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munsonsreputation · 3 months

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I THINK THERES BEEN A GLITCH

CHAPTER SIX: GLORIOUS HAPPENINGS OF HAPPENSTANCE

↢ chapter five | series masterlist | chapter seven ↣

🎧 soundtrack

steve harrington x fem!baker + artist

word count: [13.2K]

warnings: no use of y/n, cursing, idiots pining, shitty ex being an idiot, talks of anxiety/panic attack, overall fluff

summary: the small town of hawkins finally hosts their first official farmers market, but it certainly wouldn't be a town affair without some drama and saboteurs.

You wanted to soak it all in, let it bathe you in the rays of the sunlight, blanketing you in a warmth that you never wanted to forget. The plush of his lips against yours, chest to chest with your hearts beating in synchrony, hands gripping you closer and closer until—

“Rise and shine, lovebirds!”

You groaned, sinking your face deeper into Steve’s chest, pulling the covers over your head in an attempt to go back to the dream that was ebbing away by the second. Steve raised his head off the pillow, staring at the group of children who crowded the end of his bed with shit-eating grins like they had won the lottery.

“Get the heck out!” Steve hissed sharply, eyes going wide, silently telling them all to leave that instant.

The kids clearly didn’t know anything about personal space. The act of knocking on a door or ringing the doorbell was a foreign concept to them. Matter a fact, it was an accurate depiction of what went down yesterday afternoon. And while Steve never minded the kids and their shenanigans, it was the very first time he genuinely wished they had considered minding their own business for his sake.

“Please,” were the last words Steve had whispered to you.

The gap was nearly closed, lips inches away and your eyes fluttering shut letting in the daylight that you were both ready to step into, but that all changed at the clamoring of voices in the distance followed by the creak of the rusty garden gates.

“Holy shit!” They chorused in unison, halting in their tracks seeing you and Steve entangled in each other’s arms in the middle of the pool, closer than you two have ever gotten before.

“Oh, my god!” You shrieked, nearly drifting away from Steve at the shock, trying to keep yourself upright in the deep end.

He seized you, hugging you to his chest where you simultaneously hid your face with its flushed embarrassment in the crook of his neck.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” Steve barked, staring at them with those eyes that told them all that they really messed up big time.

“We—Mrs. Byers said she was over and we wanted to stop by to say hello!” Dustin stuttered, pointing at you yet feeling regretful for letting himself and his friends in with the memorized padlock code.

“Why didn’t you try the front door!” Steve continued to argue, still clearly agitated at their ambush, torn between showing them out of this backyard or sticking there with you.

Mike tilted his head, evidently unbothered by the situation of invading Steve’s personal space, because in his eyes, the babysitter never needed personal space to begin with.

“We did, but you guys didn’t answer and Max didn’t have a bobby pin on her to pick the lock.” He replied dryly, going over to the loungers to make himself comfortable like nothing even happened.

“B-but we can go! We’ll bike back home and tell mom we’ll see you guys tomorrow,” El’s voice piped up, coated with sincere remorse, quickly snatching Mike’s hand to pull him out of the chair.

Sure, the kids totally interrupted what would have been you and Steve’s first kiss, but they didn’t know that. If they were some sort of fortune tellers that would have known, you were sure they wouldn’t have barged in unexpectedly.

You finally pulled yourself away from the hiding spot in Steve’s collar, looking at the kids with the softest eyes, holding your open hand out towards them causing them to stop in their tracks.

“No — you guys don’t have to go!” You started taking a deep breath to tear your eyes away from them to look at Steve, doing your best to communicate in the silence to which he nodded slowly, mouthing ‘sorry’ to you.

He let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to settle his annoyance before opening them and jutting his chin towards the back door.

“Don’t touch anything in the kitchen. That’s all for the bake sale tomorrow. Raid the pantry for all I care, but I’m not cleaning up after you guys!” He shouted and before he could finish the children were racing past the sliding door leaving you both alone only this time graced with their shouts from the inside.

You let out a shaky breath, wincing at how you suddenly became aware of the position you and Steve had been in for quite some time. You met his eyes worriedly, shrinking your shoulders in self consciously.

“I—Did I mess it up?”

His head rocked back and forth without missing a beat, assuring you with a genuine look of sincerity, “Of course not. I meant what I said, you know.”

Steve flashed you a comforting smile, fingers pressing gently into your skin as you relaxed your shoulders.

“We’ll talk about it? Us, I mean… when we’re alone?” He tried hoping you wouldn’t let it end like this.

“Please.” You nodded, running your hands over his shoulder blades, passing each other a hopeful smile for whatever was to come.

Only you and Steve didn’t get any alone time to talk about it.

The teens had spent the afternoon bathing in the sunlight, taking full advantage of Steve’s stocked snack pile and the swimming pool. And by the time you were acting as referee and giggling while they raced across the water, all the initial irritation Steve had felt dissipated — that and the fact that he got to throw Dustin in the water for payback.

But the afternoon had blurred into the night, leaving you and Steve as acting babysitters when they decided they were too tired to bike home and Steve was definitely too tired to drop each of them off. After you all washed yourselves clean of the chlorine and sunscreen, you ordered pizza while Steve set up the new tape in the living room.

It was a rom-com, “Can’t Buy Me Love”, something he thought you both would enjoy with each other, but the kids seemed to like it too — the boys more so tolerating it, preferring to be playing video games in the Wheeler basement, but the girls were thoroughly entertained, you would have been too, if it weren’t for the fatigue dragging your eyelids shut.

You and Steve were practically smushed together on the couch, your legs thrown across his lap and your cheek pressed to his bicep. His hand kneading the skin from your shin to your knee, bringing you closer to sleep despite the loud talking from the kids.

Steve had noticed your quietness, peering down at you and seeing the state you were in — eyes shut as soft snores left your mouth, your hands hugging yourself acting as a blanket.

“Sweetheart,” He tried, wiggling his shoulder a bit to see if you’d wake up, but to no avail you remained glued to his side.

“C’mon,” He carefully positioned one of his arms under your legs while the other cradled your head, “Let’s get you to bed.” He murmured quietly, slowly standing up from the couch with you in his arms.

He turned back, looking at the kids whose attention was on you two now. They weren’t surprised to say the least, considering the position you two were in just a couple of hours ago, but they just wondered what was taking you both so long to finally put a label on it.

“You guys make sure you clean up and turn off the TV when it’s finished. We got an early day tomorrow, alright?”

They nodded, waving and whispering their goodnights as he walked up the stairs and to his bedroom. Using his elbow, he nudged the lights on, padding to his bed and laying you gently on the mattress, before gathering the blankets and pulling them over your shoulders.

You shuffle, instinctively closer to the opposite side of the bed to make space for him as you lifted your arms from beneath the covers, making weak grabby hands at him. He chuckled, taking hold of them and winding his fingers between yours that instantly gave him a feeble squeeze.

“I’ll stay okay?” He promised, letting go and tucking your hands back underneath the covers before he went to switch off the lights and take his spot beside you.

And like second nature you settled into his side and he pulled you in a little closer — sleep came easy and he wanted to savor the feeling and bottle it up for those lonely nights he spent tossing and turning he was sure were long gone by now. All there was left was you and him, and he’d be forever grateful to spend every night in his bed with you, even in the aura of his empty house.

Dustin sauntered over to the windows, seeing as though you and Steve were making no plans to actually get up and get going. He swiped the curtains back, letting in more of the sunlight, smiling to himself as you began moving around under the covers and Steve rubbed at his eyes — surely you both were awake now.

“It’s almost 8 and we’re supposed to be at Hawkins Square at 9.” Dustin crossed his arms over his chest, tapping his foot against the floors like some kind of parental figure, if Steve wasn’t so tired, he’d poke a little fun at how he was sorta taking after him.

But instead he sat up on his elbows, staring at the kid ridiculously, finger pointing towards the door, “Out.”

Max smirked, walking over to her friend and leading him away by tugging on his sleeve and urging the rest of her friends to follow along and leave you two alone.

“Cut him some slack and let him cuddle with his girl for a few more minutes.” She snickered, not missing the sight of Steve’s cheeks flushing.

Dustin gripped the doorframe, fingers slipping weakly as Max gave him another keen tug, pulling the door handle with her as Dustin shouted out quickly.

“Nance said she’s coming over in fifteen to pick up some stuff, so you better be up!”

The door slammed shut, jolting your half awake self fully up this time. Steve let out a deep breath, falling back against the mattress, apologetically whispering out to you as he closed the space once again.

You twisted in the sheets, throwing one of your arms across his back to tug yourself closer into his chest while the other lifted the blankets off your head from where you were hiding.

Despite the rude awakening, you were sure you could fall right back asleep from the warmth radiating off of Steve alone. He had that effect, the ability to be your personal sanctuary even in the midst of the chaos. While the idea of letting you drift back into dreamland was sweet enough as lying there beside you, he couldn’t possibly let you two run late.

“Cupcake,” He whispered, a warm hand moving down to massage your collarbone gently to spur you awake, “we gotta get up.”

Your fingers threaded into the material of his t-shirt, grabbing him tenderly as a sleepy whine knitted with your mumbling poured out, “Ten more minutes?”

His chest rumbled beneath you with a laugh, “Sorry honey, but we can’t. Nancy is dropping by in a bit to pick up some stuff.”

Taking in a deep breath, you took him in. The smell of his laundry detergent and body wash filling your nostrils. The mix of the two and the knowing that Steve was still there beside you, enough to wake your bones up and want to spend the rest of the day with him and your friends.

“Mmmm,” You pulled away, stretching your arms out, yawning for a few seconds as he watched you, until your eyes opened and met his.

“Morning.” You greeted with a tired smile, blinking your eyes again trying to rid them of the sleepiness.

“Hey sweet thing,” He scooted back against his headboard, patting his chest, motioning for you to lay your head there because at the very least he could spare just five more minutes savoring the morning with you.

You got comfortable, looking up at him through your lashes, fingers mindlessly tracing fingers over his shirt, just enjoying the sight that seemed to be a special rarity now. Waking up in Steve’s bed was certainly not something you had grown accustomed to, but it was a nice feeling. Knowing that he had fallen asleep beside you, dreamt along with you, and now lay awake with you in his arms – a special kind of intimacy he saved for you.

“Did I fall asleep?” You didn’t remember coming up to Steve’s bedroom by yourself let alone finishing the movie last night.

He hummed, his fingers a mirror to yours, moving over your shoulders affectionately, “A little less than halfway through the movie, then I carried you up here. The kids crashed in the living room.”

A warm smile spread across your features, always swooned by Steve’s consideration even when at this point you shouldn’t expect anything less of him. Trailing your fingers away from his midsection, you walked them up his collarbones, fingers thumbing the freckles on his chin that you were just admiring yesterday afternoon.

“You’re too sweet to me.” You let your touch stay on him without worry, doing everything besides meeting his eyes, too enamored by the beauty marks you had come to adore.

“I always will be,” His eyes glazed over with affection that not even words could describe.

Yet if there was the time, he would try to do it, to tell you how much he adored you and finally muster up the strength to let all his feelings loose. But despite how tempting that idea was, he knew it wasn’t the right time for it.

The kids would probably burst in at any given moment to get you both up again or worse, Nancy would already be downstairs shouting at the poor use of time given the special day.

“Do you wanna get dibs on the bathroom first?” Steve suggested, hoping it didn’t seem like he was purposefully steering the conversation elsewhere.

You nodded, sitting up to stretch your arms wide with another yawn. “Just to brush my teeth, then you can get ready first. I’ll get the kids fed and the stuff ready for Nance.” You threw the covers off and let your feet hit the wooden floorboards.

He watched you gather your things while he began making his bed, pulling the sheets up and straightening it out.

“You sure? Usually they’re a lot in the morning.”

“Take a break for once, yeah?” You reminded him with a tsk, “Isn’t that what you’ve been telling me?”

He mocked out a laugh, shooing you out the room as you giggled and shut the door behind you.

You took the bathroom first, brushing your teeth and combing your fingers through your hair just to get it to look somewhat put together before you actually had the chance to get ready for the day. As you exited the bathroom, you knocked on his door, signaling his turn before you jogged down the stairs, pleasantly surprised to see it so tidy without any reminder.

The blankets were folded and stacked on one end of the couch, as the other had a pile of pillows. The candy wrappers that littered the coffee table were no longer there and the tape that Steve picked was already back in its case ready to be returned.

You could hear their voices coming from the kitchen, groans and complaints echoing through the house as you rounded the doorway, quietly watching the scene before you with a self-indulgent smile.

Domestic chaos, as each of them called out different pantry items hoping everyone had an idea of what to make — just tired, hungry teenagers craving a proper meal to get them through the day.

“Good morning squirrels,” you chirped, finally making your presence known as you crossed the boundary into the kitchen.

“Morning,” they chorused, relieved looks washing over their faces knowing you’d be there to save their Saturday morning.

“Hungry?” You lovingly ruffled their heads as they made way for you to get into the fridge.

“We’re starving! But Steve said we aren’t allowed to eat any of the stuff for the bake sale, and Dustin and Mike ate all the pizza while we were sleeping.” Lucas shot the pair a glare.

“We did ask you if you wanted a slice.” Mike defended, nudging the curly-headed boy who agreed.

“It was one in the morning, Michael.”

You shook your head, amused at their silly banter that continued while you opened the fridge, scoping out what you could whip up in a limited amount of time but still give them enough energy throughout the busy day.

There were a few eggs left in the carton and more than enough tangerines to go around, plus a half bag of white bread that was going to go stale in a few days. You took the ingredients out, laying them on the counters as you turned to the kids and rubbed your hands together.

“Why don’t I whip something up, huh? You guys can go watch TV in the living room while you wait or you guys can stay and help if you’d like.”

You waited less than a second, fully prepared to see them rush the television, but instead they stood in their places, nodding and waiting for you to give them instructions on what to do. Surely enough, the kids didn’t like the idea of knocking on doors or ringing doorbells, but they did know how to lend a helping hand, making up for it all.

Soon the kitchen was filled with their voices, talking up a storm even in the early morning hours as you stood over the stove, trying to recreate Steve’s famous scrambled eggs all while listening to their teenage updates on life.

Will and Max juiced the remaining tangerines, sticky fingers squeezing it until the pulp gave out and the pitcher was filled nearly to the brim.

Lucas was sharing his own recipe, guiding El step by step as put the slices of bread slathered with butter and a good shaking of cinnamon into the toaster oven, making an easy and delicious cinnamon bread concoction.

Dustin and Mike set the table but of course not without a little more bickering, one wanting to use paper plates to reduce the dishes to be washed and the other wanting to use the ceramics because it wasn’t everyday they got to eat a fancy breakfast, even if it was just scrambled eggs and cinnamon toast.

Rest assured, you ironed away Mike’s worries about the dishwashing task, telling him you’d wash and let them air dry while you and Steve were gone. For the past week you’d been doing dishes nonstop and a few more wouldn’t hurt, plus you were starting to feel some muscle grow after all that scrubbing.

The glasses were filled with ice and juice, plates served with a good helping of eggs and one and a half slices of cinnamon bread. They finally took their seats, a little cramped together, but nonetheless they dug in.

“Eat up.”

You knew that the boys had been close to one another ever since childhood and it wasn’t until middle school that El and Max had entered the picture, but even through all the phases that came with growing up, it warmed your heart to see them still be fully involved with each other’s lives.

El chewed up her food, looked over her shoulder at you before she spoke happily, “The cupcakes look yummy!” she praised, having seen it in the fridge when she chilled the pitcher.

“Steve frosted them! He's a total natural at it if you ask me.” You winked.

The kids looked at you torn between surprise and speculation that he actually did a decent job on them with zero prior experience.

“Well, I bet they taste delicious.” Will said, knowing that there wasn’t anything their babysitter couldn’t do.

“After everything gets set up, I’ll let you guys pick some freebies alright?” You offered, and they all nodded, mumbling out a “thanks,” in advance.

In the meantime, you shuffled around the kitchen, gathering spare brown bags and loading them up with the scones and cookies so Nancy could take them to the event ahead of time. You made sure to jot down the ingredients for each of the goods on index cards just in case any customers were curious or had allergies.

The kids ate with some comfortable chatter while you were busy before Dustin cleared his throat, catching your eyes as you placed the full bags near the doorway.

“So you and Steve, huh?” He smirked, wiggling his brows teasingly while he rested his elbows on the table as if he was getting down to business.

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you brushed past the table and headed for the sink. “I’m so not talking to teenagers about my love life.”

He tsk’ed loudly, “Why not? I give the best advice! When Suzie and I got together, I did all the right things and made her swoon.” He bragged before the red head cut in abruptly.

Max furrowed her brows, turning to him.

“Didn’t she just break up with you because you didn’t call for a week?”

His friends looked at him, eyes being able to see through the facade that Dustin was the most perfect boyfriend out of all of them.

“That doesn’t count! No one would take me to weather top and it’s way too hot to hike up there with everything all by myself.” He argued as everyone else uttered their disagreements and shook their heads.

You snorted, shaking your head at the boy as you dried your hands.

“Well, I’m happy for you and Suz, but I think Steve and I got our thing handled.” You assured him, giving his shoulder a pat.

“Oh, it’s more than handled. We just were waiting for you two to finally make a move on each other.” Mike piped in, chugging the rest of his juice.

Lucas jumped in not long after, huffing dramatically as he spoke, “I mean first the crushing, then the pining, and then the yearning… god you guys took forever!”

El, with her ever so cheery voice, bursted with a wide smile, looking at you kindly. “Well, I’m glad it finally happened. You and Steve are perfect for each other and make an even more perfect couple!”

Perhaps it didn’t hit you until the word fell out of her mouth… couple, and when it did, it hit you like a ton of bricks. The topic alone wasn’t something that you and Steve even got to properly talk about — it was just hanging in the air waiting for you or Steve to snatch and finally discuss.

In the eyes of the teenagers and even the rest of the gang, you and Steve already did the couple-y things. Spending the night at each other’s places, gushing about each other even when the other wasn’t around, shy touches that you suspected no one else could catch, and being around each other every chance you got.

The thoughts alone nearly sucked you in completely, not even aware of how Mike and Dustin argued over the fact that Steve hadn’t even asked you out yet. It was only when the doorbell began ringing through the house that you were suddenly aware of everything.

You shuffled on your feet, choosing to ignore the children and their nonsense as you went to get the door. Swinging it open, you smiled from ear to ear, already engulfing the person on the other side into the biggest hug.

“Nance!”

“Oh, I really needed this!” She exhaled, smiling into your neck where she hugged you just as tight, “Thank you again for helping out.”

“It’s no problem, plus, it wasn’t so much work with Steve helping me. Have you eaten?” You asked, raising your brow.

“No, I’ve been busy around, calling and checking in with the other booths—"

You stopped her, reaching for her wrist.

“How about you come in and get some food before you head off, yeah?”

She smiled thankfully, following your lead as you pulled her inside and closed the door behind her, waiting as she unlaced her shoes and walked with you to the kitchen.

Thankfully, the kids had moved on from their conversation about you and Steve, somehow now talking about the movie they had watched yesterday. You really didn’t want to tell Nancy about it with them all around — eventually you’d tell her, but preferably when they weren’t around to hear all the details.

“Everyone say good morning to Nance! It’s a big day for her and she’s going to do amazing!”

You rubbed her shoulders, kissing her cheek playfully as she laughed and leaned into you.

“C’mon and eat.” Max gestured her over, scooting onto El’s chair as they made more room at the table.

Nance nudged her brother, raising her brow at him. “You didn’t tell me you guys were spending the night here.”

“It wasn’t the plan, but we were too lazy to bike home. I called mom, and she said it was fine.”

Her eyes darted to yours with a questioning look, “They didn’t give you any trouble, right?”

You shook your head, looking around at all of them who half expected you to bring up the little afternoon incident.

“None at all… just making me feel old.” You joked, watching as they all eased up and laughed.

After a while, the kids had finished their helpings, beginning to stack the plates and cups taking it over to the sink before you assured them they all helped enough and you could handle one more load of dishes before you’d be clocking out for the next week.

Nancy hummed, reaching into her purse and finishing out the keys, tossing it over to Max.

“Why don’t you guys load up the car and while you’re at it, load yourselves up too because I need some extra hands.”

Their groans of protests about wanting to ride with you and Steve to the event were ignored as Nancy shooed them off. You flashed them all an encouraging smile, watching as they picked up the bags you prepped and waved goodbye before they were all out the front door.

When you heard it shut, you immediately darted over to Nancy, taking the empty seat beside her as you screeched as quietly as you could and reached for her hand, grasping it with a tight squeeze.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Her eyes went wide, promptly setting down her fork as she jostled your held hands in the air.

Your eyes were pressed shut, cheeks raised with a smile, “Steve and I… we almost kissed!”

She clasped her free hand over her mouth, squealing behind it.

“Oh, my gosh! Tell me everything!” She spoke, flapping her hands with you as you both began to excitedly slap each other.

“Well, we were in the pool and we just kinda admitted our feelings and,” You paused, looking out the doorway checking to see if Steve was coming down, “I—I was about to kiss him but then the kids kinda barged in.”

“Those little shits,” Nance shook her head knowing they were always up to some kind of trouble.

“But it was fine! Everything was fine between us and nothing felt awkward, you know? I mean we slept in the same bed and woke up next to each other, so I’m sure we’re on the same page.”

“Wait, you guys haven’t talked about it since then?”

You stared at her blankly, slowly nodding your head as your lip got caught between your teeth, gnawing on the skin nervously.

“We said we would when we got some time alone, but then we got busy with the kids and then I fell asleep before we could talk about it and then when we woke up this morning we really didn’t have enough time.” You blabbered nervously.

She nodded understandingly – relationship stuff was always tricky especially when it was fresh and you both were figuring it out. The same thing happened with her and Jonathan when they first got together, the anxiousness and worrying about every little thing.

But she knew that you and Steve would figure it out eventually. From the looks of it alone, you both harbored the same feelings even from the very beginning when you thought you’d both just be friends.

“Don’t get too in your head,” she reassured you simply, prompting you to release the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Trust your feelings and go for it.”

You would have hugged her a little long if it weren’t for the horn sounding off from the driveway. The impatient kids debated on letting Max drive them to Hawkins Square if Nancy didn’t wrap it up and hurry. Waving goodbye and watching the car skirt out of the driveway, you found your way back to the kitchen tidying up as you waited for Steve.

Resting against the counters, when you picked up on the footsteps jogging down the stairs before he came through the doorway sporting a pair of medium wash jeans and a classic polo — you were sure he had a hundred colorways and still he made all of them look good.

“Where’d they go?” He frowned, peeking past the back sliding doors to see if they were outside causing a ruckus again.

“Nancy recruited their help.” You waved him over to you.

He came swiftly, letting his arms rest on either side of the counter, caging you in close. There was a pleasant domesticity to it, something Steve wished he could feel every day, whether it was on weekends like this or busy mornings where he didn’t care to know better.

Your eyes moved to the little piece of hair dangling in the middle of his forehead, straying away from the rest. Carefully, you pushed it back, running your finger gently through to make sure it stayed put for the rest of the day.

“That’s better,” you cooed, patting his cheek with a soft tap, feeling his skin rise with laughter.

“Have you eaten yet?” He suspected, looking over at the table that was severely lacking in food.

“Without you?” You lifted your brows, before shaking your head, “Of course not.”

Steve chuckled, stepping back while you shuffled away.

“You made eggs,” He blurted, reaching for the pan that sat on the stove with a few pieces of eggs left.

“They’re not as good as yours.” You complained with a dramatic whine, and Steve grinned, popping a piece of it into his mouth with a hum.

“I’ll have the rest of this and then I’ll make you some, alright?”

You clapped your hands victoriously, as if scrambled eggs made by Steve Harrington was the best prize of them all.

“You’re the best! Mind if I shower real quick?”

“Yeah, go ahead. I left a clean towel on the rack for you.”

You raced up the stairs, hurrying because you didn’t want Steve waiting on you but also you knew you had to get to the town square to finish setting up. Your bag sat on his desk chair, and you rummaged through it, pulling out the floral slip you packed and the extra intimates.

You cranked the water to warm, stepping in and letting the water slide across your body. His products were already akin to your skin, the familiar scent of Steve slipping across the slopes and valleys of your body before you rinsed the suds off.

Getting out of the shower, you quickly patted yourself dry, getting your skin care products on your face before the moisture was lost. You didn’t pay too much attention to your makeup, settling for some concealer to hide a few blemishes and the bags under your eyes. You swept a dusty pink shade over your cheeks and dabbed the excess over your lips for a cohesive look.

You opened the door, letting the fresh air cool your skin, walking across to Steve's room to put everything away and chucking your dirty clothes into the hamper along with his. Checking yourself one more time in the mirror, you pulled your dry hair from the bun, fluffing it at the roots and sleeking them at the ends before you were out and back down the stairs into the kitchen.

A plate of streaming scrambled eggs sat steaming on a fresh plate right beside his. He had already portioned out the remainder of the food for you both, getting rid of the extra dishes that were now cleaned and air drying in the rack.

Steve sensed you, looking over his shoulder as you twiddle your fingers at him from the doorway. He stopped his movements and turned around fully to get a good look at you before stepping forward.

“You look beautiful.” He complimented charmingly, fingers coming down to your shoulder, adjusting the strap of your dress that was slipping.

You looked down at yourself, smoothing out the fabric and then meeting his again.

“So do you… sorry I didn’t say it earlier! I got so caught up.” You laughed faintly, shaking your head.

“Can I be beautiful?” He pondered, head tilting.

“Like an angel.” You promised, bopping his nose with your finger as he chuckled, grabbing at your wrist and tugging you to the table to sit beside him.

The two of you began digging in, and while most of it was cold by then, neither of you cared too much. Breakfast was slowly becoming both of your favorite meals to share with one another, whether it was from Taylor’s or scraps of leftovers.

“Are you excited for today?” He broke the comfortable silence, watching you take a bite out of the eggs.

“Very, but I’m just a teeny bit nervous.” You scrunched your nose, fingers pinching just a tad.

“Care to share?”

“I just hope people like the sweets and I also hope they like the paintings, I mean they’re the ones that never really sold, so I figured I’d give it a shot here and if not they can go to the salvation army—”

“Don’t say that,” Steve interjected with a shake of his head.

“You’re right, maybe I should give them out for free—”

“Not that,” He leaned into you with a grunt, smiling stupidly as he heard you squeal and weakly push against his weight.

“They’re special, each and every single one of them, and if they don’t sell, it’s not your fault. They don’t get how special your art is.” He reasoned, letting up on your shoulder whilst he grabbed ahold of your hand.

Without even thinking, your fingers laced through his, pulses in your fingertips beating off one another while you stared at each other like fools in love. There was that out of the blue kind of fondness again, the one that neither one of you could escape.

“I feel as though you were a poet in your past life.” You ran your thumb against his skin.

“Really?” He curled his lips up — he’s been called an idiot that could barely hold onto a job that was slinging ice cream, yet there you were making him rethink career paths just so he could tell you everything he loved about you.

“Everything you say is so sweet and earnest.”

“Earnest?”

“Heartfelt!” you chirped happily, watching the berry pink hue coat his cheeks bashfully.

You didn’t dare look away, and he didn’t plan on hiding his blush, more than comfortably showing you that it was you who got him like this – only you.

“Always when I’m with you.” He settled softly, bringing your clasped hands to his lips with a chaste kiss.

For a second, it was the closest thing to your heart exploding… then you remembered the almost kiss that was a definite heart stopper.

It happened once every few lifetimes, this kind of feeling Steve couldn’t shake for you. Years ago, he thought that moment slipped from his grasp, yet maybe all of this time — all those failed feats of searching for his other half was meant to glitch because there you were in front of him and all he ever wanted to look at forevermore was you.

The paths that had been crossed and all the stars that aligned caused a cosmic shift where you both finally intertwined and ended up here. You weren’t just a phantom of his imagination that he thought up and longed for. It was really the person sitting in front of him that was all he ever wished for and he swore that this was that once in every lifetime feeling he wasn’t going to let slip.

His quietness wasn’t anything new, you had gotten used to the pleasant silence that came between you and Steve, but you couldn’t ignore the way his eyes were boring into your skin as you finished up your breakfast while his sat half finished.

You set down your fork, reaching for a napkin to wipe over your mouth.

“You feeling okay?” You mumbled, raising your brow toward him, watching his glazed over features come to.

He blinked wildly, nodding his head with a hum, “Oh, yeah! Sorry, I just—just love having you here.” He confessed sheepishly.

You pursed your lips into a smile you couldn’t control and then you were throwing your head back laughing too enamored by his charm.

“I love that you let me stick around this long.” You caught your breath, shaking your head at him ridiculously.

“Stick around forever.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Steve furrowed his brows, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back in the chair wearing a playful smirk.

“Best one I think I’ve ever thought up.”

Maybe it was that new found confidence or maybe it was you being done acting too impaired by fear that you opened your mouth, and went for what was lingering – the one thing you needed reassurance from.

“S-should we talk about…yesterday?” You coughed awkwardly, instantly cringing and regretting, letting it fall out of your mouth the way it did.

“Hey, don’t do that,” He reached for your hand, rubbing his palm over the top of yours, “I’ve been wanting to talk about it, but the kids kinda had to ruin the moment and all.”

“I think their timing is just a little off sometimes.” You said trying to give them the benefit of the doubt.

He laughed shortly, before drawing your body closer to his. Knees knocking and thighs side by side — a skin to skin contact that felt almost reminiscent of yesterday's events, starting back up where you had left off.

“I meant every word I said, you know, about how you could never mess things up between us.”

Still you worried, biting down on your lip, gnawing restlessly on the skin, “But what if I do, like, accidentally?”

“Accidents happen all the time. You just gotta learn how to work through them and see it through.” He shrugged slightly, keeping his tone gentle.

“Are you always going to be this encouraging?” You sighed dramatically, halting your assault on your lip trying to lighten the mood.

“If I say yes, will you finally realize that I’m just as scared as you are about messing things up?”

Your eyes went wide, rocking your head side to side, finger poking into his chest.

“You have nothing to worry about! You’re like… so effortless. You make it look so easy and I’m just, I don’t know,” You shrugged reluctantly, “A mess?”

“You don’t think I’m screaming inside, nervous that I’m looking like a complete idiot in front of you?” He retorted, comically gesturing at himself.

“You could never look like an idiot in front of me!” you gasped, slapping his arm lightly, as you were wide eyed giggling.

“See, just like you could never be a mess to me!” He was half laughing and smiling then, motioning between the two of you.

You closed your eyes, sucking in a deep breath because you knew he was right. Nervousness was never one sided even for someone who was as suave as Steve Harrington.

“I meant that, every part of it. You don’t have to worry about making a fool out of yourself in front of me or being afraid you’re gonna mess anything up.” He spoke.

“If anything… we could give it a try? Mess it up together?” He offered with a dimpled smile, bringing his hand to glide across your cheek holding you to him.

“Together?” Your cheek rose against his palm, a smile too genuine to play off as shy watching him nod.

“Yeah, if you want to take a chance on me,” He murmured, inching his face closer to yours.

“I’d take all of them.” You whispered, your heart pounding as you leaned in.

The moment was too perfect — a cage left undisrupted, the sanctuary it became as it was all you two had ever wanted. Just as your lips were about to touch, of course, the cage was rattled. A loud ring resounding from the living room, causing the both of you to flinch and snap your necks in its direction.

“Goddamnit!” Steve groaned, throwing his head back baffled, as the ringing continued to pitch through the house.

“I think we’re cursed.” You sighed, burying your face behind your hands, shaking your head in between a laugh and a groan.

The wooden chair screeched against the tiles as Steve stood up, running a hand over your shoulder as passed by.

“I told you, we’re not the ones messing it up, it’s everyone else!” He called out.

You couldn’t make out who was on the other side of the phone, but you could hear the faint voice as Steve let out a string of “uh-huh’s,” and “okay’s.” It was a few seconds more of that until Steve said goodbye and placed the phone back on the receiver.

“Who was it?”

“Robin,” He replied with a huff, “Apparently she needs us there ASAP or else she’s gonna lose her mind because Nance is hounding everyone.”

You nodded, rubbing your hands over your knees, “We should go then.”

You stood up, going to gather the plates in a stack, but the gentle pull on your elbow stopped you and forced you to twist right into Steve’s chest, face-to-face breath fanning against each other until he spoke under his breath.

“I’ve been dying to kiss you for a while now,” He admitted, letting his eyes fall from your orbs to your lips back up to your eyes.

“R-really?” You swallowed, licking over your nearly raw skin, only then noticing his dilated pupils drinking you in.

He nodded, before that charming smile came to play with his hunger, “Yeah, and I’m gonna make sure when I do, we don’t need to rush.”

“I’m counting on you.”

Steve of course offered to let you drive, dangling his keys from his finger after you both finished loading up the car but you had turned down his offer, claiming it was his turn to take you out on a spin and who was he to deny you that reward after all the hard work you put into it?

His hand lingered on your knee and your fingers ran across his forearm as he drove through town. Music low and windows down, coasting down the roads that you never thought would lead you to him. Before you knew it, Steve had turned into the center of town, grabbing a free parking space right between Eddie's van and Mrs. Byer’s Ford Pinto. The sun was beaming past the windshield, nearly blinding you and Steve as you quickly lowered the visors and began unbuckling.

The two of you had failed to notice the running figure approaching the car until a knock sounded on the hood prompting you and him to see Robin standing there with her hands on her hips waiting around for you both to hurry.

“It’s gonna be a long day,” Steve exhaled with a weak laugh.

“We’ll get through it.” You tapped his thigh and unlocked the door to get the show on the road.

“Finally!” Robin shouted, skipping over to your side. “Nancy is driving all of us crazy!” She wrapped her arms around you in a hug as you did the same, rocking your bodies back and forth.

“She’s just stressed, Ro. This is a huge deal for her and she probably wants it to be perfect.” You attempted to console her, rubbing a comforting hand over the middle of her back.

“Where is she, anyway?” Steve looked around surprisingly not seeing her near the large cluster of tents and people setting up.

Robin waved her hands in the air absentmindedly, opening the backdoors to help you grab the rest of the things from Steve’s car. “She’s somewhere around here bugging someone else, trust me.”

You and Steve shook your heads, retrieving the rest of the bags of treats while Robin waited around carrying the crate of painting before the three of you walked through the parking lot into the grass area where a bunch of tents were being set up. Nancy was able to get a handful of local businesses like Miss. Driscoll’s Flower Shop and Benny’s Burger to participate — even residents who just wanted to pitch in to help and support their town’s brick and mortar.

Robin jutted her chin out towards the group of pavilions smack dab in the middle of the square patch.

“Your booth is over there.”

She led you to the area that Nancy deliberately set aside for you in order to give you ample space where you wouldn’t feel cramped between the others when it got busier in the day.

Fold out tables were placed towards the front and on the sides of the tent. El and Max smoothing out the pale yellow covers over them as Mike tied off the ends that flooded too long on the ground.

“What’s with the ladder?” You squinted, catching sight of Lucas climbing up with a roll of tarp in his hands while Will and Dustin held steps still from the bottom.

“It’s a surprise.” Robin’s voice leaking with glee that she was trying to suppress all the while the boy unraveled the tarp and hooked it over the screws.

“A surprise?” You furrowed your brows at her, bemused.

You expected some explanation, but all she did was giggle to herself, biting down on her lip in an attempt to keep it a secret for just five more seconds until you looked up and saw it for yourself.

“No way!” Steve exclaimed, laughing infectiously, catching your attention.

Your name was written in whimsical cursive letters, decorated with doodles that the children associated with you: sunshine, hearts, bumble bees, sparkles, and everything in between adorably cute.

“You did this?!” you blurted, setting down the bags with a thud while you lifted a hand to block the glare of the sun in order to get another glimpse of the banner.

“We did! We spent all of last week working on it.” Lucas bursted, hopping down from the ladder to get a good look at it himself.

The kids flocked around you, proudly peering up at their creation that they worked tirelessly on, just finishing it the day before, which is why they had crashed Harrington’s place with such excitement — barely keeping it a secret in time for today… thankfully their unmatched timing had their lips sealed for the perfect reparation gift.

“You guys!” You pouted sweetly, holding your arms out to all of them, prompting them to walk into your embrace.

“We wanted to surprise you with it and it was so hard to keep under wraps, but we knew it would be worth it.” Will smiled at you as you ruffled his hair.

“Are you kidding me?! This is the most amazing thing ever. Thank you guys for doing it.” You said again, making sure to place a peck on their temples.

You spun around, eyeing Steve and pointing at him with an accusatory finger. “Did you know about this?”

He rocked back on his heels, neither confirming nor denying, “I did begin to get a little suspicious as to why they were covered in paint for two weekends in a row.”

“I guess their timing isn’t bad after all… they’re just too sweet to me.” You moped towards Steve, puppy-dog eyes staring at him like they could do no wrong as he took your shoulders into his hands.

“And now you’re wrapped around their pinkies again,” he murmured with a chuckle, slinging his arm around your frame and walking you both into the booth. “C’mon let’s go set up before Nance goes crazy on us next.”

He helped organize all the baked goods, making sure to keep anything with frosting away from direct sunlight and instead on the bed of ice that Jonathan had dropped off before scurrying away with a mutter that Nancy needed him somewhere else.

Max and Dustin got the cookies laid out in a presentable manner as El and Lucas gave them pointers from the front view of the booth. You and Mike worked together, laying out the fresh canvases on the opposite side of the booth, and Mike pitched in to hang a few canvases on the posts of the tent for display.

It all was coming together, and you were in awe looking around at what Nancy was able to put together for her beloved town. For a first time local farmers’ market, it looked as if Hawkins had done this a million times before and you were sure this was just the beginning. You’d be lucky if Nancy asked you to come back and help out again, and even then, there was no chance you would be saying no.

“Can we grab our freebies now?” Dustin tapped your shoulder.

“Pick whatever you guys want! You deserve it for all the help you’ve given, and that cute banner.” You said warmly, smiling as they all went for their pick.

Steve stuck by your side, snickering when the kids struggled to pick what they wanted, as if you wouldn’t let them grab more freebies throughout the day because he knew you most certainly would. In the end, every kid picked something different and shared it with each other so they all got a taste of the delicious creations you had spent days whipping up.

“Hey, you,” Eddie whistled, knocking his fist into the post of the stall to get your attention from where you were folding up all the extra bags that were emptied.

“Eddie! Oh my gosh, I felt like I haven’t seen you in forever.” You walked around the booth, going to greet him with a proper hug.

“That’s because Steve’s been hogging you from all of us.” He teased, giving his friend a wink who rolled his eyes behind you.

“I have not been hogging her,” Steve retorted, resting his hands on his hips, pointing at the outline of the cigarette box in Eddie’s pocket, “It’s not my fault she doesn’t like the smell of smoke.”

You scowled playfully towards Steve, turning your attention back to your friend and rubbing his arm kindly.

“He’s kidding, but you know I’m always concerned about your lungs.” You sulked, cringing at the thought of Eddie getting sick because of those cancer sticks.

“I tried telling him that too, hon, but he’s just as stubborn as his mother.”

An older man rumbled beside him, knocking his shoulders with a punch as Eddie chuckled, and gestured to him. He was as tall as Eddie, sporting a salt and pepper beard — if you squinted hard enough, he had some resemblance to Eddie, except the lack of curly hair.

“That’s my uncle Wayne.” He grinned, waving him over to you.

“Nice to meet you!” You held your arms wide, greeting him with a friendly hug.

“Nice to meet you, honey. My nephew said you got a car that needs to be looked at?” He suspected curiously.

You nodded eagerly, watching as Eddie and Wayne darted their eyes to the parking lot, trying to spot your car through the bustle.

“Well, it’s not here right now. It’s actually back in Roane, but it’s been giving me a little bit of trouble. It’s making some sort of rumbling noise, and I don’t know if it’s the engine or something else.” You said with a slight tilt of your head, hoping you were making sense with your limited knowledge of cars.

“Could be something with the exhaust.” Wayne scratched his head, looking towards his nephew.

Eddie tilted his head, tapping his foot against the grass before there was a snap of his fingers. “Or it might be out of alignment.”

The two men made noises of agreement, still trying to think up what could be wrong despite not having the car there to access for themselves.

Wayne threw his hands down to his sides, looking over at you when he extended a kind offer.

“Why don’t you let us take a look at it? I work part time at the shop and Eddie has a shift there sometime next week. We can work you in then.”

You twiddled your fingers together excitedly. “Oh, that’s perfect. Thank you so much! Here, I’ll give you my number so that you can call me when to come down.”

You motioned for Eddie to follow you into the boot, ripping off a scrap piece of a brown bag and searching for a writing utensil to jot down your number for him. Steve and Wayne had striked up talking, catching up and making jokes about how sorry he was that his tapes were probably way past the return dates because he had no time after working two jobs and barely any sleep to stop by the store.

You scribbled down your phone number, folding it up and watching as Eddie slipped it into his pocket before he took his turn and wrote down the direction of the shop ahead of time.

“You baked all this stuff yourself.” Wayne called out fingers skimming over the packaged cookies and other treats.

Steve stood with a proud smile, nodding his head, “From scratch and all by herself.” Wayne flashing you an impressive nod.

“I really couldn’t have done it without Steve’s help, though.” You nudged him from across the table — Eddie and his uncle not missing the sweetness that lingered through your adoring eyes for Steve.

“Mind if I buy a few things already, or do I gotta wait until this whole thing actually gets started?” Wayne said, already moving to get out his wallet.

You shook your head, hands held out declining the bills he held out to you.

“First dibs on whatever you want, and it’s on me!”

“No, I couldn’t let you give it to me for free.”

“It’s no problem, really. You taking the time to come down here to ask about my car was enough!”

Wayne settled on a baggie of chocolate chip cookies and, after hearing that Steve had frosted the cupcakes, he couldn’t turn down a raspberry hibiscus one. It wasn’t long after his praise that he told you he’d try to stop by to pick up more treats later the day, before he excused himself to go check out the other booths for who needed help to set up.

Everything looked to be coming together — more booths pitching up their tents and getting set up with all their goods and tarps of their own. Coincidentally, Vickie’s lemonade stand was directly across from yours, giving you and Steve a front row view of how giggly she and Robin were as they prepped for opening — you definitely had to catch up with her when you got the chance.

Steve rubbed his hands together, scanning your booth in search of a task to steal from you, but all that was left was to wait until people were allowed in to start shopping. You were straightening out all the treats, doing last-minute touches to make sure everything looked perfect, even creating a small space where the cash would be handled.

Steve lingered beside you, tsking at you being on your feet all day, “Do you need anything? I could get you a chair to sit on. I mean I don’t have one on me right now, but I can find Nancy and ask?”

He peered past the booth, looking around, hoping to spot her or Jonathan running around somewhere.

“I’m okay, Stevie, but thank—”

Eddie clicked his tongue noisily, cutting you off guard, when he sauntered over to his friend with a grin.

“Ah, ever the gentleman you are, but I actually need some help,” He threw his arm over Steve’s shoulders, eliciting a groan, hating how the leather jacket clung to his neck in the heat.

“Nancy put me in charge of helping Miss. Driscoll unload all her flower pots, but I don’t want to do it alone. You know she gets all talkative about her plants, and I need a way out.”

“Why don’t you ask one of the twerps for help?” Steve reasoned toward the kids who looked minutes away from a sugar rush.

“I was thinking of it, but considering she’s been hogging you, I think you owe your friend a hand.” Eddie half joked, glaring at you.

“I have not been hogging him, Eddie!” You gasped, wagging a finger in the air.

“Whatever you say, sugar. Don’t worry, we won’t be long.” Eddie whistled, dragging his friend along with him.

“I’ll be back in a bit!” Steve shouted over his shoulder, heading a few booths down to Miss. Driscoll’s booth.

By noon, the farmers’ market was swarming with more and more people, hoards of families walking around Hawkins Square and taking the time to enjoy all the booths and each other’s company on a rare occasion that wasn’t an angry town hall meeting.

And, of course, like Steve promised he was back in time to ease your nerves before your booth was enveloped with patrons ready to see what you had to offer. He, of course, didn’t come back empty-handed, presenting you with a succulent from Miss Driscoll’s, claiming you needed a real one to blend in with the fakes on your porch.

Before everyone arrived, he volunteered himself to be in charge of handling all the transactions, thanking his experience at Scoops and Family Video for his brisk change counting and his charming customer service. And as you expected, he was effortless at it.

“The mocha walnut loaf? Oh, that one is going to knock your socks off. But have you seen her paintings too? All her, and you won’t find these anywhere else.”

Steve paired his convictions with a wink, counting up the bills while you bagged the items with an amused smile clinging to your features, cheeks reddening from the compliments that the customers praised you with but more so the ones that Steve kept repeating like a motto. All those nerves faded into nothing when he was by your side, spurring you on.

Besides Max and Will, the other kids came and went, helping the other booths and exploring what was offered. Funnily enough, many of the kids’ parents, whom you hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting yet had stopped by to introduce themselves. Apparently, the kids really did yap about you all the time, so it was only right that they all got to meet who the heck their children were so fond of.

Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair was as sweet as ever, even Erica who according to Lucas was a “pain in the butt little sister,” was incredibly kind, sparking up a conversation about the Cherry Pie that Lucas told her was the best he ever had, and how one day she hoped you would be able to bake another so she could try it herself.

Mrs. Wheeler took the time to leave her book club booth, stopping by yours to introduce herself and gift you with a few books about art and recipe booklets she’d thought you’d like. She reminded you of Nancy in many ways — caring and headstrong just to name a few traits.

Ms. Henderson was a spitting image of Dustin — personality and all. She met you with such joy and excitement, practically buying one of every treat and even picking up a canvas that she claimed was going to hang perfectly above the mantle where all of Dustin’s science awards stood.

To your surprise, even Dorothea stopped by, bragging about how Steve had invited her and she could not deny the invitation to catch up with you for a little and get to explore the town that she hadn’t been to in ages. The kids even got the chance to meet her, cheeks being pinched as if their grandmothers were visiting, while you and Steve stifled your laughter as they all tried to converse shortly with her.

The hours ticked by fast, people coming and going, leaving with a creation of yours while they left you with an ever-growing sense of gratitude. In some weird way, Hawkins felt a little bit like home, surrounded by your friends and new company that you could get used to soon enough. By the time the day slowed down and the temperature cranked up it was midafternoon and you were all left waiting for the last call to pack up and get going.

You tossed your hair over your shoulder, fanning yourself lightly as you eyed the kids who settled themselves on the grassy ground, trying to shade themselves from the unrelenting sun.

“You guys doing good over there?” You giggled, bending down to press the back of your hand over their necks.

Max groaned, wiping the sweat off her forehead for the millionth time.

“How much longer until this is over? I think I’m gonna have a heat stroke soon.” She exasperated dramatically, prompting Lucas to fan her with his flapping hands.

“Soon.” Steve chuckled, drumming his fingers against the table tops, setting his sights across the town square where the crowds began to dwindle little by little.

“I’ll get you all lemonade from Vickie’s booth just before we start packing up.” He added before the kids mumbled out their fatigued “thank you’s.”

You stood up straight, settling next to Steve, leaning against the tables and facing opposite of where the sun was beaming down on the front of your booth. For a while there had been no customers, because you had already sold out of all the baked goods, and there were only a few of you and Will’s art pieces left — you thought that maybe some late straggler would take a pick at them before you left.

You and Steve glanced at each other, smiling faintly until his arm slung over your shoulder, pulling you toward him, closing the space.

“Are you feeling hot too?” He wondered, not minding the stickiness of your skin together when he brushed your hair behind your ear.

You opened your mouth ready to assure him that you were not on the brink of a heat stroke but Mike gagged dramatically, causing you both to close your eyes anticipating what smartass remark that would fall from his lips.

“Dude! Right in front of us?” Mike choked, looking at you both with a look of revulsion, “Take your flirting elsewhere!”

“I swear to god, Wheeler.” Steve spat, shaking his head at the boy before shooting you an apologetic look that was quite common nowadays.

You ignored the boy's middle school behavior.

“I’m okay, not too hot or anything. Just a bit warm.” You assured Steve, stroking his back lightly, thanking him for still being so concerned about you.

“Are the coolers out of water already?” Steve lifted his brow, briefly dropping his arm from your body to head over to the icebox that Hopper had dropped off in the middle of the event, filled with ice cold water bottles and Capri-Suns.

“There should be one left,” one of the kids mumbled.

He stuck his hand into the pleasantly freezing water to retrieve it for you, walking back and already having the cap twisted off, holding it out with a grin.

“Here you go.”

“You’re the best.” You whispered, taking it from him as you tipped the bottle back taking a few sips.

“Wow, I can’t believe you still have this one! I remember you made this when we were dating and I told you then it wasn’t good, and it being here now just comes to show how right I was.”

The foreign voice tumbled into the quietness, the kids perking up their heads and faces covered with confusion, while Steve looked rather shocked, instantly whipping his neck to the person speaking.

You felt frozen in fear, nearly choking on the water as you felt your heart sink into the pit of your stomach and your palms began to sweat. The plastic bottle crinkled when your shaky fingers capped it closed. Unsure, you didn’t know whether to turn around and face him or run away and hide.

“And you’re still baking for fun? Don’t tell me you haven’t found a real job yet.” The voice snickered cruelly, causing you to tighten your jaw, eyes pinching shut.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Steve cut in, trying to understand why some stranger would come up to you and say some horrible things unwarranted, but you didn’t allow the man to give him an answer.

“You need to leave.” You seethed, whipping towards him and snatching the canvas away from his hands with enough power to cause him to lose footing for a second.

His face twisted into something evil, so condescending like he didn’t change at all, “What? Can’t take a little joke?”

“Not from you. Now go.” You replied dryly, planting the canvas back down and pointing him out the other way.

“That isn’t any way to treat a paying customer.” He teased with a pout, reaching back for his wallet, as if you would ever take a penny from him.

“I don’t want your money, so you can leave.” You shook your head with the roll of your eyes.

“Why so cold all of a sudden? I just wanted to pop in and say hello. I couldn’t resist when I saw flyers hanging around when I was visiting. How’s rent? Are you short this month because I can give you a few extra—”

An irked puff of air left your mouth, arms crossing over your chest, “What the fuck do you gain from this? Humiliating me? Getting a kick off seeing me happy without you? What is it, Brad?”

Brad. Now Steve had a name and face to put to your ex — punchable in so many ways. But unbeknownst to you all, El and Will immediately ran off, going to find their dad who was acting somewhere wandering before things could escalate into something bigger that none of them wanted to see.

“Happy?” Brad scoffed, laughing in your face, “You call working a stall in the middle of nowhere a source of happiness? What could have made you happy was getting a real job and moving out to the city to make real money.”

You looked at him disappointingly, eyes glaring with storms in them — the same ones he used to cause.

“You’re so pathetic, coming all the way out here to do this to me. Was six years not enough for you? All that time and you still haven’t had enough of making me feel bad.” You accused sharply.

“It’s called a reality check. Some people find it helpful.”

“Well, I don’t need it. I didn’t need it six years ago. I didn’t need it when we broke up, and I don’t need it now.” You retorted, slamming your hands onto the table, getting face to face with him.

Steve immediately extended his arm between you both, but you hadn’t even internalized his protective gesture, too busy staring the man in front of you down for all those years he stole from you and that moment right then that he tried to claim as his.

In the distance, coming closer there were the two kids, jogging ahead of their father, leading him to the commotion that was starting to attract the eyes of strangers and the other booths that stuck around.

“Is there a problem here?”

Hopper announced his presence, approaching the front of your booth, giving Steve a look of confusion seeing as though you were the unlikely bet to be in this position when his kids alerted him of what was going on.

You didn’t budge, ignoring Hopper and instead, standing your ground the way you were too scared to do before when it was behind the walls of your apartment. He didn’t deserve an ounce of your sympathy, let alone civility for the way he tried to slither his way back into your life.

“All those indiscretions of yours that I used to take in good fun? That’s not me anymore and I’m happy, and I don’t need to prove it to you or anyone else.” You sneered, watching the way he rolled his eyes to cover the bruise you had just given to his ego.

“Keep telling yourself that because the next person who has to endure dating you for as long as I did is going to feel sorry for themself when they realize they wasted their time on a train wreck.”

“Shut your mouth!”

Before you could even process what was happening, Steve wedged himself between you both, grabbing your ex by the collar, nearly dragging him across the tables as he shook him harshly. You gasped, stumbling back only to be caught by the hands of the children, springing quickly into action. The tussle didn’t last long, Hopper immediately jerked the two apart, all while a crowd formed, loud chatter and pointed fingers reveling in the sight that you wished was all a bad dream.

It felt all too real, reliving everything that you once put up with, and the air was beginning to getting thicker, harder to breathe through with everyone gawking. Your eyes darted left and right, Robin sprinting out of her booth to see what was going on, and Nancy on the opposite side dropping her clipboard to run over. But before they could even come close, you did what you knew how to do best — run.

Steve stepped back, muttering out a “sorry” towards Hopper, seeing as though this was the last thing that was supposed to go down today. He ran his hands roughly over his face, catching his breath and attempting to calm the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

“Are you alright?” He spoke gently, turning around expecting to be met with you, but you were already gone.

The kids were shaken up, pointing in the opposite direction where your figure was weaving through booths trying to get away.

“Go,” Two voices said behind them, Nancy and Robin nodding him along, before they worked on getting everybody to clear out and give Hop some space to escort your ex out.

You felt stupid hot tears rolling down your cheeks, angry at yourself for letting his words get to you after all this time apart, and even more sorry that Steve and the innocent kids had to see you get so worked up over a loser like him that wasn’t even deserving of time….yet you were there, visibly upset.

There was a pit in your stomach, the one that came back for the first time in ages, the one that you thought you had repressed so much so that it would never show up again. You thought the day he broke it off was it — the last time you’d ever see him or hear his voice, and for a moment that brought you all the closure you needed, but now it was as if the stitches to that wound were becoming undone once again.

Then there was that familiar voice coming to you. Not the one that was poisoned with malice, but his that was always a consolation during times of sadness, only this time, your own anxiety wasn’t the cause of your despair, but in fact another soul who dared to hurt you.

“Sweetheart! Wait up, come on honey, just—just slow down for a second.”

Naturally Steve had come after you and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t expect him to do so, but just didn’t know what you were going to say to him when he’d meet you face to face. How he could look at you and see the person he had been spending most of his time with? If that version of you was even a semblance of someone he could actually be with, or maybe the version he just saw seconds ago was the train wreck he was dodging all this time.

“I—I can’t go back there!” You shouted with tears in your eyes.

You turned into the brick alleyway of the radio shack barricading yourself from being embarrassed even more than you already were. Your hands covered your face, sobbing uncontrollably as you paced back and forth until Steve caught up, gently halting your footsteps and pulling you into his frame.

“Hey, c’mon, I’m right here.” He breathed softly, drawing your hands down just so he could see you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes, pinching them shut as you bit down harshly on your lip trying to silence violent whimpers that risked escaping. His heart ached just looking at you, tear-stained cheeks with rivers continuing their paths all while you did everything but look at him — the way he wanted you to, just so you could see that he was right there with you and there wasn’t a chance he’d leave.

“Please, Steve, you have to find a way for me to get outta here. There must be a back road or something, right? Y-you can bring the car around here and take me home.” You reasoned, eyes darting around nervously, attempting to peer past his figure to think up a great escape.

He hushed you quietly, taking your face into his hands, guiding you slowly, “Sweetheart, breathe…” Your tears didn’t stop, but your staggered breathing shallowed into something gentler, “Yeah, just like that, it’s okay.”

His thumbs ran under your eyes, swiping the traces of tears that kept pouring as you tried to keep your breathing at bay. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, alright?” He assured you sincerely, never letting up on the softness.

“I-I’m stupid,” you whispered, letting him hold your face as you hung your head low letting the teardrops splat onto the concrete beneath you.

“No, you aren’t. Don’t say that.” He scolded lightly, shaking his head in disapproval.

“I am,” you whimpered chin quivering, “I caused a scene and everyone is probably talking about it because I had to make myself the center of attention.“

“You’re so wrong.” He spoke in a tone that felt almost upbeat for the situation at hand, that you really had no choice but to stare up at him in disarray.

He looked over shoulder, then straight back at you with a faint smile on his lips.

“Hop is probably threatening him with jail time. The kids most likely heckled the hell out of him. And if I’m not wrong, Nancy and Robin are searching for you, wanting to make sure you’re okay.”

You sniffled, eyes crinkling as the tears fell, not knowing how he could be so optimistic after what had transpired. You were deeply convinced that there was no plausible way he wasn’t concerned with his own choices, settling to be there with you instead of bolting knowing you were a mess he was in for.

Without missing a beat, he continued thumbing away the tears that came, words spilling out of his mouth.

“You don’t get it do you? How much everyone here adores you, and would do anything for you at a moment’s notice?” He kept that wide-eyed look on his face, trying to get you to see yourself in the light that he did.

“You don’t even live in this town, yet you have everyone dying to be around you because you’re so kind and special.”

You croaked out a cry, swallowing back the lump in your throat, while your head rock back and forth in his cradle, unconvinced that’s how anyone saw you. But he hummed surely, picking your head up as he nodded and stared at you with a sentiment of so forthright written across his face.

He stroked your cheeks, getting impossibly closer to you, his chestnut orbs staring into your sodden ones, “I’m a little bias but you wanna know something else?”

You ran your tongue over your lips, shrugging as your sobs slowly died with each second that passed. “W-What?”

“Every time that you’re away, I feel incomplete. Like I’m missing the one thing I can’t have and I can’t take it.” He told you, feeling your jaw quiver beneath his fingertips.

“Steve…” you whispered, closing your eyes only briefly not wanting to take any of it for granted.

When your eyes met his again, his lips moved with another string of words falling from them.

“It’s you that I want. I want you with every fiber of my being.”

“I want you too,” You sniffled, hands wrapping around his wrist, holding you both there, “God…you—you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to tell you and I’m so sorry it had to happen like this but—”

He smiled, shaking his head interjecting, “Are you gonna stop apologizing and let me kiss you? I’ve been dying to, after all.”

You cracked a laugh, eyes crinkling, and the tears stood still. All that was in front of you was all that you wanted to see forevermore.

“Yeah,” you murmured, draping your arms across his neck, “please.”

There was a promise in his eyes, to give you everything you wanted and more, an unspoken vow to always be yours if you were to be his. Those same eyes flickered over your lips, breath hitching in your chest as your lashes fluttered with your lids shutting. Lips closing the distance until everything felt like it was melting away.

Soft and tender, a gentle invitation granting you both to step into the daylight together. Your lips meshing synchronically, his hands sliding to the back of your head, pulling you closer into him, and without thinking your foot kicked up — the outside world becoming nothing when you both had your own oasis to call home.

Every brush and graze etched upon your skin, your lips making their permanent mark on his, and then it was for certain that your lives couldn’t exist without this feeling again.

Breathlessly, you both pulled away foreheads resting against each other as your starry eyes gleamed into his. Silence filled the air, yet you both knew what it meant—everything you both had been anticipating and hoping for since the beginning.

And who were you both to fight it?

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: i haven't updated this series in forever, but at the same time it feels like i have been working on it since forever (just writer things yenno?) the kiss finally happened!!! i've been dying to write this scene since the beginning of glitch, and im so sorry i had to drag it out six chapters, but all good things come with patience hahaha. thank you all for sticking around this long, and i think i have a few chapters left before i wrap this series up, but glitch will always have a special place in my heart for the sole reason that it came to me naturally and i was able to forge it up for you all, and most importantly you all showed such immense love for it--truly it means the world to me <3 a big thank you to my baby @translatemunson for always being my biggest motivator and bestest proof reader (i love you sm babes!!!) and i love all of you, thank you for sticking around and being the best!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!artist #steve harrington x fem!baker #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x taylor swift #taylor swift x stranger things #steve harrington x glitch reader #steve harrington #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things

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delicatebarness · 4 months

Text

The Avengers Bunch | What the Flerken?! #003

Summary: Bucky finds a cat and brings it back to the compound. But, that's no cat.

Warning: Mentions of Dry Heaving.

Word Count: 795

Series Masterlist | Tips

Requested: Yes - Anon Request

Tags: @somnorvos |

Bucky wasn’t expecting to find anything of importance while trudging through the city, he just wanted a moment of solace in the bustling streets of New York City. But, once again, fate had other plans for the ex-assassin.

A soft whimper caught his attention causing him to halt, his gaze scanning the alley intently. Curiosity arose as he approached, his hand hovering over the hilt of his knife.

Drawing closer, he came to the realization that the figure was… just a cat. Staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes.

“Hey there, little guy,” Bucky murmured as he knelt, extending his hand to the cat. “You lost?”

To his surprise, it didn’t recoil. Instead, the cat leaned into his touch with a faint purr that tugged at his heart. Without a second thought, Bucky scooped the cat up in his arms and headed back to the compound.

The cat nestled comfortably in Bucky’s arms, during their way back to the compound Bucky had decided that the cat would be called ‘Alpine’.

As they arrived back at the compound, Bucky set Alpine down on the floor. Turning his back to fetch a dish, Bucky hoped to establish some authority.

The sound of shattering glass made him whirl around. His heart raced as he witnessed Alpine’s tentacles spring forth. They knocked over vases and sent objects flying across the room.

“What the hell?!” Bucky exclaimed, he rushed to try and contain the chaos.

Bucky was determined to keep the ‘cat’ occupied as the weeks went on. He rummaged through the kitchen cabinets to find the cat food. He opened it and set out a bowl in front of Alpine.

“Here, just don’t…” he trailed off as he watched the ‘cat’ step closer to the bowl.

Alpine sniffed the food before opening her mouth wide. Bucky’s eyes widened as he witnessed the rows of razor-sharp teeth and tentacles devour the whole bowl in an instant.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Bucky muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Stark’s gonna be mad if any more bowls go missing,” a voice said from the kitchen door. Bucky’s gaze snapped to yours. You stood watching the entire exchange, quietly eating a bowl of cereal.

He let out a heavy sigh, “I thought it was a cat,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

Exhausted from the day’s mission, Bucky collapsed onto the couch, he had been hoping for a moment of peace. However, Alpine had other ideas. She leaped onto his lap and began to dry heave.

“On no, no no, not on the couch-” Bucky began, but it was too late as with the final heave, Alpine puked up Sam Wilson. He came up tumbling onto the couch, looking utterly disoriented, and slightly damp.

“What the hell just happened?” Sam groaned, taking in his bearings.

“She thought you were a bird…” your voice trailed off. You stood by the common room door, sipping on your milkshake, an amused look on your face at the scene unfolding.

Bucky shot you a look of frustration. “Do you have nothing better to do?” Bucky asked you.

You grinned, taking another sip. “You’re cute when you’re flushed, Barnes,” you replied, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Erm, hello?” Sam groaned again, trying to sit up.

Bucky woke to find Alpine staring at him, her glowing eyes eerily looking down at him in the darkness. He braced himself for an attack, his body tensing. Yet, Alpine simply curled up next to him, brushing her face against his Vibranium arm.

“You’re not so bad, are you?” He whispered, smiling down at Alpine. She purred as they both relaxed into each other.

Bucky decided to take Alpine into the common areas of the compound, hoping she could showcase the work Bucky had put into her training.

“Just be cool, alright?” He muttered under his breath.

But, he spoke too soon as her tentacles lashed out. She knocked over furniture and caused immediate panic. Tony ducked to avoid a flying lamp, while Natasha vaulted over the couch, dodging a tentacle.

“Control your pet, Barnes” Tony yelled, bringing up a holographic shield from his nanotech.

“I’m trying!” Bucky shouted back as he struggled to reign in the creature.

Despite the chaos Alpine brought into his life, Bucky couldn’t help but feel a growing affection toward her. They sat together by a window, watching the grounds below.

“You’re not so bad, considering the amount of trouble you cause,” he sighed as he gently scratched behind Alpine’s ear.

She purred, nuzzling again his hand. In that quiet moment, they sensed a mutual understanding and accepted each other.

Later, they curled up together on the couch, and Bucky felt at peace. Finding an unlikely friendship, that he never knew he needed.

---

Series Masterlist

#the avengers bunch #the avengers bunch series #bucky barnes #alpine #the avengers #the avengers fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x you

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evervalence · 5 months

Text

what i want to happen in s2 (pls)

charles finds out the cat king's "proposition" and immediately wants to beat the cat king up

niko's revival!!! girlie is not dead pls

edwin getting curious about niko's manga collection, flipping to a random page and having an instant repressed edwardian heart attack from the explicit images. bonus points if niko's like "sorry that made you uncomfortable, you don't have to read it" and edwin's like "no! no! it's quite alright. i'll read it... um... in private" awkward clearing throat and adjusting tie

this little guy just needs to become less repressed okay

uhhh

oh and crystal figuring more about her powers cause hello?? literal mind control??

i'll let you know when i think of more

#dead boy detectives #edwin payne #charles rowland #payneland #painland #crystal palace #cat king #niko sasaki

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icycoldninja · 4 months

Note

Hello darling 🖤 I’d love a Vergil x Fem! Reader who deals with depression and anxiety, cause I do and in times I have an episode I would LOVE for some Vergil snuggles and sweet motivational words. 🥹

Aww I'm so sorry to hear that. Hopefully this makes you feel better. Enjoy. 💜

Sparda boys + V x Reader with depression and anxiety headcannnons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante is experienced with depression, having had several episodes in the past.

-His go-to comfort is a big bottle of whiskey, pizza, and tons of strawberry ice cream, which is what he offers to you when you're feeling down.

-He'll offer assuring words and makes sure to tell you how much he loves you every time you feel sad, usually following up with a long cuddle session.

-Panic attacks are new to him so he's not entirely sure how to respond. However, Dante knows that in times of crisis, what everyone needs is a big, loving hug, which is what he gives you.

-He later does some research and after reading a few articles, decides their advice is shit because nowhere in the reading material is "smothering your loved one with hugs and kisses" present as advice, therefore he will ignore it and stick to his original methods.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil has had his encounters with sadness many times before, but instead of wallowing in self pity like other mortals, he MOTIVATED himself to push through it.

-This is what he does for you, sitting you down on the couch when you're at your lowest and giving you the most stern, serious, yet uplifting lecture you've ever heard in your life.

Instead of encouraging you to feel better, he inspires you to face your fears, confront your sadness head on, and find a reason to be happy; a goal to strive for. If nothing comes to mind, then he will launch into a long list of things you could aim for, all of them pretty valid.

-Your anxiety is different, though, as no amount of confidence-building words will get you through a panic attack.

-Instead, he will awkwardly sit next to you as you shiver, shake and hyperventilate, his arm draped around you and rubbing your back comfortingly until your hysteria passes. He might not know what to say or do, but he's devoted, and he'll stay by your side no matter what.

□ Nero □

-Nero isn't good at comforting anyone for any reason. Not that he doesn't want to, it's just, he's awkward and unable to.

-Seeing you cry or generally being sad hurts his heart and drives (or should we say, MOTIVATES) him to figure out how to console you.

-He ends up just pulling you into his chest and running his hands through your hair, patting your shoulder and kissing your forehead until you calm down.

-When you have your panic attacks (which he tries very hard to keep to a minimum) Nero employs the same strategy. If it works for your sad spirals, then it should work for your panic spirals too.

-Regardless of what specifically is plaguing you, Nero will be at your side in an instant, arms out and ready to embrace you. He's your rock; your eternal shoulder to cry on.

● V ●

-When V sees you crying, he honestly feels like crying with you. This is not an exaggeration; seeing you depressed or distressed in any way makes him feel downcast too.

-He wants to know exactly what's troubling you and what he can do to help you. If you don't want to talk about it or are in no condition to, he won't pressure you, but will stay with you and snuggle you till you calm down.

-He likes to tug you into his lap and run his hands up and down your sides, muttering sweet nothings into your ear, assuring you of how much he loves you.

-Shadow helps too, by climbing into your lap and nuzzling your arms and legs, purring loud enough to produce vibrations.

-When it comes to panic attacks, V is the most prepared. He busts out the William Blake and reads to you, his voice doing wonders to soothe you.

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shaarlslec · 1 year

Text

me and the devil

words: 5958

introduction/part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

warnings/notes: charles leclerc x reader, friends to enemies to lovers type of a thing, crashes, mentions of panic attacks and triggers;

inspired by: Soap&Skin - Me And The Devil, The Neighborhood - Afraid, The Academic - Why Can’t We Be Friends?, lovelytheband - i like the way, The Wombats - Turn , Wallows - Pleaser

masterlist

You crawled through Charles’ skin leaving traces even underneath it, made your ways through his being and rested in the nerves of his spine until you flooded his mind. Charles was aware of that had no ending nowhere soon.

You never knew pressure before this, not like this.

Taking the lead from Charles sickened you to the core in ways you never had expected, although that was what you wanted right from the start. You promised him this, you promised him to yourself. And yet, beating Charles at his own game was not that thrilling as you expected it to be – not when you were falling for him again, thinking now that perhaps that never paused to begin with.

Winning was supposed to taste sweet, and yet each article fueling your feud and pinning you against each other left your mouth sour and your mind clouded.

Reporters delved deep into your past: pictures with you standing close to each other at any events you two attended for years, words from your mouths about each other that even you two forgot making headlines. You knew that reporters would attack you both the next time you were found in the same room, and you were nowhere near the disposition to be questioned about the man who days ago was confessing his cravings on your skin.

Neither was Charles.

That man fought with his entire being to leave you alone that night. Making irrational choices was out of the question for Charles. And yet, oh, you. Charles spent most of his nights thinking about the ways in which your little after midnight encounter could have gone. The taste of your skin, as little as his lips lingered on the shoulder, intoxicated him like some sorts of a hard liquor. Charles repetitively thought about it as the week passed: your lips trembling, your hand on him and everything that happened in between the heavy breaths. It worked like a wake-up call, having his mind filled with the thought of you instead on the idea of winning the race. You crawled through Charles’ skin leaving traces even underneath it, made your ways through his being and rested in the nerves of his spine until you flooded his mind. Charles was aware of that had no ending nowhere soon, mainly after meeting you again for a press conference right before the race weekend when the man’s heart pounded in an instant right when you walked in.

You were gutted when eyes met too, your mind unconsciously searching for Charles’ attention as you stepped in after Arthur. Charles nodded a little “hello” and you waved shortly before taking your seat in between Lewis and Russell – as further away as the seats permitted from Leclerc. And yet, eyes examined his hands multiple times and the way they seemed to not find their place on Charles’ lap, rhythmically patting the armchairs’ surface on a song that was silently playing inside the boy’s mind, anything to distract himself for staring at you back in a room full of people.

All you thought about was the softness of the man’s touch against your back, and all the things he could have touched that night if there were no excuses while Charles was silently wondering if your lips tasted even sweeter than your skin. You shook your head in an instant, dragging attention from Lewis at your right and Charles took a deep breath in as his brother’s touch startled him from behind.

“Are you alright, you look pale.” Lewis then spoke, titling his head into your direction.

You nodded, “Yes, I think so.” You gulped as you directed your looks on him rather than on Charles, “I don’t know if I am ready for this.” You confessed, pointing to the pile of reporters and cameramen getting ready in front of all drivers.

Lewis patted your hand with his for comfort, “Don’t worry child, just give them what they want without telling them what that exactly is.” Hamilton spoke with a warm smile, “You will do just fine.” He assured you, gently stroking the back of your palm.

Charles heard that and saw Lewis touching you, most of him paying attention to your voice rather than Max’s question who was standing next to him or Arthur taking his seat at Charles’ right. Damn, was Charles going to be jealous on any single man who ever so slightly touches your skin in his mere distance? He glimpsed at his little brother for a brief second, wondering if you two came in together from the hotel. It sickened him, Charles had to do something to control such thoughts, such impulses, such nerves.

“You look nervous, are you alright?” His friend nudged, searching for any glimpse of confidence in Charles’ gaze pointed at him now but only managing to find flames and untamed fires.

Charles nodded, “Yes, I just want this to be over as soon as possible.” He spoke, trying to find a somehow relaxed position of his body in the chair as the cameras rolled – muscles tensing up back again right after your name was called.

“Ok, Y/N. We will start with you.” One of the reporters said, and you faced him with the fakest sweet smile you could ever pull while Charles’ jaw locked in anticipation, watching the reporter’s mouth uttering their question, “How does it feel? Taking the lead in the championship for the first time since you’ve joined Formula One?”

You shortly huffed as you awkwardly switched the position in your chair, trying to look as laid-back and unbothered as possible but failing miserably when your glare instinctually went to Charles’ face, “Like a lot of pressure.” You nervously laughed, snatching away from Charles and right back at the report, “But we can manage it, me and the team I mean.” You continued, adjusting your voice with yet another sore cough.

You and Charles were both expecting for the follow-up question to be aimed at him, and yet the reporters moved on to each other driver regarding situations on the grid. You happily smiled sincerely for the very first time during the conference when they asked Arthur and Norris about their on-going competition within the McLaren team, seeing both lightly making fun of each other and cracking jokes for the reporters.

Charles’ smirked too, being extremely proud of his little brother for standing up for himself. Your heart lightened watching them side by side, acknowledging that the punch was long-forgotten faster than Charles’ cut healed. They were brothers, brothers do fight and yet you wanted none of the fights to be about you anymore. Arthur apologized to you for his behavior first thing in the morning after that evening, assuring you that him and Charles are thick as thieves but also that it was your job from then on to push the wake-up call. You were not sure that you were fit of that responsibility, you were not sure if Charles was able to change just because of you and nor that you wanted him to do so.

You quite relaxed for a while in your seat up until Charles’ name was called, and tensed up right after you heard the insanity of the reporter’s question, “Charles,” He began with an amused smiled, “We know how Y/N feels about being first, but how does it feel to have your place stolen by a twenty-something years old girl?” The reporter continued with an amused and mocking tone, and the present drivers pierced him with a sharp and inquiring look while your fists clenched together with your jaw.

You silently sighed in your seat then. Not again, you thought. It was certainly not for the very first time through your career that questions with a misogynistic phase were asked, and yet you thought that after all these years during which you proved yourself worth of a man’s seat they will stop – they haven’t, and you were clearly not in the right state of mind to deal with that too.

Lewis leaned towards you, murmuring the words not even milliseconds after the question was thrown out in the room, “Do you want me to get him out of the room?” He inquired, and you knew for sure that if you were to say yes, Hamilton would have done it, “Just say the word.” The Mercedes driver added, and you could perceptibly see one vein bursting on the man’s forehead.

You patted Lewis’ hand, “No, let him be. It’s Leclerc’s question, after all.” You spoke, exchanging your glare from Hamilton to Charles who was fazed by the question for two seconds, then dismayingly laughed meeting your glare.

“This is the stupidest question I have ever heard in one of these press conferences, and we all know that we’ve heard plenty.” Charles spoke, keeping his eyes on you as he answered the inquiry being unable to look at the reporter’s face feeling the annoyance starting to take a tool on him in front of everybody (again), therefore Charles needed calm in the shape of your face and sound of your mocking chuckles, “A twenty-something years old girl?” Charles wheezed after taking one short breath, charging his mind with you again rather than the foolishness of the question, “Do you call yourself a reporter?” Charles continued, snatching his glare from you on him.

And oh boy, was that a change into his expressions. Charles’ gleaming eyes darkened as he looked straight into the man’s eyes, dominating him with a sharp glare and the switch of his pose into the chair with both of his elbows resting on his knees and a fear-provoking tilt of his head, “You were not even able to learn Y/N age, and you expect either of us to listen yet alone answer your fucking idiotic question.” Charles huffed, repulsed by every second he spent talking into the reporter’s direction, “I will just say that it was not stolen, and that Y/N passing me was nothing but fair and a reflection of her skills. If you were not to be such an ignorant asshole, perchance you could have taken your time to look at her achievements.” Charles ended, putting and emphasis on each word, “I think this is over then, please thank your amazing colleague for cutting this short.” Charles lastly spoke, addressing a short bend of apologetic signature to the other reporters in the room with a slope of his chest.

Everyone in the room went quiet as Leclerc’s spoke, and you found yourself proudly smiling. You knew that most of the male drivers shared the same opinion as Charles, and yet you were not expecting him to be fuming this much. Few drivers laughed, and the rest who were not used to Charles cutting personality and harsh ways of putting words together when angered were still stunned.

The reporters went quiet behind the cameras, and you only hoped for the one that asked the question to feel everyone’s shrill looks on his face and back – to never return in one of those conference rooms, and to never mention your name. You were not expecting an apology, no one ever apologized to you for taking you for granted and as you looked at the disbelief of the man’s face watching Leclerc, you understood that your teammates’ words worked as a personal attack to him and not as a lesson. Some men will never learn, but you were glad that the ones that stood next to you were nothing like that. Your heart jumped quite a bit, Leclerc’ taking your side weeks after declaring war on you on public television was as confusing as it was exhilarating, perfectly describing the highs and lows or your relationship with him.

You took Charles’ example in apologizing to the other reports from leaving after you muttered, “Wait, Charles–” glare fixed on Charles lifting from the seat to leave the room with heavy pressed steps on the floor, “I am coming too.” You added, thoughtlessly lifting from your chair to join your teammate side by side, the press conference wrapping up ahead of its time now, “We are sorry.” You muttered, following Charles.

“No,” Your teammate paused, holding the door wide open for you to pass as he gave one last look to the room, aiming the specific one who Charles managed to frighten already with the hardness of his features, “We are not sorry.” Charles added, door smashing behind the both of you.

“Stop being apologetic when it is not your fault.” Your teammate uttered being visibly still annoyed, walking now side by side with you through the exit of the accommodation, “You have done nothing wrong, and besides –” Charles paused for a bit to fling into your direction one of his cheeky winks that somehow (after all the tries) was still not perfectioned, “Storming out of a press conference was something I wanted to do for a long time.” He added, and you could not help yourself but giggle at the sight of him winking and being sogratified of storming out of the press conference as if you two stormed out from high-school class.

Small moments like these made you be reminiscent of the sweet, darling Charles that you knew and adored. He was there, somewhere, caged in the persona of your so-called arch-nemesis. “Thank you, Leclerc.” You spoke slowing your steps.

Charles looked down at you as he was pacing his steps with yours, “I see we are back at Leclerc.” Charles shortly breathed, changing the subject right after the man saw your eyes softened because Charles knew that made him week and the man has been vulnerable enough with you around, “No need to thank me, really.” Your teammate spoke after adjusting the tone of his voice into a rougher one rather than the one you knew and loved, “I will make sure he never gets to ask questions again and that he –” Charles ranted, but your hand stopped your teammate’s arm from wiggling around him as you caught his wrist in your grip and his mouth shut – his entire body struck by your swift move.

There was no turning back, Charles thought. Your teammate looked down at your almost clasped hands and thought about all the times in which his entire body reacted to such a mere touch. Never from another person, always because of you. There was no turning back, Charles repeated somewhere in the back of his mind. He was hooked on you, and staying away from you was not an option – not anymore.

“Please don’t, they will make up more stories about us if you take further action. Insulting him in front of all those people was enough.” You added, fingers running down the man’s hand to gently take it into yours just for your thumb to rub the back of it, “Charles,” You paused, look up on his face seeing him all flustered due to your touch, “I am very grateful for you standing up for me in there, but I cannot just get my hopes high every single time you take my side, and touch me, and say that you want me just for them to be destroyed by your threats the following day. Therefore, you must decide. Stay by my side or not, reach my high hopes or not.”

That was what you should’ve said to Charles, and yet you were afraid of doing do frightened by the idea of pushing him away, scared even by the thought of him not daring not touch you again for as little as that was. You were not ready to lose even that, you were not ready to lose what was not even yours to begin with, Charles choosing the second option was not an option. Instead, you looked at the man’s out of this world soft emerald eyes and faintingly spoke, “Good luck this weekend, mate.” patting Charles’ back of the hand with yours, “You will need your all, we are at my home race.” You cockily spoke, steps ahead of Charles now as you were walking backwards to sustain the man’s glare until the exit.

Charles’ corners of the mouth lifted in a smile, “No worries, I will not go easy on you just because it is your home race.”

You clicked your tongue, “I never want you to go easy on me.” You spoke, and for a split of a moment both of you were grinning alike, “On track, I mean.” You clarified, having Charles shake his head for a little to dust off the thoughts that were wildly going through the man’s head, the same that were on yours too.

Charles kept his word, getting the pole-position right the next day while you were on P2 right in front of your home crowd. Frustrating? Just a little bit. Exciting? A lot. Charles deserved that pole without any doubt nor question, and you were going to give your all during race day to snatch P1 from him. That was what you told the interviewers too after qualifying, Charles staying behind just to hear your post-qualifying enthusiasm and to make sure that no one was going to bother you with more stupid questions. He stood meters away from you with both arms crossed at his chest, waiting for you to finish your short interview. You amusingly gave him quite a few looks, was he your own personal guard now?

“Is passing Charles on the list of your goals tomorrow?” The interviewer asked you, perceptibly confused as well by Charles’ proximity as their glare switched from you to him, “People are wondering if there is a change into the nature of your relationship.” They added with an inquiring look and very much curious tone, watching both you and Charles exchanging one exhausted glare. This again.

Your eyebrows twitched at the same time, the question came in reference to the events of yesterday when you two stormed out together and left all of them hanging in there, “People should be minding their own business, and leave ours alone.” You replied with a smile, seeing Charles’ face lightening up with the corner of your eye, “Also, who does not want to win their home race? So yes, my goal is passing Charles tomorrow, passing anyone really who stands in the way of bringing home a race win.” You ironically answered, and nothing could have made Charles prouder of you that two ironic and sassy answers coming one right after each other instead of answering all sweet and tamed. You were a force, everyone around you should be able to feel that – not just him.

“Were you waiting for me?” You asked Charles, two steps away from his own now.

He nodded, “Yes, wanted to make sure that no more stupid questions are asked.”

You snorted with an amused huff, “Excuses,” You spoke, walking together to the garage arms almost touching, “You know that I can take care of myself.” You commented, eyes on Charles now, who was paying attention to your steps rather than you, “Just say you wanted to walk together with me to the garage. Let’s give the people what they want, without telling them too much about it.” You slyly spoke, casually slipping your arm around Charles’ as bodies tightened to each other feeling their heat, sensing their warmth, tensioning their longings and your breaths suddenly heavy.

Charles said nothing but just playfully chuckled as the man properly offered you his arm to grab for everyone else to witness. As you were walking side by side with him, arm in arm, your fingers gently cupping his bicep, Charles was thinking that perhaps him making excuses was the truth from the beginning. That the one thing Charles craved was your company, even if that meant only walking side by side. In that moment, your teammate thought about what you told him last week. You need to stop following me in such fashion – people might think that you are in love with me or something. Charles shook his head, thinking about the fact that maybe it was the right moment to acknowledge that too instead of playing it cool for the sake of protecting his own already messed-up brain and even messed-up heart.

“What?” You asked Charles meters away from the garage, seeing him looking down at you with some sorts of a puppy eyes that you have not seen in a while instead of the harsh glares and untamed looks.

Confess it, confess it. Charles’ mind was spinning. We have a race tomorrow, we need to focus on that, “Nothing.” Your teammate simply lied, letting go of your arm once you reached the entrance, “I was thinking how to stay ahead of you tomorrow, you seem very determined to win.” Charles lied with a nifty grin; your teammate has not given a thought about the race at all since the taste of your skin impregned on the top of his lips.

“I am, and I will.” You spoke, one step taken in front of him as you lifted on the tips of your feet matching the man’s high, so your eyes could sustain each other from equal ground.

“I would like to see you try.” Leclerc intoned in a low voice, his eyes walking slowly from your eyes to your lips, wondering how many times he must envisage the taste of it before indulging in it.

Charles gulped, and so did you. He was the one to take a step back, but not because he wanted to do so, but because Fred’s palm patted his back at the same time as the other arm wrapped around your neck to drag the both of you inside, “Disciplinary meeting now.” Fred spoke, and both you and Charles rolled your eyes at the same time, “Don’t roll your eyes at me, you caused this – both.” Your team principal spoke, shuddering his head off at both of you and Leclerc as if you were caught sharing a cigarette in the school’s backyard.

You went to sleep the night before the race thinking about the win. It was your home race; you were leading the championship and you had never won here before. Teasing was your plan, getting close enough to him just to increase the nervousness level of the man until he fails in keeping his concentration and makes a mistake was your drill. You knew how Leclerc drove, and he knew how to keep you in the back. You had very similar driving styles, you could easily anticipate each other’s next move. That is why everyone loved to see you battling on track, to see you so close wheel to wheel you can get and who is the one to give up first. The team warned you during the afternoon to not perform any risking racing, but you and Charles had become parts of the same coin. So no, you were not going to listen.

You never knew that your heart could beat this fast watching the red lights going off one by one. You needed to calm down, you needed to be in control of all of this. Come on, Y/N, we can do this. Leclerc blocked you for the first two laps, there was no way he was going to let you pass and you knew that. That was what helped the most, him pushing you to strive for being the best.

Charles had developed a system since the beginning of the season when it came to racing against you. He had always thought that the person inside the car behind or ahead him was not you, but rather somebody else he had no relationship with. Once he got in the car, Charles’ memories about you outside of the track were whipped for just the right amount of time it took for him to win. And yet, now – there was something going on. The focus was not there anymore, the reflexes’ speed was cut short. You were all over his mind, like you have been for days. You, and your lips, and your skin, and your scent – everything about you. That was exactly the reason why Charles wanted to stay away, because he knew that once you start crawling underneath his skin, there was no going back.

Your teammate managed to keep his usual cool almost half of the race, few laps after the first pitstop change. You were kept on track, leading the race now and Leclerc was on his way to dethrone you of P1. No willing to give it up just yet, you went against the strategy this time thinking that you know better (rightfully so, they fucked-up in the past quite a few times). They called you to the pits few laps after Leclerc, and yet you decided to push harder on the softs and that proved to be the wrong choice you were able to make in the spur of the moment. You figured that out too late, feeling the car underneath you not listening to your turns and choice of speed, feeling like you were losing control.

Leclerc was informed that you were still in P1, but that you were struggling with the pace as the softs were almost gone. Charles thought about his own stubbornness, and how that reflected into your own style of driving. Oh, no, no, please don’t. Charles’ begging came a little bit too late, as you pressed the break too soon in a tight corner that ended your race right then and there due to your stubbornness and foolish mistake.

You went out of the track in under a millisecond and the front of your car violently smashed the face. It was a light accident; you were conscious the whole time. That might have been even worse: to be aware of the spin, the crash and the impact while having to deal with the immediate effect of your own stupidity.

Red flag was implied right away (huge chunks of your car flying to the track), and marshals hurried to your car, but you were too shocked to get out of your car on your own. Thus, you stood there with your hands into your lap processing what just happened, what you just had done. Dangerous or not, you were not able to move an inch.

Arms went around your armpits seconds later, pulling you out of the car with ease. Your heart was pounding, your head was spinning, and your lungs blocked. It was a panic attack, and what confused you even more was that you were not able to understand what triggered it: you had accidents before, you have been into larger crashes than this – why were you left out of your breathing now?

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” A voice brought you back to reality, “It’s me.” They spoke, and that was for the very first time where you could grasp something out of the reality rather than was what going on into your chest and mind, “Take my hand, we need to get you away from the car now.” The voice spoke in a demanding tone, far different from the softness of the touch that you recognized right away as their hands guided yours out of the car and back with your feet on the ground.

“Oh my god,” You breathlessly spoke, “Charles—” You paused, your lungs opening for the first time in whole minutes, and for you to breath normally from the moment of pressing that bloody brake, “I thought you were a marshal.” You confusedly stated, having no other idea what to say as Charles was dragging you away from the car.

“They are on their way; do you need an ambulance?” Charles assured you, tightening his grip around your forearm to sustain your body weight leaned on him.

You declined with a nod, deciding to walk on your own as you became even more aware of your surroundings. People shouting, clapping, and most of them silent as they were not able to comprehend your teammate’s action in real time. Charles himself was not able to comprehend his actions. He acted on his emotions rather than his judgment. Charles saw the crash from behind, and his mind drowned in the worst-case scenarios as you were not moving from your seat.

Drivers in between the two of you slowed down their cars, and yet Charles knew that he had to stop – that was exactly what he did. Leaving the car right on track and running to you in a heartbeat, being the first one to arrive close to the scene. Charles saw your chest lifting in quick and heavy breath while your limbs were not moving, understanding what was going on. He needed to play it safe, he needed not to startle you – and he needed to act fast.

Charles heart broke at the sight of you, and the sound of your cracked voice. He knew what was going through your mind, and he would have wished to take all your thoughts and bottle them for you. It was impossible to do so tough, and you had to deal with the consequences of your own mistakes. Those thoughts came later into your mind, eating you up alive, after Charles made sure that you were safe and bought for a quick check-up. You fucked up, greatly so. Charles was not allowed to join the restart of the race after the car was purposely left empty on the track, and now your home race has been left with no one from your team to win.

You gulped as you went to the garage, Fred and Charles chatting, your teammate noticing you right away although they were engaged in a heated-up conversation about how wrong was FIA for not letting him race after the restart, “I see their point,” Charles stated with one hand going through his already messed-up hair, “I just do—” He stopped, eyes meeting yours.

“I am fine.” You assured him right away, putting your palm up in the air to delimit the distance between you and a very hasty Charles coming towards you, “Thank you, but I am fine.” You nudged, neither you nor Charles believing the last words, “Let no one in my room until the end of the race.” You demanded; eyes still fixed on Charles, but words directed to your manager who was worryingly staring at you.

“Y/N, we need to –” Fred spoke, but was interrupted by the back of Charles’ hand on his chest as the two men witnessed you leaving the garage in detriment of your empty room where no one could ask you questions about your mistakes.

“Let her be for a moment, you can talk with her about this later – now it is not the moment.” Charles added, and immediately followed you out of the garage.

Yes, Charles knew that you wanted to be alone after such a missed home race, but he also knew that you needed a friend, and he was not going to ask somebody else to do it now. So, after you violently smashed your door and let all the pressure on your shoulder pressed down your body crashing on the little sofa in the corner of your mother-home where all you wanted was to bawl your eyes out, you heard Charles’ voice softly resounding at the other side of the door along with wary little knocks.

“It’s me, Y/N.”

It’s him, it’s him, of course it’s him. Your heart jumped, you still had to process the thought of Charles Leclerc deliberately messing up one of his races to help you, to make sure that you were safe, to get you out of the dark. And yet, that only added to your guilt and resentment – you were not ready to talk about that with him nor the team, you were not ready to admit that what you did was wrong, and that you were slowly yet surely getting eaten up alive by your own greediness.

“Please don’t, Charles.” You spoke, lifting from the sofa and going back closer to the door through which you exchanged words with him having to speak quite loudly for the other to hear the voice, “I am extremely grateful for what you did, but I am not in the mood for talking now – like I told Fred, I will be explaining my—”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Charles paused with a heavy heart, “I just came to let you know that I am aware of how that feels, and that if you need to—” He paused again, but not because he was unable to find the perfect words, but because the door in front of him clicked and he found your teary eyes behind it as you cracked open a little.

“Why did you get out of the car, Charles? And why are you here now?” You questioned him through the crack, peering his look with yours, “I want answers, not excuses.” You continued, fully opening the door now for him to step in.

Charles heavy breathed underneath your glare; because I am in love with you. Your teammate continued to stare at you without an answer, “I was worried, you were not moving in or from the car and I thought that something really bad was about to happen to you and I couldn’t just stand by and I—” Charles finally replied in a mouthful, feeling his stomach-turning upside down for telling just half-truth, thinking that he might combust if he tells you the whole thing now. I was worried because I am in love with you, intensely and irremediably so.

You heard the nervousness into the man’s tone, “I am incredibly sorry that they didn’t allow you to continue.” You added, body leaning against the doorframe close to Charles who halfway stepped into the room.

Charles shook his head, one of his palms went on your cheeks to wipe the dried tears in the corners of your eyes that you were not even able to feel up until the feverishness of Charles’ skin collapsed into yours, “I told you before, stop being apologetic when it is not your fault.” He added, closing the door behind him as he pushed you into the room as well with his palm still covering half of your face while his lips leaned towards yours in the movement of your bodies, “I choose to leave the car – the responsibility is mine.” Charles nudged, leaning his body on the now closed door and departing his palm from your face, “Do you want to not talk about this anymore and get out of here?” Charles inquired, explaining the plan right after the very first sign of confusion sprung on your face, eyebrows shuddering up, “We are sneaking in while the race is still on, no one will notice us leaving if we play our cards right.”

You wanted to decline the offer at first, and yet you felt heavily suffocated by the thin walls that caged you, “And do what?” You questioned, Charles pointing to the keys of your car that stood on the table behind you.

“It’s your home race, after all. Let’s keep the festivities going.” He then smirked, picking them up as he leaned over your shoulder, “I am driving, tough.” Charles winked; words spoken close enough to your ear for your spine to shiver viciously.

You followed Charles out of the garage, taking careful turns for people to not stop you from your little escapade plan, and that is when you figured out that you would follow that man everywhere with all your trust.

You were not even remotely being enemies, just two frightened high school acting like pricks too frightened to admit what was really going on: that you would risk your races, championships, and everything in between just to make sure that the other one is alright.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc blurb #f1 fandom #f1 fiction #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x female reader

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tomtenadia · 2 months

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Check my heart - ch 2

Hello all, So here we are with a new chapter

cw: anxiety, panic attacks

Rowan was sitting in his bed with Maya at his side. His daughter had been talking almost all evening about Miss G, her ice skating teacher. Apparently his daughter idolised her. But one thing attracted his attention. Maya had told him that she had been a figure skater and in that instant, Elide’s comment popped in his head.

“Dada, can you see her on the computer like grampa does for hockey?”

“Do you want to watch her skate?”

His daughter’s smile was the only answer he needed so he entered her name on Google and the first video that came up read Aelin Galathynius’s career ending jump. He paused. His hand slightly shaking. He took a deep breath and skipped to another video.

She was wearing an orange outfit that resembled a flame and a kingsflame in her hair. The video started with her in the middle of the rink, ready for the music to start. And when she began to dance he was mesmerised. The little knowledge of the jumps he had acquired it from Lyria but now that information was a jumble in his brain. He remembered that Lyria was trying to land what was called a triple axel and he knew that was a hard jump. His eyes followed Aelin on the dance of the ice and he knew he had read her right from the start. According to the commentator Aelin had been a rising star in the figure skating world.

“Dada she is so pretty.”

Rowan was hooked. Aelin was as graceful on the ice as she was fierce with anything else. He watched her glide, jump, twist. And yes, his daughter was right. Aelin was pretty. More than that she was a ray of sunshine. Now he really felt like a brute.

“Dad?”

“Yes baby, she is.”

“Dada?”

“Yes my love?”

She looked up at him with hopeful eyes “I want to skate like her.”

“Do you want to learn figure skating?”

“Yes.”

His heart sank. He was not going to let what happened with Lyria affect his daughter’s decisions.

“Well, we can ask miss G next time and see what she thinks?”

Maya squealed happily and hugged him “dad you are the best.”

He pulled his daughter close to him and hugged her “thanks muffin. Want to watch another video?”

Maya fell asleep halfway through the fifth video. His daughter always had high levels of energy and sometimes it was hard to put her to bed, but since she started skating lessons she had been falling asleep much more easily. Gently, he tucked her under the covers at his side and while he searched for the video he had skipped, his hand was firmly on her head caressing it gently.

With apprehension filling him, he started the video. It was a world championship and according to the commentator she was among the favourites with a program with a high coefficient. They had explained that she had finished the short program in the lead and now it was the turn of the long program. The music eventually started and Aelin began her routine. He followed her through the motions and listened to the commentators explaining the moves. She then reached the end of the rink and veered back, her leg briefly up for balance and then she was in the air spinning on herself in what the man on tv called a triple axel. Rowan stopped the video and went back to watch it again. She spun, quickly, her hand tight against her chest and then she landed, extending a leg behind her. The commentators screamed at a perfectly executed jump, explaining the difficulty of landing such jump. They went wild over it. He watched the jump one more time. It was stunning. The way she controlled her body, he was almost jealous of it. Eventually he kept watching and he saw her preparing for another jump. She was up in the air in a triple Lutz and then the crash. Aelin’s foot missed the landing and a moment later she was on the ice, holding her leg. Blood seeping from the other where the blade had cut her during the fall. The video stopped and he realised his heart was racing. That looked like a bad injury, the knee was likely gone. He quickly opened the browser and tried to find some more info. Aelin had destroyed her ACL and meniscus during the fall, needing surgery and also broke her ankle. Her career had been over in a matter of seconds.

He closed the computer and turned towards Maya who was sound asleep. How did she made it back on the ice? How could she face it again after such a horrible accident? He was in awe and all of a sudden he wanted to try and have a proper conversation with her because they had in common far more than he expected.

The following morning Aelin was back on the ice quite early and loved the peace of the rink. The ice was pristine after the Zamboni had very likely cleaned it the night before. It was bliss. Aelin sat on the bench and tied her skates and once ready she went through her routine to get her muscles ready. Then she stepped on the ice and for a while she just coasted, skating around the rink, a gentle music playing over the sound system that she was allowed to use. Aelin attempted a few easy jumps. She executed a simple single Salchow and felt good at not feeling any pain in her knee. The music picked up and Aelin added a few more jumps without pushing too much. Then she gathered her courage and prepared for a simple single axel, something that once she could do with her eyes closed. Now… it terrified her.

The jump and then the pain of her arse on the ice. A cry of frustration left her lips.

“Are you okay?” Said a male voice not far from her.

She looked up and saw Whitethorn on the ice, skating towards her with worry. He offered his hand but she slapped it away “I do not need your help.”

Rowan tilted his head in a silent question.

“You happy? I fall too.” She snapped pulling herself up.

He ignored her “Mind if I train too?”

She folded her arms at her chest in challenge “why you are not at camp with the team? Why are you constantly interrupting me?”

“Don’t worry princess, I will only take a corner of the rink. There’s plenty of space for you and your ego.” He snarled back matching her tone.

Aelin screamed in frustration “I hate you hockey players. You think the rink is only yours and us regular skaters need to squeeze training when you oafs decides we are worthy of the ice.”

“Listen princess, you can still do your pretty jumps, I will not bother you.”

“Stop calling me princess,” she shouted back in anger.

Rowan scoffed and skated away ignoring her outburst. She saw him go behind the gate and she hoped he was leaving, but instead he came back out dragging a net on one hand and the stick in the other. Ignoring her, he disappeared at the very far end of the rink, a part that she definitely would not use and she watched as he stood at a distance from the net and stared at it immobile.

She had not listened to Elide and had not gone looking for more information about him. She was not interested.

But in the distance, as she stared at him she wondered: why was he not with the rest of the team? Why was he training alone? Rowan started shooting the puck at the empty net. He went through the motions of skating around and then shoot from different angles. He never missed. Fair enough it was easy with an empty net, but she studied his skills with interest.

Curiosity won and she skated towards him rising her hands in a gesture of peace.

He shoot the puck and then turned to her, removing his helmet “what?”

“Too easy with an empty net.”

“Am I criticising your training routine? No.”

Aelin cursed under her breath “I was just curious about the training.”

Rowan tilted his head to the side in a silent question. He then passed her his stick “get here.” Aelin obliged and moved closer noticing how Rowan kept his touches to a minimum. She grabbed the stick and swung it backwards and then tried to hit the puck. The stick went flying and the puck remained untouched.

Rowan roared with laughter and skated away to recover the hockey stick.

“Sorry.”

“Not easy,” he stood behind her and showed her the motions, his body flushed against hers, his hand covering hers on the handle. Then he positioned the blade against the puck and shoot, sending it straight into the net in a shorthanded shot.

Rowan then recovered the puck and started skating around the rink moving as if he had defensemen blocking his path and then shoot again into the net.

“Okay, stop bragging.”

Aelin had been amazed by the raw power in his body as he skated around the rink and controlled the puck with incredible control.

“Imagine doing this when you have a wall of men in front of you, or someone elbowing you or worse getting ready to check you against the boards.”

Aelin stared at him “Check?”

“Cross check is quite common,” he started explaining “It’s when a players holds the shaft of the stick with both hands and there’s no contact with the ice and shove it against a player.” He mimicked the motion against her body “depending on the severity it could lead to a two minutes penalty to something worse.”

“You have some weird rules.”

Rowan roared with laughter “oh, this is just the beginning. And I am sure that figure skating has some confusing rules too.”

She looked at him stunned. Did he know?

He must have noticed the worry in her face “Another time, princess.” And she was grateful that he had not enquired further.

“Come on, try.” He passed her the stick again and placed the puck on the ice. Aelin moved and tried to control the puck but as she pushed it just glided away so she chased it trying to hook it with the stick. Rowan followed her as they crossed the rink.

“This thing is impossible to control, damn it.”

Rowan took the stick back and showed her slowly.

Aelin tried again and failed “This is nonsense.”

“Not really, it’s just part of the basics that you learn with training,” he smiled “I am sure that I would embarrass myself at attempting a toe loop jump for example.”

Aelin looked at him in surprise “and what do you know about a toe loop?”

“I know things.”

“Do you?”

She skated away, performed a few turns and then she was in the air and back down.

“Now who’s bragging?”

Rowan shook his legs and then started to skate trying to imitate the circle motions she did. He then skated backwards and tried to jump, lifting the leg as she did and then trying to spin just like Aelin.

He landed on his arse and this time it was Aelin laughing at him and Rowan joined her in.

“It’s quite amusing, seeing a brute like you trying figure skating.”

Rowan pouted “hey, men figure skate too.”

“I know, but you really have no grace.”

Rowan flipped his hair “Next time I will try and dance to the net and pull a flip while scoring.”

Aelin giggled “please, and don’t forget your spandex.”

Their banter was interrupted by voices in the background. Aelin turned and saw two of her seniors entering the ice “I let you to your classes.” Rowan grabbed the net and was about to leave but Aelin stopped him.

“You might not be too bad.”

“See you tomorrow, princess.” And with a wink he left her.

That night, in the privacy of her house Aelin caved.

The morning with Rowan had been fun, for as much as it bothered her to admit that a hockey player might be fun to be around. It had been hilarious to watch that huge man trying to pull a toe loop jump.

So that night she decided to listen to Elide, grabbed her laptop and searched for Rowan Whitethorn.

Right at the top of her search results there was an article about an accident happened in a game the previous season. Aelin opened the article and read the details of the event. She did try to imagine it but she was confused and the only thing she managed to barely grasp was the concept of cross check that Rowan had explained her earlier on. So she decided to click the video and watched the clip. Thankfully, they had names on the jerseys because otherwise she had no way to recognise him. The game was fast and could not follow the puck. She heard the screams of the fans and then a commotion. Aelin paused the video and went back, realising that she had been concentrating on the wrong spot. Concentrating on Rowan’s jersey she followed the action and saw it happen. Rowan had the puck and was skating towards the net, as he followed the boards behind the net, a man smashed him against the boards. The sound of his body crashing hard against the boards made her shiver in fear. She saw his body slump and his face bloody. Lorcan, the only man she knew aside from Aedion, went straight for the attacker and the fist fight began as gloves were thrown on the ice in challenge. She spotted her cousin with the team near Rowan. He was not moving and Aelin feared. Two linesmen were busy trying to pull Lorcan and the other guy aside while the referee was with Rowan. And when a stretcher finally entered the rink the video cut.

Aelin rewatched the video and could not believe the brutality of the man called Rolfe. She went back to the article, trying to associate the written explanation to the video. What turned the penalty into a major was that Rowan had been hit from behind causing him to go head first. A further hit had happened once he hit the ice. Rowan had spent time in the hospital with a TBI and was now still on leave until his team came back from summer camp.

All of a sudden all the animosity had gone. She knew how he felt. She knew the hard road to recovery after an injury.

And when she went to bed that night she felt that for once she would not mind sharing the rink with him.

taglist

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @susumaus98 @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127 @mariaofdoranelle @yashiw @renxzs @aelin-gods-killer

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fanfic #aelin x rowan #rowanwhitethorn #throne of glass fanfiction #hockey au

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k-s-morgan · 2 months

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Hello! I sincerely hope everything goes well for you in the future. The reason I am sending this ask is that I am taking a class in Stanford called “Genocide and Humanitarian Intervention” currently, and while we haven’t gotten to the part in the course where we talk about current events, my professor said that there is a very clear case to be made that Russia is committing genocide against Ukraine. I was wondering if, as a Ukrainian, you had anything you wanted/would be willing to add. I know you talk about your experiences in Ukraine quite frequently, but I don’t remember if you ever touched on this specific topic. Sorry if I am making you repeat yourself or if this is formatted or worded poorly.

Hi! Thank you for your ask, I'm more than willing to share my thoughts!

Of course, there are large things. Russia is committing genocide by murdering Ukrainian men, women, and children (we have so many new cemeteries now), stealing and burning our land, bombing historical sights and churches, attacking fields with crops, factories, etc. It's eliminating our language and culture in the placed it occupies, and it's been doing it for decades. Most ex-Soviet countries have Russian as their pre-dominant language. Not because they lack their own language, but because USSR spent a lot of effort on turning everyone Russian and making people forget where they come from. Ukraine is not an exception, although it's incredibly resilient, especially now, after the full-scale war.

But Russia is also committing genocide in smaller ways. It bombs our critical infrastructure. We have a severe lack of electricity as a result. What does it entail? Much more than people normally think. As an example, right now, it's over 40 degrees Celsius outside. When there is no electricity, the elevators and air conditioners don't work. Just recently, I was taking a walk, and I saw an old man sitting on the bench, asking people what time it was with increasing desperation. It was already dark outside, and he couldn't get home because he lives on one of the top floors. He can't use the stairs, so he's dependent on the electricity to simply get home.

During the winter 2023, multiple Ukrainians froze to death, mostly those who weren't able to leave their apartments due to the lack of heating and working elevators, the consequence of bombing.

Sick people, disabled people, those with fragile health are all being slowly killed by the situation Ukraine is in. I barely function in such a heat, and I'm a young woman. What about people with heart diseases? What about the elderly?

Hospitals and vet clinics can't perform surgeries with certainty that the generator isn't going to break at the most critical moment. Small business close down because they can't afford to work.

Russia has made bombing a gruesome art. When the bombing is coming, first, it turns on the connection on a combat range. Usually, it happens around 20:00. From then on, we know that the whole country is about to be bombed and people and animals are going to die - we just don't know who's going to bear the worst impact. At around 22:00-23:00, Russian bombers fly out. It takes them about 4 hours to approach our borders and send their missiles. Then another 1 or 2 hours. Sometimes they are faking it. Most often, they are not.

Imagine how it affects every Ukrainian. To know what's coming hours in advance and to be unable to do anything about it. How many nerve endings are being destroyed. How many stress-related diseases are brewing already inside us, waiting to kill us months, years, or decades later.

Fearing for our lives, for the lives of our loved ones. Fearing losing our apartments - regular people like me will be homeless if the missile targets our houses. Fearing dying in the war. Fearing Russians burning down and occupying our cities, towns, and villages.

Russia is killing us in many ways, some instant, some not. And if nothing changes drastically, if the world continues to condemn Russia on words and play nice with it in actions because it's beneficial to them, I think Russia will succeed. We are a very small country compared to it. It will simply overwhelm us at some point, killing and injuring hundreds of thousands and displacing millions of Ukrainians.

Another short video. Note that it's just some scenes from some bombings in some regions in Ukraine, all taken this week. This week alone, Russia sent over 700 bombs, 170 drones, and 80 missiles against my country, including my city, killing many people. And this happens every. Single. Day. For two and a half years.

We are surviving against all odds. For now.

#personal #ukraine #kyiv #kiev #russia is a terrorist state

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kanatamour · 9 months

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hi tora!! another blog, another request from me~ today im hoping for headcanons "how do they act when they have a crush and how would they manage to confess" with nayuta, kanata, reo & hajun!! i don't know how many characters you do at the time, so if that's too much just nayuta & kanata are nice!! thank you so much hehe <3

THIS IS MY LOVE.

Because ‘I love you’ is written in every single one of his actions, but he needs to tell you properly.

ft. Yatonokami Nayuta, Yatonokami Kanata, Maruyama Reo, Hajun Yeon x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, love confessions, some angst.

Hello, Jules, dear and thank you so much for sending in another request here ! I’m sorry this took a while, but I still hope you enjoy it and that it can make you smile <3 I ended up making it in time before the year ends, so happy new year !

ଓ YATONOKAMI NAYUTA

“You came along, and my heart smiled. So, get rid of those doubts, my love, I’ve been waiting for you.”

— With Nayuta, you realize he’s in love because of his smile.

— His usually apathetic, even melancholy expression, is replaced by an upwards curve to his lips, brimming in a sweetness that is hard to place.

— To anyone who deigns to observe where his iridescent eyes keep looking, they’d find you at the end of the lane.

— It is easy to see, when you two are together. His gaze is a little brighter, that difference that makes you discern dusk from dawn; he seems more energized, the lilt to his voice a tad more upbeat, particles of sundust shining in the words he addresses to you.

— And perhaps everyone notices, and Nayuta hopes you do too.

— And maybe you already have, but alas, fear seems to follow humans in crucial moments, confusing the heart, leading it through twisting alleys that echo the unsavory sounds of ‘what if’.

— What is it’s just all in your head. What if you’re overthinking and reading the signs the wrong way.

— The sighs he lets out, alone, in the dead on night are the unheard confirmation that his feelings for you are real.

— And yet, miles separate you, each of you lying on your side in the blue light of a faded moon.

— But, as they say, every cloud has a silver lining.

— Nayuta just will have to tell you directly, then.

— Or rather, show you.

— You find yourselves on the topmost floor of his secret hideout, the sun casting in coppery hues the thousands of piled up buildings below; a beautiful contradiction, how the slums had a beauty to them at golden hour.

— But so did your moments with Nayuta.

— You found him, the one you hold most dear. It didn’t matter if it was in a place this world had forgotten.

— Because you could never forget Yatonokami Nayuta.

— Nor the kiss he gives you when you turn towards him at the call of your name.

— You can taste the remaining sweetness of the popsicle he was just eating as his hands land on either side of you, stabilizing himself when he leans in further.

— And because there is no way your mind is making up the cool softness of his lips on yours, you kiss him back, hands cradling his cheeks, strands of silken moonshine reflected on puddles after the rain tickling your fingers.

— “Is it clear now, that I like you, my cute [Y/n]?” Nayuta utters, in the sunset lit instants between his kiss and the second one you initiate as an answer.

— You don’t trust your voice right now, so you’ll speak in the language lovers do when words are superfluous.

— And you can be sure, he’ll be asking for more.

ଓ YATONOKAMI KANATA

“Your petals were bloodied amidst the storm and you still shined. When I next realized, I was the thorns, and you, the only rose.”

— Kanata doesn’t know what is it he feels for you.

— And what’s more, he doesn’t know why.

— Weren’t you another one of those rich brats to begin with? It was your fault that day you were in trouble in the rain, being robbed by some troublemakers.

— And yet, the moment you resisted to give them your pocket money and one of the attacker’s hands closed around your wrist, something in Kanata snapped.

— He doesn’t know how, or the reason behind which he found himself throwing punches until those bastards were running away.

— But he knew he didn’t like the sight of the cut they somehow managed to land on your cheek.

— “Thank you for that, but are you okay?” You asked him, checking for bruises on your nameless savior.

— You are the one bleeding and yet, you ask him that.

— “You shouldn’t be here.” Kanata spats, turning away.

— “Wait! What’s your name?” You asked, running to catch up with him.

— He ‘tsks’. Why can’t he leave you alone in the rain? Why does the sight of blood running down a stranger’s face sit so wrong with him?

— Annoyed, he drapes his jacket over your head.

— “You don’t want to know.” Are the last words he tells you, before running off.

— You stand there, dumfounded, the boy’s hoodie shielding you from the rain.

— You’ll be back here tomorrow.

— The sky dyes in shades of peach and lavender, reminding you of the sweet scent of spring. Ironic, in such a cold evening, and even more so in this district.

— You have a feeling you’ll find him again, so you wait. His jacket is neatly folded over your lap, as a stray kitten rubs itself against your leg.

— Then you spot him. Short sleeved t-shirt on, hands buried deep in the pockets of his pants.

— “Put this on, at least!” You call, throwing him his jacket. “Catch!”

— Eyes not unlike the color of the sky widen at the sight of you again.

— “Thank you for yesterday, whatever your name is.” You softly tell the young man, reaching where he stands with the small cat in your arms.

— It meows at him. Extending one of its paws.

— “See? He wants to know your name too!” You pout, holding one of the kitten’s white paws in your hand.

— “Ugh fine! It’s Kanata, okay?”

— “Nice to meet you, Kanata.” You giggle, as the cat paws at your hero’s face.

— And somehow, the way you call his name… It’s pleasant, a sweet melody shining in a world of gray.

— He wants to see you again.

— So, next time, he’s the one to seek you out.

— You always meet at the same place; the street where the white kitten lives. Sometimes it goes home with Kanata, though, and others you bring him to your apartment.

— Time is fleeting, and days become months, with December snow fading to rays of February sun, auguring an early spring.

— And then one day, Kanata isn’t there.

— You wait, with your cat friend, who meows sadly at you, climbing on your lap when the first tears begin to fall.

— That evening you leave, matching cups of ramen left to the freeze of a lonely night.

— However, someone saw this hurtful scene.

— “Care to explain yourself?” Nayuta asks his brother, slamming the door behind him.

— Kanata turns slightly around. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

— “Oh, you… You know very well. Why didn’t you go today?”

— To which Kanata shrugs.

— “Fine. I hope you know they left crying.” His younger twin points out. “Will you just face your feelings and accept you’re in love and that they love you?”

— “That’s…” Kanata’s shoulders slump. “They deserve better…”

— “Silly!” His brother intercepts, with a soft flick to his forehead. “And what? They want you. So you better get it together and go find them now!”

— And well, for some reason, Kanata doesn’t need to be told twice.

— Luckily for him, a small friend is there to help.

— Following the kitty, they both manage to locate you.

— “[Y/n]! Wait!” The boy who saved you that night calls, putting a hand on your shoulder.

— “What do you want, Yatonokami?” You ask, tone cold, without turning around.

— It hurts him. The way he’s hurt you, the way you won’t face him, the way you use his last name instead.

— “I’m sorry. I just… I’m stupid, okay? I couldn’t come to terms with- the thing is- I… I… Oh, to hell with it! I like you, okay? And I just didn’t know how to act around you or what to do and I thought you deserved better and so I just stood you up and I messed up.”

— A chuckle is definitely not the answer he was expecting.

— “You are cute when you blush, Kanata.” You murmur, wiping away a stray tear, smiling sweetly at him.

— “I’m not-“ He starts, cheeks blooming in crimson roses.

— “I said it’s cute. You are cute.”

— Droplets of thin rain begin to fall.

— “I like you too, if that wasn’t obvious.” You softly say, with a kiss to his cheeks.

— Much like the night you met, rain surrounds you. This time, it’s his cheek that burns, not because an open wound, but because of the searing sensation of a kiss he won’t forget.

ଓ MARUYAMA REO

“What is the point for a rainbow to hide? Let’s write our love in the sky.”

— Reo is a cutie and he definitely has a way with flirting.

— So that’s exactly what he does.

— He is not shy about it in the slightest, often complimenting you on your new clothes, telling how sweet you are or giving you hugs out of nowhere.

— Of course, all of the above, always that you are comfortable; Reo is very cheerful, but he knows how to read your emotions and pick up what you like and dislike.

— And at first, you didn’t think much of it. Sure, he is very affectionate with you, but he is with everyone else too, right? It’s not like you are receiving special treatment.

— Which, in turn, frustrates Reo more.

— Is he doing something wrong? He’s being pretty obvious, right?

— Or maybe… you don’t feel the same way?

— No, no, no, he can’t fall into negativity.

— He has to take you to a nice date and tell you how he feels directly.

— So, he puts together some money he’s been saving and chooses his cutest outfit. This is a special occasion and he wants to make you happy.

— When you arrive at the accorded spot, Reo is already waiting for you.

— Sure, he is a sunshine, but you didn’t expect an amusement park date, seeming how he and his gang usually preferred to hang out at the ramen place.

— “Hello, [Y/n]!” He greets you, those eyes of his mirroring the sunset clouds lining the horizon. “I got cotton candy hehe. One for you and one for me!”

— You take the sweet treat from him, eyes sparkly at the delicious sugary scent wafting around you.

— “Woaah! It looks so tasty! You’re the best Reo…” You thank him.

— And maybe, just maybe, because this is a date, you leave a cotton candy kiss on his cheek, giggling at the pink remnants left behind.

— To which the boy grins mischievously, bringing his fingers to it and tasting the sugary treat.

— “Hmm… Your kiss was sweeter…” He ponders, as your cheeks heat up. “What if we repeat it, properly this time?”

— And at that moment, beneath the lighting of dusk and attractions, your lips touch for the first time; a memory written over cottony clouds in rosey glaze.

— “I love you, pretty.” Reo utters, nose brushing against yours, when he parts.

— “I love you too, Reo.” Are your words, before you initiate a second kiss.

— Little did you two know, Iori and the rest of the gang are looking from afar, proud of his youngest member (Suiseki is a little jealous, but that’s another story).

ଓ HAJUN YEON

“I’ll erase the piercing words that were etched into your soul that day.”

— This man’s way of flirting is teasing you (change my mind).

— With his fans, he is all smiles and charming phrases, but when he really loves you, you get to see a more… naughty side of him.

— When he teases you, he doesn’t do it out of malice, no.

— He’s been hurt in the past, and even if his infatuation with you grows by the day, a part of him is still afraid he’ll be discarded again.

— The words ‘you are not needed anymore’ still resound inside his mind, no matter how much he smiles or tries to look perfect on the outside.

— So he’s wary of diving into a new relationship.

— But at the same time, you are so lovely… The way you pout when he’s teasing you, or how you call him and wave at him whenever you see him at uni…

— Hajun would really like to spend more time with you.

— “You should.” Anne tells him, when they finally get Hajun to spill the beans. “I know you’re afraid to trust but… Isn’t it lonely, to keep the one you love at a distance?”

— It is, yes.

— It’s painful if he stays away. And the variant of getting hurt hangs in the air if he tries to get closer.

— But, as they say, ships were not made to stay at harbor.

— So he’ll take this chance and hope for the best.

— And for that, you know he’ll use his charm.

— A cute cafe date here; dinner at his place that he cooked himself using organic ingredients there; and of course, the occasional expensive gift you had been eyeing, mysteriously arriving at your doorstep.

— You like all of this, and especially, you like him.

— However, a part of you can’t help but wonder: what does he want with me? What does he get out of all of this?

— With those thoughts, you lie in bed, listening to his music in the new noise canceling headphones you’re sure he’s bought for you.

— You’re so not sleeping tonight. Maybe tomorrow you’ll ask him about what ‘ulterior’ motives he has.

— The model’s vibrant eyes widen slightly behind his glasses when you utter the question.

— “Why me, Hajun? What are you planning?”

— It hurts him. How it seems he’s not the only one with trust issues here.

— So that’s how you think of it. Some kind of twisted game he’s playing to get something out of you.

— “I’m serious here, Hajun.” You insist, tone stern, when all the answer he gives you are the subtle expressions of his face.

— And for once, he decides to be honest. No mask of perfection obscuring the words he next speaks.

— “Because I’ve fallen in love with you, [Y/n]. Because I was afraid to trust, to be left behind, thrown away. But then you came around. And I wanted to spend more time with you. This is no game, not one that I plan on ending anyway.” He whispers that last part to your ear, a knowing smile on his lips as he feels the heat on your cheeks.

— “Hajun… You… You mean that?”

— “More than anything.” He vows, placing a kiss to the back of your hand, the one adorned with the set of silver rings he gifted you, never once breaking eye contact.

— Your fingers slot in between his. You suppose it’s alright to let your heart take command and test the waters.

— After all, you can’t keep denying you’ve been in love with him since the beginning, too. You just never thought he’d end up reciprocating.

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perotovar · 7 months

Text

into the beat of the night (ch 7) "in my side"

moodboard by @hellishjoel (ty, honey ♥)

pairing: frankie morales/oc!river price (they/them) rating: E (18+) chapter warnings: deadnaming, misgendering, seriously there's a whole character that just dismisses river's entire being so if that triggers you or you don't want to read it i completely understand, one (1) panic attack, one (1) depressive episode, frankie being the best boyfriend in the world, possible food triggers (river doesn't want to eat while depressed), discussions of past abusive behavior (gaslighting, belittling, etc), if i missed anything lmk! word count: 3.5k dividers by @saradika-graphics beta: @scenaaario

main masterlist | series masterlist

They had been at the mall for a couple of hours now, but Frankie didn’t mind. He enjoyed helping River pick out clothes, but he preferred when they went to thrift stores. Less people, fewer crowds.

Plus, the thrift stores usually had something that he could fix up. He had been working with his hands a lot more lately in his free time.

Now, he leaned against the dressing room outer wall, waiting for River to come out and show him a shirt they wanted to try on. Frankie smiled to himself as he thought about his partner.

They’ve been official for six months now. It feels as fresh as when he first saw them at the Night Owl, and as comfortable as if they had been together for years. They spend an equal amount of time at their respective apartments, and visit each other on their lunch breaks frequently. Frankie isn’t sure he has ever been so happy in a relationship as with River. In previous relationships, there was always an expectation of him. A role he had to play. With River, he can just be. They don’t expect anything of him. Except maybe his attention and love.

And he had no problem giving them that.

“Frankie?” River laughed softly.

Frankie startled and turned his head toward his partner. “Sorry, Riv,” he smiled sheepishly. “Zoned out a little. Is that the shirt?”

River’s face softened at their boyfriend’s easy smile. The past six months had been some of the best in River’s life. They were so thankful for Frankie’s respect and patience.

“Yeah,” River nodded. “What d’you think?” They tugged on the long sleeves, pushing their thumb through the hole cut into the fabric. They twirled a little and did some silly, flirty poses for Frankie. He smirked, his eyes twinkling in interest as he shamelessly checked them out.

“You’re insatiable,” River giggled, pushing Frankie’s shoulder playfully.

“Rachael?”

River froze, their entire body going cold in an instant. Their smile dropped and they shut their eyes, face pinched. They’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Riv? What’s going on?” Frankie stood, one large hand reaching out to cup their face. When River flinched slightly, his heart cracked, just a little. “Baby?”

“Rachael!” The voice chirped again, “It’s been so long! I didn’t think I’d see you here!”

Tears welled up in River’s eyes at the sound of the voice. Her voice. Why did she have to come back into River’s life now? Of all times?

Frankie felt unmoored, suddenly lost for a way to comfort River. He was interrupted by a short, very pretty woman appearing at River’s side and clutching their bicep. She was blonde, and had an almost ethereal beauty about her. Frankie’s brows furrowed and his chest puffed up a little, feeling possessive. Who was this touching his partner?

River opened their eyes slowly, and when they did, Frankie didn’t see his partner in them. His Río. They looked completely numb. “Hello, Evangeline,” River said in a flat tone Frankie didn’t recognize.

Evangeline? Frankie blinked, his left hand tightening around the handles of the bags he was carrying.

Who was Rachael?

“It’s been such a long time,” Evangeline sighed wistfully. “What have you been up to?”

River hadn’t turned to look at Evangeline yet, staring at Frankie’s chest and tracing the pattern of the t-shirt he was wearing today; Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. They swallowed around a lump in their throat and let out a shaky breath. “Working,” they answered simply.

Evangeline ignored them and turned towards Frankie, startling like she just realized he was standing there. “Oh, I’m so sorry! How rude of me, I’m Evangeline.” She said her own name like she was someone to know, and held out her hand for Frankie to take. He looked at her face, then her hand, then River, and decided against it. “I’m sure she’s told you about me?”

“Frankie,” he said simply, voice low and eyes never leaving River’s face. He had to get them out of here. “And no. They haven’t,” Frankie bristled, dark eyes finally landing on Evangeline’s face and finding her staring at him, accusation hardening her features. She was judging him.

Well, the feeling was mutual.

“Riv?” He said softly. River blinked away tears as they looked up at him, avoiding his gaze. This was the smallest he’d ever seen them and he hated it. He didn’t know where his confident, loving River went, and had no idea how to get them back.

“Oh, don’t tell me you actually go by that silly nickname still?” Evangeline giggled.

River winced and bit their lip. They turned and went back into the changing room without another word. When Frankie heard them sniffling, his entire body stiffened.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Frankie snapped, finally finding his voice, and crossed his arms. He stood a good foot taller than her, but that didn’t seem to bother the petite woman. It didn’t seem like much of anything did. “And why are you calling them Rachael?”

“That’s her name, obviously,” Evangeline rolled her eyes. “Her real one. We dated. For a long time.”

Frankie squinted his eyes. This must have been River’s last serious relationship. He had only heard of her in passing, and certainly never a name or how demeaning she was. Not that they ever needed to, now that they had him.

He ignored the name part on purpose.

“You must be her new plaything,” Evangeline sighed, like she felt sorry for him, as she pretended to check her manicure. “It won’t last long.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember asking for your opinion. You can leave now,” Frankie grumbled, taking a step closer to tower over her.

“I’m just trying to help,” she rolled her eyes again. “This is what she does. She’ll keep you around for a little while and when she gets bored, or finds someone new, she’ll leave.”

Frankie sighed angrily, the bile in his throat starting to sting. He set the bags of River’s purchases down on the floor next to the dressing room and quickly turned toward the checkout. Making a harassment complaint would probably get rid of her easily enough. He squeezed his fists tighter at his sides, heavy work boots thundering across the linoleum. Before he made it very far, he heard the sound of heels clacking and turned back toward the changing rooms.

Evangeline was gone.

Frankie sighed and made his way back to River. He stood in front of their changing room and knocked softly on the wall next to the curtain. “Río? Baby? Are you okay?”

River felt like they’d been kicked in the stomach. They could barely breathe or stand. They were hunched over on the bench in the changing room and hiding their face in their hands. They sniffled a few times before coughing, their hand pressed against their chest to try and breathe.

“I’m going to open the curtain, okay?” Frankie’s voice sounded like it was a hundred miles away. Light from the store poured into the small room, making them look up. Frankie was illuminated by the shitty fluorescent lighting, but it was one of the most beautiful things River had ever seen. “Mi amorcito,” he said softly, getting down on his knees in front of them. He cupped their face tenderly and rubbed their tears away with his thumbs.

“Frankie,” River sniffled, face pinched in pain.

“Shh, c’mere,” he soothed, pulling them down onto the floor with him so he could hold them close. He rocked them in his arms and pet their hair comfortingly. “Do you wanna go home?”

River nodded against his skin, their face buried in his neck. He felt the collar of his shirt getting wetter by the minute, but he didn’t care at all.

“C’mon, baby.” He patted their arm gently, encouraging them to stand with him. He laced their fingers together as he grabbed their bags, and led River out of the mall.

It took a few days for River to explain just what happened at the mall. They’d asked Frankie for some space and while he really didn’t want to give it to them, he also respected their wishes too much to argue.

When River texted a picture of Jonsey napping on their lap and their Baphomet slippered-feet in the background, he knew he had the greenlight to visit them. He was at work when he received the photo, and he knew River knew that, so he waited. He responded with his own picture of his greased up hand and forearm and the hangar he was currently working in. He spent the rest of his workday thinking up a plan for that evening.

River hadn’t seen nor heard from Evangeline in a long time. At least seven years. Hearing her voice again brought River back to a place they hoped they’d never return to.

River’s therapist told them that Evangeline was gaslighting them. They’d heard the term used before, but didn’t fully understand what it meant until Dr. Owens explained it to them. Evangeline had been emotionally manipulative and abusive, and even got physical once or twice.

She never accepted River for who they were and did everything in her power to downplay River’s feelings. River still didn’t understand why.

Evangeline would tell River that all of their dysphoria was something else. Everything River felt or even thought was strange or abnormal. Evangeline was the only one in the relationship that was of sound mind. River was already in a vulnerable place when they met, and Evangeline knew just how to exploit that.

There was a chance that Evangeline did actually love River. When they first met in their statistics class in college, their connection had been magnetic. They did a lot of the same sort of things that River and Frankie did now, but River could see now how different it was with Frankie. River was never scared that Frankie would judge or make fun of anything they said. With Evangeline it was like trying to cross a minefield. Whether it was a new band they found, or exploring feelings about their sexuality, River could never predict what would set Evangeline off.

The straw that broke the camel’s back for River came when they wanted to get top surgery. Evangeline blew up, throwing things around her apartment because she was “tired of the weird nonbinary bullshit”. She didn’t believe it existed, and was convinced River was just looking for attention.

River left, changed their number, and never looked back. The night Evangeline tried to get into their apartment in the wee hours, they had the locks changed, too.

A soft mrrp beckoned River’s attention from the floor. Jonsey tilted his head to the side as he looked at them before jumping up onto the couch. He walked his way over to them and got comfy on their lap, kneading the skin of River’s tummy like dough. River smiled sadly and scritched his face lovingly. When Jonsey started purring, they knew they would be stuck there for a while.

Looking through their phone at photos of Frankie, they felt awful. They hadn’t told Frankie any of this, hoping that they just didn’t ever have to think about her ever again. Frankie deserved to know, though, and they wanted to get it out in the open and out of the way.

When they received the photo from Frankie at work, their heart thundered in their chest. They really did love him. They just couldn’t voice it.

Yet.

The smell of River’s favorite takeout place filled the air in Frankie’s truck. His stomach roared to life at the smell of noodles and vegetables. Chicken for him, none for River. He looked in the backseat at the giant pillow/stuffed animal of a bat he found at the store. He hoped they’d like it.

He pulled into River’s apartment complex and parked outside their building. He took a deep breath in the silence of the cab, grabbing the food and the bat, and kicked the door shut with his boot. He held the pillow close as he knocked as softly as he could with his boot against the door.

All the tension in Frankie’s shoulders left as soon as he saw River’s tired face. It looked like they hadn’t slept in a while. Their hair was in a high messy bun, and they wore a pair of boxer briefs, an old faded t-shirt with the words Sisters of Mercy across the chest, and their Baphomet slippers.

“Hey, baby,” Frankie hummed softly, a hopeful smile gracing his features. “Got you something to eat in case you were hungry.”

River smiled sadly at the food. They hadn’t eaten in days, and they probably looked like it, too. The smell of the food hit their nose, making their stomach grumble in protest. Frankie chuckled softly at the sound.

“Figured.” He held out the bag toward them before doing the same with the stuffed animal.

“And who– who is this?” River had to clear their throat in the middle of speaking, realizing they hadn’t spoken in days either. They set the food down on the coffee table as Frankie shut the door behind him, looking over the large bat pillow with a raised eyebrow.

“Do you hate it?” Frankie asked, biting his lip. He usually got Marisol a stuffed animal whenever she was upset. He knew River wasn’t a toddler, but he also knew that they deserved something soft, too. “I saw it at the store, and…” He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

River hummed and hugged the pillow close. “I love her,” they smiled up at him.

“Her?” Frankie grinned.

“Her name is Agnes.”

Frankie snorted. “Alright. Agnes it is.” He stepped closer to them as they hugged Agnes and tucked a few stray hairs from their bun behind their ear. “How are you doing, mi río?” He asked softly, cupping their face and rubbing his thumb across their cheekbone.

River’s eyes grew a touch sadder at the question, but they smiled anyway. “A little better,” they answered honestly. “Missed you,” they mumbled, setting Agnes down on the couch so they could wrap their arms around Frankie’s middle. They held on tight, squeezing the air out of his lungs but it felt like the first time Frankie properly breathed in days. He held them just as tightly, before kissing the top of their head.

“Missed you too, baby,” he hummed. “Was worried about you.”

River frowned and squeezed him a little more. “‘M sorry for making you worry,” they said into his shirt, the smell of oil and metal wafting off of him. The scent grounded them.

“Shh, no need to apologize, okay?” He pulled back a little, keeping his arms around them, but looking into their eyes seriously. “I’m always gonna worry about you. Even if I know you’re okay. You know I care about you,” he smiled, brushing the knuckle of his index finger against their nose softly.

River’s heart melted at the gesture, their cheeks growing warm. They smiled and looked at the bottom of his neck, a particular freckle catching their eye. They leaned forward to press a soft kiss to it before resting their head on his chest. Frankie held them close and rocked them gently.

River’s stomach roared, causing them to freeze for a second. Frankie chuckled and kissed the top of their head again. “C’mon. Lets get some food in you, yeah?”

They ate in silence. And when it wasn’t silent, Frankie was talking about Marisol or work. River listened intently, the sound of their boyfriend’s voice soothing them. Frankie put down his spoon after he finished off his fried rice, and grabbed some chopsticks. River’s eyes were glued to the thick fingers of his right hand, pupils dilating.

“Baby?” Frankie smiled softly, picking up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks and holding it above his plate. “Did I lose you?” He teased.

River jumped a little in their seat, their eyes snapping up to his face. “Hm? No,” they cleared their throat, picking up a piece of zucchini with their own chopsticks. They stared at the vegetable and bit their lip. They probably wouldn’t be able to finish the meal Frankie went through the trouble of getting for them. Their appetite seemed to have disappeared again.

Frankie raised a brow, face pinched in concern. “You don’t have to eat anymore right now. You ate most of your noodles, which I’m glad to see,” he said softly. “You can always finish it later.”

River nodded, feeling like they were on autopilot. “We were together for five years. I didn’t… I wasn’t… me, yet.”

Frankie froze, watching River’s face carefully. They were staring out into the middle distance, somewhere around Frankie’s shoulder. “Baby, we don’t have to–”

“Yes, we do,” River’s voice was scratchy, but firm. “I went to therapy after we– After I left her. She wouldn’t let me get top surgery.”

Frankie’s eyebrows furrowed and he set down his chopsticks, crossing his arms over his chest on the dining room table. The air in River’s apartment was still, the dim light from the kitchen making River’s dark features even darker. “‘Let’?” He asked quietly.

River nodded as they swallowed around a lump in their throat. “Yes. There were… rules. Well, unspoken ones. She never believed in, well… this,” they sighed, gesturing to their torso. “Still doesn’t, it seems.”

Frankie stayed quiet, letting them continue, despite wanting nothing more than to put his fist through the table in front of them.

“The… name she called me doesn’t apply to me anymore. My parents don’t even call me that anymore,” they whispered, a bitter laugh tacked on at the end.

“Deadnaming,” Frankie mumbled softly.

“Yeah–” River looked up at him, a confused expression on their face. “You know what that is?”

Frankie smiled shyly, but sadly. “Y-yeah, uh,” he chuckled. “I’ve been doing some research. Only fair,” he shrugged easily.

Tears welled up in River’s eyes as they smiled, picking at the nail polish on their fingers. “You’re amazing,” they whispered.

Frankie blushed, but didn’t argue. This wasn’t about him right now. He rested an open hand on the table, inviting them to give him one of their own. When River gave him one of their hands, he held it firmly in his own, thumb rubbing against their knuckles protectively. “Go on,” he encouraged gently.

River sighed heavily and nodded. They talked for a long time. Explaining anything and everything about their relationship with Evangeline, who they were before, and what brought them to him now. Not much was different, just the fact that they were more secure in who they are now.

“Gotta be honest,” River said softly, voice a little hoarse from talking so much. “Was scared how you’d react to a lot of this. I’m not sure why,” they shrugged. They knew deep down that Frankie would never judge them, nor would he be scared. They’d been through too much together.

Frankie lifted their hand and kissed River’s knuckles tenderly. “I get it,” he nodded. “I felt the same way when I told you about the military. About Colombia. I wasn’t sure if you’d see me differently or not.”

River shook their head. “No. Love you too much for that,” they mumbled quietly.

A wide grin broke out onto Frankie’s face slowly, cheeks burning red. “Love you, too, Riv.”

River hummed happily, then froze. With wide eyes, they stared at Frankie for a minute. They pointed at themself, a silent question written all over their face.

Frankie laughed softly. “You did,” he grinned, standing slowly so he could be closer to them. He cupped their face in his big hands as he looked down at them in their seat. “Love you so much,” he whispered, kissing them properly, lips melding easily against theirs.

River was completely lost in it, fingers tangled into the fabric of Frankie’s t-shirt tightly, like if they let go he’d disappear. They moaned softly into his mouth, a tear falling down their cheek. Frankie hummed in response, catching the tear on his thumb. He pulled away slightly to catch his breath and pressed his lips to their forehead. He kept them close like that for a little while, smelling the old dry shampoo stuck to River’s scalp.

“You should take a bath, baby,” Frankie said softly. River snorted into his shirt, face buried in his tummy.

“You saying I smell?”

When Frankie didn’t answer right away, River laughed, really laughed, for the first time since they were at the mall together.

“I–I’m not!”

River rolled their eyes and smiled up at him, chin resting on his torso. “Wanna join me?”

Frankie raised a brow and smirked, but his face grew serious quickly. “Río, we don’t have to do anything like that–”

“I know,” River muttered. “I didn’t want to. Just wanted,” they bit their lip. “Just wanted to be with you.”

Frankie’s heart melted and he nodded, kissing the hook of River’s nose. “I think I can do that,” he winked.

River didn’t doubt that for a second.

a/n: if you're curious, this is agnes and river's slippers ♥

#frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #frankie morales angst #frankie morales au #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #triple frontier au #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #oaksfics

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