” he adds, taking a large step forward, closer to the curb and further from Steve.

Steve lets out an indignant huff and pulls his umbrella back to himself. Only just refrains from muttering an unsavory name under his breath because he’s a good person now.

Whatever. Let Munson get soaked. Let him freeze.

✨

temptations of trouble | 2.8k | steddie

Eddie ignores the flip flopping in his stomach as he meets Steve’s gaze and fits his palms to either side of Steve’s jaw. Cradles his face like he’s something special now. (Because he is.)

And then he leans in to kiss him. Right on those pretty pink lips of his.

It’s short and sweet like it always is, but when Eddie pulls back and opens his eyes, he’s met with Steve’s, wide as fucking saucers, goggling unblinkingly back at him. He can feel Robin’s stare boring into the side of his face, can feel the tiny pinpricks of Nancy’s and Jonathan’s and Argyle’s on his back too. The whole room is quiet enough to hear a god damn pin drop.

Eddie is about to open his mouth and ask what the hell that’s all about when it finally catches up with him.

He just fucking kissed Steve fucking Harrington. On the mouth.

✨

waving down the wind | 10.3k | steddie

Eddie furrows his brows, and he’s about to ask Steve what he did come over here for, when Steve starts to shrug out of his jacket. Rolls his shoulders back and lets it slide down his upper arms.

“I came over here,” Steve starts, and he gives his arm a shake when the sleeve gets caught around his elbow. Once it’s off, he bunches his fist into the fabric of the collar. “To give you this,” he finishes and holds out the coat.

Eddie blinks down at it. Then he looks back up at Steve. “What?”

Or, three times Eddie looks cold and Steve does something about it, and one time he’s toasty warm.

✨

the world will follow after | 2.6k | steddie

Another glance at the clock and Steve really has to leave now. He barely has time to shove the piece of toast Eddie, so graciously, made for him (crisp, but not too crunchy, and definitely not burnt, with just the right amount of butter spread thin across the top) into his mouth before he’s running towards the door.

He’s about two steps away from it, hand already reaching for the knob, when Eddie catches him. He gives Steve's shoulders a squeeze, then spins Steve around and reaches for his collar next, fussing with it until it’s straightened and flat. He pats Steve twice on the chest and gives him a smile.

“All set now,” he says. Then, “have a nice day at work.”

Steve, at the complete whim of his scrambled brain, smiles back, tells Eddie thanks, glances at his watch, curses under his breath, then leans in to kiss Eddie goodbye.

Then, just as quickly, he’s out the door and in his car and finally on his way to work.

It isn’t until he’s halfway there that it hits him what he’s just done.

He kissed Eddie Munson.

✨

from this moment on | 3.9k | steddie

Steve bought the ring a year after they started dating.

It was too soon, way too soon, even if everything they’d been through made it feel like they’d known each other, like they’d been in each other’s corners for forever. One year was entirely too early to be putting marriage on the table, especially when they were still so young. Not to mention, Steve knew that Eddie had a rocky relationship with the concept thanks to his parents, and, truth be told, so did Steve.

But none of that really mattered. Because Steve was that in love. He was that sure of them.

So he bought the ring. Without hesitation.

And he held onto it, for all this time. He’d had a gut feeling, back in 1988. And eight years later it’s still there. Still there and stronger than ever.

✨

can't hide the way you make us glow | 6.3k | steddie

“So,” Wayne finally says and looks between them. He gestures his can from Steve to Eddie and back. “Still just friends, huh?” He deadpans.

Steve chokes on his sip of beer, and a grin cracks across Eddie’s face.

“To the general public of Hawkins, sure,” Eddie responds smoothly, hand absentmindedly rubbing Steve’s back as he recovers.

Wayne narrows his eyes at him. “I ain’t the general public of Hawkins, now, am I?”

Eddie shakes his head. “No, I suppose not.”

When he doesn’t elaborate any further, Wayne lifts his eyebrows expectantly. Out with it, boy they say. He barely refrains from waving his hand in a go on then motion.

“Steve and I… we’re, uh,” Eddie’s smile turns soft around the edges, and his hand goes to Steve’s beside him, drawing it into his lap and lacing their fingers together, “we’re going steady now.”

Or, Wayne finds out that Eddie and Steve are EddieandSteve.

✨

good for my boy | 7.4k | steddie

Wayne lets the front door swing shut behind him, rattling and smacking into the frame audibly.

“Jesus, Munson!” A voice rings out — the freezer fiend’s, and definitely not Eddie’s. “Took you god damn long enough!” The head finally pops out of the freezer. “I got tired of waiting and — oh.”

The stranger’s hand slips from the handle and the freezer door thumps shut. As does the stranger’s mouth when he looks right into the face of, not Eddie Munson as expected, but Wayne Munson.

Wayne briefly recognizes him as the Harrington boy.

or, the first time Wayne Munson meets Steve Harrington is a complete accident.

✨

if you have a minute | 10.6k | steddie

They pass the cigarette back and forth for a few quiet minutes. And there’s something about Eddie’s presence that’s helping just as much as the nicotine.

Eddie holds the cigarette back out for Steve, blows the smoke out in a smooth, steady stream, and tilts his head. “You working tomorrow?” He asks.

Steve shakes his head. “Not tomorrow. Why?”

Eddie pushes himself off of the wall. “Great,” he declares and grins. “We’re doing something then. You and me. I’m gonna take you somewhere.”

Steve’s face scrunches. “What? Where?”

Eddie tuts and wags his finger. “Nope, not telling you,” he says. “You’ll find out tomorrow. Meet at my place at nine. Don’t be late.”

He doesn’t give Steve a chance to argue or further question it. Just throws a little salute and turns on his heel, disappearing around the corner.

Or, the one where Steve’s anxiety doesn’t get the hint that they defeated the Upside Down, and Eddie knows just how to help.

✨

and stars, and stars, and stars | 1.5k | steddie

“What are you even painting?” Steve questions, unable to keep himself from asking. Eddie hadn’t told him his plan when he’d first laid Steve out and gathered his brushes — just instructed Steve to stay still and let him paint, he’d see soon enough. But Steve is curious, and it’s been almost an hour now.

Steve carefully tips his head to the side and presses his cheek against his folded arms, trying his best to catch a glimpse of Eddie where he sits atop the backs of Steve’s thighs, bent over his canvas in concentration. His tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth, like it always does when he’s focusing hard enough, and a piece of hair dangles against his cheek, escaping the bandana he’d tied it back with.

“I’m painting an essence,” Eddie answers cryptically, and he draws the brush in a broad stroke, low on Steve’s back.

“An essence?” Steve repeats. “An essence of what?”

“An essence of you,” Eddie says simply. The brush dots Steve’s upper back now, light little taps.

Steve doesn’t know what that means, but he’s looking forward to finding out.

✨

i want to hold your hand | 14k | steddie

The film isn’t even on Steve’s radar at this point. He couldn’t say what’s happening anymore, but he doesn’t even care. Forget Geena Davis, forget Jeff Goldblum, Steve can’t stop thinking about Eddie Munson, right there next to him, hand inches away from his own.

Steve’s pinky twitches out, like it’s got a mind of its own, towards Eddie’s hand. His heart is in his throat, breath caught behind it, as his pinky hovers, trembling. He could touch him. Wants to touch him. To hook his pinky over Eddie’s, curl them together, maybe even link the rest of their fingers too.

He’s never wanted to hold somebody’s hand so bad before.

✨

promise me nothing, live 'til we die | 2.9k | steddie

“You’ve seriously never had your first kiss, though?”

Eddie snorts. “Why do you sound so disbelieving? Come on, Harrington. I don’t exactly have a long line of suitors winding out my front door, vying for my hand or anything. Nobody wants to swap spit with the local freak. They might catch something.” He gives Steve a scrutinizing look. “I’m not like you, King Steve.”

“I’m not worried about catching anything from you,” Steve says.

Eddie tilts his head, perplexed. “Okay… thanks?”

Steve shakes his head. “No, I mean, if no one else wants to, I will.”

“Will what? Line up outside my door?” Eddie scoffs.

“Kiss you,” Steve says and knocks all the air out of Eddie’s chest. “I’ll do it.”

Eddie’s eyes have got to be as big as dinner plates as he blinks at Steve. “What?”

✨

harlow gold | 4k | platonic steve & nancy

Nancy is pretty sure that she could talk to Jonathan about it. He knows a little something about being the black sheep, and Nancy doesn’t think he would judge her for it. But they’d only just broken up, and while it was a mutual decision and an amicable split, she doesn’t think it would be fair to turn to him so soon after for advice about the feelings she already has for someone else.

She doesn’t have any girlfriends to talk to either. Robin is kind of the first close female friend she’s had since Barb.

And despite this budding friendship between herself and Robin, Nancy can’t turn to Robin. She’s the type to ask a lot of questions, and she doesn’t give up easily. She’ll push until she gets the answers she’s looking for. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but Nancy isn’t so sure she’s ready for that kind of inquisition. Not about this.

Which only leaves one person that Nancy trusts enough with something as delicate as this, one person whom she is comfortable enough to confide in:

Steve Harrington.

✨

sloe gin fizzy, do it till you're dizzy | 6.7k | steddie

Eddie scoots down on the bed until he’s level with Steve and turns onto his side, shifting closer in the process.

The movement draws Steve, and his head lolls to the side to see what Eddie is up to.

It brings them nearly nose to nose, and Eddie goes a little bit cross-eyed focusing on Steve.

Steve doesn’t flinch away from the closeness. Just breathes and blinks. And then his eyes flicker down to Eddie’s lips and right back up, so quick that Eddie’s hazy brain would have missed it if he hadn’t been paying attention, hadn’t been anticipating it.

Eddie takes it as the invitation it has to be, and slowly, slowly closes the distance. His nose does bump into Steve’s as he enters his space, but he pauses, hesitates with his mouth hovering a hair’s breadth away from Steve’s.

He waits for the rejection, for the brutal shove away, for the disgusted “what the fuck man?”.

But they don’t come.

What does come is Steve’s mouth, pushing forward to press against Eddie’s.

✨

it's my feeling we'll win in the end | 6.3k | steddie

Eddie thrusts his hand, fisted around the diploma, into the air like he’s god damn John Bender on the football field, and he lets out a triumphant whoop.

He hears his friends go crazy in their seats again, and when he finds them in the crowd once more he sees that Dustin has climbed up onto his chair, one hand gripping Steve’s shoulder for support while the other is pumping through the air. He’s shouting Eddie’s name, and so is Mike, who is clapping so hard his hands must hurt. Lucas and Max each are holding one corner of a sign spelling out “Eddie the Conqueror” across the center, with hand painted flames licking around the words. It makes Eddie laugh, bright and buoyant, and he shakes the diploma through the air some more.

Eddie’s chest feels tight in the best kind of way as a sudden tidal wave of emotions body slams him, clogging his throat and forcing him to take a sharp, deep breath through his nose. His nostrils flare with it, and a hysterical sort of laugh bubbles up. It’s just, he’s never been this happy before. Never been this proud. Never felt this good.

He’s smiling so big that his cheeks hurt. He feels like he’s walking on fucking air. He did it, he fucking did it.

✨

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merlot-and-chardonnay · 5 months

Text

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 5

Chapter 4

-----------flashback: King's Landing, Day of the Tourney-------

It was day of the tourney. Nobles and knights had come in from all over the realm to watch or participate in the spectacle. And based on what you heard, the timing couldn't have been more perfect as Queen Aemma had just gone into labor.

Rhaenyra had asked you to accompany her by her side when the tourney started. You had noticed the princess had been a little on edge, which made sense given the state her mother was in right now. Hopefully this day long event would distract and, gods be willing, her mother would come out of her labors with little to no complications for both her and the newborn child regardless of the sex.

Before joining the princess at her spectators' box with her father, friend, and others from the family and small council, you found yourself at Daemon's tent, hoping to get a sneak peak of the prince before he took part in today's festivities.

"Ooh, look at you," you say as you walk into Daemon's tent. The prince in question just had his armor in place, which included his dragonesque helmet

Daemon heard your voice and turned to face you; he smirked a bit, feeling confident from the look of admiration at your face, "do you like what you see?"

"Oh, I sure do," you nod, approaching him and placing a hand on his shoulder and another on his chest, "I've always had a...certain weakness for men in armor.

"Well then," Daemon leans in, deciding to flirt back, "I may not be able to request your favor during the tourney, Little Lark, but perhaps you may grace me now with a kiss as a gesture of good luck...maybe a little something more to make up for denying me last night after I was so generous with you."

You smirk back and lean in, like you were going to give him a kiss, but instead you stop and whisper, "it was your choice to use your tongue on me, Prince, I never asked you to." Daemon groaned as you pulled away, you unable to hide your smirk at the power you currently had over this man, "besides," you continue, "can't have you distracted before the start of the festivities." "I said I was sorry," Daemon pouts like a child. "You actually didn't," you say, placing a hand on his cheek, "but when you win, I'll give you all the kisses you want. ANYwhere you want. It'll be worth it."

Daemon made a small smile, a glimmer of hope in his eyes, "I shall do my best then to earn those kisses." "Good luck, Prince," you laugh a bit and exit the tent to join Rhaenyra at her box.

------present day: Kaer Morhen-----------

You walk into the dinning hall with Ciri, seeing Geralt still there at the table with Lambert, Eskel, and Coen.

To your surprise, you notice Lambert holding Aemma in his arms.

"She really grows on you, doesn't she?" Eskel says, leaning in to make faces at the baby. "Yeah, when she's not screaming for ma in the middle of the night that is," Coen mutters, taking a bite of some bread, "but she is adorable. If only we knew who the father was."

"Well, we can rule out Geralt," Lambert jokes, "given that being a witcher had made him seedless."

"Very funny," Geralt deadpans, sipping from his mug.

"Seriously though," Eskel states, looking into the baby's face, "I don't think I've ever seen anyone with this type of blonde hair, it's almost silver." "And violet eyes," Coen adds, "unusual, unless the father was part elf."

"You people are really that eager to know who the father is?" you interrupt the conversation, getting the wolves' attention.

"Oh uh, good morning, (y/n)," Lambert greets. "Don't you lot have super senses or something?" you ask, taking a seat at the table, "I thought you would've heard Ciri and I walking from across the hall."

The witchers exchanged looks. "We got distracted," Coen provides for an excuse, "you daughter was distracting us."

"Really?" you snort, "far as I can see, she's been quiet this whole time."

"Uh, Lambert, I can see you and Aemma are having a special bonding moment, but I'd like to spend some time with her now," you reach out and the witcher gives you to her, seemingly reluctantly, "Huh, I never would've expected this from you." "To be fair, none of would expected this," Eskel smirks. "Why is this so surprising?" Lambert asks in disbelief. "I may admittedly be a little rough around the edges but I'm not a fucking monster."

"Hey, watch you language," you scold, giving Aemma a kiss on the cheek.

"Why is your face flushed?" Geralt asked Ciri as she took a seat next to him. Ciri straighten up a bit thinking about an answer to give him, "I uh, I was warming up in my room before we start training." "Oh she was warming up alright," you say with a smug look. Geralt frowned at you and her, not sure what that meant.

"Uh, where's Tris?" Ciri looks around. "We were running low on herbs in the alchemy lab," Geralt tells her, "She went with Vesemir to go gather some more."

"Knowing Vesemir, that'll be an all day task," Lambert snorts, "they have to be the right height, growth, and some other shit like that."

"Lambert," you scold in a firm tone, "Not in front of Aemma." "How is that swearing?" Lambert exasperates, "I heard you say that over and over again last night!"

"Huh?" "What was that?" you and Geralt perk up.

Eskel, Coen, and Lambert exchange looks, "these walls are kind of thin," Eskel points out.

"Gross," Ciri mutters, taking a bite of food.

You felt your face heat up realizing what that meant. "Uh, Ciri" you ask hesitantly, "did you...?" "Nope," Ciri says quickly getting up, "I thankfully don't have witcher senses." Geralt had a look of confusion on his face. You lean in to ask him, "Geralt, did she ever get some kind of talk from her grandparents before...?" "I did, I don't need to have it again!" Ciri calls out, practically running out of the hall at this point.

The other witchers couldn't help but chuckle at this awkward situation.

Thankfully Aemma started fussing to be fed again, "I better go feed Aemma now," you say, quickly getting up.

"What, you can stay and whip em out for-" Lambert calls out, only to get nudged in the ribs by Geralt and earning a stern look from the white haired witcher.

----------------flashback: Red Keep Post tourney------------

It was late in the night when you roamed the halls, intent on getting some sleep.

It had been a long day.

The tourney, the death of the Queen and her newborn son, the funeral that followed after, it was all a lot to process right now.

You weren't close with the king or queen, but Rhaenyra was clearly grieving from the loss of her mother and newborn brother. When you were called to entertain her, she had you stop in the middle of your first song, which was a mourning song in elven which seemed appropriate for the occasion. With tears in her eyes, the princess had you dismissed early. You couldn't blame her, she needed some time alone to process her grief.

You had thinking about how the queen had died, having heard what the maesters did, cutting the poor woman open in order to save the babe, all without sedatives or herbs to numb the pain. You could only imagine how horrible the procedure it must've been for the poor queen, and how painful her death must've been; if this had been in any of the courts in the Continent, at least a mage would've been there to help ease the pains of labor and have spells on hand to turn the babe or sedate the queen if it came to that.

If you ever found yourself with child, you would pray you would be on the Continent when the time came to give birth.

You also thought about the king, and how he must've felt being in this position. You knew Viserys loved his wife, and to be put in this situation to choose to save his son or risk losing both, and only for both to be lost anyway...

You looked to see the door to Daemon's chambers was slightly cracked open. You didn't know if the man was in there right now, but you had no interest in knowing, especially after what you heard what he said earlier among his men.

Right when you passed though you heard his voice, "where do you think you're going at this hour, Little Lark?"

That moment, the prince came out and approached you.

Before this, you were having a great time watching this man compete.

Daemon may had asked for Lady Alicent's favor at the tourney earlier today, but you knew his gazed was fixed on you when you stood by Rhaenyra's side.

You were about to turn, but Daemon was quick and pulled you back, "you finished earlier then usual this evening," the prince states. "Let me go," you struggle. "Why would I do that?" Daemon asks with a smirk, "have you forgotten so quickly what you promised me?" "You didn't win," you point out, "I'm not obligated to give you anything."

Daemon grabbed your chin so you can face him. "Why put yourself through this hell you created?" he questions, "you want me, I know this."

"Why would I want you, especially after what you just said?" you scoff, succeeding in pulling back. "What I said?" "Your sister-in-law is dead, as is your nephew," you bring up, "your brother and niece are grieving from the loss, but instead of grieving with them you run off to the Silk Street and drink and celebrate your status as Heir. From what I heard, you referred to the dead babe as 'Heir for a Day'." "He was," Daemon points out, "even less then that as he only lived for a few hours."

"You truly have no shame," you say in disgust, "all you care about is yourself. You have got to be the most selfish, arrogant, insufferable person I've ever had the misfortune to come across." "Yet, you've never stopped me or pushed me away before, Little Lark," Daemon points out. "Don't call me that!" you exclaim, "I hate it when you call me that! I'm not your pet, I'm a person. And you're not a dragon. You...you..." "I'm what?" Daemon asks, a dark look in his face.

"You're a snake," you spat out, "A spineless, limbless snake." "I'd watch your tongue," Daemon warns, "this is a battle you can't win." "Ha, don't make me laugh," you joylessly laugh, "You come at me like you did Ser Criston, I'm sure I'd be the victor. Especially if you beat your chest and shout to the crowd rather then wait for me to yield like some brainless rock troll!"

Daemon grabbed your hair and pushed you against the wall. You grab onto the hand that was holding your hair and try to yank him off, but he takes his other hand to pin your hand to the wall.

You struggled when to break free while Daemon merely stared at you darkly. You stop when you realized how close his face was to yours.

Next thing you his lips were on yours.

You feel a hand going under your skirts, but this time you slap him away.

"I mean it, Daemon!" you say with a stern tone, "I don't want anything to do with you right now. I would've made an exception after the tourney, but after that display of disregard for the life of your family, I had second thoughts."

"If I wanted lectures about my conduct, I would've gone to my brother," Daemon mutters, making you roll your eyes and turn away, "We all mourn in different ways," he continues, leaning into you, sighing a bit, "I didn't mean it. I'm sorry, (y/n)." "Don't tell me, tell your niece and brother, they're the ones who are hurting right now," you say. "I know. And they're not the only ones right now," Daemon says, voice muffled into your neck, "I kept my word not to stick my prick in other women as promised. Please allow me to keep grieving my way while also upholding my promise. I wish to hear your sweet voice again...please, (y/n)."

You sigh and turn around, ready to scold him again. But the moment you saw Daemon's face, you could see the tired look in his eyes, like he was bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. You've seen that look before, in the face of another man you once cared for.

The Queen was Daemon's family too, and he had suffered a loss.

You sigh, hands moving to card through his long, soft, hair as you press your lips to his.

He took you to his room and you allowed him to do what he needed, what he wanted, if only to make him forget for a while.

He was fast and rough at first, but as soon as he came inside you, his movements became slower.

When the both of you were spent, you rested your head on Daemon's chest as he pulled you in and gave you a kiss on the head.

"Sing to me, Little Lark," you hear him whisper.

You did as he request, singing the same elven song you sang to the princess earlier today.

Chapter 6

Masterlist

#geralt of rivia #geralt #geralt x reader #lambert #eskel #coen #ciri #vesemir #daemon targeryen x reader #aemma arryn #viserys targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen

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