#Wide Awake art car

[katerinathesaint]

stanford!subby!art x f!reader blurb? (probably too long to be a blurb)

warnings: smut, comfort, aftercare!!, slight dumbification?, handjob😁, pet names (sweet boy, baby), slight au bc art and reader live a nice apartment together and it has a spare bedroom that patrick uses sometimes, sub and dom themes, art being sad (the usual), arts foot catching strays, bad writing.

synopsis: arts having a rough day and just wants to relax:((, which you gladly help him with.

a/n: guys this is so rushed i know it’s bad please don’t yell at me or ill cum and cry at the same time please spare me there’s a reason i don’t right long blurbs or fics😖😖😖

Art should’ve just stayed in bed that day. It started off blissfully; he woke up, his arms wrapped around your waist and his nose nuzzled into your neck whilst you slept peacefully. His favorite place to be.

From there, it just all went down hill. When he got out of bed to head to the large bathroom you shared, he stubbed his toe on the doorframe, immediately letting out a quiet grunt of pain and a nearly silent ‘fuck’ and ‘god dammit’.

A little later, after his morning shower and such, he tried making breakfast; tried. His hand reached for the pan he was going to use to cook some eggs for breakfast; some protein before a long day of practice sounded good.

Except, the handle slipped from his fingertips and the pan immediately fell onto his foot, then slammed onto the hardwood floor. He leaned against the kitchen counter for stability, as he cradled his now injured (a small bruise formed later) foot.

Art had prayed that the loud ‘BANG’ didn’t wake you. Sometimes, you were a deep sleeper, other times you weren’t. Luckily, it didn’t seem to have waken you; not enough for you to walk in, at least.

Arts day went on that way for the next 10 hours. Once he made it to the courts, after almost being hit twice while driving there, his coach immediately made him warm up.

The practice that day was grueling, Art wanting to do nothing except to pass out in your arms. It was obvious his coach had a stick up his ass and decided to run all the players of their energy, including Art. Not that he had much energy to begin with.

Finally, after a long ass day of shitty luck, Art made it back to your shared apartment. Patrick’s car wasn’t there, meaning he was probably at some girls place for the night; shocker. He prayed you were still awake. Considering the time, you should be, but every now and again he’d come home to you napping peacefully.

Art walked in, the bag on his shoulder immediately dropping to the ground by the door. He walked a little further, his spirits lifting when he sees you wide awake, watching some tv show.

You turn your head when you hear the shuffling, lighting up at the sight of your boyfriend, and your facing curling in worry after clocking the dejected look on his face.

Art plopped down on the couch, his body slotting in between your legs as he snakes his arms around your waist, letting out a sigh.

You knew Art needed you. You could just feel it. You carded your fingers through his curls softly; the tenseness leaving his body slowly.

“What’s the matter, sweet boy?”

Art lifted his head, locking his gaze onto yours. You could see the exhaustion in them. Poor baby.

“Jus’ need you,” He slurred.

Figures. Too dumb to do anything. He needs you to do it for him.

“Tell me what you need, baby. Use your words.” You encouraged.

Arts brows immediately scrunched together, as he slowly shook his head, “I don’t know, I jus’ need you s’bad.”

Usually, you would push for more, knowing he can use his words. But you couldn’t help but pity him.

“C’mon, up.” You sit up from your spot, Art reluctantly lifting up as well. You drag him by his hand to the bedroom, leaving him standing by the bed as you lay back against the pillows and headboard. Art awaited your instruction.

You speak a quiet ‘c’mere’, Art immediately understanding your minimal language. Art layed himself against you between your legs, your chest against his back. You helped Art tug his shirt off, your hands quickly finding themselves running up and down his toned chest, your lips leaving soft kisses and nips at his neck.

He tilted his neck to side to give you more, letting out soft whimpers at the feeling. He bucked his hips, the boner in his shorts now extremely obvious. You nipped at his ear, the bucking becoming more frequent as he tried to gain some type of friction. Your fingers met the waistband of his shorts, lifting it before letting it snap back against his skin.

“Take them off,” You purred into his ear, his hands quick to move his shorts and boxers off. You remove your shirt that you had been wearing, no bra underneath. Your perky nipples met his back when he leaned against you again, his throat bobbing as he let out a soft moan.

His pretty dick, hard and leaking, was in need of attention, that much was obvious. “What do you say, Artie?”

“Please, please,” The boy was nearly in tears, his body squirming under you as your hand got closer to his throbbing cock. “Please, i’ve been so good, i’ll be good, just- please.”

How could you ever deny him after that? Your cold hand grasped his cock at the base, slowly sliding it up until it reached the tip, where you squeezed a little, just for the already leaking tip to leak a little more. Art threw his head back against your shoulder, letting out a loud moan.

You spread the pre over his tip, his moans getting louder. The noises he let out were just so pretty, you could listen to them 24 hours straight if you wanted.

Your hand found a quick rhythm, languidly sliding up and down his pretty cock, as you whispered sweet praises into his ear and soft kisses to his neck.

“You’re doin’ so good f’me, baby.”

Art was getting closer to his release the harder and faster you stroked, his grunts and moans getting louder. You knew for fact your panties were soaked under your shorts.

You could feel Arts body tensing up, his cock throbbing in your hand, “It’s okay, baby. Let go f’me. Let go.”

That’s all he needed to hear from you before letting out a pornographic moan, his back arching as his cum shot out onto your hand and his stomach. It went on for a few more seconds; Art always had big loads.

As he came down from his high, you peppered sweet kisses along his neck and up his jaw, before moving his body to the side.

His hand snatched your wrist as you lifted yourself from the bed, “Please, don’t go. Please,” He begged.

“Just gonna clean you up, baby.” You pressed a soft kiss to his head before grabbing a clean washcloth and running it under warm water. You brought it back, cleaning up Art and your hand before throwing it in the hamper.

Art didn’t care to get dressed after any type of intimacy, as he claimed it would break said intimacy. You slipped your shorts off and changed into a clean pair of panties, as your other ones were soaked.

You climbed into bed, dragging Art under the covers with you.

“Feel any better?” You asked.

Art simply looked at you and smiled before pressing a long kiss to your lips.

“I feel perfect.”

Good. That was your goal. You and Art feel asleep peacefully, cuddled up into each other’s arms. Thank god you helped him relax.

[sweetbans29]

Teach Me: The Art of Kissing (ii) - PB

Pairing: Paige Buecker x Reader

Previous Part - Next Part

Summary: You and Paige have been best friends for the last 6 years. You trust her completely. And it is because of that trust that you ask her a rather forward question. AKA - You ask Paige to teach you.

Warnings: best friend vulnerability, smitten Paige, kissing (obviously), suggestive, masturbation (not explicit - but there)

Word Count: 5.4k

Teach Me Masterlist & Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Here we go.

It was junior year of high school when Paige first noticed her feelings for you were shifting. She realized she was feeling more when the two of you decided to take a spontaneous trip in the middle of the night.

You and Paige were lying in your bed, scrolling through IG when a reel appeared on her screen highlighting a 24-hour diner that looked like it served the best breakfast food.

"Yo, look at this," she says as her arm comes over to you showing you the spot. "This looks so freaking good."

You grab her wrist, stabilizing the hand so you can watch what she is trying to show you. Your mouth instantly waters once they start showing some of their menu highlights.

"My mouth is watering." You say and release her arm.

Paige takes a second and you hear her groan.

"What?" You ask.

"It is Rochester," Paige says in a disappointed tone.

"Let's go." Is all you say to get Paige to shoot up from where she is laying.

"Wait, are you for real right now?" She asks, trying not to get her hopes up.

"Let's go get it," you say, sitting up yourself.

Paige jumps on you, tackling you back into the bed, and shakes you out of pure excitement.

"B!" You yell taken back by her excitement. You can't help but laugh as she finally lets you go and jumps out of your bed.

You grab a hoodie from your closet and look over to Paige - you toss it over to her knowing she is going to get cold. I mean it is 11pm. You grab another hoodie for yourself and the two of you take off on your mini road trip to get some bomb diner food.

You put directions into your phone and begin the 2-hour drive. The drive is filled with carpool karaoke and laughs. When the two of you arrive at the diner you order what feels like half the menu. The two of you sit there grubbing on the food.

"This is so much better than the video," Paige mumbles as she takes another bite. You nod in agreement, savoring the pancakes that you just put in your mouth.

When you are both stuffed to the brim, you check out and begin the journey back. It is on the drive that Paige puts on softer music. You thought she would fall asleep on the drive back but she seems wide awake. You are about a half hour from home and you take a little detour.

"Where are we going ma?" Paige asks.

"Ma?" You asked with raised eyebrows, this was a new one. She just shrugs with a little smile. You shake it. "You'll see B."

You make your way away from the town, away from the street lights to a little park. You kill your lights just as you park your car and Paige looks around.

"You didn't bring me out here to kill me did you?" She asks. "Because if you did, I am too full to try and run away from you right now." She says with a little laugh.

"That was my plan," you say now laughing with your best friend. "Fill you up with food so you can't run. No dummy. You don't recognize where we are?"

Paige looks around, taking longer than you thought it would for her to figure out where you are.

"Bonding day freshman year..." you say trying to re-jog her memory.

You see it click in her brain as her eyes get wide.

"I am still so sorry for that day," she says with a laugh.

This is the park where your dad brought all of his teams for a team bonding day at the beginning of the season. It just so happened that Paige her freshman year almost sent you to the emergency room. You turned out to be okay but it didn't help with your freshman year feud.

"You're just lucky I am okay," you joke with her as you get out of the car.

"Where are you going?" She asks but doesn't follow yet. You open your trunk and grab blankets from the back.

"Come on B," you encourage her as you begin walking into a pitch-black field.

"Wait for me!" She calls to you and you slow down for her.

You find your spot and begin laying down the blankets. You see her shivering and throw one of the blankets you have at her. You lay down and pat the spot next to you. She lays down next to you and you help put the blanket over her and cover yourself as well.

Once you lay back down, you let out a sigh - everything releasing from your body.

The two of you lay there looking up at the stars.

You scoot closer to Paige to draw some of her body heat. She brings her arm out for you to hold onto. Being physically close was nothing new to the two of you.

"This is one of my favorite places." You say, eyes filled with the wonder of the stars. "Whenever I feel overwhelmed or stressed I come here and just look up."

Paige lies there listening, wondering why this is only the first time you are bringing her here. She doesn't speak, waiting to see if you will let her learn more about you. Her heart swells when you do.

"I grew up coming to this park - it is where my mom and dad taught me how to play ball. I would spend hours here watching different people play on the courts over there and just absorb everything my dad would tell me about them." You say. You bring your head to her shoulder, trying to get more comfortable. "From then on, my mom would occasionally bring me here at night to see the stars whenever my dad was out of town for work. We would spend hours here pointing out shapes and just being present with one another. Those are some of my favorite childhood memories."

Paige hums.

"Give me your other hand," you say bringing the arm that isn't entangled with hers out from under the blanket. She does the same and offers it to you.

"Hold it up like this," you lift your arm, palm facing the stars. She reciprocates your movement.

"Whenever I feel like I am failing or like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders I do this." You say looking at your hand. You are so locked into your hand at the stars above that you don't see Paige looking right at you, ignoring the hand she has placed in the air because you told her to.

"It puts everything into perspective. It shows me how big the world is and how small I am. It keeps me grounded in knowing that there is so much more out there than what I am facing." Your fingers wiggle a little and a small smile finds its way to your lips.

"You do that for me," Paige says before she can stop herself.

You turn your head to look at her and realize she is looking right at you. You smile at her and give her arm a squeeze.

"Well, I am honored," you say. "I'm glad you are my best friend."

She feels her heart swell and then crack. It was then that she realized she doesn't know if she will ever truly be content being just your best friend. But doesn't want to say anything to ruin this moment. To ruin your moment.

It is later on in your friendship that Paige realizes you mean too much to her to say anything about the feelings stirring inside of her. So Paige threw herself into meaningless relationships or flings with girls that all had some sort of resemblance to you.

You release Paige from the hug. Part of you is surprised that she actually agreed to this but are super grateful that she said yes not knowing what you would have done if she were to say no.

"So when do you want to start?" She asks slightly scratching the back of her neck. You never made her nervous before but now she is standing before you, her heart rate picking up, and trying to keep her cool.

"Well considering the date is on Friday, maybe tomorrow?" You say. "You get out of practice at 8pm ya?”

Paige looks confused. “Won’t you be there?” She asks.

“No, Coach said he didn’t need me at this one,” you say.

The next 24 hours feel like a week to Paige as she anticipates what the first 'lesson' will be like with you. It is finally right before practice that she snaps out of her nervousness and is reminded that she has hooked up countless times and that you will be no different.

Paige gets through practice, not thinking of you once. It was one of the best practices the team has had and all the girls are on a high.

You are sitting on the couch doing homework when Paige gets back,. She walks in the door and you look up.

"Hey B," you say wrapping up your assignment. "How was practice?''

"Practice was solid - one of the best we've had so far," Paige says plopping down on the couch. She watches you as you finish up your assignment, occasionally pushing your laptop in a playful manner.

Paige loved bugging you while you were working. She would do anything to get a little reaction out of you in your focused state. And your reactions were some of her favorite things in the world. Now was no different.

"I am almost done, just let me finish this and then I am all yours," you say typing away to get it done.

Paige's cheeks heat up as she sinks back into the couch, opting to scroll on her phone while you finish.

Once you're done, you close your computer and let out a big sigh, leaning back into the couch with your eyes closed.

"That assignment was the definition of dumb, there was no point. It was just busy work for points." You say eyes still closed, now rubbing your temples.

"I'm sorry ma, if you're tired we can put on a movie," Paige says. It was a common thing for your tired nights to be filled with movies and you fall asleep within the first few minutes of it. Paige never minded, as she would typically be right behind you with sleep, then waking up with credits rolling and having to wake you up to move to your bed.

"No, no," you say sitting up. "We have a lesson, remember?"

Paige lets out a little laugh, "Oh I remember. How could one forget when their best friend/roommate asks them to show them how to kiss." She says teasing you a little.

"I mean I could always go ask Azzi, I am sure she would help me if you don't want to," You say knowing Azzi would never but wanted to poke at Paige.

"Oh hell no, she wouldn't be able to teach you like I could." She says in a cocky manner.

You let out a laugh. "Oh I know, Little Miss Campus Player." You say and Paige's demeanor changes.

"Hey, you know I don't like that," she says and you immediately feel bad. Leaning over to her, you grab her arms, unfolding them from her defensive position.

"I am messing with you, you know nobody thinks that." She begins to loosen up again. "But you do put yourself out there and girls love you which is why you are the one who is going to teach me." You say now sitting up, excited to begin your first lesson.

Paige sits up as well.

"Okay, what do I do?" You say looking at Paige and she just gives a little laugh.

"I think we should talk about some ground rules first," Paige says and you give her a questioning look. She continues. "I only have two. First, I need you to talk to me whenever we do anything. You need to communicate what feels good and what doesn't. You got to let me know what you are thinking okay?"

You nod and she gives you a look.

"Yes, okay. Got it." You say already breaking Paige's first rule.

"Second, if at any time you feel uncomfortable or any of it is too much, we stop. Okay?" She says.

"Okay," you say understanding the seriousness in Paige's voice.

"We are going to start slow," Paige says, and you kind of slump a little. "Today we are going to ease you in with how to kiss."

For some reason, you blush but give an attentive nod to your best friend. She stands and you follow wanting to question but deciding not to.

Paige speaks as if she knows what you are thinking, "It's less of an awkward position to start if we stand."

You are now standing there like an awkward child, arms by your side.

"Can I?" Paige motions to your hair and you nod. Her hands come up to take your hair out of your braid. Hers is already down, and dry from the shower she took after her practice. You get a whiff of her shampoo and take a deep inhale.

"Did you take my shampoo?" You ask getting distracted.

"Maybe." She says with a smile. "I ran out yesterday and took your bottle this morning." You scoff and take a step back. She gives you a look of 'now is not the time' and you step back to her.

"Okay, okay - sorry. I am just a little nervous." You say wiping your hands on your pants.

"There is no need to be nervous, I got you," she says and takes one of your hands.

You look up at your best friend and her eyes meet yours. You lick your lips and her eyes fall to them.

The number of times Paige has had to swallow the thought of kissing you has been too many times to count. She has to keep her cool now that it is finally happening. It still baffles her how you haven't been in a relationship or even been kissed for that matter throughout all these years. There have been countless parties where you have wandered away with someone for some time and Paige has just assumed things were happening. Paige would never stick around to really find out, taking a girl home of her own to get you out of her head. The morning after, the two of you would never really talk about what had happened and just go about your day.

Paige leans in and your eyes still don't leave hers. Your breath picks up as you feel Paige lift the hand she had been holding to place it on her waist. Her hand comes up to cradle your cheek.

"Are you sure about this?" She asks.

"Yes."

"I am going to kiss you now. Nothing major, just a simple kiss." She says and you nod. She doesn't move a muscle waiting for your verbal confirmation.

"Okay." You say and close your eyes, waiting for her lips to meet yours.

Paige leans down and her lips meet yours.

It's as if time stops. Neither of you move. You are taking in the feeling of somebody else's lips on yours and Paige is taking in you.

It was just a simple kiss but you wanted more.

Paige is the first one to pull away, already missing the feeling of your lips on hers.

Her eyes are still closed as you open yours.

"How was that?" Paige asks, monitoring her breath.

"That was nice," you say. "I wanted more." You admit and Paige's eyes shoot open. "Teach me more," you say starting a fire in Paige.

Paige's hands fall from your face and find your hips. Your hands are on her hips, accidentally giving them a little squeeze.

“Okay babe - just follow my lead,” Paige says as she reminds herself that she needs to go slow. You nod at her.

“I need to hear you,” she says already leaning in. Her eyes burning into yours.

“Kiss me B,” you say as your eyes flutter closed.

Paige takes one good look at you before bring her lips to yours for a second time. This time with a little more force. Her hands slowly finding the skin under your shirt, squeezing your hips.

You let out a little gasp and she uses it as an invitation. Her tongue collides with yours, savoring the newfound taste of you. You let her take the lead as her tongue explores your mouth.

Your hands come up around her neck, pulling her closer to you. Her body is already against yours but you want her closer.

Paige is overwhelmed by you. As much as she has imagined this, she never imagined it would be this good. You are sweeter than she imagined and your touch is electrifying. She’s enamored by you.

Her tongue continues to massage yours until both of you are out of air. Reluctantly you pull back, completely out of breath.

“That was hot,” Paige says and you blush. "Not bad for your first kiss."

"Well I have a good teacher," you say and it is Paige's turn to blush.

"Can we do it again?" You ask and Paige nearly falls to her knees. She would do whatever you asked but can't show the effect you have on her.

"Of course, ma," She says and brings her hand to your face again. "Do you want to try to take the lead this time?"

You shake your head no, "Not yet." She nods and leans back into you.

Her lips meet yours again and you notice it is a little different this time. Paige isn't going as slow as before and there is a fire behind her movements. Your hands come up to wrap around her neck and her hands slide down your backside. They squeeze the backside of your thighs and you take the hint - jumping to wrap our legs around her waist.

You let out another moan. Paige doing everything in her power to keep this just in the realm of kissing.

Paige sits down on the couch, hands coming back to your waist. Your legs straddle her hips, the kiss not breaking once.

Pressure builds in your center as Paige's tongue works yours so perfectly.

You begin to rock your hips - wanting to relieve any of the pressure in your core. It is now Paige's turn to moan as she feels your hips lightly grind into her.

Her hands stop your actions and you let out the lowest whine.

She continues the kiss, too caught up in it realizing when her hands begin to ease on your hips. allowing you to begin moving them again. Your hands come up to Paige's hair - running your fingers through the hair at the base of her head, giving it a light pull.

Paige's next move is unexpected. She lifts you up and throws you on the couch next to her as she immediately stands up. You look at her confused but she just grabs her keys and walks out of the apartment.

You are left on the couch - turned on and confused.

Paige didn't mean to bolt the way she did but she knew if she had stayed she wouldn't be able to stop herself.

She gets in her car and begins to drive. Once she’s on the road, she figures is a safe distance away from you she stops. She puts the car in park and sits there for a second before hitting her hands on her steering wheel.

How could she think this was going to work? Just casually being intimate with the only girl she has ever truly loved and be okay. The way Paige wanted to lay you on that couch and cover every inch of your body with her lips has her head spinning. You had her head spinning when she was so used to it being the other way around with girls. Her eyes close and her hand comes up to her face - her mind beginning to replay the events that happened not an hour before.

Your lips meeting hers for the first time. Your tongue moving so seamlessly with hers, allowing her full control of you. You straddling her on the couch with her hands on your hips. The way your hips moved on hers.

Paige's other hand begins to make its way down to her core as she remembers the sounds you made. The sounds you were making just for her. She begins relieving the tension she has been holding. She reaches her climax in no time, panting and cursing your name as she does.

When she was finally in a place to collect her thoughts, Paige thought about the whole situation again. She thought about whether it would be a good idea to continue with what you asked from her or if she should call it.

If she continued - she would have to figure out how to control herself when you would take the lead. Paige was so used to taking the lead. She knows that when it is your turn she is going to have to display more control of herself than she did today.

If she called it though - she would need to explain why she wouldn't do it anymore, why she couldn't. And sitting here facing the fact that there is a possibility of her having to admit her feelings for you, possibly ruin your friendship and lose you forever diminished the thought almost immediately.

After thinking it through - there was no choice, she had to keep going.

Not checking the time - she picked up her phone and called Azzi.

"P?" Azzi's sleepy voice rings in Paige's ear. "What time is it?"

Paige looks at the clock in her car and curses.

"Sorry Azzi, it's 2..." Paige says regretting bugging her friend. "I just -I..." Paige doesn't know what to say.

Azzi lets out a sigh having a gist of what Paige is going through as the blonde called her late last night explaining what you had asked of her. Azzi was the only person on the planet who knew Paige's feelings for you, she had an inkling when all the girls Paige would hook up with all somehow resembled you. You were oblivious of course.

It was when Azzi confronted Paige about it for the 50th time that the girl admitted she was completely and utterly in love with you but couldn't do anything about it. So whenever Paige would get overwhelmed by you, she would always call Azzi to help pull her back to reality.

"How did it go?" Azzi asks, knowing the sleep she had just awoken from is not long gone.

Paige sat there and talked for what felt like forever - talking about how she had never felt such a connection with anyone before and how easily you had her bending to your will. She talked about how scared she was and didn't know how she was going to keep her cool as the lessons became more and more intimate.

Azzi sat there listening to one of her closest friends, feeling the conflict and knowing Paige was bending herself backward over all of this.

"P, you need to tell the girl how you feel or you are going to combust," Azzi says with a sigh.

"You know I can't," Paige says frustrated.

"Well, how did you leave? Was she normal after your 'first lesson'?" Azzi asks.

"Well...I kind of just ran out," Paige mumbles recalling how she left you on the couch.

"You WHAT?" Azzi yells as she curses herself for being so loud.

"Her hips began to rock against mine and I couldn't take it so I bolted before I could do something I regretted..." Paige instantly fills with regret as the words fall from her lips. Her fleeting moment coming back to her. She threw you off of her and left without as much as a second glance.

"Paige...you need to go fix this," Azzi says and she says her goodbye.

Paige looks at the time, her clock reading 4:12am.

She makes her way back to your shared apartment, not sure what she is going to find when she walks through the door. What she found, broke her heart.

You were sleeping on the couch, in the same clothes as she previously left you in, curled up with your phone in your hand.

Paige looked down at her own phone not thinking about the possibility of you trying to reach her until now. She unlocks it and sees about 30 notifications from you, the last one coming not 30 minutes ago.

She comes up and squats next to you, brushing the hair from your face. Her touch jolts you awake. Your eyes find hers. Yours are filled with sleep as your body relaxes. You sit up slightly.

"Where have you been? I was so worried. Is everything okay? You ran out of here so fast." You say grabbing her arm, trying to find answers in her own tired eyes.

"Let's just go to bed, baby," she says as she helps you up from the couch and leads you to her room. You don't fight her as you slept in hers every other night. You crawl into bed and curl up next to her, sleep already plaguing you once again.

"Don't leave me like that again, B," you say as you drift off to sleep.

She kisses your head and mumbles something along the lines of 'I won't' before sleep takes over her body as she finally feels at peace.

You awake the next morning entangled in your best friend. At some point during your slumber, your places switched. She ended up wrapped around your torso, holding you tightly in place. You look down at her and admire her. She looks like a little kid.

Your hand makes its way through her hair and you feel the vibrations of her groan all throughout your body.

"Just 5 more minutes," she grumbles as she squeezes you tighter.

"Anything for you B," you say and continue to run your fingers through her hair.

Shortly after, the two of you get up and get ready for the day. Neither of you says much which causes a weird tension.

You walk out of your room and into the kitchen where Paige putting together some food.

"I'm sorry," you say to your best friend.

Paige's hands come to a stop and her shoulders fall. If anything she was the one who should be apologizing to you.

"If anyone should be apologizing it is me," she says still not looking up at you.

You timidly make your way to her, stopping a few feet away but now on the same side of the kitchen island.

"If I did something wrong or that made you uncomfortable, I am so so sorry. The last thing I want to do is affect our friendship B. If this is too weird we stop." You say not really knowing what could have caused her to run out like she did other than you doing something wrong.

You are giving Paige an out. The one thing she wanted almost as much as she wanted you.

It takes Paige a moment to gather her thoughts before speaking.

"No, no. I don't want an out. I am good. I just forgot that Azzi asked me to do something really important last night and I forgot." She says as she really hopes you don't see through her lies.

You don't push it, giving her a nod.

"I need to hear you, babe," she teases you, instantly lightening the mood.

A smile makes its way to your face.

"Got it B." You say as she goes back to finishing putting together her food.

You speak again, "I am ready to take the lead."

Paige nearly drops the knife she was holding and looks over at you. Her eyebrows raise and you see the Paige you know and love come back.

"Are you now?" She says, putting down the knife and making her way to you. "What's changed ma?"

"Well after you left, I had a lot of time to think about what we did." You say. "And I may or may not have looked up some 'How To' videos," you are blushing now.

Paige lets out a laugh of disbelief.

"You watched videos?" She says.

"Ya, well you left me and I took matters into my own hands," you say.

Paige's heart falls a little but refuses to make that known.

"Ok ma, go ahead. Take the lead." She says as she crosses her arms.

You slowly make your way to her. Paige's heartbeat picks up as she anticipates the feeling of your lips on hers again. Your hands come up to unfold her arms.

She lets you as they find their way to your waist. Your hands plant themselves on her upper chest as you begin to lean in.

"Make sure you communicate what feels good," you say teasing at the rules that Paige initially set between the two of you.

A smile makes its way to Paige's lips and you take the opportunity to bring your lips to hers.

You start off slow, trying to gain confidence.

Once you feel a little squeeze to your hips - something you are finding as Paige's way of signaling you are doing a good job, you ever so lightly swipe your tongue along her bottom lip.

She opens up immediately for you, allowing your tongue to explore hers. She lets you lead, just like you wanted. You feel Paige hum into the kiss, fueling you.

You push on her chest, causing her to get caught in between you and the counter. Paige gasps at the bold movement. You ease up on the kiss, pulling away slightly.

As you do, Paige follows you wanting more causing you to smile.

"How am I doing?" You say out of breath. Your face stays right in front of hers.

Paige's mind is spinning as she tries to form words. You decide she is taking too long and take her bottom lip and give it a little suck, followed by a little kiss to it.

Paige snaps as she goes absolutely feral by your movements.

In one swoop - Paige flips the two of you around, so you are now trapped between her and the counter. Her hands pressing you into the counter as she takes the lead. The shock comes with a gasp in which she takes the lead.

Her lips are working hard against yours, tongues fighting for dominance which only fuels her more. She is feeding off the fact that you are finding your confidence with her.

She lifts you up so you are sitting on the counter and your hands make their way to her hair, tangling it and pulling her closer to you.

The two of you spend the next few minutes savoring each other. Only pulling away when you hear Paige's phone ring.

Both of you are panting.

Paige walks over to her phone and answers it, having a brief conversation with whoever is on the other end. She hangs up and walks back over to you, you are still sitting on the counter.

She makes her way back in between your legs and you smile at her.

"I don't know what kind of videos you have been watching but you are more than capable with those lips lil lady," she says as her eyes fall to your lips.

You bite your lip and Paige knows she needs to step back before she caves. Before she does, she brings her thumb up to remove your bottom lip from being bit.

You watch as she steps back, still facing you. Only turning to go into her room and close the door.

Still sitting there, you watch her retreat into her room. You feel your heart squeeze as you try to swallow the rising feelings that are blossoming for your best friend. You have only one thought as you remove yourself from the counter and eat whatever Paige was making before your makeout session.

Well, shit.

AN: This wasn't supposed to be this long. Sorry. Let me know what you think about this and the series in general. And as always, thank you for your love and support 💙

[hunnylagoon]

Right Where You Left Me

Pt 4: The Sweetest Thing to Ever Scare You (Finale)

Ellie Williams x reader

I remember when I first saw you. I remember looking into your warm almond eyes and feeling butterflies in my stomach. But soon, when I looked into your eyes, I no longer felt the same warmth that I once knew. It felt as though you had killed all of the butterflies inside my stomach but yet, I still loved you.

Premise: You and Ellie are childhood best friends until you drift apart. Funny thing about soulmates is they tend to find their way back to each other. You and Ellie try to end the tireless war between you.

Warnings: Angst / drinking / violence / not really religious mentions in this one

Part one here!

Part two here!

Part three over here!

Guys I thought I posted this two days ago but I actually just saved it to drafts. Sorry for being an idiot lmao

I think that I have unlearned how to love.

That’s not even a word but there is no other way to tell you that I have turned myself cold.

Without partying to distract me and religion to fill in gaps of emptiness, I isolate myself and begin to write once again. I'm almost certain that my body has been telling me to write, that I need to pour myself into art as opposed to a girl I was friends with a million years ago.

I figure that I need to create rather than destroy but it might take me a while to do so.

The morning after I abandoned my faith on the church floor, I had woken up and expected Ellie to be gone, however, she was wide awake and playing subway surfers on her phone. Her hair is messy and her eyes are half-lidded. 

She turns to look at me when she feels the shuffling of the bedsheets; despite her doing nothing more than smile at me it is like an understanding passed between us, war is over.

Almost.

It's like I've forgotten how to be soft, I can't manage to get the words out that I need to, and the thought of it alone makes me cringe. "Breakfast?" I ask, unsure of what else to say.

Ellie passes on it and I awkwardly excuse myself, saying that I got called in to take a brunch shift at work. Of course, this is not true. What I do is get into my car and drive and drive until I get mad at myself for burning gas. 

The war between Ellie and I had ended but it didn't register in my head, I almost fell in love with it. Without the constant arguing and passive aggressiveness, there was nothing to put a wall between us and I wasn't ready to be vulnerable again. 

So I begin to feed Ellie the ugliest parts of me; I show her everything I'm sure she will hate but she doesn't, she's patient and shows me the kindness I have been looking everywhere for. Still, I am cold to her, I don't know what else to do. 

I try to push her away all over again but this time, she doesn't let me. Ellie comes into my room when I'm studying to sit on my bed so that she can be in proximity to me. Sometimes she'll ask me if I want to go for a walk or a late-night gas station run, all of the things we used to do.

When I'm angry at her, she lets it happen, she won't escalate the fight all she does is apologize and does what she can to fix it. Everything feels like it's in order again, Joel even starts to send me little text messages to check in on me and sends me Facebook memes that make him think of me.

As of now, we are setting up for Dina's twenty-first birthday. The living room, typically a space for casual gatherings and movie nights, had undergone a transformation. Vibrant streamers adorned the walls, and an array of balloons in assorted hues scattered themselves along the floor "Are balloons too childish?" Abby asks as she walks out of her bedroom.

"They better not be after I just spent half an hour doing all of these," Cat answers, giving her a scornful glare.

"They look great, Cat," I smile and give her a thumbs-up from where I am in the kitchen dumping bags of chips into bowls. "Should I make a veggie platter?"

Cat furrows her eyebrows "If you can finish it by yourself, sure."

"Cat, we aren't children, adults eat vegetables," Abby takes a seat on the couch behind Cat, investigating the hard work she's put into making the living room look nice for just one night "Isn't it weird that Dina is organizing her own surprise party?"

I shrug, placing a wooden cutting board down on the kitchen counter "I don't blame her, I don't think we've always been one hundred percent reliable, me specifically."

"But it's not a surprise if she knows about it."

"So?" Cat asks.

"So why are we calling it a surprise party if it isn't a surprise?"

"Why not?"

"Well, why can't we just call it a party?"

"I don't think it matters," I cut in, I begin to peel carrots and slice them up into quarters. Ellie comes out of her bedroom, she took a nap after completing her physics presentation, her hair in a messy bun, and she's in her typical pyjama uniform of sweats and a hoodie. "Hey, Ellie," I smile at her.

She rubs some sleep away from her green eyes "Hey," Ellie walks over to the kitchen island where I slice and chop vegetables and sits right in front of me. Even half asleep she looks like a statue of marble carved by a skilled hand.

Abby raises an eyebrow, asking 'When did you guys become friends?' without saying it and then it hits me like the plane in Lost. Ellie still hasn't told anyone about our history, our sixteen years of friendship is invisible to the eyes of those who think they know us well.

I'm broken from my thoughts when Abby speaks up "When are you picking up the cake?"

My heart drops "I'm not?"

Cat and Abby cast one another side glances while Ellie snatches a cucumber off my cutting board "Dina was handing out duties and you said you would take care of the cake."

I freeze, unsure of what to say "Nuh-uh." I shake my head like a child denying blame for breaking her mother's favourite dish.

"Yuh-huh," Cat shoots back. "How could you forget that?"

My mind fumbles for an excuse and somehow I land on "I forgot because I went temporarily insane from Lyme disease," What am I saying? "I got Lyme disease because I go camping in secret," I don't camp "And I never told you guys that I go camping because I'm deeply ashamed of it."

Now everyone looks perpetually confused, Ellie included "What are you talking about?" Abby asks, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Okay-well," I place my knife flat on the counter by the wooden cutting board, ignoring the odd spiel I just went on "I'm going to drive to-

"You dropped your car off for a suspension repair yesterday," Abby reminds me.

"Ellie is going to drive me to get a cake," I correct myself "I will be back to finish making my veggie plate." I quickly rinse my hands before grabbing Ellie's keys from the little jewelry dish on the island and yank the sleeve of her hoodie to pull her along.

Ellie doesn't say anything, she slips into some Crocs and we walk outside to her car. "Where are we headed?"

"Uh, hang on," In Ellie's passenger seat, I go on Google Maps to look up the closest bakeries that are still open at this hour, there are two, one a couple of streets away and the other one is across town and closing in twenty minutes. "Infectious Confections," I wrinkle my nose "That's a weird fucking name."

While Ellie tries to make conversation in the car I only speak when giving her directions to the bakery. She knows something is up and I can tell by the way she keeps glancing at me. I just can't manage to get it out of my head that she's still keeping me a secret. 

She pulls up to the bakery and I get out before she even turns her car off, she pulls the keys out of the ignition and trails behind me through the doors.

The bakery itself was rustic and clean, there were two display cases and tills one of the displays held danishes, croissants, cookies, scones and whatever those little swirly flakey things are called. The other display had a big chalk menu above it that read 'Cakery' Though what was in the display case was very sparse.  

"Hi," I walk up to the till, putting on the friendly smile and customer service voice that I usually only use at work. "This is pretty short notice but I was wondering if you had any cakes left or if I could get one made for today?"

The guy behind the counter is a scrawny teenager who looks like he has had a long enough day of dealing with annoying customers "We close in half an hour, there's not enough time to bake and decorate a cake." He explains it like he's said this to a million people, he's bored of the same phrases that his manager has scripted out for him.

"Any shot that someone didn't pick up their cake?" I ask, fingers crossed in the hope that he says yes.

"Let me talk to my manager," His voice drags on, and he turns around and disappears through a commercial kitchen door. I wait patiently, hands balled together in front of me as I rock back and forth on my heels. A minute or two later he comes back holding a bright blue cake with pink detailing of bows and mustaches, there's text on it that reads 'It's a...' gender reveal cake. "This is all we have left, they cancelled last minute.

I look back at Ellie to get her opinion, her eyebrows are furrowed slightly "Maybe we good just get some of those cupcakes and smush them together and smear the icing so it looks like a cake."

I wave her off "I'll buy it," I say this only because it is 5:41 and with each passing minute I am growing desperate, also I don't want Jesse to be disappointed that I fumbled the cake and ruined his girlfriend's birthday.

Angsty teenager puts the bright blue monstrosity into a cake box and charges me an absurd total for it, I bitterly tap my card on the machine. 

As I walk back out to Ellie's car I take a brief moment to look at the sky, it's the same hue as cotton candy and looks as if it had been projected from a watercolour painting, even after I get back into the car and Ellie begins to blast her old dad rock songs, I can't tear my eyes away from it.

After five minutes of silence from my end, Ellie finally asks the question that's been burning into the forefront of her brain "Why are you being weird?"

"Why haven't you told anyone that we met before we moved in together?"

Her dark eyebrows furrow "You haven't told anyone either-

"Yes, I have."

"Who?"

"Yara, Stacy, Kayla, Mitch, Nigel, Carmen, literally everyone from my work," I admit "I just haven't told people who know you personally so it can't make its way back to you because you clearly don't want people to know."

She falls silent, searching her mind for the right words. She clutches the steering wheel tight and looks dead ahead at the car's bumper-to-bumper ahead of us. "I just know how to slip it into conversation."

"I don't think it's that hard, you can just say that we were friends, you don't need to give an intricate play-by-play of everything that happened."

"Why is it important that people know if we're cool again?"

I turn my head to slowly look at her "You are the one who always said 'If we don't have honesty, we have nothing at all'," I point out.

Silence strings between us again, I almost want to throw up.

'We're cool again' Nope, not anymore, we are so very far from cool. Instead of Ellie casting me little glances as she had on the ride there, she ignores my presence almost completely while I glare daggers at her. Was she embarrassed by me? When we went to lunch together why did she lie to Dina about where she was? When she slept in my bed why did Cat ask me if I knew why Ellie came home at eight AM with nothing, not even a key? Did she crawl through my bedroom window to walk around to the front door and pretend she was just getting home?

AND WHY DIDN'T I CALL HER OUT?

She was keeping me a secret and that realization hurt worse than any injury I had ever suffered. She hasn't even told her dead who practically raised me that we lived together. 

God, we weren't even anything and she was keeping me under wraps like I was some disgraceful secret that she would get shamed for holding. The very second she approached our house, I got out of her car, she hadn't even stopped it completely but cake in hand, I hopped out of her car door and didn't look back.

I think I've had my fair share of partying.

After that month-long bender I had where I went to clubs every night and replaced food with vodka, I never wanted to even look at another solo cup full of liquor. Instead of drinking, smoking, or doing karaoke, I hide from Ellie.

I hide from her in conversations and sometimes sneak into my bedroom just to get a bit of breathing room from all of the strangers in my house. Wherever Ellie was, I was not. If she was outside, I was inside, if she was in the living room, I was in the kitchen enjoying my veggie platter. 

Have you ever been the only sober person around in a group of people? If the answer is no, have you ever babysat a houseful of toddlers? Because it's just about the same thing.

When I'm not hiding from the girl who wriggled her way back into my good graces just to trip herself off the podium, I'm cleaning up, protecting our furniture, holding back hair as girls I've never met sob into the toilet, and stopping the drunk from doing stupid things. 

"Hey, buddy," I take my can of hairspray that this frat-adjacent man is holding behind an ignited lighter "I don't think you would look good as a burn victim," His friends moan in disappointment as I do so, they were very excited to see a makeshift flamethrower; I wasn't in the mood to have my house burn down, or have a guy with peach fuzz waste my thirty dollar hair spray. 

Thirty dollars?

Note to self for later: Make smarter spending choices (And smarter relationship choices!).

I felt a tap on my shoulder only to turn around and see Dina, she wasn't drunk, just tipsy "Smile!" She holds up a camera to her eye and clicks the shudder button before I even have a chance to react the flash goes off. A large Polaroid begins to print out, Dina snatches it and shakes it until you can see my silhouette, my eyes are wide, my hair flying behind me from the quick turn of my head and I'm holding a can of hairspray angled to look like I'm going to spray the camera with it "Cute!" She smiles, tucking it into her pocket for later "Wait, I want a group picture of the roommates."

Dina takes my hand and pulls me to one of the couches where Ellie and Abby sit with some guy, she shoes him to get up and drags Cat over to replace him, she stands me in between Ellie and Abby and lightly pushes me down to sit wedged between the two.

"Jesse, please do not do me dirty with this picture," She hands the pink Polaroid camera to her boyfriend and quickly ushers herself to the far left of the couch where she bends over to kiss Cat on the cheek for the picture. Ellie and I are stiff and awkward when the flash goes off. 

After the picture is taken, Ellue turns to face me just the slightest "Hey, I think we should talk-

"I think it's time for cake!" I push myself off the couch and usher myself to the kitchen. 

I pull the cake out of the fridge, looking at what I had done to salvage it; Below the part that said 'It's a...' I wrote '21 year old!' in chocolate pre-made Betty Crocker icing that I had in the fridge for months, it didn't look the best, but it could've been worse.

Dina, of course, cackles when she sees it. To her, it is the funniest thing she's seen all night. I stick the candles in and light it with the light I confiscated from peach fuzz frat boy and push the cake towards Dina after tucking the light back into my pocket, she is illuminated in the glow of iPhone flash all filming her.

"Make a wish!"

Age Sixteen- Grade 11

I think back to how embarrassing it felt to be thoughtful.

How fragile I felt when I would share my feelings and how frail I seem when I do it now. Ellie was always tougher than I was, in rugby, in fights, just in general. That's why I figured she would be taking it better than me when I cut contact, once again I have been proven wrong.

"Conner, can we please just leave?" I pleaded with my then-boyfriend. The night had started fine but after a couple of drinks Ellie and I were becoming increasingly hostile to one another, it wasn't my intention to speak to her but the universe forced my hand when we were shoved into a circle of our friends and made to converse around the bonfire at the beach.

The salty breeze carried the sounds of laughter and the gentle crashing of waves, the scent of roasted marshmallows wafted through the air.

 "What, you need your boyfriend's permission or something?" Ellie held a can of berry blast Smirnoff, staring into my soul from the other side of the fire, the sparks glitter through the night like fireflies. Her words don't feel too bad but they don't feel too good either.

I cast her a glare before I looked back to my boyfriend "Please?" 

He is getting perpetually annoyed with me he shrugs away from my grasp, "Fuck off, we just got here," He mutters, Conner must think I couldn't hear it. He had already downed three Bud lights and a couple of shots of cheap vodka, now he is nursing another beer in hand. 

"Excuse me?" I say, narrowing my eyes. Everyone around the fire pauses their conversation to tune into mine. "Come on," I stand up and try to pull him along so we can have a conversation away from the prying eyes of our friends.

I can't pull the mass of the 6'2 quarterback along with me but he obliges and follows me where I yank him. As I drag him along the rest of the group giggle and makes jokes along the lines of 'Trouble in paradise' but Ellie is the only one who doesn't jump back into mindless conversation, her unnerving eyes are still on me while I chew my boyfriend out by the shoreline. 

"Why do I have to leave just because you're feeling a little bummed out?" 

I'm almost floored at out someone can lack so much empathy "Because you're my boyfriend?" I can feel myself tensing up.

"Why does that mean you can't get up and leave on your own?" He defends "You begged me to come here and now I just wanna down a couple of beers and hang out with my friends."

"You've already drank like twenty!" I retort.

"It's a fucking party!" Conner says, raising his voice "It's a party and it's summer and you're seriously trying to tell me not to have fun?"

"Fuck!" I shout in frustration "Why don't you ever call me? Why can't you ever let me in?" The argument is quickly escalating "Why didn't you tell me that you kissed Tamar and why haven't you told me that you love me?"

"Because I don't."

My words fail me. I knew he didn't, I knew that he hardly even liked me. My dad had thought so highly of him, she said he was the type of guy to rescue a baby from a burning building but as I look at him now, I figure that he eats babies.

I almost open my mouth to say something different, almost, but I don't. The rest of my life might have turned out differently if I didn't, I might've been able to salvage the rotting corpse of my relationship with Ellie but I didn't. "Fine," I say, voice calm and quiet "Let's stay."

Before that night I had never really gotten drunk but the second I got back to the bonfire, I was digging through the cooler and shotgunning canned Smirnoff. "Woah," Riley laughs "Someone's finally being a bad influence."

I got myself so shit-faced that when everyone else got up to dance to the music blaring through the Bluetooth speaker, I sat by myself at the shoreline, looking bitterly out towards to ocean while the tides crash at my feet and get sucked back into the ocean. For a moment I think about jumping in and letting my lax body get washed away and sink beneath the surface until I wash up as a water-bloated corpse that some nine-year-old will find when they're beach combing.

My mouth tastes like peroxide and blood, my lungs burn with a red-hot pain. The wind is becoming increasingly harsh and I ignore the hair that is tangled into my golden hoop earrings.

"Wow, you look awful," I don't need to turn around to know who it is.

"Can you just fuck off?" I say "I don't give a shit about you, just leave me alone."

She always had to antagonize me, Ellie went out of her way to stray from the group and bother me. It had something to do with the alcohol in her system. Despite her alleged hatred for me, she takes a seat next to me regardless.

"Fuck, you're so sensitive," She scoffs "I don't know why you're dating him, I'm not even sure why you'd want to fuck him unless you're too lazy to jerk off-

My hands think before my head and I deck Ellie right in the side of her face, getting a solid hit to her cheekbone. My hand flies over my mouth "I'm sorry, I-

Ellie doesn't waste any time in lunging back at me, she pushes me down by my shoulders until my back is in the shallow of the water that moments ago just splashed at my feet and takes a swing. The impact of her punch almost knocks me sober.

I take a sharp inhale, grabbing her elbows and pulling her down to where she was the one on her back and I was the one straddling her. I land one last blow to her nose, I hear a crunch and the panic immediately sends me scrambling to my feet. My eyes go wide at the blood dripping down, her face I turn to run but Ellie is faster, she grabs me by my hair and yanks me down further into the water with her. 

"Fucking cunt!" I cry, though my scream is drowned out by the overwhelmingly loud tides crashing on the shore "Get the fuck off me!" 

Ellie is better at fighting than I am, I had never been on this side of her before, usually, I had been the one to drag her away from fights but now I am the one who is going to stumble home numb from the devastating pain.

Frankly, I'm fucking scared.

She continues to drag me by my hair until I'm knee-deep in the water with her, she almost throws her entire weight into me, dunking me beneath the surface where her bony hands snake around my neck. My eyes have gone blurry with the salt water, they sting and burn. I can't see anything, all I can do is uselessly thrash beneath her. My hands push against her face, trying to pry her off my body. 

Eventually, I manage to claw her face with my fingernails, I dig deep enough that it breaks skin and she recoils just enough for me to knee her in the stomach and let me get out from under her. Just as I try to slip away she reaches for my hair again, but instead of tugging on my hair, she rips out my gold hoop earring. I screech out in agony, hand reaching for where the metal sliced through the lobe of my ear, I shudder in pain; my cries are now jagged and harsh.

This is the exact moment Ellie begins to regret what she's done. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to." Her tone softens and she tries to approach me but I back away from her like a frightened dog.

"Get away from me!" Despite the pain surging in my body, I find the strength in me to hit her again, she staggers back tripping into the water. I hit her so hard that I feel a crack in my knuckle and I yelp out in the immediate shock of pain. 

I wasn't sure when the others had noticed this was happening probably because my vision had gone blurry from salt water and adrenaline but before Ellie could hit me again, she was being restrained by Riley and Kennedy while some guy who I had probably had two conversations with dragged my back to shore.

I keel over on my hands and knees and begin to start retching onto the sand. Laila rubs a gentle hand on my back, my hair sticking wet on my forehead. A seagull, disturbed by the commotion, took flight, its wings cutting through the charged air. 

Next to the pile of vomit I just heaved, blood drips down from my ear, pooling and then soaking into the sand. My neck swells from what is still the raw sensation of Ellie closing her hands around it. 

I look up at Ellie, there is blood that has dripped its way into her mouth, clinging to her white teeth. She has what almost looks like a cat scratch running down her cheek, blood begins to prick and spill from the lacerations.

She stares back at me and we don't say a word but we understand each other clearly, I never want to see you again.

"Let's go," Ellie grabs my arm as Dina begins to slice the cake "We're gonna fix this right now."

"Ellie, there are so many people here," I say in a hushed tone so people can't hear me.

"I don't mean here," She looks at me, face expressionless "Just get in my car."

"Excuse me?" I say, tone accusing "Did you just order me to get in your car?"

"Fuck," She sighs, dropping my wrist to rub her hands down her face "Please can you get in my car so we can work this through."

"There's nothing to work through," I retort "You're embarrassed by me or you still secretly hate me and that's fine, I meant what I said on winter break about the lease, the second it's up, I'm getting the fuck out of here."

"What? No, don't- just," She takes a breath, reevaluating what to say "I have a point to make but I can't make it unless you get in my car."

We stare at each other for a moment, I narrow my eyes and she is still unmoving. Every scenario runs through my head of what could be waiting for me in that car.

"Fine."

I sit silently in her passenger seat, my knees are pulled into my chest and I rest my chin on them. Ellie doesn't say anything either as she drives. I watch each traffic light pass me, every street name to try and make sense of where we are going.

I almost feel like I'm going to suffocate beneath the silence of everything going left unsaid.

When I spot the boardwalk up ahead, I know exactly where she's taking me "Ellie, why are we at the beach?" I give her a side glance "Do I need to take out my earrings?"

Heat rises to her cheeks when I say this, "Not yet," She jokes, getting out of her car and grabbing a tote bag from the back seat, and I follow in tow.

We walk past the boardwalk and onto the sandy beach, I'm already not feeling whatever she's doing; there is sand filling up my Converse and a slight wind chill, I'm really wishing I had a hoodie right now. "Can you tell me what we're doing yet?" I'm hugging myself in an attempt to stay warm "If we're still walking on the beach why couldn't we have just walked on the boardwalk instead? It literally has walk in the name." I'm already going off on one of my tangents.

She still walking ahead of me but she briefly turns around to face me "Can you just stop asking questions for a minute?"

"Okay, whatever," I mutter, trailing behind her still. I can hardly see in the night, the only light to guide us is the moon and the warm ceiling lamps from restaurants along the boardwalk. I can vaguely see Ellie's silhouette, she's outlined by the gentle glow radiating off the moon, I try my best not to stumble over things poking out of the sand that have been lost to sight by darkness. 

"Okay," Ellie stops, "Here we are."

"Where are we?" I ask "I can't see shit, I don't know where here is."

Ellie digs around in her pocket for her phone and turns on a flashlight and it reveals a small iron firepit that was cemented into a slab of concrete in the sand. She hands me her phone so I can keep the flash on her and she can see what she's doing. 

She pulls out some pages ripped out from her notebook "Can you hand me your lighter?"

My eyebrows furrowed, and I felt around in my pocket wondering if I even had one. I did, it had slipped my mind that I still had the bic lighter that I confiscated from Peach Fuzz. I hand the lighter to her and watch as she tucks the pages beneath logs that were in the firepit before we arrive, they are somewhat charred but still viable.

She flicks the lighter to ignite it and the paper catches immediately. The initial flicker grew into a tentative blaze, licking at the edges of the kindling. The crackling sound echoed through the night. 

Once she is sure the fire can survive without her feeding it, she steps away. "Alright, let's have it out."

"Like sex?" I scrunch up my nose.

"Oh my god, no, like let's talk this through." She pinches her nose bridge, taking a breath in before exhaling and putting her hand back down "We're gonna recreate the night of the bonfire how it should've been," Ellie reached back into her bag and pulled out two white claws "I snagged these from Dina's party, sorry this was kind of last minute."

I can't help the smile that grows on my face, I take one of the white claws and crack it open "I don't know how authentic this is gonna be if there isn't any canned Smirnoff."

I think back to exactly how that night played out and I take a seat on the sand, facing the crashing dark ocean. I sip my white claw, as expected Ellie takes a seat next to me, just what happened on the actual night.

"Wow," She says "You look really pretty and I'm an idiot for ever saying you looked awful," Ellie looks gorgeous illuminated by the orange light of the fire, and the breeze causes her flyaway hairs to drift in the wind. "I'm an asshole for pretending that I didn't know you, I was scared I would get hurt again and take it to heart like I did last time. I promise the second we get home that I'll come clean."

I don't know if I can deal with this sugary philosophy. She's being so sweet that it's rotting my teeth.

"Ellie," I say gathering my thoughts, it was so hard being honest with my feelings, it felt like I would get hospitalized if I showed any emotion. "I was so in love with you in high school that it killed me, and I was terrified that my parents would throw me out well, they did- but that's why I pushed you away and there isn't a day that goes by where I don't regret it." 

The surprise on her face morphs into a soft smile "What about now?" she asks "Do you still love me?"

I shrug, it's honest "I dunno, but I think there's room to try."

She looks from me to the ocean and the way the moonlight glitters off the surface "What happened next?" Ellie toys with the tab of her drink "Did you hit me?"

"Yeah," I say softly, following her gaze out to the waters "But if we're doing the night how it should've been, I'd rather just kiss you."

Ellie turns her head back to look at me. She shoves her white claw into the sand then takes my face into one of her hands and kisses me like it's her job, so tender and carefully like she's afraid I will break beneath pressure.

How weak have I become? My heart is so full of her that I can hardly call it my own.

A/N: Be grateful for this ending because I was very tempted to give you guys an unhappy one. Sorry that I forgot to post this lol, I’m sad this series is over but excited to show you all my next one which may be the angst-iest yet 👀

Thanks for reading!

Tag list: @elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliesaesp @melanie-watermelon @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @skylerwhitwyo @lmaoo-spiderman @joliettes @kittnii @taylorgracies @sameenatruther @mikellie @belles-hell @fullmachinegirl @eveshyper @whosmica

[aliensubstance-011]

Fiddlestan AU!!

AU where Ford gets into West Coast Tech, but Stan manages to (somehow) get into Backupsmore and gets roomed with Fiddleford! 

Stan was kicked out after Ford left (because if his brother was ready to leave home, so was Stan). Stan lived in his car & the public libraries he found (all his fake IDs are just fake Library Cards lmao. nerd). Stan also discovered he was queer (did drag for the prize money, then went OH. All these queens are treating me like this because I'm a baby queer. That makes sense. Guess I’m doing guys now.).

I like to think that Stan spent a year or two studying up after Ford left so when he gets in Fiddleford is in his second or third year! This does result in a “I'm your new roommate. You first year?” and Fiddleford going “What in tarnation... I'm THIRD year? How did we end up in the same dorm????”

At first they HATE each other- Fiddleford thinks Stan is reckless, and doesn’t know what he’s doing there, and that he’s kind of stupid, while Stan thinks Fiddleford is some stuck-up hippie who formed an opinion on Stan too quickly (he did). Once they do start talking they have a very quick ‘oh you’re actually not that bad’ moment. Fiddleford leaves before Stan, obviously, but they keep in close contact even after Fiddleford moves in with Emma-Mae. 

Stan and Ford have a huge argument about Ford not needing Stan anymore. Cue: “Of course I need you, you're my brother” “WELL YOU DON'T ACT LIKE IT”, which is another reason that Stan and Fiddleford leave together. Not long after this, around Stan’s graduation,  Fiddleford has a 'I'm gay and don't love my wife' moment, and Stan casually suggests running away, just driving (maybe something a little nostalgic in it, maybe when Stan looks back at his car he feels like he can hear a distant New Jersey shore). The next day Fiddleford shows up with a duffle bag of things, and Stan realises Fiddleford took him seriously. That he’s willing to run away with him, even if it’s not on a boat, that Fiddleford wants to. Stan gets very, very close to realising he’s in love that day. 

They run away after Stan’s graduation and just drive until they get to Gravity Falls! They set up shop there, with Fiddleford doing auto repairs (and making inventions on the side). Fiddleford confesses to Stan when they’re staying in a motel- he thinks Stan is asleep, so he just says that he thinks he’s in love with him, while Stan is laying wide awake in the bed next to him. Stan spends the next few days Freaking The Fuck Out while Fiddleford doesn’t acknowledge what he said. Stan thinks Fiddleford knew he was awake, so when he confesses back he says something along the lines of “I think I’m in love with you, too” and Fiddleford bluescreens.

Just General HCs:

Stan falls first, but doesn't realise until Fiddleford confesses.

Ford is still self centred but doesn't hate Stan. Stan resents Ford for not doing anything when he was kicked out, and a little bit for leaving him. He understands, though, why stay with your good for nothing brother when you have dreams across the country to fulfil? 

Fiddleford is Repressed Gay until he confesses his Awful Secret to Stan who's just like....”okay?”. He does get to the point of marrying Emma-mae, before he confesses to Stan. 

I don't quite know what Stan will be doing, both in Backupsmore and once they move to Gravity Falls. I like a little bit about him either doing Art or Law, but I feel as though he’s not willing nor smart enough (respectively) for either one.

Stan IS smart, don’t get me wrong, he just needs it to be something ‘physical’ that he can interact with. Fiddleford helps a lot with this (having gotten a lot of hands-on work while he was on the farm). 

I think eventually Ford does end up in Gravity Falls too, but by this point he’s distanced himself from everyone not because of Bill, but because of his own hubris. 

Because of Stan and Fiddleford being queer, I don’t think Dipper and Mabel would be allowed to visit them until their parents have no other choice- though they do hear a lot about their Grunkles and see them from time to time. 

If I did include a Bill/main timeline ish plot it’d be Fiddleford who gets tricked- maybe after Ford gets to Gravity Falls, and Bill offers a way to keep Stan happy/repair his relationship with Ford (maybe Fiddleford thinks Stan is going to run away- just without him this time. He knows Stan would never, but he could.) 

I’d probably include a B-plot where Stan thinks Fiddleford will cheat on him with Ford- they click immediately and so much better, Ford is so much smarter, he’s the better twin, because insecure Stan is my favourite thing ever. Just a small detail, but I think that Fiddleford is a lot more confident and stable with Stan, mainly because Stan has encouraged him to step out of his comfort zone so often, and has proved time and time again that all Fiddleford has to do is ask and Stan is right there to catch him.

I'm still not sure what Stan should do, so if anyone has any suggestions, let me know! That and drawing requests god let me draw them PLEASE.

[libraryofloveletters]

The Art Of Wrapping

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: uncle lew lew, he's so bad at wrapping gifts that even Roscoe is judging, some playful teasing, too many gift to count and a nice family night in.

Word Count: 597

Author's Note: it's not a lewis blurb with roscoe or his niece and nephew soooo also uncle lew lew is so special to meeeee

--

As he does every year, the house is filled with shopping bags and Lewis struggles to wrap all of his gifts. This year, he has a secret weapon; you.

Per usual, Lewis has gone overboard with the gifts.

It was his love language, he was a big gift giver and when the holidays rolled around he went into overdrive. You and Lewis were friends long before you became a couple, which meant you were well aware of his holiday predicament.

Not a big shocker when you see the living room floor covered in shopping bags, wrapping paper, gift bags and tissue paper. Lewis was sitting in the middle, trying to wrap what looked to be a lego set in wrapping paper.

You smiled, setting your purse on the couch. "You okay?" You asked your boyfriend and he huffs, leaning back onto the couch as he looks at you.

"This is so difficult."

"I take it your assistant is not much help?" You sat next to him and Lewis looks over to see Roscoe fast asleep next to the fireplace, a few quiet snores coming from the pup.

"No help at all, knocked out as soon as I sat down."

You laughed, pulling the wrapping paper in front of you and resetting the lego box on the paper. "It should not be this hard to wrap a gift," Lewis mumbles, watching as you carefully cut the paper, tucking the edging and taping them.

"How can you drive a Formula One car but not be able to wrap a gift?" You glanced at him, wrapping the red ribbon around the box, tying it into a neat bow.

Lewis rolls his eyes playfully, writing his nephew's name on the top left corner of the paper. "Thank you." He sets the gift on the couch, reaching over for the 6 more bags that were waiting.

"We're gonna be here a while, aren't we?" You look over at him, Lewis takes the gifts out of the shopping bags one by one. "Yeah, we are."

You and Lewis sit there for nearly 2 hours wrapping gifts in wrapping papers, bags, boxes and everything in between. You'd wrap and Lewis would hand you the tape and ribbons and write the names on the boxes and bags.

At some point, the couch was full and you two had finished the final present. Half of it would be dropped off to his sister's place for the kids and the rest would be shared as the days to Christmas went on.

"Do you think it's too late to drop them off now?" He asks, and you shrug. "Don't the kids have school in the morning?"

"Yeah but it's only 7:30, they should be up."

It's like you could read his mind, "I'll get Roscoe, put the bags in the car."

The two of you load yourselves into the car, Roscoe in the backseat and all the bags in the trunk before Lewis drives the two of you over to your sister's place. The kids were still wide awake when you and Lewis arrived while Roscoe made himself comfortable on his auntie's couch, while you two brought in the numerous bags that you had tried to fit into the trunk.

You watch the kids unwrap their presents, your hours of hard work scattered across the living room floor in the span of 15 minutes. The kids hugged both you and their uncle, thanking you for the gifts as they started to sort through their stuff.

"You really need to learn how to wrap presents," you whispered to your boyfriend, leaning into his side as you two watched Roscoe play with the kids and the wrapping paper on the floor.

Lewis laughs, kissing your head. "Next year."

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

corrupt!Nanami

A/N: For @mozlov. Enjoy! 🫶🏽

corrupt!Nanami shifted personalities like flipping off the light switch on a dark stormy night: Your big soft bear was more savage than ever. "You're not listening. She's not takin time off. And as long as y/n works here, so do I. End of fuckin story." Nanami snarls at Yaga. Rolling and flexing his shoulders like he's getting ready for a fight. He's always so ready to box these days. Especially over you. "Nami, its okay. Let's just go-" You're pulling at his dress shirt, afraid shits bout to go down. But Yaga simply holds up his hand for silence. "If you can control yourself while we figure out your condition.. Y/n can stay, but-" Nanamis already taking a step forward, eyes narrowed. You gotta put yourself in between them to make sure your husband doesn't swing. "We'll allow you on the grounds for visitation but you simply can't teach like this. Not at the moment, Kento." Nanami stares at him coldly for a moment before turning to you. The adoration in his eyes gives you whiplash, but it's relief when he puts away the malevolent beast and returns your loving husband. "Long as she's good, I'm good." Said with too much conviction, slowly rubbing a thumb over your bottom lip, shallowly dippin between your lips to tease the tip of your tongue. You gasp, eyes wide at at how quick Nanami goes through the motions. Fuckin guy is now starin at you like you're his prey. "But she's takin the day off." He quickly pulls you from the room without another word, Yaga starin at Nanami's back in utter disbelief.

corrupt!Nanami turns out to be fuckin elated not to be a teacher anymore and quickly loses his dedication to the cause. He's only interested in the art of slaughter, no longer needing a valid reason to pull out his cleaver. Tries, and often fails, to keep that shit to a minimum. Dont get it twisted, Nanami's a murderous bastard. Isn't limited to just killing curses anymore but anyone that gets in his way. Yet.. he's aware how that fucks with your conscience. Knows he can sleep like a baby after but doesn't fuck with how that shit keeps you up at night. So he hides his bloody clothes after a long day, making sure to shower before coming to bed and scooping you into his arms. Falls asleep peacefully as his mind flashes scenes from his lastest kill.

corrupt!Nanami no longer asks your permission for shit anymore. Bent over to pick somethin up? That ends up with your husband puttin you on all fours, giving you back breaking back shots as your try to crawl away. "Quit that, y/n. Told yo fine ass bout doin that shit, right? Bendin over so just so I can see.. 'S all your fault.. You know I can't help it. Ass is too perfect to ignore." It's worse when you try to work out. Always sneaks up from behind to grab you, accusin you of excersing for hours just to tease him. So you find your self in Nanami's lap, cock warming him as you try to catch your breath from your workout. "Aww.. Poor baby, so tired. Don't worry, won't take long. Dicks been so hard watching this whole time. Help me baby, please. You're the one that did this to me.." Christ you cant even get any sleep round your torturer, most nights waking up to his dick hard between your thighs. This times he's awake, thrusting slowly as he holds you to him tight, growling your name at your ear. "Been waitin for you to get up. Look what you did to me.. Throwing that ass on me in your sleep. Come on, y/n. Lemme fuck. Took everything in me not to fill your sleepy lil pussy. Deserve a reward, huh? Gonna help me out?" Not like he needs it since you already feel his first load starting to dry on your thighs.

corrupt!Nanami doesn't have any more patience for you excuses on why you can't give him a baby. Tired as fuck of talking to you about it. So takes it to the next level and starts to plot on you, replacing your birth control with placebos. Then.. He waits to catch you off guard one pitch black night when you're walking to your car from class. You're energy completely drained, you just don't hear him swiftly comin at you from the side. A huge gloved hand blanketing your lips, trapping your scream. Nanami's snatches your wrist together, brawny body restraining you to the car. You struggle against him, too fuckin weak to curse him due to your overwhelming day. But he knows that already; deceitful ass went through alotta trouble to make sure your itinerary was extra full today. "Shhhh." You ignore him, the familiar voice and planes of his muscled chest against yours back not registering, buckin and tryin with all your might to break free. Fuckin turnin Nanami on watchin you attempting to escape, juicy ass repeatedly trapping his dick between your cheeks as you wiggle wildly against him. He ain't waiting a second longer. Fuck your screams, he'll deal with whoever interrupts him accordingly. Lets go of your mouth to rip at your bottoms like they're paper, making your struggles double. Might as well be laying limp, absolutely no match for the 1st grade. Nanami unsheathes his cock, spitting in his hand generously and lubing up. You're body's tense as fuck when you feel him stab through your opening. Pitiful insides clutching his dick like a dear old friend. "Loosen the fuck up woman.." The fuck? "Nami?!" He let's go of your wrists, slamming his hands on either side of you to trap you further. "I told you to be quiet." Snatches your head back by your hair and thrustin the rest of his dick into you. "Nami!" Shrill cry piercing the air. It's uncomfortable without foreplay to prepare you, still he digs you out without remorse. "Shhhh, y/n.. shhh." Nanami squishes you to the car, molding your body to his. Strokin deep as he can, like he'll never see you again. Literally fuckin loud moans from your throat, so damn good that its not your fault your gettin wet; slick building and forming a white ring around him. "Shhhh. Screamin your fuckin head off, baby.. So you not gone listen? Never do. Just like when I told you I wanted to breed this perfect cunt, make you give me a pretty baby. But you didn't listen then either. Now look what you made me do." So that's what this is? The revelation makes you try to get away again but Nanami's hold on your locks keeps you right where he wants you. Sharp yanks that makes you shriek, scalp stinging. "H-hurts, Nami. 'M sorry. So sorry." You whine to him, body fallin pliant against your car. But your husband rolls his eyes. He aint buyin your BS this time. "Naw, you gonna take this nut. Gonna give me my baby, woman." Pulling you off the car and into his body, your husband pummels your lil puss likes he's in heat. "Ahhh fuck, y/n.. Love you. Love you more than anything, finally gonna show you how much, honey." You're disgusted. At doin something this at the school. At him for startin a family like this. Most importantly, at yourself for still loving him, knowing that this changed nothing between the two of you. Even as he breeds your lil puss without consent. "Here it comes- ohshitohshit! Daaaamn, y/n.. Got so much for you. Mmmm.. So good for me. Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you so fuckin much. Only want a baby with you. Only you, y/n. Always been only you." Youre whining when his hips still, Nanami pressin his dick deep as possible when he finally impregnates you. "Love you so fuckin much, honey." "Love you too, Kento.. Fuckin asshole." He chuckles, pulling out and tucking you into the car. "Let's go home, sweetheart. Gonna make your pretty lil pussy cum before I fill her up again." "Kay, Nami."

[flowersandshadows112]

Can we talk about how the song “Michelle Pfeiffer” by Ethel Cain (after Rain by the Sleep Token)is the ultimate Elriel song? 🥹🥀

The lyrics though:

And everything's easier way out west

Wholly mad and half undressed

I love the way it always feels to miss you

I tell all my friends every thing you do

A sick obsession that I still try to prove

And it's no good, 'cause who am I without you

And home's not home unless you're there

And I'll never be ready but I don't care

Wide awake all night thinking about you

Do you think of me too?

I hate to let you go, but if I don't then we both know

I'll bury us both, fed to the night (as ghosts)

I keep on losing track of time

'Cause what's the point if you're not by my side?

I told my mom about you, she just laughed

Driving with my eyes closed, hope I crash

Maybe we could be together in another life

Maybe this could be forever in another timeline

But right now, I gotta pack my bags

And I won't even miss you tomorrow

'Cause home's not home unless you're there

And I'll never be ready but I don't care

Wide awake all night thinking about you

Do you think of me too?

I hate to let you go, but if I don't then we both know

I'll bury us both, fed to the night as ghosts

Washed out days and stone cold nights

Best goddamn days of your whole life

Jack the car and let it ride

Kicking it, baby, we'll survive

I'm all run and you're all fight (fight)

Tangling with Jesus Christ

Total ruin idolized

But the kids will be alright

'Cause home's not home unless you're there

And I'll never be ready but I don't care

Wide awake all night thinking about you

Do you think of me too?

I hate to let you go, but if I don't then we both know

I'll bury us both, fed to the night as ghosts (as ghosts)

🎨Art by: Clarywhy

[f1bordeaux]

The String That Binds Us. (Chapter 1) | ln4, cl16

You fell in love with this sport all because of him. It would be selfish not to thank that boy for his help in getting you here today, even if you both ended on rocky terms. However, after finding yourself in the same paddock as your childhood bestfriend, your mentor, your first true love, and the boy who left you for the bigger picture, you realize that he wants nothing to do with you. So, as fate has it, perhaps you'll end up in the arms of someone else. Or maybe, just maybe, that string that has been tied to the two of you since birth will pull you back into eachothers lives. Warnings : none Pairings : Lando Norris x reader, Charles Leclerc x reader Word Count : 1923 Poetry style | Story style A/n: here, my lovelies, is chapter one. Not proofread srry lolsies. Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

one; y/n. 

There was something about it, something in the early morning rays reflecting off the cherry-red paint that just wiped away all exhaustion previously held in your bones. You were wide awake as you stared at the cars being rolled off the truck and into the garage. It was only five am but the sun had already crept over the horizon well enough to illuminate the sight in front of you. Golds and reds, blacks and yellows all mixed into a work of art nobody else could recreate. This is what you were here for. This is what you were living for.

“Gorgeous, innit’?”

You turned to your left, face to face with two others donning the same uniform as you. The woman who had spoken seemed a bit older than you, but now way had she yet reached her thirties. A man was accompanying her, although his eyes rested not on you, but on the tyres now being rolled out of the truck. He seemed close to her age, his deep-tanned skin a high contrast to hers.

You smiled at her before looking down at your lanyard. It was still so hard to process being here, on a Thursday morning in Bahrain, waiting for the weekend that was about to ensue. You were one of them now. You were an insider, a person that got to see everything on a deeper level. People dreamed of getting here, people worked their whole lives in hopes of getting here and yet here you were, 23 years old and face-to-face with Carlos Sainz’s car. It looked so much better in-person.

“It really is.” You sighed, looking back up. The truck was empty now, they were beginning to close the back door. “I still can't believe I’m here.”

The blonde lady leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of your badge. “Y/n y/ln? You're new, huh?”

You turned to meet her eyes, a large smile on your face. “Yes, I just graduated University.”

“What an amazing first job to have then.” She smiled back. The man beside her now looked at you as he adjusted the ballcap on his head. “I'm Bridgette, but everyone in the garage just calls me Bridge.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” You extended out a hand which she gratefully accepted.

“This is Lorenzo.” Bridgette nodded to the man who offered a toothless smile and his hand. “Enough standing around, we’ve got work to do. Walk with us.”

So you did. The garage wasn’t too far away, just around the corner, but Bridgette loved to talk; that you quickly found out. “Where are you from?” Was her first question.

“Bristol.”

“I hear it’s nice. They’ve got that beautiful river running through it, no?” She asked, looking straight ahead. You just nodded, unsure if she saw your response, but when she kept going you assumed she had. “I’m from Perth. Nothin’ quite like Australia, I must say.” “Isn’t Lando from Bristol?” Lorenzo added. His accent was thick as he spoke.

You nodded again, this time opting to expand on the question. “He is, yeah. We actually grew up together.”

Bridgette turned her head to look at you. “No way! Why didn’t your mate get you a job over at Mclaren?”

A blush coated your cheeks. You didn’t know where it came from, maybe embarrassment, maybe fear, hell, maybe even sadness. Lando wouldn’t have put in a good word for you, not today. Perhaps seven years ago when the two of you were teenagers and on a completely different page, but not now.

“We don't talk like we used to. He was gone a lot but he moved away for good when he was seventeen. He never really looked back, either.” You sighed. An odd sense of pity hung over the three of you. In an attempt to lighten the mood you clapped your hands together and smiled at the two engineers next to you. “But he got me into cars and engineering! So, I owe him a thanks for that.”

Bridgette nodded and pressed her lips into a thin line. “There ya’ go.”

The next few moments were rushed. The three of you entered the garage where people worked on putting everything into place. You were introduced to management and owners, mechanics and bosses. Tyres were being placed on racks, tarps were being placed over backup cars, tool boxes were being passed around. It was thrilling, even if you were just standing on the sidelines watching as it all happened. Soon, however, someone called your name. You were sure it was Bridgette or Lorenzo, but it was someone else. Alessandro, Charles' chief mechanic, was heading straight for you, clipboard in hand.

“Have you been assigned a team yet?”

“No, sir.”

He smiled. “Call me Alessandro. No need for formalities. But anyways,” He looked down at the clipboard then back up at you. “Our front jack guy broke his wrist and I need someone to replace him. Care to run some drills?”

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips. “I would be honored.”

“Awesome.” He nodded over his shoulder. “Let's go get you a suit and helmet, then.”

x

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t get the spot.” Bridgette sipped her coffee. “You absolutely crushed it.”

You blushed, rolling your finger around the rim of your cup. The Ferrari motorhome was gorgeous with its meeting rooms and rooftop balcony, with its relaxation spots and cafe. It really put into perspective where you were and who you were working for.

“Thank you,” You said quietly.

The day had gone by rather quickly. The sun was already setting over the desert and exhaustion clung to your body just as tightly as the uniform you wore. You’d spent hours running drills, practicing the most simple yet vital job-jacking the car up. You did it over and over again, improving with every run. After that you were tasked with doing inventory. Sure, it was a small task, one that didn’t require you to get hands on with the car, but it was still important. You wandered the garage counting tyres, drills, wrenches, going through tool bags and drawers. It helped you get situated in the space, to learn the layout and whereabouts of everything. Once you had finished that, you were offered to help wash Charles’ back up car. You gladly obliged, happy to be finally touching the car at least. You washed the tyres, the halo, the rear wing and a bit of the body before standing back to revel in the beauty of the car. It seemed to shine, even in the dim garage lighting. You felt so fulfilled, so privileged, so at home.

“Alessandro likes to give everyone a shot, he doesn’t discriminate.” Bridgette continued. “Today might have been your lucky break.”

“I’d be happy even being a back-up jack, honestly. Just wearing the fire suit and helmet makes me feel all,” you paused looking for the right word to describe it. “Giddy.”

“Well,” Lorenzo began, setting his phone face down on the table. “He needs to pick tonight so we can have that person participate in tomorrow's practice. You should know if you got it first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Guess I’ll be tossing and turning all night, then.” You joked.

A small laugh cluttered the table. It was getting late, the track becoming more and more empty with each passing moment. The motorhome was silent, save for the three of you lingering around. “We should go grab the last shuttle to the hotel,” Bridgette stood, taking one last swig from her cup before tossing it into a bin. “Are the two of you coming?”

Lorenzo stood up, as did you. “I left my bag in the lockers. I can wait for the next one if you both would like to go.”

“It’s ok,” he said. “We can wait for you at the front gate.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be quick.”

You jogged through the paddock, grateful that the heat had subsided. Lights poured out of each garage, illuminating pit lane in a way the sun hadn't. The sun, harsh and bright, brought a form of intimidation onto the pavement. The lights however, soft and orange, seemed to bring peace. It was a gentle reminder that at the end of the day, everything would be alright.

You dodged into the Ferrari garage, running to the back lockers to retrieve your backpack. Although your head was almost completely submerged in the metal box, you could hear faint-chatter? You leaned back, wondering if Bridgette and Lorenzo had come to find you. No, it didn’t sound like them. The voice sounded much more familiar. It was like listening to one of your favorite songs after a long while.

Lando paused at the entrance of the garage. His phone was pressed into his ear. He stared at you, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed. Did he know it was you? Could he see you? Did he even remember what you looked like?

You swung your bag over your shoulders and closed the locker. As you approached, Lando lifted his brows, erasing the confused look on his face. He surely could see you now.

“Hey, I gotta call you back.” He sighed. “Yeah, everything is good. See you tomorrow.”

A few feet separated you and him. You debated on starting conversation, on asking how he’s been. But you decide just to nod and walk past him. That is your plan until he stops you.

“Y/n?”

You pressed your lips together in a flat smile. “Hey, Lando.”

He looked you up and down. You were uncertain if he found your Ferrari uniform insulting or fitting. What if you were wearing papaya? What if you were sporting  orange instead of red? Would he be looking at you in the same way?

“So you really did make it, huh?” Lando crossed his arms over his chest, smirking as you avoided eye contact.

“I suppose so.”

“Have they assigned you a driver?”

You looked up for the first time since your conversation began. A bit of pride swelled in your chest as you said, matter-of-factly, “Yeah, Charles Leclerc.”

He blinked hard, shocked that you landed not only a job with the most infamous F1 team, but on their star drivers car. Maybe you were better than you let on. Maybe it was more luck. But deep down Lando knew how good you were. He was able to experience it first hand as a kid.

“Wow. Most people remain without a designated driver for their first year. They kinda’ just float around doing all the dirty work. At least, that's how it is at Mclaren.”

“Right.” You gripped your backpack straps like a kid. “Good thing I'm not over there, then.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you fell quiet, only the sound of nearby passing cars and people walking by filled the air. To any bypasser this surely looked sketchy. Lando Norris, Mclarens golden boy, and a new engineer for an opposing team, just staring at one another. How odd.

You broke the silence first saying, “Well I’ve gotta’ go. I have some friends waiting for me to catch the shuttle.”

Lando just nodded, staring at the ground as you walked by. As you passed Carlos’ garage, he called out, “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”

You could barely hear it with the way he spoke so quietly. But you stopped, turning your head and offering a real, genuine smile. “Yeah,” You breathed out.

He smiled back. “Good luck.”

[harrydracompreg]

-

The 2024 H/D MPREG Fest has drawn to its close for another year—and it is our immense pleasure to reveal to you your creators!

Your Fest Mods— @sassy-cissa and @timothysboxers —are thankful to all of you who follow this fest, contribute to its success and enjoy the works it creates.

We love to see returning participants and new creators and we welcome them and their ideas.

We love to watch our platform grow through your interaction with our content.

We love to see you celebrate yourselves and each-other with comments, kudos, reblogs, notes, and likes.

Thank you all! Until next time, that's a wrap!

♥

The master list for 2024 is below for your enjoyment!

Wrapped Around Our Hearts Fic || Teen and Up [PG-13] || 3.3 k words sassy_cissa (AO3) Pregnancy: Draco Summary:

Harry has middle of the night baby duty with a very wide awake baby.

-

'You're Alive' by The_HouseRyn Podfic || Mature [R] || 2 hours and 35 minutes CailynWrites (AO3) || cailynwrites (tumblr) Pregnancy: Draco Summary:

The most boring shift in the world, filled with Muggle car ride games to pass the time, was interrupted by a tow-head boy begging for help to save his papa and ultimately changed Harry's life from there on out. For the better, of course.

-

Falling In Love and Other Adventures Fic || Teen and Up [PG-13] || 69.3 k words Ladderofyears (AO3) || Ladderofyears (tumblr) Pregnancy: Draco Summary:

Scorpius Malfoy - aged eleven and a half and recently started at Hogwarts - tells the reader the story of how he came to be.

-

The First Heir (Not Specified) Fic || Mature [R] || 3.6 k words gnarf (AO3) Pregnancy: Harry Summary:

Their romance should have found an end the second Draco married Astoria...

-

Newborn Art || General Audiences [G] || Digital Art ComputerGecko (AO3) Pregnancy: Draco Summary:

Some moments from Harry and Draco's first days with newborn Scorpius

-

'Unwanted — Beloved' by gnarf Podfic || Teen and Up [PG-13] || 23 minutes timothysboxers (AO3) || timothysboxers (tumblr) Pregnancy: Draco Summary:

Feeling tears sting at the edges of his eyes, Harry picked the baby up and scooted inside. Who'd do something like this? Who'd discard a baby on someone's doorstep? On his doorstep?

-

Goodbye, Old You Fic || Explicit [NC-17] || 19.5 k words harDeehar (dryrsheet) (AO3) || conjinkies (tumblr) Pregnancy: Draco Summary:

As an alpha, Harry Potter should not have been an assistant for the newly minted Diversity department, and he definitely should not have been working under Draco. Draco seemed to be the only person who thought Harry was suspicious, but he was used to taking care of things on his own, anyway. Luckily, Draco was not as alone as he thought, and his understanding of Harry's intentions turned out to not be the only misjudgement Draco made.

-

Sweet Paradise (I Wouldn’t Leave Without You) Fic || Explicit [NC-17] || 32 k words DelphilishPM (AO3) Pregnancy: Draco Summary:

During Eighth Year, Harry dreamt of someone on an alarmingly regular basis. The dreams were very romantic regardless of how impossible they were—starting with blurry footage of their handholding, cuddling, and snogging. Then, things dramatically escalated. Or, How his dreams might not be a mere innocent coincidence. But an inevitable event destined to happen eventually.

-

In Silver Thread Fic || Teen and Up [PG-13] || 8.8 k words hollyandvice (AO3) Pregnancy: Harry Summary:

Draco has planned every part of his return to Britain to help his ailing mother. His plan doesn't include running into Harry Potter on his first day back at the Manor, or the implication on the tapestry in the hall that he has a son. Together, Harry and Draco will find the future that they deserve.

-

'Nothing Gold Can Stay' by Moonflower_Rose Podfic || Explicit [NC-17] || 3 hours and 48 minutes reveriepi (AO3) || reveriepi (tumblr) Pregnancy: Marked as a Spoiler Summary:

One summer evening, Harry Potter vanished in the middle of dinner with his friends. Four days later he came back. Sort of. Draco Malfoy is on the case.

-

Something Changed Fic || Explicit [NC-17] || 50.4 k words Jelliebabie (AO3) || jelliewrites (tumblr) Pregnancy: Draco Summary:

'I'm delighted to be the one to tell you, Mr Malfoy, that you are expecting.' What the fuck? Was this some kind of joke, or perhaps a hideous dream? *** Draco and Harry had both decided that hooking up was almost certainly a big mistake, but it's one they're not going to be able to forget in a hurry. Now they have to live with the consequences, which include some very unhappy teenagers, and plenty of opportunity for misunderstandings. A getting together story about how one decision can change the path you are on, and make up for years of missed chances.

-

A Little More Action, Please... Fic || Mature [R] || 10.5 k words skotini (AO3) Pregnancy: Draco Summary:

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are in a loving but secret relationship. But after their anniversary trip is a little too magical, it won’t stay a secret for long. What’s a concerned father like Lucius Malfoy to do? An heir needs to be legitimate, of course! Even if… it’s a Potter.

-

We Made Quite a Mess, Babe Art || General Audiences [G] || Digital The_HouseRyn (AO3) || the-houseryn (tumblr) Pregnancy: Draco Summary:

With their first baby on the way, Draco and Harry babysit Rosie, who makes them regret saying they could handle it. No wonder Ronald seemed so gleeful when he suggested they have "practice time" with Rosie before their baby arrived.

-

On the Other Side Fic || Explicit [NC-17] || 13.8 k words Maraudersaffair (AO3) Pregnancy: Harry Summary:

It wasn’t supposed to mean anything, especially since Draco was engaged to Astoria. Then Harry discovered he was pregnant.

-

Home Is Him Fic || Teen and Up [PG-13] || 2.3 k words flightinflame (AO3) Pregnancy: Harry Summary:

Harry doesn't regret letting Draco escape, even though he's alone. The chances they can steal together and the life growing within him are more than he ever thought he would get.

-

Very Simple Fic || Explicit [NC-17] || 9.9 k words hollyandvice (AO3) Pregnancy: Draco Summary:

Draco doesn't mean to keep the whole thing from Harry. It's just that he still forgets, sometimes, that Harry was raised by Muggles, which means he may not know that there are ways for men to get pregnant in the Wixen world. Oops?

-

Three's a Crowd (Four's a Family) Fic || Explicit [NC-17] || 18.6 k words annanotherthing (AO3) || annanother-thing (tumblr) Pregnancy: Marked as a Spoiler Summary:

“I fucking knew it!” Draco rounded on him. “I knew that’s why you were quiet this afternoon, but the Weasel told me I was going crazy!” Harry chuckled. “You trusted Ron on that? Are you mad? The man doesn’t notice someone’s change in mood until they slap him across the face! Do you remember last pub night?” Draco shrugged. “He’s your best friend, excuse me for thinking he knows you well.” “But you” Harry grabbed Draco’s hand and pulled him closer, “are my husband. And I can safely say that you know me better than anyone who has ever walked this earth. Oh, stop it.” Draco rolled his eyes, but his blush gave him away, staining pale cheeks as he relaxed into Harry, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Anyway, children. Shall we make a cup of tea if we are going to have this conversation?” - A revelation, a bet, an entirely predictable outcome, and the joys of having twins not in the usual way.

-

Forbidden Fic || Mature [R] || 15.3 k words hollyandvice (AO3) Pregnancy: Draco Summary:

When Draco rejects Harry Potter less than halfway through their Eighth Year, he expects that to be the end of things. Instead, Harry chooses to stake his claim. Together, they find their way to the future that awaits them.

-

See Me and Live Fic || Explicit [NC-17] || 37.6 k words DodgerKedavra (AO3) || DodgerKedavra (tumblr) Pregnancy: Harry Summary:

Harry and Draco are roommates. They're coworkers. They're secret boyfriends. And now they're having a baby together!?

[florencemtrash]

Hummingbird: Chapter Six

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?

Masterlist

Warnings: Mention of violence and injuries

“Why didn’t you call me? Esto nunca debería haber sucedido.”

“Hey, it’s alright. Keep your eyes open ok?”

“Mantén los ojos abiertos. Stay awake, Y/n. Mantente despierto por mí.” 

“Is she going to be ok?”

“What’s going on? What happened?!”

You forced your eyes open, blinking the sleep and time from them as your mind slowly worked to clear out the fog. Voices had murmured to you throughout your sleep, whispering words that sounded kind and gentle, but you couldn’t hold onto the specifics of what they said. 

Pain shot through uncooperative arms when you tried to sit up in bed, grimacing at the gross taste in your mouth. How long had you been asleep for? The soreness in your back told you it had been a long time.

“Hey, kiddo. Might not want to try that.” Peter said as you struggled. His hand was strong against your back as you shifted restlessly. The sheets smelled of laundry detergent and lemons. Overhead the lights of the Spidey med bay hummed softly.

“Peter?” You muttered groggily. Your vocal cords were tight and gruff like a car engine that had been left idle for too long.

“The one and only!” 

You finished clearing out your eyes and your voice. It was good to see a familiar face. 

“How long have I been out? I feel like shit.”

“You look like shit too.” He said with a forced grin like he hadn’t just lost one of his best friends, “Do you remember what happened?” 

You accepted the water he handed you, downing it in five seconds with a groan. Your hands and arms were wrapped like a mummy’s and you could feel the soft gauze rub against the sensitive skin beneath whenever you moved.

“Yeah… Yeah I think I do.” The IV drip, drip, dripped saline steadily into your arm, “How long have I been out, Peter? You never answered.” 

He rubbed the back of his neck, still wearing his pink bathrobe and matching slippers when Mayday was nowhere to be found. At this point fatherhood had become a new superhero role for him, so it made sense he should dress accordingly at work.

“Ten days?”

“Ten days?!” You sat up with a grimace, “Joder.”

Did someone call me out of work? God, I’m hungry. Isn’t Miles’s reference letter due soon? I need a shower. Fuck.

Peter held you down gently when you tried to roll out of bed. If Miguel discovered you’d gotten up on his watch, he’d never hear the end-

“You’re awake.” 

Miguel’s frame filled the doorway, a small tray of food held within white-knuckled hands. 

You were here. You were safe. He had to keep reminding himself of that.

Shit. Peter B. spun around on his heels, letting you go and spreading his arms open wide like he’d just unveiled a marble statue at a ceremony. 

“Surprise!” He sang, your irritated face appearing in Miguel’s vision from around Peter’s back. 

You may have been the one to nearly die, but Miguel looked like he’d been put through the ringer. His red eyes were bloodshot and bruised, curls tousled, and shoulders slumped over like a deflated balloon.

“She’s awake! A real fighter, this one.” 

Miguel stalked forward, sinking into the seat next to your bed that Peter had abandoned and sliding the tray of food in front of you. Everything about him spoke of exhaustion, but he hid it well as he pressed a hand to your forehead, feeling for a fever. His palm was warm, chasing away some of the pulsing pain in your head.

“How are you feeling?” 

Peter B. pouted from behind Miguel. Hey, I’m here too! His expression said, drawing a small smile from you. 

“Pretty terrible, I won’t lie. But at least I’m not dead.” 

Miguel winced and fell silent. You regretted saying anything. 

Peter fluttered around the room like a honey bee, chatting your ear off and taking the edge off of the tension that radiated from Miguel as he dutifully checked over your wounds. He barely said anything, only asking you to open your mouth so he could take your temperature or lift your arm so he could wrap the blood pressure cuff around your bicep.

Everyone had been worried about you, taking turns to sit at your bedside and wait for you to awaken (although the rotation was also made so that Miguel would be forced to take time to rest… He didn’t). 

Even some of the Spiders you weren’t familiar with left behind cards and small stuffed bears - a consistent get well gift across universes, although Spider Cat did bring you a packet of catnip. They formed a small mountain of trinkets on the coffee table. 

“We’ll leave you alone to rest.” Miguel said bluntly, stopping Peter’s rant in his tracks after seeing your eyes begin to glaze over and flutter shut.

“Oooof, sorry. I didn’t mean to talk your ear off. Hey! If you need anything, just call. I’m sure Miles will stop by later, but I told him you’d be upset if he skipped school. Oh! And I’ll bring Mayday with me next time I visit. She always makes people feel better. Doesn’t she, Miguel?” 

Miguel’s neutral expression didn’t budge when Peter nudged him with an elbow. He only continued to herd Peter closer and closer out the door.

“Anyway, I’ll see you later!” Peter said, finally disappearing around the corner. Miguel huffed. Took him long enough.

“Wait!” You called out before Miguel could escape back to his office to brood. “Could-could you stay?” The words tumbled out before you could stop them and you cringed. You didn’t like to ask him for things but… considering the circumstances…

He walked back to you, rigidly sinking back into his seat and pushing the tray closer to you.

“You should eat. Build up your strength.” He said, clasping his hands tightly against his stomach as you hesitated and then began to eat ravenously. 

He’d been in your position before - exhausted and confused and reeling from a near-death experience. A pit of shame formed in his stomach. He hadn’t been able to protect you from it. He’d been on edge ever since you’d joined Spider Society and he thought - he’d hoped - that by keeping you from the more dangerous corners of the multiverse, you’d never experience what you’d just gone through. First the incident with the Spot and now this...

“How bad was it?” You asked tentatively, poking at the leftover fries on your plate. You obeyed the comfortable stretch of your stomach, cautious of getting sick after not eating solid food for over a week. “How bad was I?”

“Pretty bad.” Miguel said gruffly and honestly, staring at a blank spot on the wall, “We didn’t think you’d make it for a while.” 

You nodded. You remembered bits and pieces of the moment between sending the anomaly back to his dimension and passing out. The electricity flowing through your body had made your skin feel like it was being peeled off the bone, every nerve screaming out in pain until your brain had short circuited and shut itself off. You were lucky that the burns on your arms were all that remained.

“But I did.” You said, gently reminding him. He closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands. He didn’t think… he couldn’t.

“Migs-” 

The nickname threw him off guard. No one had called him that since his wife died. 

He stood up so quickly the chair squeaked in protest.

“Get some rest, Y/n.” He said without looking at you, “Call if you need anything.” He tapped the touchscreen device he left on the table - his universe’s version of a cell phone - before striding out the door without another word. 

You clenched your jaw and sank back into the pillows, part of you wishing you’d stayed asleep for a little while longer.

It took time for your body to feel like your own again. Most days you shouted at deaf limbs to move smoothly and carry things properly. Miguel had already written to Brooklyn Visions Academy about your medical leave of absence and had even gone so far as to visit your apartment to clean your kitchen and fridge while you remained bedridden at Spidey HQ. But for all the big and small ways he showed you that he cared, he neglected to do one thing - actually talk to you.

You shoved the sketchbook off the table, colored pens and pencils scattering on the floor as you dropped your head into your arms and silently screamed. Nearly a month after your injury and you still couldn’t quite hold things properly.

Your fine motor skills should return over time. Was what Dr. Parker had told you and the words should and time had been rattling around in your brain ever since.

Should or will? And how much time would it take?

“Fingers still not quite working right?” Hobie asked, leaning so far back in his seat with his legs propped up that he was nearly parallel with the floor. He held a tattered book in his hands, shifting colors with every page flip like the world’s worst chameleon.

“No.” You said, smoothing back your hair. You’d lost the bandages, but your skin was still tender to the touch in places and numb in others. Lichtenberg figure scars trailed up from your hands all the way to your collarbone, growing there like lichen on a tree. “It’s gotten better. A lot better. But it’s still not the same.”

“You’ll get there eventually.” Hobie said. He knelt on the floor and started to clean up the mess you had made, “Then you’ll be good as new.”

“How do you know?” You sighed, joining him.

He shrugged, “I don’t. But I was right before about you being able to send someone back to their own dimension without a watch. I’ve got a good feeling I’ll be right about this too.” 

He offered you a small smile and a helping hand, both of which you accepted.

You spent the rest of the day together, joined by Peter, Gwen, and Miles who cheered you through your daily exercises. You were getting strong again, albeit slowly. 

“I want to see you kiss the ground!”

“Show that stress ball who’s BOSS!”

“Yeah, THROW THAT DONGLE!”

“What did you just call-”

Miguel hovered by the door, never stepping foot into the training room with you in it. Never speaking to you, although he desperately wanted to. When you caught his eye, blinking in surprise as you kneeled in the training ring sweaty and tired, he bolted.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” He muttered to himself as he strode to the office you’d affectionately coined his “vampire lair.” Although he’d kept his distance, he’d never left you alone. When you asked Peter about getting things from your apartment, he was the one who visited your dimension. When you initially had trouble walking after your injury, he was the one who tracked down the best physicians and physical therapist variants he could find. He was breaking protocol left and right to make sure you were ok and he knew it. But...

“Lyla, could you pull up the video?” She didn’t need to ask for clarification on which video. It was always the same one. Always the same happy memory, followed by a terrible and harsh reality. 

Gabriella’s smiling face flashed on the screen, her bubbly laughter rising high above Miguel’s own baritone chuckle as she threw her arms around his shoulders and slapped that silly blue bow on his head. He’d taken that video to send to you after she scored the winning goal. You never made it to the game.

It was a painful reminder of everything that was at stake. He’d taken too many liberties, allowed himself to get too close to you. If he lost you like he’d lost Gabriella. He-

“Is that her?” 

Miguel’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. 

“Is that Gabriella?” You asked, swallowing thickly as Miguel turned around, leaving the video paused on two smiling faces. He wasn’t smiling now.

“Yes.” He answered softly, guilt heavy on his voice as you moved closer and inspected the girl on screen. 

Your breath caught in your throat, coming out as a strangled gasp. 

She looked like Miguel… She looked like you… 

“She’s got your smile.” You said softly, brushing away the unexpected dampness that had collected in your eyes. 

You’d been frustrated all day. Frustrated at yourself for your slow healing and your uncooperative body. When you had come to Miguel’s lair it was with the purpose of yelling at him for not visiting, and part of you still wanted to do that. But seeing him vulnerable and tired in front of his daughter your daughter Gabriella had taken some of the fight out of you.

“I always thought she had yours. Well, the other-”

“I understand, Miguel.” 

Silence stretched between you, tense and thin and waiting to be sliced through. You made the move. 

“Why haven’t you visited me?” The words came out sharper, more accusatory than you’d expected them to. 

Although Miguel flinched on the inside, he forced himself to take that pain and longing and shove it back into the little box he’d crafted for those feelings in the corner of his heart. The little box that you’d been steadily hacking away at from the very moment he met you.

“It wouldn’t have been appropriate.”

“Appropriate? What the hell is that supposed to mean? It’s not appropriate for you to visit a friend?” 

His jaw clenched at the word friend. It was a flimsy word, too weak to hold up all the feelings you held for each other. He ignored your question and barrelled through his next words, words that he’d been contemplating over the last month you’d been stuck in the med bay.

“Peter J. says you’re well enough to go back home and back to work if you feel ready. He wants you here every Wednesday at 7pm for the next six weeks-”

“You’re not answering my question-”

“I’ve got a write up for you to bring to any physician in your dimension-”

“Miguel, stop ignoring-”

“If you need documentation. In the meantime-”

“Y ni siquiera me estás escuchando-”

“I’m taking you off the team.” 

You took a step back, the realization of what he’d just said hitting you like a slap. “What did you say?”

Miguel gritted his teeth, eyes sliding down to the floor so he wouldn’t have to see that quiet look of devastation on your face. You were having none of it, immediately getting close to him and pressing your hands against his chest. The pads of your fingers were delicate but forceful as they tilted his chin up, forcing him to look into your eyes.

“Miguel, look at me.” Quiet. Desperate.

“I’m taking you off the team.” He repeated, clenching his jaw so tightly he could feel the grinding of his teeth.

“What-why would-why?”

“You almost died, Y/n. That stunt of yours could’ve gotten you killed.”

“Stunt? Is that really what you’re calling it?”

“You’re not cut out for this.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” 

It was bullshit and he did know it. 

“We couldn’t call you.” You prodded him with a finger, “We couldn’t trap him using the usual methods. We could barely hold him off long enough for anyone to come help. If I hadn’t done what I did, who the hell knows what would have happened? To Miles. To Gwen. To the millions of people living in New York. You need me Miguel, and not just for the superhero crap.”

What hadn’t occurred to you was that he knew exactly how much he needed you… and that was what terrified him so much.

“The decision’s been made, Y/n.” 

“By you. So change it.” 

“I’m not changing my decision.” Miguel growled, grabbing the hand that you’d been jabbing him with.

So this was the Miguel that everyone had told you about. Not the soft, brooding, sarcastic man you’d come to know. Not the Spider-Man whose humor revolved around making quippy comments. Not the Spider-Man who claimed to be the roughest and straight-laced of them all while still letting the cooks put his face on their signature burger. Not the smiling, laughing Miguel from the video with a blue bow in his hair.

No. This Miguel was short-tempered and hammered from steel. 

So why did he still hold your hand so gently, clutching it to his chest like he wanted to keep you there?

He shrugged you off, finally closing the screen on the video of him and Gabriella. Something about that made your blood boil.

“So what now?” You seethed, refusing to let this go. Not even as his fingers started to fly over the keyboard and his mind struggled to go elsewhere.

“You can go home. You can go back to the med bay.” 

You can stay here with me. You can help me get through all of this. 

Miguel’s heart screamed at him. His brain screamed back so loudly he felt his hold on his emotions stretch to its breaking point.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” 

Your voices had been steadily rising throughout the argument. So when his broad shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh, one hand coming up to rub at his temples, you thought you’d finally gotten to him. 

“¡Dime la verdad, Miguel! Why are you taking me off the team?” 

“I told you the truth earlier. You’re not cut out for this.” 

“BULLSHIT!”

He slammed his hand down on the keyboard, cracking it in two and sending keys clattering to the floor.

“I’M NOT LOSING YOU!” He roared, eyes alight and burning like the sun itself. “Not again!” His eyes squeezed shut like he couldn’t stand the sight of you, chest rising and falling with desperate gulps of air.

You stood there, lightly swaying on your feet like a boat caught in an unexpected storm.

“I am not your fucking wife.” Your voice cracked, “You didn’t lose me before and unless you tell me to walk out that door right now, you will never lose me. Ok? I will stay here - with you - if you just fucking ask me to.”

You expected something, anything, from Miguel. But after a minute of silence passed with him standing like a statue in front of you, you swallowed your tears before they could fall and blinked away.

It wasn’t your intention to go home. You’d planned to go back to the med bay, curl up, and sleep away your troubles before stealing a watch in the morning. But like a broken dam can’t hold back water, your emotions and powers couldn’t be contained. 

When you looked around at your cleaned apartment, the faintest smell of Miguel’s cologne still stuck to the couch pillows, you sank to your knees and started to cry.

<- Previous chapter Next chapter ->

_________

Author's note:

Autumn is here! And the colder, somber atmosphere in the coffee shop today helped inspire this chapter. I had a plan for this fic... I abandoned it long ago. But, that being said, I hope to have things wrapped up in the next 2-3 chapters and to bring some closure to the first multi-chapter fic I will have ever truly completed.

As always, I hope you're all taking care of yourselves and that your Autumn drinks are tasting ✨delicious✨

Love,

Florence B.

Taglist: @geraskier-thots @howabouticallyou @sweetheartlizzie07 @dont-mind-me27 @omg-edzia-stuff @sarcastically-defensive17 @trouble-sistar @saltyluminaryvoid @lunablue001 @sadslasher13 @yas-v @thel0v3hashira143 @trishuh8 @vague-flying-shape. @tiana76 @dinuxia-bhm @mxtokko @devilsrose666 @natbratty @zettoaizawa-shusband @dorck26 @notasadgirlipromise @niyanispunk @thecraziestcrayon @athenxt @imnotyourbcbe @jannajuju @lunamoonbby @elle-19 @aces148 @sseleniaa @elaineiswithyou-blog @summerli-u @rattlethemskulls @sunseekerlove @bubbabobabubbles @loonalockley @aleombre @littlelilies @07-bilin @nerdalicios @insanely-creative-things @enby-rising @nataliahemsworth @coralineyouareinterribledanger @louderfortheback @damnzelsoul @enheduannasposts @bontensbabygirl @mynameiswilliamblake @hyperfixationwho @corpsebridenightamare @mikeys-thighs

[forsaire]

Old friends

Chapter 17 of Please Say You Love Me now posted 🙌

Johnny recognized them as Rudy and Alejandro. As they approached the table, he and Simon stood up.

“It’s good to see you, hermano!” Alejandro cried out happily. Before Johnny knew what was happening, he was being pulled into strong arms as Alejandro collided their bodies together into a hug. After a moment of shock, Johnny brought his arms up and hugged back.

It was rough but kind, jovial and excited.

After a few seconds, Alejandro pulled back, continuing to keep his hands on Jonny’s shoulders. He smiled warmly, his welcoming demeanour flowing straight from his heart. His eyes flicked to the side.

“Nice hair,” Alejandro joked, gently letting one of the strands slide through his fingers.

“Aye…” Johnny chuckled. “So I’ve been told.”

Alejandro stepped to the side and focused his attention on Simon. Rudy took his place in front of Johnny and also pulled him into a hug, this one more gentle.

“I’m Rudy,” he said as he pulled back from the hug. He gestured towards Alejandro. “And that one’s Alejandro, since he never actually introduced himself.” Alejandro was happily chatting and gesturing to Simon.

Something inside Johnny stirred awake, giving him vague feelings of trust, friendliness, and loyalty.

“It’s good to meet you,” Johnny said, faltering only slightly. “Or… see you again.”

“You too.” His smile was genuine and his words sincere.

“You guys ate?” Alejandro asked, gesturing towards the taco stand.

“We did.”

“Fantástico! C’mon, we parked around the side.”

“Oh,” Johnny said, briefly glancing back at Simon in faint surprise. “Where are we going?”

A wide smile spread across Alejandro’s face, its devious nature eliciting concern in any other instance. With a wave, they followed Alejandro and Rudy back to their vehicle, slipping into the backseats of the black Jeep.

Even Simon seemed a bit surprised by this as he settled into the seat. “New car?” he asked, clipping in his seatbelt.

“Sí,” Alejandro responded. He pulled out of their parking spot and began to drive down the street. “But it’s still technically the property of Los Vaqueros. Something not so noticeable. Still armoured though.”

“Naturally.”

Rudy turned around in his seat so he could look at Johnny in the back. “Have you been told what we do?”

Johnny shimmied forward so he could better lean into the space between the front seats. “I’ve been told you’re also in the military. Los Vaqueros. What’s that mean?”

“The cowboys,” Rudy answered with a prideful smile.

“So… you actually ride horses…? Cowboy hats and lassos and all that…?”

Rudy barked out a laugh and levelled his teasing gaze at Alejandro. “My family owned a ranch,” he said, “so I know how to ride one, but Alé here,” he playfully punched Alejandro’s arm, “he seems to be riding challenged.”

Alejandro briefly glanced over to the side, his glare deadly and with little amusement. “Take it easy now…” He then tried to catch Johnny’s eye in the rearview mirror. “Cowboys in the sense of gunslingers. Living on the road. Doing right by others. Those kind of cowboys. And anyway, Mexicans were the first cowboys before the gringos stole the idea, like they steal most other things. I’m keeping the Mexican tradition alive, honouring our ancestors.”

Johnny was quiet for a second.

“…so… no horses?”

“No horses!” Alejandro huffed out, causing the rest of the car to laugh.

“I do keep telling him that maybe he should try the assless chaps to look like a real cowboy!” Rudy teased.

“Cállate!” Alejandro hissed which only filled Rudy with more gleeful laughter.

---

Full chapter <3

Art by vipyaa_art

[harley-sunday]

Renaissance

Renaissance [noun]

re·​nais·​sance ˌren-ə-ˈsän(t)s  -ˈzän(t)s 

1. capitalized : the period of European history between the 14th and 17th centuries marked by a flourishing of art and literature inspired by ancient times and by the beginnings of modern science 2. often capitalized : a movement or period of great activity (as in literature, science, and the arts) 3. literal translation from French : re-birth

Summary: Charles wins the Monaco Grand Prix.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: None.

Word count: 765 (a short one, I know)

AN: You know I had to come out of retirement after Charles winning his home Grand Prix. Hope you enjoy this little drabble. Please come yell at me in the comments ♥

Part of Rituals

Charles Leclerc, in 2021, when asked if he has any race rituals: “At every start of the season, until F2, my grandmother used to take my race suits, remove one of the sponsor logos and sew a little cross instead of it. Now grandma is gone, I can’t sew and the ritual is over. I was thinking about keeping a lucky charm in my pocket but then I thought to myself: if you need an object [to feel better], then you are missing something on the mental aspect, so I let it go.”

[Angel of God, my guardian dear,]

The ritual is not over.

You can sew and the ritual is not over. 

Charles took pole today, you can sew, and the ritual is not over.

[To whom God's love commits me here,]

It’s late. It’s late and with the rest of the world asleep you are wide awake, hunched over in a chair, with the red of the Ferrari race suit draped across your legs, and the floor lamp casting a golden glow over your lone figure. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the window earlier, the scene eerily reminiscent of a renaissance painting you saw in the Musée des Beaux-Arts in Nice last year. 

Freddy is sleeping at your feet, tired after spending yet another day barking at race cars from the safety of the balcony. The gray hairs around his nose are becoming more and more prominent, a cruel reminder of his upcoming sixth birthday next month. Except for Freddy’s soft snores, the house is quiet, and it almost feels like a sanctuary. 

[Ever this day, be at my side,]

Modern Formula One suits don’t have sponsor patches, everything is printed on, and so instead of having to decide which patch to remove, you try to find a piece of thread that matches the yellow of the Ferrari logo. There’s no exact match, everything you have is a slightly different shade, and after a few minutes you give up and take out a bobbin with black thread instead. 

It’s been years since you’ve last sewn something but your muscle memory makes feeding the thread through the eye of the needle easy. You pick up the fabric and set to work, using a simple back stitch to sew a cross in the black of the Ferrari horse. No one will even know it’s there, not unless they look closely, and people hardly ever do. It only takes a couple of minutes to finish and once you’re done you run your fingers over the stitches, while you say a quiet prayer. 

Careful not to disturb Freddy, you get up then and drape the suit back over the chair, making sure it looks untouched. You leave the light on, it’s almost morning anyway, and make your way back to the bedroom. 

Charles stirs when you lay down next to him and when you settle into him you can feel him press a kiss to your forehead, “Lucie is back to sleep?” 

For a moment you’re confused, not sure what he means, but then you remember you told him you’d go check on your daughter earlier. You nod and tilt your head back so he can let his lips ghost over yours, “She is. You should be as well, chéri. You’ve got a race to win tomorrow.” 

[To light and guard, Rule and guide.]

Charles takes it all in from the top step of the podium, lets his eyes wander over the sea of people below him, the water in Port Hercule glistening in the distance. He can feel his smile growing wider when he finds his family in the cheering crowd - his mom and his brothers looking at him with watery eyes and soft smiles, and her, with their daughter perched on her hip, biting her lip to keep from crying. He wants nothing more than to hug them, hold them close, and celebrate with them, but he knows that will come later, in the quiet hours after the public celebrations, back in the sanctity of their home.

It’s time for the national anthem and so Charles takes his cap off and places his hand over his heart. When his fingers graze over what he quickly realizes is a cross, embroidered onto the Ferrari horse, he has to swallow back tears. He didn’t see it before the race, doubt anyone has, but now that he knows it’s there he never wants to race without it ever again. 

The ritual is not over and Charles Leclerc is a Monaco Grand Prix race winner.

[di-in-al]

~Drifting into Desire~ PART II

>Warnings: Profanity. Smoking. Mentions of death.

>Word Count: 3.7k

>Tags: 18+ only + future smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + all characters over age 21 + 1990s themed + no quirks + reader insert

>A/N: Hey! Sorry I missed posting yesterday, I just got back in town and couldn't work on the story. But I got finished finally! I'm also hoping to produce some art to go along with the story. I feel like that would help picture some things. Thanks for reading! <3

>taglist: @simp-plague

part I

~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~

The sun poured through the window, bathing the room in a golden radiance that wrapped around your eyelids like a gentle embrace. You had been awake for about fifteen minutes, lulled into consciousness by the soothing, rhythmic purr of your cat, a comforting start to the day. You could hear Uraraka’s cheerful voice arriving not long after you woke up, her laughter mingling with Momo's melodic tone as they engaged in lighthearted conversation in the kitchen.

Though the world outside beckoned with its promise of a good day, you lingered in bed, your fingers tracing the silky, soft fur of your feline companion who nestled contentedly against you. The sheets had lost their warmth, a telling sign that Shinso had slipped away hours ago, his departure a hushed affair as if he were a ghost in the night. How he managed to be so silent despite the rumbling of his loud car was a mystery you’d likely never solve.

Eventually, curiosity stirred you from your haven of slumber. You slowly opened your eyes to see a pair of vivid green orbs gazing curiously up at you, filled with a blend of affection and mischief. With a tiny chirp, your cat stretched out wide on your chest.

“Good morning, bub,” you murmured fondly, coaxing the soft creature with a gentle stroke before carefully rolling out of the warmth of your bed. Taking a moment to find a pair of clothes that felt right, you made your way toward the kitchen, your feet quietly padding against the cool floor.

In the kitchen, Uraraka was perched comfortably at the small bar, her lively spirit shining through as she chatted animatedly. Momo bustled around while gracefully preparing breakfast. 

“Y/N! Good morning!” Uraraka exclaimed cheerfully, her eyes sparkling as she bounded over. She wrapped her arms around you in a gentle side hug, and you nestled your cheek against the top of her head, savoring the warmth of her embrace.

“Breakfast is almost ready. You want some tea?” Momo chimed in, her voice melodic amidst the bustling sounds of the kitchen. Dressed in a cute apron that accentuated her figure, she expertly wielded a spatula, flipping the tamagoyaki with precision. The mouthwatering aroma wafted through the air, filling every corner of the kitchen.

You pushed back from the counter and ambled around, the wooden floor creaking softly beneath your feet.

“Nah, I need coffee. Thank you, though,” you replied, your tone slightly gruff as you focused on the task at hand. As the coffee pot gurgled and sputtered, you expertly measured out the grounds, letting the familiar routine ground you.

“Long night?” Uraraka's voice floated in from behind you, light-hearted yet tinged with concern. You nodded, your thoughts briefly drifting to the events of your night. 

Momo, standing poised at the stove, let out a thoughtful hum. You shifted your gaze to her, brow furrowed with curiosity.

“What?” you asked, pouring a generous splash of cream into your mug, the swirls mixing in with the dark liquid. The coffee pot beside you let out a final sputter as it filled the glass container, the rich scent enveloping you in comfort.

“Oh, nothing,” Momo sang, her tone deceptively airy. But the fleeting, disapproving look she shot your way sent a shiver of realization down your spine. She knew.

Your heart sank. Oh fuck.

She knows about you and Shinso.

As her eyes flickered back to the stove, the tranquility of the morning felt suddenly fractured, an unspoken tension hanging thick in the air. You fought to keep your composure, but your thoughts were starting to race.

“Momo, look-” your words were cut short by the phone ringing on the wall. The sound created a pause in your worried thoughts, watching as Uraraka jumped up from her seat. 

“I’ll grab it!” She shuffled over, grabbing the phone and holding it up to her ear. You half heartedly listened as you sipped your coffee, the tension between you and your roommate being thick. Before you had the chance to explain yourself, her voice quietly filled the small space between you.

“Just don’t let it affect your driving.” Her stern voice had a softness to it, her hands expertly plating food onto three plates. You simply nodded, keeping the warm cup up by your face. 

You thought she would’ve reacted worse, but at the end of the day you were grown. She couldn’t tell you who or not to date, but you understood that she was just protective of you. 

“Y/N? It’s for you.” Uraraka held the phone out to you, you put down your comfort in a cup and walked over to the phone. You wondered who was calling this early, but your mind only landed on one person. 

You took the phone hesitantly, a knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. “Hello?” 

“Y/N. It’s been a while,” Your uncle’s gravelly voice came through the receiver, laced with a heaviness that made your stomach churn.

“Yeah, it has. Everything okay?” you asked, your fingers nervously playing with the phone cord.

“I suppose. Though I’d prefer to discuss this in person. I was thinking you could come over later today.” 

Your heart raced. “You want to see me?”

There was a subtle pause in Shota’s voice, and you could almost feel his gaze through the phone.

“Yes. I’d like to extend an olive branch. There’s… been too much distance between us since your return.”

You swallowed hard, glancing at Momo, who was pretending to be busy with work, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “I didn’t mean for things to feel different. I just... needed time.”

Shota’s voice softened slightly, a blend of understanding and firmness.

“We all need time to adjust, especially after what you’ve been through. But that doesn’t mean we can’t talk. I have some things I’d like to share with you.”

Taking a deep breath, you finally found your resolve. “Okay. I’ll come over.”

“Good. Let’s say around noon? There are some things I want to clarify,” he replied, his tone steady, underscoring his typical no-nonsense demeanor.

“Clarify? Like what?” you felt the knot tighten again.

“My expectations may have created a distance between us.” He let out a slight sigh, the weight of his admission hanging in the air between you. “I want to address that.”

“I didn’t want to upset you. I was just trying to figure everything out,” you confessed, feeling a mix of relief and guilt wash over you.

“I understand,” he said. “We all have our processes, but remaining silent isn’t helpful.”

A nervous chuckle escaped your lips.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve been a bit quiet… and you’ve been your usual self.”

“Could say that.” His tone was flat, yet you detected a hint of something softer beneath it. “I was never one for frivolities. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

You didn’t respond, instead chewing on your lip and reviewing his proposition in your head. His deep voice traveled through the phone once again, bringing you back to the conversation. 

“Just bring an open mind,” he continued, his voice firm yet encouraging. “It’s time we have a frank discussion.”

Nodding, you felt a flicker of warmth in your chest. “Okay. I’ll see you at noon.”

“See you then.” The line went quiet, but the weight of the conversation lingered, filling you with a mix of apprehension and hope.

The darkness that had been smoldering beneath the surface flared back to life with just one phone call. Memories that you had tried to bury surged forward, pressing against your conscience like a tide threatening to engulf you. You had returned to Japan after years abroad, and now you were questioning every reason behind that decision.

Just two days after you graduated college, a tragic accident shattered your world. Your parents had come to visit you, traveling from their new home to celebrate your achievement. It had been a four-hour drive, one you could have made in half the time if you had only known what was to come. They were only fifteen minutes from home when a drunk driver changed everything. 

Your mother was gone in an instant; your father lingered for a few hours, fighting for breath but fading nonetheless. When the phone call came, echoing through the silence of your small dorm, you rushed home with a heart full of fear and dread. 

You weren’t fast enough.

You’ll never be fast enough.

“Y/N?” Uraraka’s voice cut through the fog of your thoughts, pulling you back to reality. You glanced at her, meeting her worried gaze, and felt the anxiety coil tighter in your chest. 

“All he wants to do is talk,” you managed to say, attempting to sound nonchalant. But the concern etched on the faces of your friends—Uraraka and your steadfast roommate—told you they saw right through the façade. “I’m going to see him at noon.”

With that, you turned away from their watchful eyes and headed back to your room, desperate to escape the weight of their concern and the tumult of your own emotions. You needed a moment alone. You needed a cigarette. The small ritual would help clear your mind, if only for a fleeting second.

Once you finally gathered your thoughts and calmed the whirlwind in your mind, you returned to the kitchen. Both Uraraka and Momo looked up expectantly as you entered, and you offered a quick, appreciative smile before taking a seat at the table.

“Hey, guys! What do you think about me bringing Izuku to the team meeting tonight? He asked if he could come along, and I really believe he’d be a great fit!” Uraraka’s face lit up with enthusiasm as she bounced slightly in her chair, glancing eagerly between you and Momo.

“Oh, I’m sure you just want more opportunities to ogle him,” you teased, taking a sip of your steaming coffee and watching her cheeks turn a bright shade of red.

“I do not!” she exclaimed, hands flying to her face in a futile attempt to hide her embarrassment. You couldn't help but chuckle at her adorable reaction, while Momo watched with a bemused smile.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Momo said, nodding thoughtfully as she finished her meal. “We could really get a sense of his driving skills. We still need someone exceptional for uphill challenges.”

A triumphant grin spread across Uraraka’s face.

“Yay! I’ll let him know! Speaking of which, I’ve got to meet up with him soon. Momo, could you give me a ride?”

“Of course,” Momo replied, rising to collect the dishes from the table. “I’ll clean up, and then we can head out.” 

As the two of them chatted excitedly about your potential new teammate, you felt a warmth bloom in your chest. This was the kind of support you had needed, and with people like this beside you, every uncertainty felt a little less daunting.

-

Time crawled as the clock ticked closer to noon. You tried to keep yourself occupied with mundane tasks, but your mind danced with uninvited memories of the past—how things used to be so easy between you and your uncle before the world twisted and turned your life upside down. 

Eventually, you couldn’t delay any longer. You grabbed your bag and walked out, filling the space around you with the weight of uncertainty. The sky was an angry shade of gray, droplets of rain beginning to fall as you made your way to your uncle's place. The morning sun was only a tease, a siren call to get you out of bed.

Upon arrival, the familiar building felt strange. It loomed over you, a reminder of all the moments shared between the two of you. With each step toward the door, your anxiety morphed into anticipation. You knocked tentatively, the sound swallowed by the sudden rush of rain.

Shota opened the door, his expression an unreadable blend of surprise and relief.

“Y/N,” he greeted softly, stepping aside to let you in.

The warmth of the room greeted you, but it felt stark against the chill you carried inside. Shota ran a hand through his hair, a habitual gesture that had always intrigued you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” you replied, shifting your weight. The atmosphere was thick, the silence a tangible presence. 

“Sit,” he motioned towards the couch, his tone steady yet inviting. “I think it’s best we have this conversation openly.” 

You perched on the edge of the couch, your fingers nervously intertwining. “What do you want to clarify?”

Shota took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts.

“First, I’d like to apologize. I realize I may have placed expectations on you that weren’t fair. When you returned, I expected things to snap back into place, like before.” 

You felt a wave of relief wash over you.

“I wanted that too,” you admitted. “But everything’s different now. I’m different.”

“I’ve noticed,” Shota said, his gaze unwavering. “It’s like the event changed the very fabric of who you are. Your silence… I thought it meant you were shutting me out.”

As you watched him struggle to articulate the pain that lay heavy in his heart, it dawned on you—you weren't the only living victim of that reckless drunk driver. Your uncle had lost a brother, a lifelong companion, and a confidant. In your own haze of grief and anger, you had failed to grasp how deeply the tragedy had etched itself into his soul. 

Just a couple of months ago, you had a major fallout. You had thought his relentless pressure was unwarranted, that he was pushing you too hard to embrace responsibilities that felt suffocating. He wanted you to step into the shoes left behind by your parents, to honor their legacy by using your degree and becoming successful. Yet amid his well-intentioned efforts, he had overlooked your need for time—to breathe, to process the aftermath of your shared loss.

Racing was the only refuge that brought solace. Every time you gripped the steering wheel, the roar of the engine drowned out your chaotic thoughts, and for those fleeting moments, you could escape the weight of reality. But your uncle's insistence on finding a career and starting your life made your sanctuary feel like a betrayal. You were lost, caught between your need to honor your family’s memory and your desire to lose yourself in the speed of your car.

“I was just trying to process everything,” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Realizing you were both grappling with your vulnerabilities, you could see the subtle shift in him.

“Y/N, you’re not alone in this.” His words rung with sincerity. “I struggled too. I want to be there for you, but I didn’t know how to approach you without stepping back into the shadows.”

A heavy silence enveloped you again, but this time it felt different. It was charged with honesty. You took a second to study him—his eyes, his expressions—this was the uncle you knew, the one who always cared, even from afar.

“I just expected you of all people to understand me.”

Your uncle was legendary for his exceptional driving skills, particularly when it came to conquering the notorious Musutafu Pass. Known as the "Eraser of the Musutafu Pass," he had an uncanny ability to leave even the most skilled drivers dazed and confused; they would approach him with confidence only to find that his extraordinary prowess would make them forget their own driving instinct. 

But when your family moved to America, your uncle's passion faded with your departure. He retired from racing, feeling as though the thrill of the track had been snuffed out without his biggest fan by his side—you. 

Once he stepped away from the world of racing, nothing he achieved seemed to hold a candle to that exhilarating rush. Days turned into weeks, and the vibrant spark that once drove him was replaced with an emptiness he couldn't shake. Determined not to let you inherit that same sense of loss, he channeled his energy into guiding you, making it his mission to ensure your happiness and success. 

“Believe me, I get where you’re coming from,” he said, crossing his arms. “That’s why I have a proposition for you.”

His words caught your attention, and you looked up at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes.

“I’ve arranged an interview with one of my colleagues,” he continued. But as he spoke, your heart sank, irritation bubbling within you. The moment of hope you had felt dissipated, and you quickly stood up.

“I knew it would come to this,” you shot back, anger igniting in your chest as you turned toward the door.

Just as you reached for the handle, your uncle’s calm voice sliced through the tension. 

“Accept the interview, and I’ll show you how to conquer that mountain pass.”

You froze mid-motion, shock coursing through you. Every bit of frustration gave way to a flicker of intrigue, leaving you momentarily speechless.

A few moments of silence engulfed the conversation, fighting back and forth on the urge to give in or continue to fight back. You didn’t want to give up on your dream.

“Taking the interview doesn’t mean giving up your autonomy. It’s simply a stepping stone—one among many.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Trust me, I wouldn’t have made this proposition if I didn’t see potential in you. You are already battling your own emotional mountain; this is just one way to climb higher.”

You looked down, chewing your lip, weighing the choices before you. Your fingers were still wrapped tightly around the handle of the door, a physical reminder of your desire to escape. Yet, something inside you yearned to stay, to explore this moment. After all, how often did you have the chance to shift the narrative of your life? 

“Okay,” You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll do the interview.” 

A flicker of pride ignited in your uncle’s eyes, casting away the shadows of your doubt.

“Good. And then together, you and I will tackle that mountain pass. You will learn not just to face your fears but understand them, overcome them—all while finding your own path.”

He reached out, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. The weight of it felt grounding, a promise that you were not alone in this. Your frustrations hadn’t vanished entirely, but now there was a path ahead, illuminated by both uncertainty and hope.

-

Shinso leaned against Izuku’s Toyota Levin, peering under the hood for a final inspection. The engine hummed softly beneath his touch, and a flicker of pride crossed his face as he made a few adjustments. You stood by your own car, watching with a mix of curiosity and admiration. Izuku, heart pounding, sat in the driver’s seat of the Levin, his eyes wide with both excitement and apprehension. You could see him take a deep breath, trying to steady himself for the uphill trial ahead.

“Alright then, kid, let’s see what you got,” Shinso said, slamming the hood of Izuku’s car shut. A cloud of dust rose from the gravel beneath their feet, and he wiped his dirty hands on his dark jeans, leaving streaks of grease behind. The sun hung low in the sky, casting an orange hue over the rugged landscape of the Pass, where the group had gathered for the meeting. You could hear the distant sound of engines revving, the anticipation in the air palpable.

As the group finished preparations, Shinso slid into the passenger seat of Izuku’s car with a relaxed confidence that belied the intensity of the moment.

“Just remember to stay light on the throttle during the turns. Timing is everything,” he advised, his voice low but filled with a commanding tone. Izuku nodded, his brow furrowing in concentration while his fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

With a quick glance at you for reassurance, Izuku turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life. The sound sent a thrill through you, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched the adrenaline course through him. The three of you took off in a flurry of rubber and gravel, Izuku leading the way with Shinso riding shotgun, while you followed closely in your own vehicle, keeping pace with a mix of exhilaration and camaraderie.

As you ascended the winding road, the landscape around you transformed from lush forests to rocky outcrops. The sun dipped lower, casting slanting rays that glinted off the polished paintjobs of both cars. Izuku navigated the curves with precision, channeling all the focus you had seen during the countless hours spent outside the racing scene. Each turn brought its own challenge, and you could see him processing the landscape even as adrenaline surged through him. 

It became clear just how talented he was. You had no doubts that Izuku was more than capable of handling the uphill — his confidence grew with each corner he conquered. Shinso offered occasional commands, each one more a reminder than a directive. “Good job; keep it steady,” he'd say, or “Hold the line,” pointing out the ideal racing line as they climbed higher.

When they finally reached the top, the three of you parked in a shaded overlook, taking a moment to catch your breath as the sun dipped behind the mountains. Izuku emerged from the Levin, a broad grin plastered across his face.

“Did I really just do that?” he exclaimed, disbelief and joy radiating from him.

Shinso chuckled, giving Izuku a hearty clap on the shoulder.

“You did good, kid. But we’ve still got some work to do before you take on any serious races. Your car needs a bit of tuning for the uphill runs, and I’ve got ideas brewing.”

You couldn’t help but admire the dynamic between them, the mentorship forming like gears meshing together. As the sun set and the twilight encroached, you felt a sense of camaraderie settling in. You were part of something bigger now, a group bound by a shared passion for speed, skill, and the thrill of the race. The promise of future challenges and adventures hung in the air like the fading warmth of the day, and that thought alone fueled your excitement for what lay ahead.

part III

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

hey so I know this was a lot of backstory, but it'll be worth it! We get to meet the king of the pass next chapter I promise!

<3 di.in.al

[toasttt11]

your simon

March 25, 2024

Octavia woke up to the sound of familiar sound of rain, she shifted slightly feeling Louie in a little ball laying againt Octavia’s side. Octavia fondly smiled having less alone with having her Louie with her everyday.

Octavia checked her phone seeing it was already past 10:00 am as she didn’t have a morning practice today and her team was given an rest day before the Devils game tomorrow, she knew she did have to get up and start her day as she can finally see her twin after two months and Jack as she’s picking them up after their practice to spend the day and night with them.

Octavia started sitting up and felt her puppy stir slightly, Octavia got up and headed to the bathroom doing her morning routine before heading back into her bedroom and slipping on her slippers and Quinn’s hoodie, she could she Louie wide awake starting towards her as she came out to the bathroom.

“Hi Lou.” Octavia cooed softly giving her child lots of pets and straches, “Do you need to go outside?” Louie barked once making Octavia laugh as she picked him up.

Octavia walked out of her bedroom and down the hallway to her art room. The Art room has a covered balcony and Octavia turned it into a little run for Louie as most mornings in Toronto is raining or snowing and Louie gets cold to fast to try and make him go to the bathroom in the snow.

Octavia set him down on the fake grass, and let him do his business as she stepped inside the art room leaving the door open until Louie was done. She heard a small little bark and looked over seeing Louie patiently sitting at the door waiting to come, “Come in love.” Louie quickly trotted over to her nudging his head at her legs making her smile and pick him up.

They headed down to the hall into the kitchen, she turned her coffee machine on and started brewing her coffee. Octavia scooped dog food setting it into Louie’s bowl making sure the other was filled with water, she set him down letting him have breakfast.

Octavia happily took her first sip of her coffee before dreading to make breakfast but knew she couldn’t just have coffee for breakfast, she quickly make a simple piece of toast and sat on her couch enjoying her piece of toast and coffee before feeling little paws and looked down seeing Louie done with his breakfast and waiting to be picked up, Octavia picked him up and could tell he was cold, Louie quickly dove into the front pocket of her hoodie his whole body easily fitting in the pocket and warming up quickly.

Octavia scrolled her phone drinking her coffee for a while as Louie contently warmed up in her pocket.

Octavia may of ended up sitting there for an hour before reluctantly getting up, Louie still laying in her pocket. She set her mug in the sink before heading back into her bedroom, she quickly changed into grey sweatpants, a white hoodie, and slipped on her black high top converses

She picked Louie up and brought him to her bed laying him down and covering him up completely with the comforter, “I’ll be back soon.” She pressed a kiss to his fluffy head and walked out of her room grabbing her keys and wallet putting it into her pocket, she grabbed her leather jacket that was hanging on the hook by the door putting it on before locking her apartment door and heading out of the building into the parking garage and getting into the car.

She drove the short distance to the Maple Leafs Arena and parking in the garage, she got out of her car and walked through the halls saying her hellos to a lot of the staff as she walked in. Octavia saw the Devils weren’t on the ice meaning they were done with practice and getting cleaned up in the lcoker room.

Octavia only waited a few minutes before Nico and Jack walked out, Jack smiled at this sister walking over to her pulling her into a hug, “Hi Moony.” Jack smiled pulling back from his sister.

“Hi Rowdy.” Octavia smiled slightly nodding at brother, looking at Nico and giving him a fist bump, a lot of the Devils players were alreadly walking out by the time Luke came out.

Luke smiled wildly at the sight is his twin sister, they quickly hugged each other tightly, both relaxing into the hug, “Hey Win.” Luke pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

“Hi Lucky.” Octavia smiled in the hug holding her twin tightly. They pulled away from the hug reluctantly, and turned to Jack ready to start leaving when a voice called Octavia’s name.

“Octavia?” Simon accent rang out in the hallway when he called out her name, knowing that shade of blonde hair anyway, especially because he knows she’s part of the Maple Leafs.

Octavia quickly turned around at the sound of the accent, “Simon.” Octavia breathed out with a smile forming on her face, she quickly walked over to him as he gently pulled her into a hug, “Hi.” Octavia whispered having knowing she would see him this weekend but didn’t know when.

“Hi.” Simon smiled back as they pulled out of the hug, “It’s been a while.” Simon crookedly grin at the girl he’s had a crush on for years now.

“It has.” Octavia smiled softly, something that she doesn’t do often.

Luke raised an eyebrow at his twin and his teammate trying to figure out how they know evan other, “How do you know each other?” Luke questioned.

Octavia turned her head looking at her twin like he is stupid, “Really?” She gave him a certain a look making his eyes widen looking towards Simon.

“Wait my teammate Simon, is that Simon!” Luke realized looking at his sister.

“He was my friend first.” Octavia sassed back to her twin. Jack and Nico shared a look, having an idea something is between Simon and Octavia.

“That Simon?” Simon mischievously smiled at her, Octavia fondly rolled her eyes feeling her cheeks warm, she pushed him gently with her arm, “Shush you.” Luke smiled at his sister seeing her with the person she hasn’t stop talking about the last four years.

“Wait how do you meet each other?” Jack crossed his arms playing his protective big brother making Octavia roll her eyes at him.

“We played against each other a few years ago in WJC.” Simon explained not telling them how he truthfully met Octavia, Octavia smiled slighty enjoying he kept it to them.

“Alright Louie is waiting for us.” Octavia reminded her brothers, ignoring the red on her cheeks and the pounding of her heart as she stood next to Simon.

“Lou Dog! What are we waiting for.” Jack cheered excitedly always loving that little sausage dog.

“See you on the ice tomorrow?” Simon softly asked her, Octavia nodded with a little smile before starting walking away with her brothers.

“Do not say a word.” Octavia hissed at her two brothers as they started walking away.

“Wait but how didn’t i know that your Simon is my teammate!” Luke whispered over to his twin, trying to figure out how he never knew.

“I thought you knew!” Octavia exclaimed back, “I didn’t know that you didn’t.”

“That’s explains a lot.” Luke slowly nodded thinking about when Simon asked about Octavia and he was confused how Simon knew her.

“Your Simon?” Jack teasingly smirked at his baby sister enjoying all of this.

“No.” Octavia blunted replied rolling her eyes at Jack.

Jack just smirked seeing the slight red on her cheeks and was enjoying his sister actually having something that he could tease her about.

[collapsedglasshouses]

An Angel for Noah || Noah Sebastian x OC [Part 5]

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @cafekitsune

MASTERPOST

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x Jules [she/her]

SUMMARY: Noah can't get this girl from his dreams out of his thoughts and goes to extreme lengths to clear his head... With no success.

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, reckless behavior, near-death experiences, emotional distress, ...

A/N: Hello! ♡ Here is the next chapter of An Angel For Noah and we finally have something to work with. I'm so excited for your reactions. Just to let you know, I almost broke my brain while writing this. Also thanks to my boyfriend for being my co-writer. Credit goes out to collapsedboyfriend or whatever lmao. Have fun reading this chapter and let me know your thoughts! ♡

TAGLIST: @trvshdxddy @blackveilomens @crimson-calligraphyx @measuredingold @cncohshit @signs-of-ill-portent

If you wanna be added to the taglist of this story, please DM me or let me know in the comments!

Keep in mind, this takes place in an alternative universe. Even though I write about real people, the way I write them has nothing to do with how they are in real life.

“Jules.”

Noah’s simple exclaim still lingered in her ears, even days later.

Her heart had sunk when she heard him audibly sigh out her name. Her mind instantly had started to race. Why did he say her name? What was going on?

It wasn’t like she hadn’t realised how shifty Noah had gotten over the past few weeks, it all coming to a peak when she saved him from almost crashing his car, but nothing that happened made her come to the conclusion why he would know her name.

When the tour had finally kicked off, Jules nerves were on edge. Noah on the other hand seemed to finally have some rest from his thoughts. There was hardly a moment where he could reflect on the strange events that had occurred in the days leading up to the tour.

What Jules didn’t expect, was, actually liking to be on the road. When she was still alive she had been a homebody. She had loved being alone and found it rather difficult to bear the idea of ​​being away for long periods of time. But watching Noah do what he loved had impacted her somehow.

He seemed to blossom more and more with each day leading up to the tour and Jules couldn’t help but adore it. It almost felt like his feelings were washing over her.

The morning of the first tour date had arrived. The whole crew already arrived yesterday, so they had the full day to prepare everything to their liking. Jules watched Noah as he was woken up by his phone ringing.

The small hotel they stayed in was far from luxurious but it did what it was supposed to and did not blow their budget.

"Yes?" Noah rasped into his phone and ran a hand through his hair. Jules slightly tilted her head and watched him stretch his neck. If she hadn't been in the midst of a full on crisis about him stuttering her name in his sleep, she would have addressed how she couldn't deny how attractive she found him certain things he did throughout the day. One of them being his morning stretches.

"Yes, I'm wide awake, Matt. In fact, I'm about to step out of my room and get a ride to the venue." Noah lied and set on the edge of his bed. Jules rolled her eyes at him while slightly smiling. He definitely had overslept but there wasn't anything she could do but watch him hectically start his day.

When he later arrived at the venue, he was greeted by his band mates and shortly after he was completely in his element.

Until late afternoon, Jules didn't leave his side. Even stopped him from hitting his head too hard for a couple of times. Even though she would consider that day as her first constantly stressful one since becoming his guardian angel, she also couldn't stop herself from smiling all the time, when she saw how happy Noah was.

Noah's band mates were a constant source of support. Jules observed their interactions, noting the unbreakable bond that had formed over countless tours and late-night jam sessions. Their music was their lifeline, and they embraced it with a fervor that had carried them through countless challenges.

As they gathered at early evening for the soundcheck, Jules overheard their animated conversations. Ruffilo, the bassist, couldn't contain his excitement. "This is it, guys! The start of the tour! Let's give 'em a show they won't forget!"

Jolly, the guitarist, added with a grin, "And let's party like rock stars afterward!"

The concert itself had been a whirlwind of energy and emotions. Jules had watched as Noah took the stage, his powerful voice resonating through the venue. The crowd's adoration was heartwarming, their voices merging with his like it was a match made in heaven.

As the final chords of the concert had echoed through the air, Jules had seen the sweat-soaked euphoria on Noah's face. The connection he forged with the audience was a testament to the raw power of his music, a force that transcended the boundaries of the stage.

Much to Jules' dismay, Noah had taken the "party like rock stars" statement, from Jolly earlier, a tad too serious.

Around two hours later the whole crew found themselves at a party in a nearby bar, celebrating another electrifying performance. The room was filled with loud laughter, music and the clinking of glasses.

Noah and the boys, still riding the high of the concert, were at the center of it all. Noah moved through the crowd with charisma and charm, the embodiment of the rock star lifestyle, trying to hide his insecurities. His deepest inner self wanted him to retreat to his hotel room, but knowing that this was not proper, he chose rather to drown his sorrows in alcohol, among the fans and partygoers. As the night wore on, he slowly but surely felt the effect of his drinks.

Normally he would already be fully into the party action with his thoughts, but this night was different. He kept catching himself thinking about this girl. The whole day he had pushed her out of his mind but now she was more present than before. Jules. His memories of that dream lingered at the edge of his consciousness, like a whisper in the dark.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted when an attractive woman joined him. It wasn't long before Noah recognized her face as one of the girls from front row. In fact, the crew had become very careful about who they invited to the after show parties, but every now and then people, often times girls with clear intentions, would sneak in. None of the guys were the kind who slept with fans, but Noah still allowed himself to flirt with one or the other from time to time. So when the woman asked him to join her for a drink, he gladly accepted, trying to get Jules of his mind.

When they set down at the bar, his gaze wandered. He glanced around, seeing his band mates and crew immersed in their own celebrations. The weight of his fame, the constant adoration of fans, and the relentless tour schedule weighed on him, and right at this moment, the temptation to escape it all was irresistible.

Drinks started to flow freely, and Noah lost track of time, the moments slipping away in a haze of laughter and intoxication. But as the night deepened, so did the weight of his choices. The memory of the girl in his dream resurfaced, like a distant melody that tugged at his heart.

Suddenly he felt like he wasn't getting enough oxygen anymore. Absently, he excused himself from the woman's company, not even remembering her name, as he navigated his way through the crowd and out of the building.

He was a little dizzy when he finally breathed in some fresh air and only now did he realize how drunk he really was.

He needed to get to the hotel. When Jules saw him like that, her neck hair began to stand up. She felt like a predator carefully watching her prey as she followed the stumbling figure through the streets.

In his intoxicated state, Noah paid little attention to the world around him. As he stumbled along the dimly lit street, the traffic light ahead of him turned red. Oblivious to the rules of the road, he continued walking, the sound of his own footsteps drowned out by the sounds of the city at night.

Jules, on the other hand, saw it all unfold.

A car, its headlights glaring, raced toward Noah with terrifying speed.

Panic started to creep up her skin as she realized what disaster was about to happen. She had no time to think and with a burst of adrenaline, Jules materialized and began to run towards Noah. With full force she crashed into him and therefore got him out of the car's path.

A muffled thud was heard as the two fell to the concrete floor, Jules' arms wrapped tightly around Noah. Out of reflex she had closed her eyes and now she couldn't bear to open them, hearing Noah's heartbeat against her ear, while her ears were ringing from adrenaline.

Noah, on the other hand, felt the same way. His heart had never beaten as fast as it had right now. She had saved him. He would have run straight into a car, but the girl that clung to him like there was no tomorrow had saved him from his sure death.

As they lay sprawled on the pavement, Jules, her heart pounding, breathed a sigh of relief as tears streamed down her face. "Are you okay?" she asked, concern etched on her face. She hadn't even realised how she began to cry.

Noah's shock was deep as he stared at her, struggling to find his voice. Despite his near-death experience and the adrenaline rushing through his body, he suddenly felt this calmness coursing through his body, as if the world had paused in this extraordinary moment.

"Never do that again, I swear to god. I'll run you over myself." Jules admonished, her voice trembling with a mix of relief and anger, as she tried to contain her cries. The realisation that she was about to loose her person, made her weep with even more force.

Noah was far too perplexed to respond, his gaze locked on her face, unwilling to let go of the security that enveloped him, when he looked at her.

Eventually, Jules pulled herself away from him, helping Noah to his feet. "Are you hurt?" she inquired, her eyes still filled with concern and tears.

Noah stared into her eyes that looked so familiar and felt almost like home to him and than slowly began to shake his head, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. As he began to regain his composure, he whispered his gratitude and scanned his surroundings. The car was gone. "Thank you for..."

But when he turned back to Jules, she had vanished into the night, leaving him standing alone on the quiet street. His confusion deepened, and he couldn't shake the feeling that his life had taken a surreal and inexplicable turn.

As he continued on his way to the hotel, the events of that night haunted him. He didn't feel a drop of alcohol in his system anymore, his ears still slightly ringing from the adrenaline. The girl who had saved him felt strangely familiar, yet he couldn't place where he had seen her before. Doubt and uncertainty gnawed at him, and he couldn't shake his confusion.

When he finally reached his hotel room, it hit him. He knew why she felt so familiar.

"Jules." he breathed out again.

Jules had saved him.

PART SIX

[munsonsreputation]

I THINK THERES BEEN A GLITCH

CHAPTER FOUR: WHAT'S IN OUR SYSTEM

↢ chapter three | series masterlist | chapter five ↣

🎧 soundtrack

steve harrington x fem!baker + artist

word count: [12K]

warnings: no use of y/n, talks / mentions of mental spiral, fluff overload (everyone buckle up and prepare to be mush by the end)

summary: you and steve find yourselves entangled in something else besides your feelings. all of the fun things — skin and bones, breakfast and laughter, goodbyes and hellos. it’s dizzying, like a drug that flows your systems and should have the both of you wondering if it’s in any of your best interests. it’s not worth denying or thinking other wise… you both know you’ve made promises, now it’s up to you both to keep them.

It’s the same room and the same bed Steve had been spending most of his life sleeping in. Worn out and faded gray bed sheets that were long overdue to be replaced and pillows that lost their fluffiness years ago. His bed was nothing special, just the place where he would burrow under after all his hardest days and battles.

But these days his bed was just a place of hiding — somewhere he would go to in order to pass time hoping he could seek comfort even when he knew he couldn’t.

He’d lay and stare up at the ceiling waiting for his parents to drive off so he could finally go down and make himself some food without being victim to a lengthy lecture.

He’d even bunch up the blankets, using them to cover his ears and drown out his parents arguing, which was usually over something so stupid that could’ve been solved with a simple ‘sorry’ or if one of them finally kept quiet and let the other speak.

He managed to master the art of forcing himself to fall asleep so he could escape it, but it always seemed to follow him in his dreams… all the pent up anxiety about the future and how scared he was that he’d turn out just like his parents.

Stuck in the cycle and forcing everyone to walk on eggshells around him.

It was only really a comfortable bed when they weren’t around, but it didn’t mean that it wasn’t lonely.

Hearing absolute silence was just as torturous as hearing his mom and dad fight.

A beautiful home, fully furnished that housed the picture perfect family only for it to be amounted to a place that didn’t feel like home at all. What a waste of space that had so much potential for a joyous family to actually live and create memories in. All it was now was filled with loneliness and nightmares.

But there were always those rare occasions where he could dream up a life that didn’t feel so lonely. A place with someone who he cherished and who felt like home to him — more than any furniture or square footage could make him feel.

Last night was one of those nights and only this time he realized it wasn’t a dream.

Through his sluggish eyes, he could still see the indentation in the shape of you from the night before. The little details of the way your arms had laid against the sheets and how your body shifted during the night. Your… his pillow etched with the silhouette of your head and your hair that sprawled over it.

The covers were partly thrown off to the side with you nowhere to be found. And as Steve weakly drew them up just to steal two more minutes of the morning warmth, he was greeted with a big waft of everything you.

The two minutes in bed didn’t seem enticing anymore. He just wanted to get to you now.

Vanilla filling his senses and coaxing his eyes wide awake.

Jasmine brightened up his energy as he made the bed.

Sweet peaches calmed his limbs as he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror and got himself freshened up for the day.

It should’ve worried him, the way that you could’ve called Nance and have her bring you to Joyce and Hop’s to get your car and head home. Leaving him without saying goodbye or talking about what happened last night. But the anxiety didn’t seem to run through his veins when it came to you or this… he felt safe and tranquil knowing you were still here.

You had put his mind at ease, promising you would be.

Last night he emerged from the bathroom, bare chested with a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his waist. His room was ill-lit, drapes blocking out most of the moonlight, letting only his weak lamp gleam up the corner of the bedroom.

You were already settled and comfortable, fast asleep in his bed. Covers brought up to your shoulders and your knees tucked up, curled like a baby snoozing soundly — or so Steve thought.

He smiled at the sight, content to know that at least you found his bed to be peaceful enough to sleep in. One hand came down to pull the covers up higher over you to keep you warm through the night. His palm lingering over your collarbone, watching and feeling you breathe in and out softly… the memory ingrained in his mind forever now.

“Night, sweet thing.”

It was a muted murmur, the last thing he was supposed to say before he switched off the light and headed downstairs to take the couch, but you had responded.

“Stay,” you stirred softly, shifting against the blankets as you picked up a throaty chuckle. Steve huffing out something about how you almost scared him to death.

But he grinned a tiny bit, crouching down to move the damp strands of hair that covered your cheeks. “You’ve been up this whole time?” he asked quietly, not wanting to invade the tranquil space.

“Mhm,” you crooned, peeping open your eyes to see him through your doziness.

His hair was still wet, itty-bitty beads of water sprinkling his exposed shoulders and the furs on his chest. He looked refreshed, but it was clear that he needed to get some much needed rest.

“We can share the bed, tonight,” you said faintly, bringing one of your hands up from beneath the covers to wrap around his wrist, “please?”

He swore you could feel his pulse in your touch, not that he minded. It felt so raw and so real different from anything he’s ever felt before. Everything about it felt almost sacred, like something out of his wildest dreams just feeling like he was needed by someone when he knew deep down it was him needing you all this time.

“Okay.” He nodded without faltering. He was met with you smiling sleepily at him, finally letting up on his wrist while you moved over to make space for him.

The lamp clicked off, cascading the room with complete darkness as he pulled back the covers and got in beside you. He was careful, putting a few inches between the both of you not knowing if closing it was something you were comfortable with.

“You can come closer,” you whispered quietly, letting your fingertips skim over his arm, letting him know he was alright to do so.

It was almost like second nature, his body drifting closer to you as you closed the remaining millimeters and draped your arms over his. You were like a bear clinging to him, yearning for his warmth and he was pleased to provide it to you on nights like this and forever, for that matter.

“Comfortable?” He chuckled bemused, looking down and seeing your head smushed under his pillow, seeking the proximity the same way he was.

“Extremely.” You sighed contently, breathing him in as your eyes fluttered shut.

Steve’s bed would never be the same, and it’s a sudden pang in his heart when he realized it because now you’ve turned it into a sacred oasis that he never wants to leave.

He swallowed nervously, letting his thumb trace circles over your shoulder. “I’m happy you’re here.”

“Me too…very very happy.” You replied sleepily, letting your head nod against his skin letting the sleep consume you.

Steve didn’t want to ruin the moment, to sound desperate when you were trying to fall asleep and so should he. But he just had to ask… to make sure this wasn’t all in his head even when it was so delicate already.

“Will you be here in the morning?” His voice was shaky, trying to keep it stable and composed.

You didn’t waste another second, more awake than ever, as you opened your eyes and smiled up at him.

“I promise.”

That night there wasn’t any silence or his parents fighting — no agonizing sounds keeping him from feeling like this wasn’t a holy place. It was your breathing, gentle inhales and exhales as he watched your chest rise, wondering if you were dreaming about him. With each passing second that he listened to your breathing, taking it in like a lullaby to his ears, he let his eyes float closed, drawing him somewhere where it was just you and him. 

His footsteps echoed on the wooden stairs that he jogged down, turning towards the living room and into the kitchen where he was met with your back facing him.

You were still dressed in his clothes, a pair of striped boxer shorts rolled over your waistline and an old faded Hawkins track team t-shirt — they both looked better on you than it ever did him.

His cheeks rose, lips tugging into a smile as he approached you. His arms rested on either side of the counter, caging you in, “morning, early bird.”

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” you teased with a giggle, leaning into the peck that he pressed on your cheek before turning to him and frowning deceptively. He looked almost worried, like he might have done something wrong, but then you broke into a grin.

“I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed.” You admitted, turning your head to the dining table where you had already prepared some cut up fruit in a bowl with a side of honey and yogurt you found in the fridge.

He ruined your surprise, yet didn’t feel an ounce of regret. Instead, his heart flocked with fever, blood rushing, and his cheeks beginning to grow sore with how much broader he was smiling now.

Breakfast in bed? An actual meal and not just a piece of toast slathered in peanut butter… not that he would ever mind if you brought him that because he’d eat anything you’d give him. But this just feels other worldly.

“That’s sweet,” he replied appreciatively, letting the smile linger on his face because he was quite sure he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to — all of this was just too much for his heart to handle, “but you could’ve slept in, I wouldn’t have minded at all.”

He’d skip breakfast if it meant he got to lie awake in the morning sunlight and watch you dream until you woke. But he also wouldn’t want to pass out on this, the sweetness of the moment with you being here and doing this for him when you didn’t have to.

You shrugged, setting down the whisk you were using for the pancake batter and letting your arms wrap around his neck, stretching yourself into him in a hug. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap you up in his arms, cradling your back and pulling you closer.

“I wanted to… felt right.” Your words springing against his skin like a million tiny kisses.

Right there in that moment, everything felt right.

He pulled back just enough to see you, a pout playing on your lips not being able to hide away in his neck. “Well, at least let me help. I can make a mean scrambled egg.” He smirked, wiggling his brow as you glanced up at him and giggled.

You rested your chin on his chest, keeping your orbs on him, and you’re sure you looked a mess.

Hair still a little tangled within the hideous bun you tossed it up into this morning. And your face looking dull not having the chance to give it a proper wash and moisturize with your beloved products waiting at your apartment.

You shouldn’t feel your best, but all of those silly insecurities don’t seem to matter, not when Steve is looking at you with fondness in his eyes, like he’s done it a million times before. Taking you in like you’re the sunshine and he’s the flora, leaves eager to soak you in and bask in your rays for as long as you’d let him.

Nothing about this feels weird or nerve racking. If anything, it feels comfortable, like home. A kind of familiarity the two of you just decided to lie in together.

Finally, after all the morning ogling, you answer him. “I’d be a fool to pass out on it, Chef Harrington.”

You tapped your fingertips along the back of his neck and he laughed at the feeling, tucking his chin down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “On it.”

Steve has moved around this kitchen many times before. He’s not the best cook in the world, almost cuts his fingers off every time he tries to finely chop ingredients or nearly burns himself with how hot he lets the pan get. But he knows how to cook food that tastes good and keeps him fed.

But you… you moved around his kitchen like it’s the waltz and you made it look effortless. The way you strode from the cabinets in search of something, eyes lighting up when you found the brown sugar and hugging it to your chest as you stepped back to grab a small bowl. You poured a teeny serving in, rolling the bag shut and striding back to put it where you found it.

You took the gooey eggshells from his hands as you swept past him, discarding them into the trash and giving your hands a wash under the tap before you dried them on a towel resting on the counter. Then you’re back at the stove, peppering a light dust of brown sugar over the raw pancake batter and giving them a flip.

It’s as if you rehearsed it — the rise and fall of every movement you make and how you make the space feel alive even in the early hours. It’s an addicting sight, like something Steve wants to watch over and over again in real time… but only, there are eggs in his pan and he’d be damned if he would mess up the first thing he’s ever cooked for you.

“What’s that for?” Steve cleared his throat with a cough, tearing his eyes from you and turning them towards the stove.

You hummed, facing him and observing how he pulled the raw eggs towards the center of the pan with the spatula. He’s focused — you’re about to have the best scrambled eggs of your life and the slight tip he gives the pan proves it to you.

“It gives them a little crust with some sweetness. That way, you don’t have to use too much syrup and it doesn’t get soggy by the time you’re done cooking them all.” You told him.

“And where’d you learn that?” He asked, taking his eyes off the pan and bringing them straight to yours.

Your shoulders bounced, bottom lip moving over your top one. “Nowhere specific, kinda just experimented, and it worked!”

Steve should’ve known… you’re far better in the kitchen than he is and he’d take all your advice, self taught or read in a cookbook.

“Smart girl.” He complimented with a coy smile as you grinned before you both turned back to the dishes.

The next seven minutes were spent with Steve plating the eggs and you forming a stack of brown sugar pancakes on top of one another. He worked on setting the table, grabbing extra napkins to get close by and making sure you both had clean glasses.

Even when you weren’t at home, you were always trying to be a good host. This time finding yourself in his fridge, moving bottles and containers over as if it would help you find something that wasn’t there.

“Are you sure you don’t want orange juice? I swear I could juice some right now!” You called out, eyeing the fresh fruits that sat in the produce drawer.

Steve barked out a laugh, head shaking, when you turned your head over your shoulder to see him. His eyes pointed to the table, the empty seat that was yours waiting for you. “Stop it! Water is fine… just come to the table, please.”

You huffed defeatedly with phony annoyance, strolling to the table with nothing in hand as Steve already grabbed you both a fresh cup of cold water. He made a scene, pretending to bow as he dramatically dragged your chair out for you while you covered your face and snickered behind them. You took a seat and even let him push you in.

The both of you opt to side by side instead of face to face — it was more comfortable and special that way, even when your knees occasionally bumped under the table.

“Thanks for doing this for me,” Steve spoke suddenly, grasping your wrist and holding it gently.

He said it like you didn’t use all of his groceries and made a mess of his kitchen. Like you were doing him a favor, something he didn’t deserve, when all you wanted to do was show him how much he deserved all the special moments of life, even homemade breakfast.

You grinned timidly, swinging your head as your other hand rested on top of his, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles. “It’s really no problem. You did let me spend the night and take your bed.”

His face fell with feign skepticism. “Technically, we shared,” he countered with a lifted brow.

You rolled your eyes, clicking your tongue. “Okay, yeah, but still! I wanted to do this…really really wanted to do this for you.”

Steve could read between the lines, understanding where you were getting at without actually saying it.

How yesterday the mental spiral had taken a toll on him even after you promised you would spend the night at his. He was particularly quiet, keeping to himself and not having the energy to do much talking, but you didn’t mind, frequently turning to him and offering a comforting glimpse, rubbing a tender hand over his shoulder to ease his nerves.

You didn’t make him feel like there was something wrong with him or try to force him into the conversations when he didn’t want to. Instead, you let him be and made it clear that everything was alright. That you would be there when he felt lost and scared, even if he striked out and had to crawl back home.

He shouldn’t have turned the night he was anticipating into a long road of catastrophic blues. The words the kids had said without thinking should’ve bounced off of him like nothing. But instead he spent the night beside you wondering if how he was feeling was a mistake, if it was really all in his head the way he thought it was, or maybe how wrong and selfish it was to ask you to stay the night.

The whirlwind of uncertainty floating away when you grabbed his hand from under the table and gave it three squeezes when no one was paying attention. It was then and there that he knew you didn’t have any plans to leave… at least not without him.

All of that was true, seeing as though you were here in front of him.

He smiled kindly, eyes full of gratitude for you taking the time to do this for him even if it meant you missed out a few more minutes of sleep. Soon he’d find a way to make it up to you, but he wasn’t quite sure if anything he did would top this.

The two of you plated yourselves some food, digging in and enjoying one another’s presence in the early morning air that enveloped you both. And as per usual, Steve wasn’t subtle when it came to something you’ve made yourself. His fork clinked against the plate after he took a bite of the pancakes, throwing his head back on the chair and moaning loudly as he chewed.

“You’re a dork!” You chided, shaking your head as you laughed and slapped a hand over your mouth.

His head lifted up slightly, patting his bare stomach and giving it a rub. “That’s incredible, you’ve gotta trademark that or something.”

“I don’t think I could trademark food, can I?” Your eyes narrowed, thinking if that was a possibility because it didn’t sound bad.

He shrugged, sitting up straight and cutting himself another piece. “No clue, but you should try it. This is better than the boxed stuff,” he said, popping the fork into his mouth.

“It’s not too tricky, I could teach you how to make the batter from scratch next time?” You offered with a warm smile, eyes showing how genuine you really were about it.

He smiled tightly, nodding his head and speaking with a half full mouth making you grin. “I’d keep the recipe a secret… promise.”

Like something alike, you wanted to keep him a secret, and you’d be his if he let you.

But it would be a shame for either of you to be each other’s secret. Neither of you wanted to hide the other away from the world — far from that, actually.

He’d shout it from the rooftops and you’d paint it in the skyline — how special you both were to each other even after this short time. Have you both known each other for twenty seconds or twenty years?

Neither of you knew nor did you care because all that mattered was the lifetime you wanted to spend together like this. How this morning and last night felt so easy, as if you’ve spent the night in each other’s arms and woke up in them in some past life before.

Time was funny, but you and Steve never minded, not when this kind of feeling was soaring through your systems at an alarming pace.

The table was quiet for a few minutes, just the forks running against the ceramic and tolerable chewing. The two of you were stealing glances at each other when he was too busy spooning yogurt into his mouth and when you stared out the window watching the birds fly by.

Steve dredged his fingers clean, propping his elbow on the table as he watched you pick up the ice cold glass of water and finally tear your eyes away from the window to catch him. 

“How do you like Joyce and Hop?” He proposed, not getting the chance to ask you last night before you both went to bed. 

You gulped down the water, eyes lighting up. “Oh, they’re wonderful! They were really welcoming and made me feel right at home.”

He wasn’t surprised at all; he knew they’d love you and you’d love them — Hop and Joyce practically talked your ear off and you seemed to enjoy it quite a bit, grateful that they were keen on getting to know you better without making you feel like you were being interrogated. 

“Hopper didn’t bore you with his do-it-yourself kitchen renovation stories?” He questioned with a chuckle, reliving the vile conversation that came up during the dinner.

You scrunched your nose, catching his drift right away and your shoulders shuddering a bit. “I could’ve gone without knowing he found a huge rat in the walls, but at least now I know if I need an exterminator I could give him a call.”

“Trust me, he would have way too much fun going around and looking for things to fix.” He warned with no actual malice, just preparing you for the dad-mode Hop would be in if the occasion ever arose.

You snapped your finger as if you remembered something.

“Like the lock Max picked! It was pretty impressive, but I think it’s also a major safety issue.” Your voice falling with the realization.

He furrowed his brows, dropping his chin from his fists, face painted with worry and confusion. “Wait, Max picked your lock? When was this?”

“Oh, Robin didn’t tell you?” he shook his head, watching you sit up, “they stopped by that morning after you left and I guess I forgot to set my alarm and they were waiting outside in the hot sun so Max picked the lock to get in.” 

You revealed the situation like it was totally normal for them to be breaking and entering. Meanwhile, Steve’s head was whirling with fear at how easy your lock must have been to pick if they managed to get in even after he was sure he locked it from the inside before he left.

He would definitely tell you later to get the locks changed for safety purposes. 

Steve let out an exasperated sigh, letting his shoulders slump with disappointment. “I swore I told her to stop doing that.”

You lifted your brow suspiciously. “Did she pick your lock?”

“Worse.” He groaned, pinching his eyes shut at the memory from a few months ago. “She picked the lock to the arcade just after closing so she could beat Dustin’s high score on Dig Dug.”

You gasped, eyes widened slightly, and a laugh caught midway through your chest. “Did she get caught?” You asked partly stifled, not believing she could actually get away with it. 

But he shook his head, further surprising you and somehow your eyes got larger, watching as he mimed her actions.

“She went to the back room and deleted the security camera footage before leaving. That’s when Robin and I closed up Family Video and caught her trying to leave out the backdoor.”

“What happened after?” You leaned in closer, waiting for the continuation of the story.

He lifted his hand in a dismissive manner, lips pursing accompanied with a playful tone in his voice, “Oh you know, classic lecture and threats of taking her to Hopper—”

You didn’t look convinced, narrowing your eyes. “She wasn’t scared at all was she?”

“Not one bit,” he deadpanned before smiling defeatedly, “she asked me to give her a ride home and gave Robin a stuffed animal she stole from the backroom.”

“You know she could make a stealthy spy.” You pointed your fork at him before stabbing a piece of apple on its prongs.

He crossed his arms across his chest and sneered, “Oh trust me, she does enough snooping… alllll of the kids do.”

“But they’re all really sweet. They probably all have good intentions and just might have questionable ways of going about it.”

He knew you were right, and yesterday was a prime example of that.

The kids meant well just trying to get him to finally fess up his feelings that had been harboring since the moment he laid eyes on you. Their goal was never to send Steve into such a mental spiral that it caused him to combust internally and detach for the rest of the night. It would be unfair of him to ever think that of them because it was far from what they were.

They all were good kids, cared about each other and wanted the best for everyone they loved, especially him. They all knew how much Steve sacrificed for them, plenty of times of almost getting fired for giving out free ice cream and letting them off the hook for returning their tapes late.

It was about time that they helped Steve in the only way they knew how, which was trying to encourage him to make a move on the girl of his dreams, and they had no idea it would have ended up like that.

He felt like an asshole for the way he acted towards them. They were young and just wanted to see him happy, but instead they saw him moody and petulant.

You didn’t miss the way his eyes glazed over, sitting stiffly in the dining chair instead of the relaxed way he was just moments ago. You reached out a hand, setting it on his forearm and letting it move and up and down.

“Are you okay, Stevie?”

He blinked, instantly melting back into the relaxed state once your touch was on his. A half smile quirking up on the corner of his lips, thankful for your concern and quickness.

“Thought I told you not to worry about me?”

Your concern faded slightly, a warm glint in your eye now. “Thought I told you I would, anyway.”

“I’m never gonna win, am I?” He frowned sarcastically, watching as your hand fell back to the table.

“Nope! Now, what’s on your mind?” You ordered, shifting your body to face him fully with your knees settling against his.

You looked determined to figure it out and try to help him. To get into his mind and kick those worries away. Your elbows resting on your thighs as you kept your eyes on him, patiently waiting until he was ready.

He ran a rough palm over his face, wriggling his shoulders. “Just thinking about how stupid I acted at the party last night. Felt like a ghost with how quiet I was.”

“You didn’t act stupid at all,” your voice filled with confidence while you shook your head, “you just needed a little break and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I felt like an asshole.” His voice trailed off with annoyance with himself. 

“Don’t say that,” you pouted, poking his chest with a disapproving look on your face. “You’re not an asshole.”

He always found it endearing, your ability to always see the best in him, even when he knew he wasn’t at his best. Usually Steve’s always upbeat when it came to the friends and the kids, he’s known to be the friendliest of them all, but last night he felt far from that. As if he was the stranger sitting at the table lost in his own thoughts. 

“You sure?” He asked like you’d ever lie to make him feel better. 

You chuckled, nodding undoubtedly. “I’ve encountered a few assholes in my life and you’re waaaay off from one. You’re like the most non-asshole guy I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah?” This time a twinge of playfulness came with the question.

Nodding obviously, you leaned closer to him, your face hanging only inches away from his.

“A guy who memorizes a girl’s coffee order and picks up her favorite pastries when she’s far from a morning person?” Your lips curled into a smile. “I’m positive you’re not an asshole.”

Like a force of habit, his palm cradled your cheek, while you continued to stare up at him like he hadn’t been thinking so horribly about himself just moments ago. He was getting lost in your eyes; the ones filled with so much devotion and softness for the moment and how even this is enough for him.

“What if I just so happened to steal that cronut recipe?” He mumbled just clear enough for you to hear. 

You pushed back against his touch, cheek rising suspiciously in the palm of his hand. “Why? Are you hiding it from me? Because if you are, then that’s cruel!”

A dimpled smile broke out on his face, closing his eyes blissfully and swinging his head no. There’s laughter erupting from you and he could feel it in the way the apple of your cheeks leaped against his palm. You didn’t shy away from his hand, letting yourself stick to him like the sweetest honey, and he didn’t care about the mess. 

The real mess was whatever was in your systems.

He finally spoke. “No, but I know a stealthy spy who could help me break in and get it.”

You rolled your eyes, tongue in cheek. “You’re trouble, Harrington.”

The pulse point on his wrists felt your lips before he could comprehend what was happening. Your plush skin grazing his skin lightly, a kind of kiss that felt electrifying even when it wasn’t upon his own lips. It’s innocent yet still all around tantalizing, the urge to tell you that he’s crazy for you on the tip of this tongue more than ever now. 

He was sure before that he’d go through all the trouble if it meant making you happy, but now he’s positive he’d even break into a family-owned establishment to get you that secret recipe – and most importantly, to feel you like this every morning. 

His pulse was undeniably thumping against your lips, though you didn’t mind, letting them stay for a minute until the phone abruptly rang and you were tearing away from his hold, ripping yourself from him like a bandaid that took the skin with it. His wrist began to feel lonely, pulse feeling like it’s dying out not having you there anymore.

To your surprise, you weren’t feeling at all embarrassed, simply just giddy as he cursed apologetically and let his hand fall into his lap as he got up. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be right here!” You vowed, tipping your head back to watch as he left the kitchen.

It was only seven in the morning and he never got calls this early. Ever. Unless it was the kids. 

“Hello,” he answered, pressing the hunk of plastic to his ear. 

“Hey, kid,” it was Hopper, “how are, umm, you and the girl?” 

Steve peeked back into the kitchen, seeing you finishing up the rest of the cut up fruit. “We’re having breakfast right now. What’s up?”

“Honey! They’re already having breakfast!” Hop called out, sound a bit far away. 

“Crap!” Joyce wailed out in the background. 

Steve laughed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Sorry. If you would’ve called half an hour ago, we’d still be in bed.”

“You guys shared the bed?” Hop inquired, his voice accusing and curious at the same time.

“Well… yeah.” Steve didn’t have any reason to lie, but he was regretting it the second it left his mouth.

“Soooo… s’that why you both left early yesterday?” Hop suggested, sounding more interested in conversing now. 

Steve turned away from the adjoining wall, cupping his hand over the receiver as he spoke sharply. “What? No! We left early because I was crabby and she was getting tired.”

A puff of air came from the other end, Hoppers laugh heavy. “You know you don’t have to lie—”

“Oh my god, I’m hanging up, now.” Steve’s fingers were ready to press the hook switch to end the call. 

“Tell your girl I checked her tire pressure and added some air into her back left wheel, thing was nearly deflated.” 

“Yeah okay, appreciate it. We’ll be there in a few.” 

There’s talking in the background, he could hear Joyce saying something and Hopper attempting to cut her off with ‘yeah’s’ and ‘got' it’s.’

“And Joyce says she’ll save some breakfast sandwiches.” Hop grumbles.

“Okay, thanks, bye.” Steve said rushed, pulling the phone away from his ear.

He placed the phone back onto the rest, shaking his head a bit at the teasing he often faced from Hopper, but it was all in good fun. At times, he felt that Hop and Joyce were more like parents to him than his own. Hell, they knew more about his life than his parents ever did. 

“Who was that?”

He took a seat beside you again. “Hop. I think Joyce made him call to ask if we wanted some breakfast.”

“Oh no, I hope she didn’t go through too much trouble.”

Steve shook his head, reassuring you. “She said she’d save us breakfast sandwiches for when we go and get your car.”

“That’s sweet of her.” You bubble, a smile replacing how apologetic you feel for missing out on her breakfast.

“And Hop said to tell you he checked your tire pressure and filled the back left one up with air.” Steve informed you, watching the way your eyes filled with appreciation and surprise.

“Oh my god, he’s the best! How much do I owe him?”

You’re a lot of things — talented, kind, beautiful, all around down to Earth, but you don’t know much about cars and he doesn’t blame you because they’re boring, but he now realized he can never let you walk into an auto shop alone and let you be victim to those premium air scams.

“Nothing, sweetheart. The air is free, and he just uses a special machine to fill it up.”

“But it must have taken him forever.” You protest with a deep breath, determination behind your voice like you’re sure of it and you want to compensate the old guy.

Steve’s face softened, moving over to clutch your hand and give it a squeeze. “He takes longer to pick up donuts and head into work. Filling up tires is easy peasy for him, I promise you.”

“You sure?” You bit your lip still feeling a bit bad for Hop going out of his way.

He nodded, giving your hand another squeeze. “Positive.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“Just curious as to why we left early last night. Told him I was crabby, and you were getting sleepy.”

“I wasn’t that tired.” You mumbled.

Steve scoffed, forehead creasing up because you clearly didn’t see yourself how he saw you last night. “Sweetheart, your eyes drooping on the drive home.”

“No, they weren’t!” You half-laughed in defense, palms resting on the table. 

“You fell asleep so quickly last night.” He pointed, roaring at the way you gave in and blushed. 

“I was just really comfortable.” You whined, lifting your eyes away from his in an attempt to stop yourself from looking like a dork. 

“Yeah, you looked super comfortable. You were even snoring a little.”

You shrieked, a small scream coming from your throat and hands covering your face. “Was I?” God, that’s embarrassing!”

He wrapped his fingers around your wrists, working them away from your face without any resistance. Your eyes met with his smile and headshake. “No, it was cute! You’re just lucky you fell asleep first because had you not my snoring would’ve kept you up.”

“I think I’d be able to fall asleep either way. It was so comfy.”

What you really meant to say was that he’s comfy — practically was your space heater and human pillow. You would be a liar if you didn’t think that you were a bit too clingy last night, but he didn’t seem to mind from what you remembered and it felt nice not having to apologize for that. You know Steve would’ve told you if he didn’t like it; he was always honest with you. 

“Would it be okay if I had another shower before we leave?” You watched him stack the plates, getting up and walking them over to the sink. 

“Course! Go and I’ll take care of the dishes.” He replied, taking the bowls you had stacked from your hands. 

You willingly handed them over, following him to the counters. “No, c’mon let me dry and you can wash,” attempting to reach into the drawers to retrieve a clean kitchen towel.

But he blocked you, keeping his hip attached to the wood. “No, go on and shower. I’m not moving till your butt is walking upstairs.”

You both knew he wouldn’t relent, not like the first time you’d stepped into his home and insisted you helped gather plates and cutlery. Things were different now, with time grew comfortability, but also playfulness and ease.

“Fine!” you fussed, trudging away dramatically. 

“Did you need to borrow clothes?” He called out, arms folded over his chest as he watched you.

You halted near the doorway, spinning and wrapping your arms round the frame, smiling stupidly at him. “Please? I would use my clothes, but they still smell like charcoal.”

“Pick whatever you want, and leave the dirty ones in the hamper. I’ll do a load before we leave.”

“Thanks! You’re the best!” You singsonged, making your way up the stairs leaving him with the biggest love sick smile on his face.

The Harrington house has never felt this homey and for Steve it’s a feeling that he never wants to fleet. His fists running under lukewarm water scrubbing dishes that weren’t only used by him but by someone whom he wanted to stay with. The lip print you had left around the cusp of the glass, suds away, and he wondered when was the next time you’d be coming around. 

Clean dishes pile onto the kitchen rag you laid out before you went to shower. He decided to let them air dry instead, making better use of his time by heading upstairs and grabbing the hamper of dirty laundry filled with both yours and his clothes.

Strolling down the hallway, he heard the sound of the running water in the shower accompanied by your hums to a tune he couldn’t pick up from behind the wooden door. Though it doesn’t fail to make him smile, pleased that you felt so comfortable at his place already. Turning into his bedroom, he fetched the laundry basket, twisting back around to head downstairs towards the washing machine. 

Steve had never put much thought into actually taking the time to do separate loads of laundry, honestly just sticking everything in one wash and throwing them in the dryer as any other person would do. He was guilty, a few times some of his white t-shirts would dye a bright green from his work vest but they were replaceable.

It’s only then when your clothes are in his care that he takes the time to read the labels to make sure he’s washing them properly. Your floral long sleeve, safe to wash along with the rest of the other garments. But he doesn’t risk it with the denim overalls, deciding that it’s best for them to have its own cycle to prevent it from fading too much and wearing the material down.

A hefty scoop of detergent goes in with the wash before he clicks start, and the whirling begins.

Your fingers reached for the lotion bottle that sat on his bathroom counter, pumping a dollop into your palm and spreading it across your damp skin. Though it’s unscented, it still smelled like Steve, a hint of him layering itself over the body wash you just used in his shower a moment ago. When the two are paired together, it’s a reminder that you didn’t wash away his touch from last night or this morning, but now you felt like you were reapplying it like a second layer of skin.

You worked the tan buttons that lined the front placket through the buttonholes, leaving the first two undone for a more casual feel, letting it droop down one of your shoulders. Another pair of his boxer shorts, this time light blue colored, rolled up over your hips to fit snuggly.

Running your hands down your sides, you took a deep breath in the mirror, satisfied with the way you looked despite the slouchy fit to the oversized garments. You liked the way you looked in Steve's clothes, no matter how baggy they were on you. 

“Let me fix…this,” you complained to yourself, motioning around your head before tugging your hair out of the bun and letting it fall down your back.

Your fingers worked through the roots, giving them a bit of volume while the other brushed the ends, untangling some of the knots. You sectioned your hair in half, keeping the top half in a little bun in the back of your head while the bottom half flowed down nicely.

Grabbing your damp towel off the counter, you hung it on the rack before hitting the light switch off and opening the door.

“Oops, sorry!” You yelped, running smack dab into Steve’s side as he walked by.

He tsked at himself, immediately stabilizing you by the shoulders. “Oh, shit, sorry,” he paused, the two of you laughing now before he looked down and realized what you were wearing. “Woah, you look nice.”

Your fingers played with the sleeves that nearly covered your palms, looking up at him through your lashes. “Hope you don’t mind. It looked nice.”

Steve shook his head, shamelessly admiring the way it looked on you. He hasn’t worn the button down in a few weeks, forgetting it was even in his closet, but glad you found it and picked it out for yourself. 

“Looks better on you.” His hands rubbed up and down the sleeves before nodding his head towards his bedroom where you followed. 

He headed for his closet, pulling the accordion doors open while you plopped down comfortably onto his neatly made bed, shifting onto your stomach as you observed him. 

“Got any idea on what I should wear?” 

“Dark jeans? Maybe some Nikes?” You suggested, propping your chin up on your arms.

“Nude top half?” He said, and you could feel the smirk in his voice.

You snorted. “Shut up. You’ll look good in whatever you pick.”

He plucked some pieces off the hangers, shutting the doors before turning to you. “Just teasing. I’ll be quick and then we’ll be out of here.”

“Take your time…do you mind if I sketch?” 

You looked towards his desk, eyeing the yellow notepad that sat on top of the rest of his belongings. He nodded, walking up to it and grabbing a pen and pencil and handing them to you. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you!” You took it from him, getting to work as he walked across the hall. 

You didn’t take yourself seriously with the sketch, drawing up whatever you had in your head. It’s what you had woken up to that morning—Steve’s arm slung across your stomach with his face in the crook of your neck. Snores and breaths greeting your skin in the purest kind of way, even if it had gotten you up a little earlier. 

You wished you had a polaroid around to capture the scene, but thankfully your photographic memory wouldn’t ever let you forget it. Such a sight to see the sun peeking in through the cracks of the curtains, spilling a beautiful glow over his back that made each and every single one of his beauty marks stand out – now you were positive you knew where each other was. 

He looked at peace, face no longer sulked and somber like it had been the night prior. The crease between his brow ironed out, not a glimmer of anxiety as he dreamed…if only you could convince him to stay right there forever because you didn’t want to share. 

“Ready?”

Losing track of time when you were lost within the pen and paper wasn’t abnormal, but being pulled out of the trance by a beautiful boy was something new. You peered up from the page, breath hitched as you took all of him in.

A color block polo — dark blue to compliment the wash of his jeans and cream in the center. You liked to think he was matching you in a way. 

“You look really good.” You complimented with a tight smile, capping the pen and rolling off of your stomach. 

“You picked it so thank you.” 

He turned to his drawers, pulling them open to get a clean pair of socks. Unbeknownst to him, you ripped the sketch off the pad, folding it and slipping it under one of the corners of his landline, just enough of it peeking out for him to find later.

You slung your bag over your shoulder, giving yourself a one over in the hanging mirror before Steve finally shut the drawer and turned back to you. 

“The wash isn’t done yet?” He said, letting you walk in front before he closed his door behind him. 

You hummed out a no, listening closely to hear the slight rumbling of the machine. “I can still hear it running.”

You both stopped at the front door, Steve leaning against the wall as he slipped his socks on and pushed them into his Nikes. Undoing the laces, he knotted them tighter, pulling the strings taut.

“I’ll pop them in the dryer when I get home and give you your stuff the next time I see you?”

“That’s perfect, and I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other soon.” You assured him, bending down as you strapped your sandals on. 

He waited until you were ready, opening the front door for you and then reaching into his pockets for the keys. With your back facing him, you looked out on his driveway, seeing how the shiny red hood reflected the sunlight. It was practically spotless, not even a smidge of dirt across his front bumper — he must have really adored his car. 

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever told you how nice your car is.” 

“You know she used to be cleaner before the kids started eating and leaving their crumbs behind.” He told you, his fingers twisted the front door to make sure it was locked, which it was. 

“They’ve got you wrapped around their pinkies.” You nudged him as you walked down his driveway. 

He wiggled the keys in the air. “Wanna give it a drive?”

“HA! You’re so funny.”

“No, I’m serious.” He added, placing the keys in your hands and closing your fingers around them. 

“You’re gonna let me drive your fancy car?” 

He laughed comically, unsure why it seemed so out of this world to you that he would let you drive his car. You’re probably the only person Steve trusted to drive it. You’re responsible, and unlike Eddie, he knows you won’t try to race the other cars on the road. 

“You’ve got your license, which means you know how to operate a car. Fancy or not.” 

“You sure?” You sought again skeptically, giving him one last chance to back out. 

“I trust you. Now c’mon, I’ll give you directions and everything and this time you won’t get lost.” He assured you, walking over to the driver’s side holding the door open for you. 

“You put way too much trust in me, Steve.” You puffed with a weak laugh, walking over to get in.

“Actually, just the right amount.” He patted the top of the hood before shutting the door. 

He held his hands out for your purse, resting it in his lap as you began adjusting the seat and mirrors to your liking. Steve reminded you that it was okay to adjust it as much as you needed, that he would be able to fix it all back to normal later. Before you knew it, you were on the road, driving in probably the nicest car you’ve ever driven in your life while the radio played and Steve gave you directions to Joyce and Hop’s.

“And ladies and gentlemen, we’ve arrived…alive!” Steve cupped his hands around his mouth, announcing it with a deep voice as you giggled. 

“Stop it!” You placed the car into park before nudging his shoulder with a feeble fist.

His hands let up, looking in your direction with a small smile showing up. “I knew you’d do good.”

 “Got my half broken down piece of crap to thank.” You joked, jutting your chin to your less than adorned car parked beside his.

“You know Eddie’s uncle knows a thing or two about cars? Maybe he could check it out one day?”

“Oh my god, please?”

“I’ll call Eds today and see what Wayne can do.” 

“You’re amazing.” 

Steve felt like he’d been reduced to a fit of smiles and sore cheeks all morning, taking in your compliments and passing them back to you. He’s used to people thanking him, but never for the bare minimum parts he promises you he’ll never break. It’s something he could get acquainted with, and he hoped it would never end. 

Within his peripheral vision, he could see the family begin to crowd the porch, watching through the windshield. “Looks like we’ve got a crowd.” 

“I’m not surprised.” You retorted, making the first move to remove the key from the ignition and open the door. 

“Morning!” You hailed out loud, tossing the keys over to Steve as he locked it up. 

“You let her drive your car!” El exclaimed, though you were both pretty sure she meant it as a question. 

“Mhm, she’s horrible, a menace to society. You should arrest her right now, Hop.” Steve answered seriously, patting Hop on the behind with a growing smirk. 

“You’re ridiculous.” You snorted, waking over to give the kids and Jonathan a hug. 

“Had a fun night?” Hop urged, leaning against the post. 

You nodded, looking up at Steve. “More like relaxing… Steve’s shower pressure is perfect, better than the one I have at home.” You informed them, missing the smirks that fell on Hop and Jonathan’s faces. 

Hop stuck his hand out, pushing at Steve’s shoulder roughly. “Oh, I’m sure Steve has the right amount of pressure somewhere else—”

Joyce erupted with a loud cough, picking up your attention and catching her stomp on his foot in the process, while he winced, cursing under his breath.

“Inside!” She blurted, clearing her throat and gesturing to the front door, "I’m gonna give you the dish you brought inside! I just washed and dried it a little while ago.”

“Oh, okay!”

The spectators on the front porch waited until you were out of reach to start talking about what was going through their minds since you and Steve left last night. It was a short goodbye; you thanking Joyce and Hop for having you over and giving everyone else a hug while Steve waited by until you were done. Safe to say, once you both drove off, they all speculated on what was going to happen and why you were really spending the night at his.

“You’re disgusting, dad.” Will scowled, shaking his head with revulsion. 

Hopper ignored him, looking over at Steve. “She’s wearing your clothes.”

“Okay and?” Steve said, looking a little annoyed at how anyone was crediting him for the truth. 

“You two had sex.” He declared flatly, a grin tugging up on his lips as the porch exploded with grunts and obscenities to shut up. 

“Oh, my god!” Jonathan choked on his spit, turning away and laughing.  

“Gross!” El yelped, covering her tomato red face. 

“I think I’m gonna barf.” Will declared, dramatically clutching his stomach. 

Steve rolled his eyes at their ignorance, arms crossing over his chest. “Believe it or not, I don’t need to have sex with her to have a good night.”

“Wow, isn’t that the first?” Jonathan bantered with a satirical inflection in his tone. 

“Is that a hickey on your neck?” Steve narrowed his eyes, pointed at the purple bruise hiding behind his messy hair. 

“I’m definitely gonna throw up.” Will gagged, turning away and covering his mouth.

El frowned, looking down at her chipped nails. “Is that why Nancy didn’t want to paint my nails last night?”

Hop looked between the youngest and the oldest. “I thought she left with Robin after the barbecue.”

“Oh my god, this isn’t about me!” Jonathan stammered, slapping a hand behind his ear to hide the love bite. 

“What happened?” You buzzed, strolling back out to the porch with the glass bowl in hand and Joyce beside you.

Steve grinned wickedly, happy that he got them off his back, turning to Jonathan and smacking him over the head lightly. “Nothing, just teasing him.”

“Speaking of, Jonathan, don’t you need to give her something?” Joyce’s eyes darted to the back of his pocket where the flyer was folded up. 

He reached behind him, passing it over to you, Steve taking the bowl from your hands so that you could unfold it and read its contents. A bright graphic announcement of a farmer’s market that would be hosted in Hawkins next weekend. 

“Nance meant to give it to you last night, but she forgot,” Jonathan began, “We’re trying to get the town rallying behind small business before they all get driven out. She was wondering if you wanted to help out and host a booth.”

“Like a bake sale?” You proposed. 

He shrugged, looking over at his brother for some guidance. “Kinda, but she was thinking of it as a bake sale and art sale combined.”

Will chimed in without missing a beat. “I pitched the idea to Nance, and she seemed to really like it. I could help you manage the booth. I’ll take the art side and you can handle the baked goods, then we switch around the halfway mark.”

“That’s genius.” You grinned, reaching back to rubbing his shoulder proudly. 

“No really, you guys should do it.” Steve supported from behind you knowing that you would be great at something like this. 

El let out a gasp, clutching your shoulder lightly as she wedged herself between you and Steve. “I can help with the money! I’m getting better at counting change!” She spoke bubbly, making you and him laugh.

“Nancy’s covering the whole thing and writing a paper about it. She’s really hoping to get it published.”

You’d help out either way knowing that this was an important cause, but hearing about how Nancy was the leader of this whole thing made you want to help even more. She was so passionate when talking to you about her love for writing and keeping these mom-and-pops in her town up and running — you were definitely in. 

“Well, tell her I’d be happy to help!” You replied warmly, folding up the paper and sticking it in your purse. 

“Great! I’ll let her know!”

You twisted your head, looking over at Hop. “Oh! And thank you for filling up the tire!” 

“No problem, kid.”

“It didn’t take you long, no?” 

“Easy as could be.” The older man assured you with his tongue clicking. 

“Told ya.” Steve smirked, pressing his elbow gently into your side, making you giggle. 

The two of you didn’t notice how the family was watching the way you and Steve interacted like a couple, so oblivious to the small touches and teasing that usually never came with everyone else. It was the kids who stepped forward, breaking up the love dove fest between the both of you. Will slung his arm over Steve’s shoulder and El rested her chin on his shoulder with those puppy eyes that the babysitter could not say no to, even after the meltdown last night. 

“Steve, could you give us a ride to the arcade? Lucas and Max are already there.”

Steve scoffed, glancing over at the other adults around. “You’ve got your parents and your brother here who all have licenses you know.”

“Hop and I are gonna go run errands!” Joyce clapped her hands, gawking up at Hop who snapped out of it and nodded agreeingly.

“Gotta go see Nancy.” Jonathan tried to excuse himself.

It was no use. Steve was ultimately the go-to chauffeur, the best and safest driver who wouldn’t only take them to point A and B, but stayed until they were ready to go back home and occasionally gave them spare change when they ran out. 

“Go get changed.” Steve exhaled, utterly defeated.

El and Will cheered, detaching themselves from his sides before engulfing you in a quick, yet tight hug. “Bye! We’ll see you!” They said before rushing inside. 

“Bye-bye, kiddos.”

Steve looked over at you, tilting his head towards your car. “C’mon, I’ll walk you.” 

You nodded, twiddling your fingers at Jonathan and his parents. “Bye guys, thanks again!”

“See ya sweetie.”

Steve stepped a bit ahead of you, opening the driver door when you clicked the fob before moving towards the back seat and putting the dishware on the empty seats. You waited until he shut the door before reaching up and wrapping him up in a hug. 

Your bodies molded together, like they’ve done times before, holding one another properly like it was routine by now. His face in the crook of your neck while you tiptoed and rested your forehead under his jaw. 

“Drive home safe okay?” He squeezed your back, feeling the skin indent through the garment. 

“I will.” You promised, taking a deep breath of him in, savoring everything right now. 

“Thank you.”

“Don’t let anyone beat Max’s high score on Dig Dug.” You spoke half jokingly. 

“I’ll try.” He huffed out against your neck 

“Tell me about it later.”

He gave your back one last gentle squeeze, pressing a kiss to your temple before he released you and let you get into the front seat. You hadn’t made the move to close the door yet, just settling in by placing your bag on the passenger seat and twisting on the ignition.

“You still have a full tank?” Steve peered a ways bit in, his focus on the arrow on your dashboard. He got a glimpse of the red light that switched on, making a mental note to bring it up to Eddie later today.

You took a peek, nodding and looking up to meet his gaze. “A little more than half. I should be okay for the drive home.”

“Okay, sorry, just wanted to make sure. Didn’t want you running out on the highway.” He apologized sheepishly, raking a hand through his hair. 

“No, it’s alright, it was sweet.” You giggled, moving up to tuck a stray piece of hair away from his eyes. 

He gulped, your hand still trying to place the piece with his roots. “See you in a few days?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding your head, “a few days.” You agreed, fingertips finally trailing over his cheek and jaw before falling back into your lap. 

“O-okay… great, awesome, get home safe.” He sputtered slightly, eyes still holding yours. 

“You too! Oh, and Steve?” You stopped him from moving away from your car, though he wasn’t making plans to, anyway.

“Yeah?”

“I might have left something on your desk, but you can just check it out later okay?”

“Something important? I can drive down and get it real quick?”

You shook your head immediately. “No, no, I mean yeah, it’s important, but not that important… well I kinda hope that it is important, to you I mean — sorry, am I rambling?”

“Not at all.” He said, biting back a chuckle. 

“Just…just check it out when you get home okay?” You asked, voice fluttering with desperation like you needed him to find it. 

“Promise.”

You took a deep breath in, smiling wistfully and feeling your chest tighten having to say goodbye. “See ya, Steve.”

“I’ll see you, cupcake.” He assured you, tapping the hood of your car and shutting your door gently.

It’s been hours since this morning. The day slowly dwindled into night by the time Steve parked his car in the driveway and unlocked the front door. He was only able to pop in for a few minutes before he brought the kids to the arcade, throwing the clean laundry into the dryer and saving your overalls for when he got home. Slipping his shoes off, he made a beeline to the laundry room, tossing the denim material into the machine before emptying the dryer and taking the basket with him.

“Fuck,” He spat, stubbing his toe near his desk in the darkness before clicking on the lamp for a little bit of light.

He dropped the basket onto the floor, making plans to fold and put them all away before he went to bed. But eyes caught the bright yellow paper tucked under his home phone, crimped into fourths with his name written in a heart on it.

It was you who left it and he knew it. His hand springing forward and nearly toppling the phone off the desk all together as he seized it and swiftly opened it up without ripping.

A sketch of you and him in bed. You’re lying awake, facing towards him with your hands resting on his arm that’s sprawled over your stomach. His face is partly hidden in your neck, yet you’ve detailed everything like the bridge of his nose and the curve of his jaw. Even the freckles that litter his skin are dotted in the blank ink. Glimmers of sunlight created with the gray graphite along with the creases of the bed sheets covering the bottom half of your bodies.

Even for a sketch, he knows this is unreal, the talent you have, insane for drawing this up in the matter of his fifteen minute shower. He should have been looking at himself, appreciating how much thought you put in to making sure it looked exactly like him, yet he’s looking at you.

How you’ve drawn your face with somehow all the emotions that he can feel through this piece of paper. That while he was asleep dreaming of you, you were awake watching him. It’s intimate, like you’ve let him know what you’ve both been feeling all this time and finally confessed.

In the prettiest and neatest handwriting he’d ever seen, you had left a message in the blank corner.

‘You look pretty when you’re sleeping, Stevie. Not gonna forget like an idiot this time… xxx-xxx-xxxx.’

Steve had never picked up the phone and dialed so speedily that he had to hang up and redial, totally messing up and pressing the wrong numbers the first time.

It’s been hours since you departed Hawkins. The drive back to Roane was uneventful but still smooth, hitting no traffic and even crunching enough time to stop by the diner to say hello to Dorothea and catch her up on life.

You had spent the rest of the day fueled with energy and anticipation. The second you walked into your apartment you felt a spark of motivation. Something calling you back to the piece you had abandoned only 24 hours ago. Now you had a clear mind and no thoughts of feeling like the sketch looked like garbage — even if it was a flicker of false inspiration, you’d take it.

Half of the sketch had already been painted by the late afternoon. Different shades of browns you had mixed together for the golden crust of the pie as well as the lattice design you had freehanded. Only parts of the cherry filling had been painted with a red too red for your liking, but you’d go back in tomorrow to refine it instead of beating yourself up then and forgetting about the progress you had made.

You were trying to be nicer to yourself.

Little progress still meant progress, and that was the one thing that mattered. That finally something in your system was flowing the way you wanted it to, and part of you felt like it was Steve. Possibly his reminder echoing in the back of your head that the act of trying was literally you trying, and that in itself was good enough.

You were good enough and the progress you made was good enough.

Breathe. Take it in. Breathe out. Take it in.

The act of you literally doing breathing exercises in front of your painting could’ve been seen as narcissistic. Maybe it was? But for you, it meant something a lot different. It was you patting yourself on the back for what you did and making mental notes of what you could’ve improved on without openly criticizing yourself so harshly.

You were so good to other people; you had to find it in yourself to be good to you. To treat you the way, you treated others — how you complimented everyone for doing their best and how you should’ve been doing the same all this time.

It was never too late to break down that old system….to grow and be better.

You had walked away from the canvas minutes ago, busy in the kitchen grabbing a little snack and figuring out what you were going to have for dinner or even if you had any energy left to make some. A hot bag of popcorn came out of the microwave and you popped open a soda, going to sit at the table for a little downtime before—

RING! RING! RING!

“Eeeek!” Squealing you nearly tripped over the coffee table, rushing towards the phone juggling your snacks as you struggled to figure out what to do first — put everything down or answer the phone. 

“Hello!” You answered nearly out of breath yet cheerfully, gasping quietly as you caught your can of Coke before it tipped over and made a mess. 

“Hey!” Steve’s voice rang through the other line, and he sounded just as delighted. 

“Steve! Hey….” you paused, catching your breath, “y-you found my sketch?”

“It’s my newest prized possession.”

“I missed you… I-I mean, I missed hearing your voice. We literally just saw each other this morning.” 

Somehow it felt easier to talk to Steve in person rather than on the phone–even if it meant he could physically see you blushing and smiling like a maniac. Yet he found it cute, how you tried to cover your tracks as if he didn’t feel the same way and could imagine what you looked like right then.

“I missed you too — you’re voice and you.” He said, making you smile wider.

“What are you up to?” You asked, getting comfortable on the floor.

“Laying in bed, still looking at the drawing while talking to you.”

“Are you sleepy?” You wondered, realizing the hour and the day he must have had.

“No! Sorry… I just didn’t want you to think I’m tired. I mean I am tired, but I’m not tired enough to not want to talk to you.” He said convincingly, though his stumbling over words made you second guess it.

“You can always sleep if you want to…we could talk tomorr—”

He cut you off with an abrupt disapproving hum. “Don’t even think about it!”

You giggled, shoulders rising and falling comfortably before you started up. “You’ll never guess what I did today!”

“Steal the cronut recipe?” He guessed without skipping a beat.

“Oh my god, no!”

“Fineee tell me.”

“I painted!” You exclaimed, voice rising higher, “like actually. really. painted. something with my own hands and I didn’t look at it and think “wow this looks like shit,” I did it!”

You sounded proud of yourself, and he hoped you were feeling that just as much on the inside. Only a week ago, you were tearing yourself apart in the diner where you sat across from him, and he could do nothing but speak encouraging and honest words to you, hoping you’d see it through the way he did.

If he was there, he’d give you the biggest hug in the world then take you out to the diner. This time he’d actually grab the bill before you could and bring more quarters so you could play an unlimited amount of love songs and dance with him until your bellies were full and your legs were tired.

You wished he was here.

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s great! What’d you paint?”

You swallowed, peering up at the canvas that was drying. “It’s uhh… it’s a surprise!”

“Surprise?” He said, literally taken by surprise.

“Yeah! So I can’t tell you.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing it… maybe soon?”

“Fingers crossed.”

That was enough for him… a promise that one day, whenever it may be, he would get the chance to see it with his very own eyes instead of just hearing about it. He already knew he’d be complimenting it and you for days on end, you’d probably get sick of it, but he wouldn’t.

“You’ll never guess what happened today.” Steve began shuffling a bit on his bed to get comfortable.

You gasped, reaching for your popcorn and tossing some in your mouth. “Did Dustin beat Max’s score?”

“Worse.” He said behind a strained laugh.

“Oh god.”

“Mike did!”

You slapped your hand down on the coffee table, making him chortle on the other line, knowing you’d react like this. “Oh, my gosh! Tell. Me. Everything!”

“It’s a long one.” He warned you, hoping you had the time to give him.

You scoffed jokingly, grabbing your snacks and leaning back on the couch cushions. “I’ve got all night, Harrington.”

Your midnights. Your mornings. Your afternoons. He hoped he could have them all... he wasn't sure if it was too soon for all of that, if the idea of having them already thought up in his mind was cool or not.

But he'd just have to hope that everything... all of this, you and him.

It was delicate, but it didn't always have to be.

“Lucky me.”

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: how are we all feeling after that? i know i am kicking my feet wishing i had a steve to treat me so soft and nicely! ugh, guys this is probably my most favorite chapter i've written so far -- i really wanted this chapter to focus on domesticity and the softness between glitch reader and steve!!! my heart and soul is always alway so thankful for the wonderful effie aka @translatemunson who is always giving me feedback and helping me proof-read...i literally could not do this without her so thank you so much bby, i love you!!! 🥹💘 i really hope you all love this chapter as much as i do...isn't it just so delicate?!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @scoopshxrrington @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3 @claireiscrying @we-out-here-simping @dreamerjj