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#i’m already having five breakdowns here

kkami-writes · 7 months

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waiting for us — chapter thirty five. in the rain cw. light breakdown wc. 1k + 2 ss

How long have you been sitting here? Curled up on a slab of concrete next to the vast field of the park. It’s too much. Your fears, your insecurities, there’s a looming darkness hovering over you, ready to strike when you’re weak. Why now? You had been having so much fun with them, finally lowering your walls and trying to let them in. But you could still hear your brothers voice in the back of your head, poisoning you slowly.

Seeing all of them today had just cemented the fact that you had fallen in love with these boys. You hadn’t even been on all of your solo dates yet, but you knew that it was inevitable and it scared the shit out of you. Blunt fingernails dig into the flesh of your upper arms, trying to pull yourself together but nothing had seemed to work. You were spiraling fast.

You had promised though, that when it was getting bad you’d text someone. So you had messaged the one who’d understand the most.

By the time Jisung finally shows up it’s already started to sprinkle just a little but it doesn’t bother him. You are far more important than a little rain. He feels like his heart might shatter at the sight of you, looking so small as you bundle into yourself. Jisung doesn’t want to frighten you so he just sits down next to you quietly, not touching you even though he just wants to scoop you up into a hug and shield you from the world that had hurt you so much.

“Hi…” You’re able to mumble out but you don’t look at him.

“Hi baby. Do you want to talk about it?” You shrug. “Was it today? Were we too much? I was a little scared we were pushing it a bit,” Just hearing his voice is soothing, instantly comforting you and you peak up at him from your safe little ball.

“No. It’s..not that. I just. I don’t know…I’m just so scared,”

“Mm, scared of what baby?” You’re trying to find the right words to say and Jisung is nothing but patient, letting you take all the time you need. He’s been so incredible to you, so understanding and sweet that you find yourself being honest. All your emotions spilling out at once before you can stop it.

“I’m- I’m so scared because I know I’m falling so in love with you guys and I’m scared that the more you get to know me the more you’ll realize that you were just in love with the idea of me. That you’ll realize you could never love someone like me,” You curl yourself back up, voice wavering with tears you’re so desperately not trying to shed.

Jisung is suddenly in front of you, tugging your arms to pull them away from you. Once he’s untangled you, he’s cupping your cheeks and pushing your chin up so you can stare at him.

“Silly girl. Don’t you know that we’re all already so in love with you? We have been before we even knew you were really our soulmate. We love all of you. Both the good and the bad. I know we’re still learning about you but I can promise there’s nothing you could tell us that would make us love you less. We love how strong you are, how willing you are to let us all in. We know how difficult this is for you and it’s something we all struggled with. But I hope you know that we’re in this for the long run. Sorry but you can’t get rid of us. Thirty day return policy. Besides, you could tell us you committed murder and we’d all say they probably deserved it. Pretty sure Minho knows where to hide a body. Hell, Seungmin would probably commit murder FOR you. Wouldn’t even have to lift a finger baby,” This gets a snort out of you and he beams down at you.

“There’s that cute laugh,” He hums, tucking some hair behind your ear. “It’s okay to not be okay sometimes. We all have those days and we’re always gonna be here for you when you’re down but please don’t ever doubt our feelings for you,” All you can do is nod your head.

By this point, it’s raining pretty hard, effectively soaking both of you but neither of you seem to care all that much.

“Now come on, lets get you out of the rain and into a warm shower. If you catch a cold it’s gonna be me that we bury next because Minho will kill me. Will you tell them I slayed at my funeral?”

“Ha, don’t worry I’ll let them all know you served cunt baby girl. But that won’t happen, I’m sure I can work some magic against Minho,” Jisung laughs.

“Ah, my savior,” He helps you up off the concrete and moves to guide you back towards his car. You stop in your steps though and it makes Jisung pause, turning back to look at you. “What’s up?”

You don’t know if it’s because your emotions are still running haywire or Jisung’s speech but you just can’t hold yourself back anymore. You reach out to wrap your fingers around the collar of his hoodie and pull him down to you, gently placing your lips against his.

He seems for frozen for a second before melting against you, arms coming to wrap around your middle to pull you even closer. You’re a little clumsy with your lips but Jisung makes up for it as he guides you through it, his lips moving rather expertly. When you pull away you’re panting softly, having forgotten to breathe. Jisung can’t help but place a few more kisses against your lips and it has you blushing. Mostly because you can’t believe you just did that.

“Was….that your first?” You look away, unable to look him in the eyes as you nod. If possible his smile gets even bigger. “You are so adorable,” Jisung hums, slipping his hands into yours. He’s back to pulling you to the car. “Ok but seriously, you’re soaked. We need to get you out of the rain asap. You can have more kisses later,”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying. Can I take it back?”

“Nope. Hyunjin bragged about you kissing his cheek. I cannot WAIT to rub it in his face that I was your first kiss,”

“You guys are about to be unbearable aren’t you?”

“Oh yeah,”

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todoriin · 3 months

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lose something, babe | rin can't leave you if you do it first.

cw: toxic relationship, avoidant gn!reader, angst w comfort, ambiguous ending, unhealthy portrayals of love, read with caution.

The rain hits your windshield like bullets.

Even with your wipers cranked up to the most powerful option, you still can’t see too clearly admist the chaos, streetlights and passing cars becoming nothing but droplets of light in the dark. It’s exceptionally lonely in your car, and cold, too.

Bringing your sweater-covered hands to your mouth, you breathe warmth into them, reaching for your phone.

No messages from Rin, or any notifications, for that matter. You don’t know whether to be relieved or saddened that he didn’t care to reach out in this weather, not that it surprised you. The only thing Rin will have with him when he crawls over mountains and swims across seas is his pride, and it’s the one thing he vehemently defends, even if it’s against you.

He makes you feel so small in comparison to him, and in a way, you are. Your name isn’t on billboards, you don’t have millions of followers on social media, and you don’t have the ego of a thousand suns behind you. At any moment, he could leave, and you know that, so you'll do it first.

Even if it means getting trapped in a thunderstorm; your least favourite weather to be stuck outside in.

Your phone rings with the sounds of a call, phone speaker turned up to max volume to break through the thunderous storm.

“Isagi?” You greet.

“Yeah? What’s up?” He answers from the other end.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

“No, you can talk.”

“Can I crash at yours for a little? I’m… a bit far from home and you’re closer to my location.”

“You’re outside? In this weather? Does Rin know?”

“Don’t tell him.”

“Why not?”

You’re silent, pondering whether to lie or not. However, your lack of an answer gave Isagi one regardless.

“It’s none of my business, I shouldn’t have pried. Come over, you shouldn’t be alone in a storm like this.”

“Thank you, it means a lot.”

“No problem. Drive safe.”

“I will.”

It feels a little warmer when Isagi hangs up, his friendliness contrasting the ice that Rin likes to weaponise and throw against you.

The drive to his takes no longer than five minutes, and when you arrive, Isagi is already waiting for you, bundled in a warm hoodie and track pants.

Comfort is standing under the light and warmth of his front entrance, gratitude is being thankful to have a roof over your head.

“Come in,” the athlete ushers you inside.

“I’m sorry to barge in like this,” you murmur guiltily, quietly removing your shoes because to make sound was to exist, and you don’t want your presence to be a burden to him. You know that you're out of place here, and that his hospitality was one you don't deserve.

“No, please don’t apologise. It’s what friends do for each other.”

It’s peaceful at his place. There’s a 90s romance playing on his widescreen TV, an opened bag of chips on his coffee table paired with a no sugar fizzy drink. He ushers around the attached kitchen to pour you a cup of water.

You don’t recognise the show, and you won’t pretend like you do. To make conversation, you ask him what he’s watching, and whether or not it’s good since you’re on the lookout for good shows to watch. It’s only when Isagi’s done with his explanation that your phone buzzes with a message, the notification even reaching his ears.

“Is that Rin?” The dark-haired questions.

“Yeah.”

rin: The storm just reached here, are you safe?

y/n: yeah

Three bubbles appear, and then disappear, and then reappear. “Did something happen between you two?” Isagi asks, sincere and careful with his words.

“A small argument.”

“Are you sure? I don't know if it was... small.”

The evidence is plastered all over your face. Puffy eyes, dry tear marks, a red nose- all traces of the breakdown you had in the car that you tried to wipe away, but the most observant of people in the world see what others don’t want you to. Isagi’s good at that exactly.

"Small arguments don't cause people to drive so far from home."

You might cry again if he keeps looking at you so pitifully. You’re not miserable, you want to tell him, that you’re happy in your relationship with Rin even though sometimes his thorns pierce your most guarded of layers. There are more ups than downs with Rin, and you work through them together, you just need some time to breathe without him first because it’s easier to do so without him, that’s just how love and relationships should work, and when will this nightmare end?

“It was a small argument,” you pinch your nose bridge, eyes stinging with tears that threaten to fall.

Isagi hums in sympathy, not believing your words. That’s when your phone buzzes with another message.

rin: Where are you?

you: safe im turning notifications off

Isagi invites you to talk, that if you need the space, he’s offering it to you. What starts off as a small rant blows up into something you can’t control, only spaced out by sighs and noises of exasperation as you go over the fucked up things you both said to each other tonight.

By the time you’re done, there’s a series of loud bashes on Isagi’s door. Rin’s voice comes from the other side, fighting the downpour outside that still drums down, neither of them relenting.

“Don’t open it,” Isagi tells you, and you remain frozen in your spot. It’s hard to get up, hard to breathe, hard to think as he easily gets up and walks over to the entrance.

Is Rin angry at you for coming here? Has he come to drag you back home? To continue the argument from before you stormed out?

An infinity stretches between now and Isagi opening the door, but time comes crashing down when you hear the abrasiveness of Rin’s voice. He’s demanding for you, asking if Isagi did anything to harm you as if he isn’t the sole reason for your tears and sorrow tonight. As if he isn’t the one who hurt you the most, and here he is, making a ruckus in the home of a man who let you under his roof when you couldn’t go home.

“Rin, leave Isagi alone,” you call out, finally finding the courage to stand.

It’s silent, but the footsteps come barrelling towards you and Rin turns the corner with a frantic look in his eyes.

“Fuck, baby, are you okay?”

You were until he showed up. “I’m fine. How did you know I was here?”

“Your location, you’re always sharing it with me.”

“I- then what gave you the right to show up?” You almost choke on your anger, “I don’t want to see you, Rin.”

His grip on the wall tightens, as if the floor beneath him would give out from any second and he’d be sent tumbling into the abyss of emotions he can’t recognise and refuses to recognise. Despite it all, he can’t stop looking at you, as if tearing his eyes away would cause you to vanish, and he’d be tripping after traces.

“I needed to know if you were safe,” your boyfriend breathes shakily, pushing himself off the wall and towards you. You back away and only stop when your feet hit the couch, and Rin cages you in easily, large hands wrapping around your wrists like chains. “Come home, babe.”

“I want space, Rin.”

“I’ll give you space, I’ll give you everything you need, just- come home,” he begs, leaning in to rest his foreheads against yours with closed eyes.

It’s airy and desperate, the way he speaks. It is a siren’s song, and you shouldn’t listen, but oh, he is speaking so softly and kindly that it lures you in to a false sense of security. You almost close your eyes- almost, but in the moment it matters most, you push him away, allowing him to see your sorrowful state for the first time since he caused it.

Is love supposed to be as cruel as Itoshi Rin? Is it supposed to make you cry, fight, and thrash?

“Let go,” you try to tear your hands out of his, but he only retaliates by kissing your complaints away, swallowing them with his mouth so that your venom will settle in his stomach instead of his heart.

He’s insistent and everywhere. One of his legs are slotted between yours, his hands are warm on your cheeks, and the clash of his nose and teeth against yours feel so raw and human that it drains all of your fight out of you. How do you run away from this?

Persistently and blindly, he places kisses along your face, never straying too far from your lips.

No matter how much you want to pull away, you fight for what you love, not against it, so you sink into him instead and let Rin run his course, helpless to his onslaught of affection.

You try not to cower away too much.

“I’m sorry,” Rin whispers. “Don’t be mad anymore, I’m sorry for being a dick, come home, I'll leave, I just need to know that you're safe.”

He coaxes you into coming home with him, that you can come pick up your car tomorrow because he knows you hate driving in heavy rain. That he’ll pay for whatever parking fees you have accumulated. That you can talk- really talk it out, together at home.

The look Rin gives Isagi is less than friendly when you bid your farewells. You deem it compulsory to go out tomorrow to buy a gift for the poor soccer player, who has been an involuntary witness to the mess that is tonight.

There is concern in Isagi’s eyes when you turn around to wave goodbye.

#itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #cw toxic relationship #todoriin

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sc0tters · 6 months

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Forever Yours | Mat Barzal

summary: when Mat’s words send the argument too far it sends him into a day of true self reflection.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing.

word count: 3.41k

authors note: this request was really good and I tried to fulfil it as well as I could and do that little bit more for it too. It took my an embarrassingly long amount of time to write this but I think that it was all worth it in the end. I really did love this one so I’m hoping that you guys did too, so to those of you who do read it all, thank you.

Today was one of those days.

The one where you want to crawl into a ball and hope that if you shut your eyes tight enough you’ll wake up and realise that it was all just some bad dream.

Zack your youngest has been clinging to your side as he is going through teething. Then the twins who were weeks away from turning four were having the worst time of their lives. Whilst Oscar lost his teddy bear to the family lab Marley, Marcus only wanted his father who was far too busy preparing for the end of the season’s playoff run.

And that brings that to why you were having a bad day.

The crockpot decided to turn off at some point during the day so you no longer had dinner cooking, Amazon delivered your package that had the boys presents in it to the scary neighbour. The boys had you chasing them around publix because they kept on running away. And to top it all off you had dirty laundry that could have been coming out of your ears you had so much to do.

Which is why you were honestly giving yourself a pat on the back for getting Zack to sleep before Mat came home “daddy!” Marcus cheered running over to his father who came in the front door.

You wiped your hands on the kitchen cloth that was in front of you before you turned to where the noise had been coming from “hi love.” You yawned as your eyes grew heavy when the lack of sleep that you had began to catch up with you.

Mat furrowed his brows as he saw that the dinner table wasn’t even set yet “boys already eat?” He asked giving you a side hug.

A quick shake of your head had him scoffing “what the hell was so important today that you couldn’t get dinner ready for five thirty?” The hockey player had a rough day where he couldn’t seem to score a single goal during practice today and he brought that negative mood home with him “boys why don’t you go to the playroom?” You asked the twins sending their father a glare “we are not doing this with them here.” You warned as the boys ran off unaware of the glaring match that their parents held.

Mat crossed his arms as he tapped his foot against the floor “you haven’t answered my question yet.” His voice was condescending as it made you feel sick to your stomach.

You sighed “day just got really out of hand.” You mumbled picking up that he wasn’t going to be interested in hearing about what your sons had gotten up to today.

From the lost teeth to breakdowns in the grocery store, if you could name it the event probably happened.

Yet your words didn’t harbour the response you hoped “I don’t go to work for you guys to sit on your fucking asses all day!” Mat hadn’t noted when his frustration on his day morphed into frustration about you.

At this point one of the twins began crying “sitting on my ass?” You let out a laugh “do you know how hard it is to raise these boys myself?” You crossed your arms. You loved your kids but you were getting spread far too thin to keep yourself afloat.

Now you had both clearly gone too far “from where I stand it’s a pretty easy job.” Those words came with a slash of a knife that couldn’t exactly be taken back.

The look on your face in that very moment was one that Mat hadn’t seen before “if you think it is so easy then you take the kids tomorrow.” You proposed with a smirk “what are you gonna do?” Mat couldn’t believe that he was entertaining your thoughts.

Quickly the penny dropped in your head “the girls haven’t seen me in months. They want to go to a spa.” You raised your eyebrows with a smirk “deal.” Mat nodded his head as he reached his hand out to shake yours.

Part of you found it sad to believe that this was what you had gotten to “where are you going?” Mat wrapped his hand around your arm as you went to move away “to deal with our crying child because it clearly seems that you aren’t planning on it!” You shot back clenching your fists as you walked into the playroom.

Whilst you spent the night taking care of your boys tucking them in Mat was on the phone to Anthony debriefing the events that had happened “you were an ass dude.” The younger boy rolled his eyes as he rubbed his hand along his jaw.

Years ago you would have been Anthony’s dream girl, you were Anthony’s dream girl but when Mat won you the younger boy took his defeat gracefully “look I can’t exactly go and tell her I fucked up now?” Mat grumbled as he stared at the ring in the box.

Six years of dating and three kids to show for it yet no ring on your finger, or at least not yet “sorry dude.” Anthony apologised as he shook his head “you have to lie in the bed that you have made.” He shrugged seeing Mat’s face soaked in regret.

So Mat got to watch as he realised the consequences of his actions “I will say that she does love you just as much as she loves those kids.” As godfather to all three Tito could see just how much all three of those kids meant to you “so if y/n is y/n then I suggest you start looking for the checklists.” The comment about your organisation skills made both boys laugh.

Getting to watch you craft the step by step lists that you loved so much made Mat’s days “I should get going.” The Islander player sighed seeing the bedroom door open as your body appeared.

You sent Mat an awkward smile as you watched him throw his phone to the side “hey-” Mat spoke up as you went to your closet.

Pulling random items of clothing together you tried to ignore your boyfriend “the boys are down.” You announced grabbing onto some old band tee that you had found in your closet “so I’m going to sleep in the guest room tonight.” Mat wanted to argue, he wanted you in his bed because as much as you so badly wanted him to feel a of the ounce of the stress that you had felt dealing with the rough parts of the single parenting lifestyle this week.

But instead he watched on “you sure?” Were the only words that he could find in his mind that his mouth would let out.

It was a far cry from the fight you wanted him to put up “I thought I’d been sleeping with a guy who wanted to see me today, but since that isn’t the case I’d rather be alone.” You sent Mat a nod feeling too tired to cause a fight tonight.

The guest bedroom was bleak in comparison to your bedroom. The walls were decorated yet the love that had been soaked into the walls of your room hadn’t been carried to the very room that you sat in.

Playing with the beaten up hem of the band tee you had grabbed only now realising the memories that had woven themselves into the stitched fabric.

This was more than just a simple shirt to you and Mat. This was the first shirt you stole from him, the shirt you were in when he asked you to move in. The one when you went into labour with Zack. If something could capture your relationship. It was that shirt.

ABBA blared through the speakers of your apartment as you danced to it. Mat had been on a road trip for the last two weeks and you being heavily pregnant you were in nothing but Mat’s shirt.

The boy ended up arriving quietly as you couldn’t hear him over the sound of the music “holy shit!” You clutched at your chest as you locked eyes with the boy “I was just starting to enjoy that show.” Mat frowned as he pushed off from against the doorframe.

His hands ran over your stomach as he smiled “missed you.” His words were soft as he kissed your lips.

You looked like a sight for sore eyes in his shirt “missed you too.” You smiled as you ran your finger over his cheek.

So you couldn’t help it when you stared in the mirror and watched on as tears welled in your eyes making you unlock your phone “momma.” You sobbed as the call connected “Mat and I had a fight.”

When Mat woke up that next morning the mix of the irritated looks on the twins faces and the lack of your presence on the other side of the bed served as a reminder for the events of the previous night.

Oscar was the first to speak up “we’re gonna be late.” He pointed to the clock making Mat’s eyes go wide “where is your mom?” Mat groaned rubbing his eyes as the sleep caught in his fingers.

Marcus pulled the note out of his pyjama shorts pocket “momma gave this to me.” Of course you had gone and kissed the boys before you left to head to New Jersey for the day.

𝒯𝓌𝒾𝓃𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓊𝓅 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓃𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒵𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝒹𝑜𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓃𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝑒. 𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒.

Getting both boys dressed was one thing but almost forgetting that Zack was asleep in his cot truly took the cake “forgetting someone?” Oscar furrowed his eyebrows as he pointed at the picture of the three boys you had taken for Christmas “fuck me!” Mat pinched the bridge of his nose “swear jar!” The twins spoke at the same time as they watched Mat run back upstairs.

Mat had realised that he had truly screwed up when the boys didn’t even say goodbye to him when they left “tell mom we miss her.” Oscar mumbled as he let the car door shut with a slam behind him.

Zack was peacefully playing with the toy that Marcus had dropped into his hands “you okay buddy?” Mat looked into the rear view mirror to see that his youngest was now looking back at him “mama!” Zack cooed as he let out a giggle “I know, I miss her too.” The hockey player let out a sigh as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel in front of him.

You let the warm water of the jacuzzi calm your nerves as you peacefully sipped on your mimosa “so what did Mat do?” Maisie asked as she cocked her head.

It pulled your attention away from the bubbling water “what makes you think that he did something?” You shot back ignoring her smirk “it’s been three years since we last went to the spa. What has your husband done to bring you back here?” Before kids the spa was a bimonthly tradition for the two of you.

Maisie sighed as you kept quiet “boyfriend and we fought.” You corrected her looking down at your bare ring finger “tell me what happened.” She reached out to hold your hand “basically-” you were cut off by the sound of your phone ringing “hello?” You asked quickly answering it.

“I know you said that Mr Barzal was picking the boys up today but the boys are still here.” It was forty minutes after the boys were meant to be picked up “I’ll be right there.” You cursed the universe as you got up.

Water ran down your body “Mat forgot the twins at school.” You explained shaking your head “I’m sorry but I have to-” stress made your cheeks turn red “go, I’ll come with.” Maisie didn’t even have you finish talking before she followed you out of there.

Mat bounced Zack in his arms as they walked back to the car “what does your mom want?” Mat furrowed his eyebrows to see that you had sent him twenty missed calls.

You didn’t let him get a word in “Mat you have done some stupid things in your life but this truly takes the cake.” You spat pinching the bridge of your nose.

Thankfully for you the twins always assumed that you were the one meant to pick them up so they didn’t realise that they had been forgotten about “hi dad!” Marcus giggled from the back of the car “shit.” Mat slapped his hand over his mouth “swear jar!”

Mat knew he had screwed up once more “Zack had a good check up and that ear infection is gone!” The hockey player let out an awkward sigh as he watched Zack babble on to himself.

You wanted to yell at him but for now you were going to have to remain quiet “we can talk about it at home.” You hung up before Mat could say anything more to you “I think momma’s gonna kill me.” Mat groaned shaking his head as he placed Zack into his car seat.

Maisie had kept you calm until she left wanting to give you a moment to gather your thoughts before Mat came home “mama!” Zack cooed as the front door opened.

He was happy on his fathers hip until he saw you “he didn’t take his bottle today.” Mat explained as Zack reached out to grab you “it’s because he’s teething.” You explained handing your baby the teething toy you had grabbed when you heard the door open.

That served as another reminder to Mat about your strengths as a parent “where are the boys?” Guilt began to consume him as he thought about what he had done to the twins “playroom.” You tilted your head in their direction.

Mat sent you a nod “can we talk?” He pleaded wanting everything to go back to how it was.

All of his teammates had sent him messages expressing how they were on your side because Mat fucked up “you go talk to your sons, I’m gonna feed this one.” You shook your head not agreeing with him “then we can talk.” You sent him a soft smile before you walked upstairs wanting to feed Zack in peace.

The twins were forever on your side no matter how much they missed their father “you know mom told Nana.” Oscar knew about his grandmother’s distaste for Mat. She always did believe that her daughter deserved more than a hockey player who was keeping her in New York.

Mat frowned at the news “I’m sorry I’ve been really shitty to you both.” He apologised watching the twins look at each other with a smirk “I know I’ll put another dollar in the swear jar.” He added in a predictable tone.

The twins got up when their father dropped his head to stare at the ground as he crouched in front of them “I think we can let you get a free pass.” Oscar announced wrapping his arms around Mat “but only if you go apologise to mom.” Marcus added on replicating his brothers actions “yeah I miss moms waffles.” Oscars complaints brought a smile to Mat’s face.

It made him laugh as he nodded “I think I can find a way to make sure you guys get those.” The boys let out a cheer at the news.

Zack had fallen asleep the moment he finished eating “can we talk?” Mat asked as he knocked on the door to see you sat on the bed as you folded laundry.

Your absolute definition of the worst thing on the planet.

Mat laughed as he watched you scrunched up your face reacting to how he folded clothes “you got something you want to say?” Mat raised his eyebrows as he placed his boxers on the table in front of him.

You sighed “you’re doing it wrong.” You shook your head as you reached out to fix what he had done.

It made him smirk “what?” You looked for an answer to his amused expression “as someone who hates folding laundry you are doing a pretty good job.” Mat pointed out as he crossed his arms.

Your mouth formed an o as you let out a gasp “cause you’re doing it wrong!” You threw his boxers at him “want to show me the right way to do it?” You raised your eyebrows as you heard his offer “if that was to get me into your bed once more-” your relationship with the boy had only been going on for a few weeks but you had been friends for years.

The hockey player grabbed your hand as he pulled you onto his lap “then I’d have to try a lot less to be a lot more successful.” Mat brushed his hand along your cheek “I’d like to see you try.” You let out a squeal when he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom.

When Mat’s body weight pressed against the mattress it pulled you away from that memory “I don’t know how you do that everyday.” Mat blurted out as he looked at you.

It brought you some comfort hearing his apology “you are incredible and I was stupid.” The hockey player continued as he ran his fingers through his hair “that’s one way to put it.” You let out a soft laugh “I’m so sorry for everything I did.” Mat reached out to grab your hand.

You smiled at the contact “thank you.” Your voice was soft as you sent him a smile “and I promise I will never leave our children at school again.” His words made you laugh “I’m not letting you live that one down.” You shook your head as he grinned “thought as much.”

Both of you remained silent for a moment just enjoying the peace “I appreciate your apology.” You mumbled fiddling with your nails.

Mat stopped you as he forced your fingers down to the mattress “I have something I need to tell you.” The hockey player announced reaching over to his bedside cabinet.

You shook your head stopping him “I have something to say first.” Amit the chaos that was yesterday you failed to tell Mat the news “you go first then.” He let the box drop into his drawer as he waited to hear what it was that you had to say.

He smiled as he watched you run into the bathroom with a smile on your face “Zack was meant to wear this really cute onesie that I ordered when I thought about this but-” Mat cut you off as he got up to follow you “just spit it out.” His voice was soft as he sent you a thumbs up.

You showed him the pregnancy test as you chewed at the inside of your cheek “say something?” Somehow you were more nervous about showing it to him now than you had for any of the other three pregnancies combined.

Mat pursed his lips together “I was going to say this to you in a few minutes but I’ll do it now.” A moment truly hadn’t felt better than this one did.

He dropped to his knee “I can’t see my life without you and today cemented that more than any other did.” Mat confessed making you smile “the ring is in my drawer-” he rambled making you grin “just ask me so I can say yes you big goof!” You kneeled as you smiled locking your hand with his.

“Marry me so I can spend the rest of my life with you?”

Eight and a half months later

Mat and you enjoyed the last moments of silence as you stared at your newest edition of the family.

But of course the moment had to end eventually when Anthony opened the door with the twins and Zack in tow “is my goddaughter everything we thought she would be and more?” Anthony smiled as he carried a bouquet in his hands as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

Mat nodded crouching down to show the boys their sister “couldn’t have said it better myself.” He nodded knowing that this was going to be the child that was truly going to wrap everyone around her finger.

#mat barzal imagines #mat barzal oneshot #nhl oneshots #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey oneshots #oneshots #imagines #amber writes fics

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taetr4ck · 20 days

Note

Not a request but WHICH SKZ/NCT MEMBER WOULD YOU FIGHT GO!

a/n : i just opened my tumblr after a good whole week and this is what i first read FUCK IT WE BALL ! doing all of them because i feel a bit silly today

contents under the cut

STRAY KIDS

BANG CHAN - no. this is self explanatory tbh. i would straight up ask him to marry me

LEE KNOW - i would. but in return he would tell me how much my parents wrecked my whole being so i'll end up tearing up in the corner

CHANGBIN - one slap from this man and i'm already out of this world. he can literally slap me and the next second i'm already in the fifth dimension. no words needed. i would not fight him.

HYUNJIN - i would and then fall in love in the process

HAN - how could i fight this man ? RUTHLESS.

FELIX - i don't have the heart to tbh. i'll cry before i even land my first hit

SEUNGMIN - big yes tbh. i feel like he's the perfect person to pick a fight with. our competitive ass won't give up so easily unless one of us isn't breathing anymore LMFAO

JEONGIN - this man would stab me before i even know it

NCT 127

TAEIL - one glare from this man and i'm already shivering. 50/50.

JOHNNY - i should be punished for forgetting to put him here. what was i thinking !!!! anyway !! i feel like he would be the one to initiate the fight LMFAO he would straight up come to me and just do a ‘let’s do a square’ ‘aight bet’ kind of interaction tbh he would be the funniest person to pick a fight with. i would fight him. he’d be my sparring buddy afterwards

TAEYONG - bro he's about to do his military service leave him alone 😭🙏🏻 poor bubu i would not fight him

MARK - i would. then we will start throwing rap verses (special mention to jopping) like we didn't almost stabbed each other earlier

JAEHYUN - one punch and my skull is already cracked in half. nope

YUTA - i would just straight up kiss him tbh i would not last for five seconds looking at him

DOYOUNG - he would verbal abuse me tbh that's enough to wreck me

HAECHAN - one michael jackson merch for him and he's wrecked so easily. i would fight him.

JUNGWOO - boy this man would bring a baseball bat even though we agreed to have a fist fight. cheater. i would fight him

NCT DREAM

RENJUN - his glare is enough to kill me. 50/50.

JENO - man idc this is jeno we are talking about !!!! he can punch me in the face and i would not bulge !!!!

CHENLE - man he is the worst person to fight. one word from him and i’m already having a mental breakdown. he would unwrap every inch of my traumas from childhood to present. i won't risk it 🫡

JAEMIN - no because we will have our silly little tea party while talking about cute and pretty things

JISUNG - the idea itself makes us both want to cry

WAYV

KUN - he's too good to pick a fight with. my conscience could never

TEN - big yes. put those slutty muscles to work boy !

HENDERY - we would have a fight in valorant and i'd lose. can't risk my reputation for that smh (kidding)

XIAOJUN - this man would straight up launch at me like a fuckin dog. i would fight him (affectionately)

WINWIN - no. i would ask him to be his gf. no explanation needed

YANGYANG - we would have a pillow fight and the next second he's already holding a brick. i said let's have a pillow fight not give me a fucking concussion 😭🙏🏻

should i add my taglist here omg

⋆ taetr4ck, est may 2023. / requests open

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cockslutpadalecki · 8 months

Text

But The Flesh Is Always Weak

Summary: It’s been a week since Andy broke things off, but to you, it feels like a lifetime.

Characters: Professor!Andy Barber x Student!Reader.

Words: 3K.

Warnings: teacher/student relationship, possessive behaviour, unhinged behaviour, gaslighting, manipulation, a face slap, throat grabbing, hate sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), forced orgasm, throat fucking, 18+. MINORS DNI.

A/N: The last visit to these two… well, for now. Thought I’d had better get round to posting this! You can read the rest of their story here. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.

It’s only been a week since Andy broke things off, citing, “You should be dating boys your own age,” but it feels like a lifetime. A lifetime spent in hell.

Every passing minute hurts. Every waking thought is plagued by his words and his touch on your skin. You drive yourself crazy, crying to the point of exhaustion before you wake up and do it all over again.

You can’t eat; you can’t sleep. Your chest aches with every breath you take without him, and quite often as you clutch at it in the midst of another breakdown, you wonder if dying from a broken heart is possible.

You shuffle through each day like a zombie, mindless with no real destination in mind— just wandering around waiting for something to distract you.

It’s not until you get an email from him nine days in— addressed not only to you, but the Dean— that the agony seems to lessen slightly at the sight of his name.

“I’m reaching out as you haven’t been to class for the past week and a half. I’m growing concerned for your wellbeing as this is just not like you. Please get in touch as soon as possible.”

It becomes an olive branch that you obsess over, desperately trying to seek out any hidden message he could be attempting to send. But after days of searching, you have nothing to show for your efforts and you begin to resent him.

Anger bubbles up in place of your heartache— a strange sense of still needing him like you need air, but at the same time, wishing you could hurt him just as badly as he has hurt you.

You can’t believe he has the audacity to show concern like he’s not solely responsible for shattering your world into a million tiny irreparable pieces, without a shred of noticeable apathy.

The driving force that propels you to attend his class surprises even you. You wake before your alarm, eager to dress in the outfit you excitedly picked the night before. Your stomach flutters as you walk through campus, feeling the most clear-headed you have in days. You can’t wait to see him.

You feel a little giddy at the prospect of seeing evidence of the breakup on his face— perhaps red-rimmed eyes or melancholy preventing his smile from reaching his lips, but he somehow looks better now than before.

He doesn’t bat an eyelid when you slink into the hall while he’s mid-speech. He barely acknowledges your presence when you hand him your overdue essay; a secret love note slipped in between the pages just like you used to do.

But what stings the most is that he doesn’t stop you from leaving when class is over. It’s like you don’t exist. Like the past nine months meant nothing, along with the litany of promises he’s already broken.

He’s doing fine and you’re not? How is that fair? your mind screams as you glance over your shoulder, catching Rebecca hovering around his desk like a common house fly, buzzing around shit.

You pause in the doorway, your stomach dropping like lead when Andy finally approaches her, and places his hand delicately on her arm.

And as he flashes her a wide grin, all of the momentum inside you deflates— the hurt and pain he has caused you morphs into pure rage.

The following evening, you know he’ll be alone at home. Five times you try to talk yourself out of going, but the overriding consensus eventually wins— he won’t be able to turn you away on his own doorstep. You just want to talk to him.

Maybe ask if he’s replaced you with Rebecca yet.

You pull up outside his neighbors’ and switch off the engine, gathering up the courage to get out when you notice movement at the front door. Andy steps outside, but he’s not alone.

You’ve only seen her— his wife— in photographs, and you actually hate that she’s more beautiful in person. Part of you wonders why Andy would betray her, but then you remember all of the horror stories he would tell you.

Her beauty is only skin deep.

From the things you know about their relationship— how strained it is— it surprises you when he wraps his arm around her shoulder, leaning in to kiss her hair as they walk to his car. They’re laughing, smiling without a care in the world. From this vantage point, they look and act like newlyweds. You feel sick as you keep watching, noticing the way he gently pats her ass when she climbs into the passenger seat.

The same passenger seat you’ve sat in countless times on drives back from secret trysts in dingy motel rooms, while your cunt still throbs.

Just before he gets into the car, he looks over his shoulder and for a wild moment, you swear he locks eyes with you from across the street.

He’s brought her here. The same place you used to have dinner. For a moment it feels like a knife wound to the heart that he would have the audacity to share this with her, but then you realise he has to be sending you a message. He must know you’ve followed him and he’s trying to communicate with you covertly so as not to draw attention to it.

Your stomach flutters, feeling a heavy sense of relief wash over you.

He still cares. He still wants you.

For an hour, you sit in the parking lot before you regret drinking so much soda on your way here, needing desperately to pee. You know you could go to the mall across the street, but your feet pull you towards the restaurant before you can stop them.

You make your way to the restroom, careful to avoid their table, and just as you’re about to leave, you spot Andy making his way towards you. Your heart leaps into your chest and you double back, waiting for the moment he’ll come bursting in, overwhelmed with joy at the sight of you.

Nothing but silence follows, except for the dull thud of the men’s door opening and closing.

Naughty. He wants you to go to him.

Giggling, you sneak out of the women’s and push open the door to the men’s restroom, confused a little when you don’t spot Andy at the urinals. You’re about to retreat when you hear his familiar whistle, remembering all the mornings after the night before where you’d wake up to the sound of him in the en suite, whistling his favorite tune.

He knows you’re listening. Dropping breadcrumbs in the hopes you’ll follow the trail right to his feet. And as you slip through the small gap between the door and frame, you hungrily swallow down every piece.

You wait until he’s finished in the stall before making yourself known. You don’t want to frighten him but as he begins to turn in the small space, ready to leave, he spots you in the doorway and nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Jesus, what the fuck!” he half shouts, half whispers.

“Oh god, I missed you,” you gush. Andy stares wide-eyed at you when you rush towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso. You inhale deeply and revel in his familiar smell, the scent enveloping you like a hazy dream. It feels so good to be so close to him again. Pulling back, you gaze up at him before rising onto your tiptoes, preparing to place a kiss on his lips.

He quickly intervenes, pushing you away. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I wanted to see you so I went to your office, but you weren’t there so I thought I’d go by your house,” you reply simply, like he’s just asked you what two plus two is.

“Th-that still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

You shrug. “I saw you getting in the car, so I followed you.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I wanted to see where you were going, silly,” you giggle. “Bet you couldn’t imagine my surprise when you brought her to our place,” you add a little sharply.

“Actually, I used to come here…” he pauses before continuing with, “y’know, before.”

The metaphorical knife in your chest twists at his words, but you manage to recover quickly.

“It’s okay,” you smile, “I can let that go.”

You reach out for his hand, loving the softness, but inexplicably rough of his skin on yours. He allows it for a moment, running his thumb over yours before snatching it away.

“You can’t be here.”

“Afraid she’ll catch us?” you sidle up to him with a cute laugh. “Is this a new thing you want us to try?” Gently, you cup him through his pants and a wave of heat ripples through your gut. Andy hisses, his cock stirring against you as you squeeze gently, encouraging it to swell. “C’mon, don’t you remember the risks we used to take?” You rise up again, kissing the underside of his bottom lip. Even his beard feels amazing brushing across your chin.

He snaps, yelling, “No!” as he pushes you away, yet again.

Sudden hot tears gather in your eyes at his outburst and a horrid realization sets in. “Have you really moved on already?”

“How can I move on from something we never really had in the first place?” he brutally admits.

Ouch.

“But you promised me the world,” you start tearfully, “why would you choose her over me?”

Andy’s brow furrows. “She’s my wife.”

So? “That didn’t seem to matter when you were fucking me in her bed.”

White hot pain explodes across your cheek as the sound of the slap follows. Your hand shoots up to cradle the area, your skin throbbing. Fresh tears form as you try to stop yourself from crying with a loud sniff.

Andy steps to you, covering your hand with his. You’ve never seen him look so apologetic, even after he dumped you. “I’m sorry, fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have— that was wrong.”

You stare up at him, wide-eyed as he comforts you, asking if you’re okay. You just nod slowly, unable to find the words. This is what you needed to prove he still cares.

“What we did, we shouldn’t have done,” he says softly. “I took advantage of you.”

“Was it really taking advantage when I wanted you too?”

Andy smiles kindly, stroking your hand with his thumb. “I can’t give you what you want. You need someone who will treat you like you deserve.”

“Why would I want anybody else?” you counter back with a shake of your head.

He lifts his hand from yours and places them both on his hips with a heavy sigh. “I know it’s hard to get over somebody you care about, but with time, it will get easier.” He reaches out, tenderly rubs your bicep as a form of comfort. He looks awkward doing it, like he’s afraid to touch you, when he’s touched you— fucked you in more intimate places than most boys would even be able to find on a map.

Is he recounting that from experience? Is he telling you he’s not really over you either despite his insistence he is?

“I don’t want time, I don’t want it to get easier. I just want you.”

Andy rubs his fingers into his eyes and lets go of an exasperated huff. “Listen to me,” he glances up, lips tight in a frown, “I’ve tried to be nice about it, but this is the last time I’m gonna say this. We’re over.”

Your cheek smarts as your jaw tightens and the rage you’ve managed to suppress bubbles up. “Then I guess I’ll just have to tell everyone you hit me.”

He stares down at you in contempt for the first time ever, his features twisted in disgust. “That was an accident, I didn’t mean to do it, you know that.”

“Was it though?” You give him a teasing pout. “‘Mr. Barber came onto me, slapped me when I said no’,” you put on a sad voice before it returns to normal. “Sounds like an open and shut case to me.”

“Don’t you understand how damaging those accusations would be?” he spits, incensed. “I would lose my job, my marriage, everything.”

You smile at him, giddy. “But then we could be together for real! No college to prosecute you for fucking a student and she’d divorce you, it’s perfect.”

The ire on Andy’s face contorts into sheer bafflement. “You crazy bitch, you’ve lost your fucking mind.” He tries to shuffle past you, but you block his way. “Get out of my way before I move you myself.”

“What are you going to do, Sir?” you taunt. “Hit me again?”

He lunges forward, hand wrapped around your throat and forces you up against the wall of the stall. “Don’t tempt me,” he breathes out heavily, gazing down at your body until his eyes meet yours once again. “Why I ever thought getting involved with you was a good idea, I’ll never know.”

“Because, and I quote, ‘no other pussy could ever come close’,” you manage to croak out from beneath his grip. Reaching out, you cup him through his pants and he hisses between gritted teeth.

Andy swats your hand away, but you quickly grab hold of his, shoving it beneath the hem of your dress. You let out a moan as his fingers brush up against your damp panties.

You see the way Andy’s eyes flicker at the contact, the slight loss of control when his fingers flex around your throat. You move his hand up and down your clothed cunt, letting go of tiny whimpers as flames of heat begin burning through your core.

“Touch me,” you beg. “Please.”

His jaw ticks like he’s fighting with himself, growling under his breath as you use his hand to pluck your panties to the side.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you purr. “Show me how much you’ve missed my tight little cunt.”

Closing his eyes, he mutters, “Stop,” but makes no attempt to pull away.

He wants this just as much as you.

And when you finally manipulate his fingers inside you, you can feel the resistance ebb as he starts to fight for control and eventually you let go, confident in the knowledge he’s not going to pull away. You reach for him and unzip his pants, the warmth of his cock meeting your fingertips as you slip your hand inside the gap.

“Remember how good I used to make you feel,” you whisper with delicacy.

He doesn’t respond, instead choosing to stare at you the entire time, face tight with disdain as the sloppy wet sounds of your cunt fill the tiny stall. Legs trembling, you can feel your orgasm beginning to crest. The pressure in your gut becomes too much. You push at his hand to move it away, but Andy doesn’t stop.

“No. You wanted this, so you’re gonna come,” he tells you sharply. “Do it.”

“I c-can’t.”

“You will.” He leans in, capturing your lips in a wet kiss as he presses the base of his palm against your clit, and you unravel like a spool of thread.

You’re still coming as he removes his hands from your body, hurriedly lifting you up around his waist. He’s inside you in one swift stroke, stuffing you to the brim for a split second before he’s pulling back out.

He fucks you like he hates you. Mean, hard thrusts that push you back against the stall until your spine physically aches from the force. You embrace it— every bruise, every welt— the pain reminds you of how close you came to losing him, and you promise yourself that it won’t happen again.

Another wave of heat builds steadily beneath your skin, tingling all the way down to your toes. This time, you welcome the overstimulation, squirting all over his cock with a heady moan.

“Oh fuck,” he growls into the juncture of your neck, teeth nipping at your skin. “God, holy shit.” Andy roughly pulls out, and drops you to your feet. He tugs on his dick as you move to kneel before him, presenting your tongue like a dog waiting for a treat.

Andy grabs your hair, tugging hard on the roots as he shoves his cock to the back of your throat and you gag from the lack of warning. He fucks your mouth, exploding messily across your tongue with a strained grunt, stray droplets of cum spilling out from the corner of your lips, unable to lick them away.

Your throat throbs when he retreats, and blessed air rushes back into your lungs with an almighty whoosh. Eventually, he loosens his grip on your skull and leans into the stall with his palm, eyes firmly closed. His breathing is still jagged and unsteady as he repeats, “fuck,” to himself as the enormity of the situation comes crashing down around him.

Finally, his eyes flicker open, the pure disgust and conviction returning to his expression as he stares down at you, and you know what he’s going to say before he says it.

“This is it,” he states curtly. You slowly rise to your feet in the small gap, leaning in to kiss him but he pulls back.

“Don’t be like that, Daddy,” you pout. “You used to love tasting yourself on my lips.”

His jaw tightens in frustration as he snaps, “I mean it,” and your name rolls off his tongue like molasses.

“Okay,” you smirk with a light shrug, triumphant that despite his insistence, you know it won’t be. You have leverage and Andy, of all people, should know that's the golden ticket. You slip from the stall without another word, taking a moment to check yourself out in the mirror before turning to press a finger to your lips. Grabbing the door handle, you yank it open without bothering to check if anyone is around before sauntering out, a little limp new to your gait.

***

ALL CE: @buckymydarlingangel @broadwaybabe18 @captain-asguard @chamberofsloths @cevansgurl @dreamlessinparis @deanwinchesterswitch @fandom-princess-forevermore @hurricanerin @kellhems @ladybug05 @mugi-chwan95 @navybrat817 @otomefromtheheart @oneoftheprettynerds @patzammit @rebel-stardust @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @sammykb1994 @syrenavenger @saiyanprincessswanie @sunwardsss @selfsun @threeminutesoflife @vicmc624 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @wintasssoldier @xoxonotme

4EVS: @amirra88 @andreasworlsboring101 @b3autyfuldisast3r @cheesyclaire @chibijusstuff @callsignrambam @dangertoozmanykids101 @daughterofthenight117 @doozywoozy @foxyjwls007 @geekofmanyforms @heyyouwiththeassbutt @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @ilovefanfic86 @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @letsby @letsdisneythings @labella420 @mogaruke @maliburenee @notyourtypicalrose @nik2write @obsessivelycapricious @patrick-hockslutter @princessmisery666 @phildunphyisadilf @sage-writing @sea040561 @sweeterthanthis @slutformarvelmen @smokeandnailz @stoneyggirl @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @thegirlnextdoorssister @wayward-dreamer @warriorqueen1991 @xoxabs88xox

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #defending jacob fanfiction #dark!reader #chris evans fanfiction

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moni-logues · 10 months

Text

Kintsugi 4

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 8.1k

Content: none! there is no content lmaooo nah there is just none that needs to be warned for, I don't think, so enjoy freely!!!!!

A/N: I know, I know, it's taken an age but here we are!! And I'm honestly kind of nervous to see how people react!!!! huge thank you to my betas @blog-name-idk @amethystwritesbts and @here2bbtstrash

Chapter Three | Masterlist | Chapter Five

Chapter Four – Someone Old, Someone New

The message came in shortly after lunch.

Mei.97: hey girl! Long time no see!!! I’m going to be in Seoul this week, pleeeeaaasse tell me you’re free for dinner tomorrow?!!? It’s been too long!!! Xxx

You had to read the message twice to be sure you were reading it right. You hadn’t heard from Mei—an old university friend—since your first ‘breakdown’. You wondered what on earth she could want. But you weren’t in any position to be turning down an outreached hand.

You: sure! It would be great to see you!

A few months ago, that would have been a huge lie. Now, it was only a little one. You weren’t looking forward to having to smooth over the details of your breakdown, or your break-up, but you had been close as students and it would be easier with her—she moved back to Busan after graduating, so you could put a little bit of the blame for your losing contact on that, too. You knew you weren’t quite there yet, but you felt like you were healing, you were making progress; you sometimes even felt, on occasion, pretty good about life. And you wanted to share that.

The first thing you heard upon walking into the bar you had suggested was the loud screech of your name. Then Mei was running over. You had barely even noticed her before she was wrapping her long arms around you in a huge hug. Her hair was as long and silky as it had ever been; she was still wearing the same perfume she always used to wear, and too much of it, as she always had; she looked almost exactly the same, except a little richer, a little chicer, like someone who had truly settled into themselves. She outshone the whole restaurant and looked as if she didn’t notice, as she always used to. The real world didn’t seem to have dimmed any of her at all. You were pleased with yourself that this didn’t make you completely sick with envy.

“Girl, oh my god, it is so good to see you! You look amazing! I can’t believe it; you’ve barely changed! Love the hair, though,” she announced to basically the whole bar.

You’d forgotten that she was possibly the only person in the world who was louder and talked more than you did. You’d forgotten how much you liked her. You had no need to be nervous, you realised, because it would never occur to her to judge someone; she just wasn’t that sort of person because she wouldn’t even have the time for it. She was more than just a rolling stone: this rolling stone had an engine and jet fuel.

“I ordered a bottle of wine because I wasn’t sure if you were still into the same drinks and I figured, wine is a safe option, right? You want some?” she asked but she was already pouring into your glass. “Tell me everything, babe. It has been so long. What is up?”

You took a deep breath. Where to start?

You marvelled at how painless the night had been. It was fun. Somehow, despite all the discussion you’d had about your life since university, your life now, it wasn’t painful. Not really. Mei was single, too, and courting every man in Busan before her parents tightened the screws on her to settle down. She was enjoying working for the family business (if a corporation can be called merely a ‘business’). She was earning a salary that made you wince and made her promise dinner was on her. You were doing reasonably well in your career, too, actually. You were earning enough to live in Seoul on your own. Things weren’t perfect, but Mei was such a positive and enthusiastic steam-roller that she made you feel like you were thriving, not wilting. She was exactly what you needed.

You were just wishing that she didn’t have to leave Seoul, that she could move and stay forever when she took her ice-cream spoon from her mouth and looked sheepishly at her empty bowl.

“I have a confession to make,” she began. “I had a teeny ulterior motive for asking you to dinner.”

Your stomach lurched.

“Oh?”

“You remember my cousin Sungbin? He came to visit that time at uni?”

“The one we had to carry back to your room?”

“You mean the one we had to find someone else to carry back to my room?”

“Yes!” You laughed. “Yes, I remember! How could I forget?”

He was a sweet, tall drink of water who accepted every shot and drink foisted on him by his cousin and her friends until he passed out in the bar. You and Mei had dragged him through the streets of Hongdae asking every passerby if they could help you get him home. You didn’t remember who actually helped or much of the rest of the night, but that arduous 100-meter drag was almost as painful as your hangover had been the following day.

“What about him?”

“Ok, so my uncle is retiring, right? He’s still going to be on the board but he’s retiring from his actual position so, of course, Sungbin, oldest son, he’s got to step up. He's moving to the big city, girl! Taking up a position at the HQ here. My ulterior motive is me asking you a huge favour.”

“What’s the favour?”

“He doesn’t know anyone here, right? Never lived here before. Would you maybe like, take him out for drinks or lunch or something – super casual, no big deal! – just so he’s got a friendly face? Give him some recommendations for stuff, I don’t know, just so he doesn’t feel overwhelmed and on his own?”

You didn’t really know how to feel about it. Of course, you would. Of course, you would be happy to take Sungbin out, show him around, help him if he needed. You felt flattered that Mei would even ask you, that she thought you would be up to the job. That she thought of you at all, to be honest. Had you not just been thinking that you needed new friends? And now one was landing straight in your lap.

It all felt a little too good to be true. It was too easy. Things had been too easy recently; this was just too much good, surely? You weren’t used to this. It felt wrong. Made you anxious. And, usually, that anxiety made you make things worse all on your own. But your therapist had told you to stop looking for the bad, to trust the good, appreciate its presence. You could do that. Right? You could do that.

“Yeah, sure! Of course, I can take him out.”

Mei dramatically fell to the table in relief and held tight to both your arms.

“You are an angel! Thank you! Here’s the bad part, though: any chance you can do it tomorrow? I’m leaving in the morning and he’s going to be on his own for the first time since moving-”

“Oh, he’s already here?”

“Yeah! That’s why I’m here, girly! I helped him move! Any chance you’re free tomorrow?”

You didn’t know how to say yes without letting her know that you were the sort of person who had no plans at the weekend but you didn’t want to say no because you were the sort of person who had no plans, and it would be nice to get out of the apartment. You did not look into the fact that she was asking you this last-minute, assuming you would have no plans already. You shrugged.

“Yeah, I can do drinks or something tomorrow night?”

“Babe, you are my favourite person in this whole world. I’m going to give you his number; just text him. He doesn’t know anyone here so he literally has nothing better to do and I’ve already told him I’d put you guys in touch.”

From anyone else, that might have prickled a little; the assumptions might have rubbed you the wrong way, but Mei was relentlessly optimistic, having never had any real hardship in her life (she would admit to this, too), so she had never had any reason to believe that things wouldn’t go the way she expected. Far from wanting to burst her bubble, you wanted to protect her naivety. Because you wished you could have it, too.

As you walked and subwayed and walked home, you thought about Mei and her life, and your life, and how different things could be. You wondered who you would be if you weren’t so broken, if your head could just have got its shit together—rather, if your head had never gone to shit in the first place. Would you have been like Mei? Would life have found another way to break you? Were things destined or was everyone, including the universe, just making things up as they went along?

Could you ever be like Mei? Was anyone like her? Did she have secret pain?

It wasn’t lost on you, the possibility that she wasn’t as happy-go-lucky as she seemed. The shock and surprise of everyone you knew when you ended up in hospital was almost the worst part. If you never heard someone say ‘I had no idea!’ again, it would be too soon. You thought about it a lot, how normal you were (or weren’t). You couldn’t believe that everyone else went through life not thinking the things you thought, that everyone else was somehow just able to get on with things without the sometimes-debilitating urge to sink into the floor forever.

You shook your head, because you knew you weren’t supposed to be thinking like this. You’d had a really fun time with an old friend and you were going to have a really fun time tomorrow with a new friend. That was all. There was no need to ruin it by overthinking and second-guessing.

You tapped a finger nervously on the bar as you sat on your stool. You used to come here a lot, or at least semi-frequently, but you hadn’t ventured into this part of the city since you moved out of the apartment you had shared with your ex. He got the apartment, so he got the neighbourhood, too.

You couldn’t really miss it, not on its own, because your life had changed dramatically after the break-up: you moved somewhere else, lost most of your friends, and stopped going out. This was really the only ‘out’ that you knew. And, crucially, it was close enough to Sungbin to become his neighbourhood, too. So here you were, tapping at the bar, staring at the door, trying not to gulp your drink and be drunk before he even arrived.

It was bright and hot and humid. It had rained solidly for three days and the water still hung in the air, clung to your skin, even as the sun tried its best to burn it away. You pressed your palm against your cold glass and tried to will yourself cooler without success. You already felt sticky with sweat and you didn’t know if that was entirely down to the weather, or if your nerves were also to blame.

You knew you didn’t have to be so nervous. What was the worst that could happen? Taehyung had, very patiently, talked you through it: all possible outcomes, all likely scenarios, best- and worst-case situations; he had reminded you that you were an adult human being who knew how to speak to other people. You did. You did know. But it had been a very long time since you had been in this situation. It wasn’t a date. Obviously, it wasn’t a date, but it was the closest you had got to one for many years; you were meeting a man, in a bar, alone. You didn’t know each other; you were hoping he would like you.

You took another gulp of your drink and repeated Taehyung’s words back to yourself. You reminded yourself of how good things were, ran through your gratitude list, tried to persuade yourself not to psych yourself out before the date (it was not a date! NOT. A. DATE.) had even begun.

You had turned from the door, realising how awkward it might be for you to have to stare at each other as he walked towards you and were now just glancing over your shoulder every single time you heard the door open. To stop it being awkward. You had done well to pace yourself and it was as you lifted your glass to your lips for another sip that you heard someone call your name. You turned and came face to face with a man you knew could not be Sungbin.

“Hi,” he said somewhat awkwardly as you continued to drink. “I don’t know if you remember me but I’m Mei’s cousin, Sungbin.”

You gasped as you drank and it all came out in a choke and a splutter and you were blushing and fumbling to put your glass down, find a napkin, rewind time by ten seconds. The napkin came from his hand and you took your time drying your face and hands to try to will your blushes away. You were so embarrassed you could barely look at him.

And there was so much of him to look at. This was not tiny, tall drink of water Sungbin from your university days. He was huge. He must have grown at least six inches taller, not to mention wider. His biceps were the size of thighs and his thighs were almost bursting out of his skinny jeans. You didn’t know where to look.

“You can’t be Sungbin!” you cried. “You’ve got to be the guy that ate him!”

He laughed and tugged at his hair a little self-consciously.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve grown a bit.”

“A bit! You’re... You’re a hulk!”

You were off your stool and gripping his bicep before he’d even finished the sentence—your fingertips didn’t even come close to touching. You were gawking, gaping, ogling this poor man without an attempt to hide it. You gestured broadly to his entire body with your other hand and only when you looked back up did you notice the blush on his face, the awkward way he averted his gaze. You stood back and gasped again, this time without choking.

“I’m so sorry,” you told him. “Oh my god, that was so rude of me. I’m so sorry! What a dickhead! This is a terrible first impression for me to be making!”

“Technically, not a first impression; we have met before.” He chuckled awkwardly. “And I didn’t exactly cover myself in glory then; I was, uh, a little worse for wear, I think.”

“A little?! We were worse for wear; you were... the worst for wear! I’m amazed you survived.”

“The joys of youth. Not sure I’d survive doing it now, just in case you had any ideas.”

“Mei and I could barely get you home then, there is no way on God’s green earth I’d be able to carry you home by myself now! I wouldn’t risk it.”

“So, we’re agreed then: both getting home in one piece?”

You lifted your glass.

“I’ll drink to that!”

You moved from one bar to the next, almost retracing steps you used to take in what felt like your former life. Sungbin paid great attention to where you were going and what else was around, cataloguing his new area, making notes for his new life. Your nerves were long gone, as were his, and you were enjoying a night out with a relative stranger as if you were a real person who did things like this: a real person who made new friends, who went out at the weekend, who had a proper life again. You had to pinch yourself to make sure this was all really happening, that this was all really going well. Your problems felt miles away, lightyears. You wondered if this is what it felt like to be normal. Whole. Fixed. You made a mental note to tell your therapist.

You were on a roof terrace, carpeted with fake grass, decorated with fake flowers. Everything was clean and bright and the sun was still high in the summer sky. It was still a little too warm and a little too sticky, your glasses sweating as well as your bodies, but the lightest of breezes lifted the ends of your hair every now and then, and you couldn’t have imagined a more comfortable feeling than the soft rush of wind across your hot skin. You took seats under a white, wooden pergola where the sunlight was dappled through the fronds twisted along the frame.

This heat usually enervated you, made you lethargic and sloth-like. That night, though, sitting under fake foliage, you felt solar-powered. There was a summer spring in your step. You felt, dare you believe it, like you were glowing. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. A brand new thing. A better thing. Being here, an old place, with Sungbin, a new friend, could have felt awkward, uncomfortable, like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole—you had expected it to—but no. You felt bigger and brighter, not smaller and duller. You were conscious of the possibility of your old life encroaching on your new one, the possibility of running into someone you used to know, but you decided to push those thoughts away. Compartmentalise them. Ignore them. You didn’t need them.

Sungbin was talking about his ex. It was an awkward break-up; they’d not been together long enough for her to move to Seoul with him, or for him to even ask her to, but it had been long enough that it felt significant, felt like throwing something away when they ended things. But he was young and he wasn’t worried. You didn’t say it out loud but you thought to yourself that a man like him surely would never have to worry: looking like he did, having the position he had, being a sweet, polite kind of guy; women would be queueing up for even a chance with him.

“I don’t really miss her that much, because there’s so much going on here that I haven’t really even had the time to. That, if nothing else, tells me it was the right decision for us.”

The words reached your ears but didn’t go in. You could feel your heart pounding hard in your chest and sweat begin to prick in your palms. Your eyes had flicked over the crowd in front of you, people walking in and out, to and from the bar, looking for tables, looking for friends. They had skimmed over the faces of strangers until they hit upon someone familiar. The face had immediately disappeared back into the crowd, but you were sure it was him. It had to be. Why else would your whole body have gone into panic mode? Why else would your legs be like jelly? Why else would your fingers feel numb? A quiet ringing grew louder in your ears and you kept looking for him again, waiting for that dark head above a white shirt to break through the crowd again. You had to be sure it was him.

“Are you ok?”

You wanted to stand. You had to stand and get a better view. You wished it weren’t so busy. Why did it have to be a Saturday night? Why were all these people out?

“Are you ok?”

A touch on your arm drew you back and your head span to Sungbin. He looked confused, concerned.

“I think I saw my ex,” you told him, your voice hoarse.

“Ah. A bad break-up?”

Your eyes had already gone back to the crowd, scanning and searching.

FUCK.

It was him. It really was him. It had to be. It couldn’t be.

“Yeah, no, I don’t know,” you answered vaguely.

You were still staring at him and then his eyes flicked to yours and you flinched so hard you almost knocked over your glass. You turned away, turned back; he looked as surprised as you were. He looked unsure. He looked like he was walking over to you.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you said under your breath, looking at the table, trying to work out how on earth you were going to handle this. You wondered, if you thought hard enough, if you would be able to make yourself disappear. You wondered if you could just run: leg it out of the bar as fast as you could and not look back. You felt dizzy. You felt sick. You felt... drunk. Too drunk. Of all the places and all the times you might have imagined seeing him again, this wasn’t one. This would probably be the very last place you’d have chosen to run into him.

Sungbin’s hand was back on your arm, less tentative now. He scooted his chair closer to yours. His hand slid down your wrist and he tangled his fingers in yours. You could only look at him; you didn’t have the mental capacity to even form the question in your mind.

“Don’t worry,” came his reply. “I got you.”

Then he winked.

“Hi.”

You looked up and there he was. San. Just as he always had been. Maybe his hair was a little shorter, you could kid yourself there was an extra line or two on his face. But it was him, no denying.

“Hi,” you squeaked back.

You were trying to think of all the things you wanted to say to him, trying to think of all the things you could say to him, that would be appropriate to say to him here, in this bar, whilst holding the hand of another man.

“Hi, I’m Sungbin.”

He was confident. He stuck out his free hand and gave San a generous smile.

“Oh, uh, San.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” San turned his face back to you. “How have you been?”

You looked at Sungbin for help: this relative stranger, this potential new friend pretending to be your new boyfriend in front of your old boyfriend, this man who seemed to have much better control of this situation than you did. You could barely think at all. It was a desperate ringing, alarm bells, sirens wailing, a maelstrom of panic. Sungbin smiled at you. You had no idea how long you looked at him before answering, had no sense of time anymore.

“Yeah, fine,” you said, eventually tearing your gaze from Sungbin to stare into San and the sun behind him. Sungbin gave your hand a squeeze. “Good, actually. You?”

“Yeah, same old same old, you know how things are. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Oh, that’s my fault.” Sungbin stepping in to save you again. “I live in the area so I’m always dragging her over this way.”

You stammered for a second, trying to take in San’s surprise and Sungbin’s sweet, encouraging smile.

“Y-yeah, he does,” you confirmed. “I don’t- I don’t mind, though, really.”

“Mm, you always liked this bar. I remember.”

“Yeah.”

You noticed the way San’s eyes flicked to your hands, clasped together on the table, not just once but again and again. You wished you could peer inside his head, know what he was thinking.

You were hardly thinking at all. Your brain was trying so hard to be quick that it had overloaded itself, stalled, got stuck. You couldn’t get over the fact of him, there, in front of you. It had been months. Seasons had changed since you saw him last. You had changed. Could he see that? Did you want him to? Did you want him to miss you? Did you want him to be bothered by Sungbin—gentle giant, Sungbin, holding your hand so casually, talking about you as if you really were together? You tried not to imagine what San was doing there, who he was with. You didn’t know if you would care. You wouldn’t be surprised to learn he was dating. He was a catch, you knew that.

There were too many things happening at once, too many things to process. You felt like you were spinning out of control. What if San knew Sungbin wasn’t your boyfriend? What if he knew this was all pretend? What if he asked more about it? What if everything unravelled before your very eyes and the ground didn’t show mercy and swallow you whole?

“Are you still living around here?” San asked you. “I would’ve expected to see you around more.”

“Oh, uh, no. I’m over the river. I just-…"

You couldn’t commit yourself to the lie, had to let yourself trail off just looking at Sungbin, desperate for a sign you were doing ok, you were playing this the right way. He grinned at you.

“Like I said, my fault.”

He shrugged with a light chuckle and San faintly followed suit, mouth moving but no sound actually coming out.

“Right, well,” he began in the tell-tale way that said he was backing out of this conversation. “I’d better get back to my table. It was uh, nice meeting you, Sungbin. Good to see you, too-” his eyes rested on you, needled into you like he was searching for something specific in your face. “I’m glad you’re doing well.”

“Yeah, me too. I mean, me for you, you know what I mean.”

A genuine smile. And a nod. Then he was retreating back into the sea of people, disappearing and leaving no trace. No trace but the hammering of your heart. No trace but the sweat pooling in your palms and sticking your dress to your back. No trace but the sudden exhaustion of the relief you felt being out of his presence. Sungbin squeezed your hand again.

“Bad break-up?”

You rested your forehead on the fingers of your free hand and shook your head.

“It was for me. It was the right decision but yeah, it was bad for me. I haven’t... I haven’t seen him since I moved the last of my shit out from our apartment – what used to be our apartment.”

Sungbin nodded knowingly and placed his hand on top of yours just for a second. Then he let you go completely.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped. I realise I didn’t really give you a chance to disagree; I’m sorry about that. I-”

You shook your head and waved your hand.

“It’s absolutely fine,” you reassured him. “It was good, actually.”

You were deeply grateful for his quick-thinking, presumptuous though it may have been. You wanted to splash your face with cold water, give yourself a shock, try to bring yourself back into the room. You didn’t want to look like you were still completely hung up on your ex; you didn’t want to look like a mess; you just needed a second to take a breath.

“That was... not expected,” you went on, more for your benefit than for his. “I have thought so many times about what I would say and what I would do if I saw him again but I guess I never really believed it would happen and then suddenly, he was fucking right in front of me and I just felt like dying!”

Sungbin laughed, as you knew he would, because it was a joke. It was a joke. But you didn’t not feel like dying for at least a second there.

“When did you break up?”

“Oh, months ago now. Kind of feels like I should be over it, I guess. I mean, I am, really. I just-...”

“You were caught off-guard. I get it; it’s rough seeing them again.”

It was rough. And you believed that he did get it. And he smiled at you so sincerely that you could have cried. It surprised you, that people could be nice to you; that people could like you, even; that people could see you and still smile at you. You looked at each other a little longer, Sungbin’s quiet calm radiating through you, your heartrate slowing and your spinning head coming to a stop.

“Thank you,” you said as you picked up your glass to take a sip to cover awkwardness that only you felt. “That was quick thinking and um, yeah, I think it helped. You didn’t have to do that.”

Sungbin shrugged.

“You’re doing me a big favour tonight; it was the least I could do. Happy to be your fake boyfriend whenever you need!”

He laughed and then you laughed and it felt good. You drained the last of your drink and Sungbin suggested you go somewhere else for your next one. You agreed. You didn’t look for San on your way out, just kept your eyes on Sungbin’s back as he led you, your hand in his (just in case), back through the bar and out onto the street.

“You don’t have to literally walk me to my door,” Sungbin said as you stepped into the lift with him. “I maintain that it should be me walking you home.”

You shrugged.

“That argument might hold water if you had even half a clue of how to get to my apartment. But you don’t. Besides, I was taking you out tonight; it only follows that I walk you back, too. Why break tradition?”

Sungbin bit back a grin.

“How long before I live that down?”

“Oh, at least five more years.”

“Well, if you’re going to make me suffer that, don’t you think we should do this correctly? Now, how did it go again?”

He moved behind you and draped himself over your shoulders, slowly leaning his weight onto you. You cried out and could do nothing but collapse underneath him.

“NO! I couldn’t carry you then; now you’re just trying to kill me!”

You knelt on the floor of the lift with your hands outstretched above you, as if they would in any way hold him off. He straightened and pulled you up by them.

“Fine,” he conceded as he stepped out at his floor. “But next time, you’re going to have to let me walk you home. Deal?”

You shrugged. You nodded. You didn’t take that as a promise.

“About your ex,” Sungbin started, standing in front of his door.

“Yeah?”

“Where exactly are you at with that?”

That had you on the backfoot. You didn’t know how to answer the question for yourself, let alone for him. Your first thought was that you probably would have to ask your therapist; did she think you were over it? Would she think you had closure? You blinked and opened your mouth as if somehow an answer would fall out of it without your having to compile it first.

“I just mean,” he continued, “are you dating? Would it be alright if I asked you out?”

“Oh, uh, I-”

Would it be alright? Wouldn’t it be? You had told yourself you were off dating. You weren’t ready for it; you had been emphatic when you’d said as much to Yoongi only a few weeks ago. Was that still true? You had spent so much time that day reminding yourself that this wasn’t a date, but... what if it had been? San aside, it had gone well, hadn’t it? You had had fun; Sungbin seemed like he had, too. He was the one who pretended to be your boyfriend first. Maybe... Maybe it would be ok? Maybe you were ready? There was only one way to really find out.

“Yeah, I guess that would be fine.”

He smiled.

“Good. I’ll do that then.”

He took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your knuckles; everything inside you fluttered. Then he winked and dropped your hand to enter his door code.

“Text me when you get home safe, yeah?”

You nodded, mute. He smiled at you again.

“It was really nice to see you again.” And when he said your name, it sounded new.

You didn’t leave immediately. Couldn’t. You stood outside his apartment, in shock, processing, looking at his closed front door, to the left, to the right, looking for an answer to what just happened. Sungbin did not just ask you out. But he did say he would. He was going to ask you out.

And you had already kind of said yes.

To a date.

You fumbled in your bag for your phone and had it to your ear before you realised you absolutely had to leave, lest Sungbin hear you speaking. You scuttled back down the hallway and into the lift while Taehyung’s phone rang and rang and eventually went to voicemail. You hung up and tried again. And then again. And then you sent him a text.

You: TEDDY!!! PICK UPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You tried calling for a fourth time and for a fourth time, you heard the automated voice of his voicemail service.

You threw your phone back into your bag, defeated, but jittery with nerves and adrenaline. You could barely remember how this felt. In fact, with San you had seen it coming. You had engineered it. You had been flirting for weeks; you practically demanded he ask you out. Then he did. This had come out of the blue. Blindsided you. For the second time that evening. You were so shocked by Sungbin’s question that you had, momentarily, forgotten about running into San.

What a fucking night. One that you had almost no idea how or where to start processing. Everything was-… you threw your hands in the air, by yourself, in the lift, shaking your head, completely bewildered. Taehyung was your go-to person for this. He was your sounding board. You picked up your phone to call him just one more time.

Your phone rang as you were changing into your pyjamas and you picked it up with your vest only half pulled down over your chest.

“Teddy! Finally!”

“Are you dying?”

“No.”

“Are you hurt or injured or maimed in any way?”

“No.”

“Then stop calling!”

“Hey! I need to talk to you!”

“Well, it’s going to have to wait, princess; I’m busy.”

“Not even for five minutes?”

“No.”

“But I saw San!”

There was a pause as Taehyung digested the information.

“Are you ok?” he asked simply.

“Yeah.”

“Then it’s going to have to wait until tomorrow.”

You heard a rustling in the background, another voice.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, turning your voice down to a loud stage whisper. “Are you with someone?”

“... Yes.”

“OH MY GOD! Oh my god, please tell me it’s the barista. Is it the barista? It is, right?!”

“... Yes.”

You squealed and fell onto your sofa to kick your feet in the air.

“WE HAVE SO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT!” you screamed down the phone.

“Yes, but tomorrow.”

“Yeah, fine, tomorrow. Oh my god. I am SO excited, Teddybear.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll talk to you later. I’m going now.”

“Bye, Teddy!”

“Good night, babe; love you.”

“Love you!”

It was entirely possible that you weren’t going to be able to sleep at all now.

You squealed as you opened your door and let Taehyung into your apartment. He handed over an ice-cold, sweating cup of coffee and flopped onto your sofa.

“Tell me literally everything,” you demanded.

He merely shrugged.

“Don’t be fucking coy, you piece of shit! I want to know everything! It’s THE BARISTA.”

The barista worked at a coffee shop not far from Taehyung’s apartment. The barista was a fine, delicate-boned, ethereal beauty, probably the prettiest person you had ever seen in real life. Even Taehyung—unflappable, cool, calm and collected Taehyung—had been flustered the first time the barista had flashed him his pearly whites. And, last night, something had finally happened between them.

“There’s really not that much to tell,” Taehyung countered. “I asked him out and he said yes.”

You hit him hard with a cushion.

“I said I want to know everything! And you can’t just say it like it was that simple; you’ve been daydreaming about that guy for months!”

“Firstly, I was sussing out his situation. I understand tact and diplomacy and how to not say every stupid thing that’s in my head at any given moment-”

“Uncalled for, but go on.”

“-So I had to bide my time.-”

“Also, you’re a massive chicken and he made you go knock-kneed and goo-goo-eyed.”

“-Do you want me to tell you what happened? Or would you prefer to just make up your own version?”

You cackled.

“You know I’d love to make up my own story, but no, sorry, I’ll stop interrup-”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, babygir-”

“Ok, now who’s interrupting?!”

“I’m the one trying to tell you a story!”

“Ok! Ok! Fine, spin your yarn and give me the entire confection, please.”

“I’m seeing him again tonight. Truth be told, I’d be with him right now if someone hadn’t already laid claim to my time.”

“Teddy!”

You felt bad for tearing him away from his One True Love, you did. But he’d already seen his success with the barista (Hyunjin to those in the know) and could go running right back to him as soon as he was done here. All you had was a too-warm apartment to stew in until whatever hour or day Sungbin would choose to actually, officially do the asking.

“Come on, then,” Taehyung said, with a shrug, and nudged you with his foot. “How the fuck did you see San again?”

Shit, that too.

“Right, well, you know I was out with Sungbin last night—and, by the way, do NOT let me forget to show you his instagram. Oh my god. There are no words. And there’s also something else I need to tell you about him after this. But, yes, San, ok.”

It felt like trying to describe a blur. You still didn’t know how you felt about it. The whole night felt surreal to you now, like a dream. It was frustrating to have met him but not really met him, to have seen him and not been able to talk. Everything that you had been working through—trying to work through—felt bundled up inside you and you wanted him to know. You didn’t need him to think you were dating again, you didn’t need to ‘win’; you needed him to know that you understood. That maybe there would always be some kind of thing between you—history, old intimacies like ink stains in your skin—but it didn’t mean that that past would hold you back forever. You wanted him to see that you understood that.

But you came to those conclusions this morning, after a deep sleep, after another man had made implicit promises to ask you out. And, once he’d actually asked you, would anything you had to say to San matter anymore? Did it really matter now?

“I don’t know how I feel about it because... I had this blind panic, y’know? But I don’t know why I panicked because San is a good person and I understand why he broke up with me and I don’t blame him for that and there really shouldn’t have been any reason for it to be awkward, right?”

“I mean, another man pretending to be your boyfriend might make it a little awkward.”

“Maybe... But that’s not Sungbin’s fault; he was trying to help. I thought I’d be cool seeing him again, because I’ve thought so much about things I want to say to him or would say if I could, but when he was actually in front of me, it was like I couldn’t think at all. I don’t know what that means.”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. You were surprised.”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t I be over him? Should he have that effect on me even now?”

“I don’t think ‘should’ is a helpful word here, sugarplum. There is no should or shouldn’t about feelings; isn’t that therapy 101?”

“I just don’t know... I guess I thought that seeing him again would make everything crystal clear, written in stone. Sure. But... Well—ok, the other thing is that Sungbin kind of asked me out.”

“On a date?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you say?”

“Well, he asked me if it would be alright if he asked me out. And I said yes. So he said he would. But he hasn’t actually asked me yet.”

“And you want to know if you should go out with him or not?”

“I guess?”

You shrugged. You wanted to go out with Sungbin. You knew you wanted to because you could picture his smiling face and bulging biceps and you saw clearly, outside of the moment, how quickly and easily he stepped in to support you, no questions asked and no favours owed. He wanted to date you. You knew you wanted to date him. But-

“I don’t want it to be a mistake,” you said.

“That’s natural. No one likes making mistakes.”

“No, I mean, I don’t want it to be a mistake for Sungbin.”

“Why would it be?”

You looked at him, trying to say, without saying, what you meant. Because it had been for San—you had been. He was better off without you and maybe Sungbin would be, too. He was young and rich and free; he had just moved to the biggest city in the country; he had the world at his feet. Were you really going to let him limit himself, stop himself at your door?

Taehyung looked cross for a moment, lips pursed and eyebrows drawn, then he took a sip of his coffee (mostly iced water at this point) and, when he turned back to you, his gaze was softer.

“Baby,” he cooed and he held his arms out to you. Despite the heat in your poorly air-conditioned apartment, you climbed into his lap and let him stroke your hair. “There’s only one way to know for sure if something’s a mistake and that’s to do it. Sungbin clearly wants to. If you also want to, then you’re just going to have to dive in. The water’s great.”

You nodded and let him hold you, so grateful to him and all his tact and diplomacy and gentleness. He wasn’t always—or often—gentle with you, because usually that’s not what you needed and he knew it. Just like he knew that today, that was what you needed.

“I do have one question, though,” he said and his hesitance made your stomach drop.

“Ok.”

“Where does Yoongi fit in with all of this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t know; I thought you guys were-”

“-Friends! Just friends! Have I not said it a million times?! We’re just friends! We’ve always just been friends!”

“But you did have sex-”

“ONE TIME!”

You pushed away from him to better display your indignation and displeasure. Taehyung had a bee in his bonnet about Yoongi—had done since you’d first mentioned him—even though he didn’t know the guy, didn’t know anything.

“Ok, ok!” He held his hands up in defeat. “I just sort of figured you guys were heading in that direction.”

“Why?”

“You seem to like him a lot.”

“I do. Because we’re friends. I like you a lot, too, and we’re not going to shack up.”

“Yes, love, but I’m gay and you are not a man.”

You pushed him.

“You know what I mean!”

“I take your point. If you want to date Sungbin and feel good about it, then you have my blessing-”

“I don’t need your blessing, Teddy; I can do what I like!”

He fixed his eyes on you and simply waited you out.

“Ok, fine!” you cried, exasperated, after probably not more than five seconds. “Thank you, yes, I did want your approval.”

“And you have it, my sweet. As long as you’re happy and not being a complete idiot, I’m on board.”

“I mean... Thanks, I guess?”

"Don’t mention it.”

“Babe!” you cried as soon as Yoongi step foot inside the classroom the following Thursday. You beckoned him closer, telling him to hurry, and grabbed him by the arm as soon as he was within reach. “I have so much to tell you.”

He looked surprised, blinked, and then shrugged with a slight nod of his head. You didn’t pause for thought as you unloaded both your bags and your gossip onto the counter. You were sieving flour as you told him about your dinner with Mei; beating eggs into the mixture when you told him about drinks with Sungbin; and watching Yoongi almost drop the entire thing as he placed it in the oven when you mentioned San.

“What was that like?” he asked with genuine, but guarded, curiosity.

“A blur. Kind of a panicked mess but also fine. I sort of want a do-over but mostly for my pride, y’know? It was bumping into an ex, not actually meeting up with them so I think that made it better. But also worse because I had no time to prepare but there was also no opportunity to get into the difficult stuff which meant we didn’t have to get into it.”

“Do you still want to do that? Talk to him?”

“There’s a lot I want to say to him, but they are things I want to say more than things I think he would need or want to hear. If we met, it would be for my benefit and I don’t know if he deserves to be pulled in for that. Do you know what I mean?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment and nodded.

“And that was before Sungbin asked me out, too, so maybe I would be saying something different if that hadn’t happened.”

“He asked you out?”

Yoongi was turning towards his counter, looking at his sugar in his pan, turning on the hob, his head inclined just slightly towards you to indicate that he was listening. He needlessly pushed a hand through his hair which, far from tucking it behind his ear, made it fall in front of his face. You were, likewise, distracted by your sugar syrup and altogether too excited to take note of much else.

“Yes!” you cried in answer. “So, on the Saturday he asked if he could and, obviously, I said yes. Then it took him until Wednesday to actually do the damn thing, but yes, he asked me out and I said yes and we’re going out tomorrow for our first actual date.”

“Wow.”

“I know, right? I had no idea it was coming—the bit where he asked if he could ask me out, I mean. We ran into my ex at drinks! And he asked me out?! And I was... I was discombobulated, you might say; I stood at his door for five minutes just in shock at what had happened. I was in disbelief. Especially because I wasn’t expecting it! At all. I mean, I was just doing Mei a favour! I didn’t think anything of it and now I can’t stop thinking about it! Or, well, him. I had forgotten how exciting this part is? It’s terrifying, yeah, completely horrifying, really, but I also just feel like I’m alive, y’know?”

You paused briefly, glancing at the oven timer and stirring your syrup.

“I just...” you started and then stopped, staring off into space to let the thought coalesce in your brain. “It’s so crazy that you can think one thing and then someone comes into your life and, suddenly, everything is so different. All it takes is one person to—ok, this is dramatic but you know me now so you’re going to have to let me be—change your whole life. A chance encounter? And suddenly I’m not the world’s loneliest, bitterest, most miserable single person alive? Suddenly, I have something to be excited about? To look forward to? I’m getting ahead of myself, I know I am, but I’m allowing it. I’m allowed to indulge in this because it’s been so long. I’ve been miserable for ages now. And I’m finally not. Don’t get me wrong when I say this, because therapy works, or at least it helps, it really does, but man, having a crush on someone is fucking electric, right? Years of counselling and it turns out nothing makes you feel the joy of being alive like when you really fucking like someone.”

Yoongi hummed.

Chapter Three | Masterlist | Chapter Five

#yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi fic #bts fic #yoongi angst #bts angst #suga x reader

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miraclewoozi · 3 months

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(TEASER) HIGH FIDELITY. - c.hs

getting back on the horse is hard, and failing to hit it off with the cute gamer guy you went for a drink with last night has the potential to be your love life’s last straw. but when up and coming rockstar VERNON unexpectedly canters into your life, you find yourself asking very important question: do you have it in you to saddle up, one more time?

pair ; vernon x fem reader. ( also starring: besties!seungkwan + chan. ) content ; strangers to lovers. up-and-coming musician!vernon x record store owner!reader. fluff, angst, smut. (MINORS DNI). slow burn. warnings ; drinking + alcohol is a theme throughout. mentions of a past relationship breakdown. reader experiences a lot of stress, anxiety and feelings of doubt. reader is the monarch of self sabotage. wc ; teaser, 1.5k. full fic, est. 40k. note ; if you saw any of my posts about the show high fidelity… you’ll know where this came from. ( it doesn't stick to rob + liam's plot too closely with the exception of the first few encounters. )

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

“It’s just my opinion!”

From your perch on top of the store’s counter, you raise both of your palms in a display of your innocence. Chan stands in the middle of the R&B aisle, looking personally offended, fingers curled around the top of one of the wooden crates holding your stock.

“Me saying ‘I don’t think Welcome to the Black Parade is the best track on that album’ is not me saying that it’s a bad song.”

“But how can you say that?” Chan groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Who’s hearing the opening note to Famous Last Words and feeling the same way as they do with the Black Parade?”

“Most iconic doesn’t mean the best,” you counter. “Besides – I never said you weren’t allowed to have it as your favourite. It’d be a boring game if we all had the same answer.”

“I cannot cope with you anymore,” Chan whines. “You know what? No. I don’t even believe you. You’re just being a contrarian.”

“Why would I do that?” you ask.

“Because it’s the best song on the goddamn albu–”

The bell above the door chimes loud and clear through the store and both of your squabbling voices fall silent. Your head turns in the direction of the entrance, an autopilot greeting already forming on your lips, but you feel them fall slack the moment you realise who it is that’s just walked in.

It’s been five days. Though it would be a mistruth to claim you hadn’t thought about the singer since the night of his gig, it’s not one to say you didn’t think he would ever actually come into your place of work.

Much less at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. On a Thursday.

He pops his wrists as he walks a little further into the store, glancing around. Barring one of your regulars who walks about with his earphones in all the time, the store is completely empty; an adrenaline spike prickles the hairs on your arms, all the tiny muscles beneath your skin pulling them to stand upright.

“Hi,” he says once he deems himself to be close enough, stopping in his tracks and bumping the toe of his shoe against the floor.

“Hey,” you greet him in return.

“I’m-... Vernon. We met at the show, the other night?”

“Yeah — yeah, I remember you,” you smile. “I’m-... well. I’m still y/n.”

“Still y/n,” he says on a relieved exhale, grinning and glancing away from you. “I uh… I just had some free time. Thought I’d swing by and see what you guys had going on here.” Vernon adjusts the collar of his t-shirt, the silver of his rings glinting under the flickering yellow light overhead.

(It was definitely somewhere on your list of things to get fixed. Honest.)

“Sure, yeah,” you nod, swallowing hard and trying your best not to stare at him. It’s hard, though – in broad daylight, the way the flannel tied around his waist floats down over his hips and the way his jeans hug at his thighs is… you don't even have the words. “Let me know if you need help finding anything, okay?”

“I will.” He starts to thumb through one of the wooden boxes, offering a small smile your way. “Thank you.”

You’re holding your breath a little as he pulls a few 80’s rock albums out, his lips downturned in surprised approval at some of the records you carry. He holds onto a couple as he moves around the store and the entire time, you can feel Chan and Seungkwan staring at you. If there wasn’t a very real danger of Vernon looking your way again at a moment’s notice, you know you would be showing them your middle finger.

Really, they come away lucky.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve been trying to find some of these,” Vernon says after a few minutes, sauntering toward the desk – you’re still sitting on top of it, your legs swinging in the air beneath you. “Might have to make this my new stop.”

And displayed beside you on the counter – right by the cash register – are a few of his albums. The ones Seungkwan picked up after the show; until about two seconds ago, you had forgotten they were even there.

Vernon’s face lights up when he notices, turning to Seungkwan. “Come on, no way. Dude, I thought you were kidding.”

“We love our locals in here, man,” Chan chimes quickly, seeing you start to freeze up. You nod to agree, biting on the inside of your cheek. “It was on the speakers yesterday. Four people asked us about you.”

“For real?” Vernon asks, but when all three of you nod your heads, you see the beginnings of a blush start to creep up his neck. “Wow. Thank you – um. That’s really cool of you guys.”

“It’s good music,” Seungkwan shrugs. “You’re super talented.”

Vernon doesn’t seem to know what to do with all the compliments he’s receiving. Even so, he thanks your friends again with a stomach-twisting sincerity before he turns back to you.

“I’ll take these,” he says a little breathlessly. You find yourself a tiny bit lost in the warmth of his eyes and it takes you a moment to remember to swivel around and slip off the other side of the countertop. You do, though. Eventually.

“Nice,” you say softly as you shuffle through them, ringing each one through. He’s got pretty decent taste, even if less than a week ago you were actively cringing at his choice of cover song. (It’s okay. That was before you knew better.) “Do you– need sleeves, or…?”

“I’m good. Thank you, though.” Vernon rests his hands against the edge of the counter and drums a quiet rhythm out with his thumbs as you tap away at the register. “Are-... you guys busy tonight, by the way?”

You look up from placing the records into a paper bag, glancing over to your colleagues who both rush to shake their heads. Vernon looks from them, to you, and you mirror their motions. Even if I was, you start to think wistfully. I’d make time.

“I’m down at the Velvet Lounge later on. Across town? It starts at eight thirty; I could get you guys on the list, if-... um…”

“That’d be awesome,” Chan says, nodding so hard you’re surprised his head doesn’t roll off his shoulders and start bouncing across the floor.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Seungkwan adds.

Vernon grins at them both, humming softly, before turning back to you and fumbling with his wallet to take out his card to pay for his purchases. You turn the machine around to face him; he hovers with his hand just above it.

“Maybe… I’ll see you tonight, too?” He says.

You can’t help the delight that rises inside you, as if it’s been injected straight into your bloodstream. It’s everywhere, all of a sudden. In your brain and your heart and your bones and in your lungs.

Yet, you somehow manage to keep your composure when you say, “yeah. Maybe you will.”

The payment goes through and you slide the bag over towards Vernon, your eyes never leaving his and his eyes never leaving yours. His fingers brush over yours as he takes it from you, the bite of the cold ring on his index finger a shocking contrast to the warmth the rest of his hand radiates. You hope your little gasp isn’t too audible, but… the way Chan whirls around to face away from the scene in front of him (presumably to poorly conceal his laughter), you know you haven’t gotten away with it.

“Cool,” he says, hesitating another second before finally pulling himself away. He bows his head in the direction of your friends, sending another of those irresistibly sweet smiles at you, and then he starts off towards the door. “See you, then.”

You feel your pulse finally start to slow as you grip the counter for dear life, setting out a long, drawn-out breath. What just happened? Why do you feel all… fuzzy?

“Maybe… I’ll see you tonight, too?” Chan asks in the deepest voice he can muster, snapping you out of your own head none too pleasantly. You turn in their direction as your other favourite moron feigns tucking hair behind his ear and flutters his eyelashes across at Chan.

“Yeah… Maybe you will.” And Seungkwan’s imitation of you is a little too accurate. Creepily so, and you want to curse him out for it. Instead, you scrunch up a bag to throw towards the pair of them, grinning despite yourself as they both swerve to dodge it.

“Oh my God, shut up,” you chastise them. You don’t have any bite, though, your brain still tingly and positively reeling and seeing Vernon’s dazzling smile every time you so much as blink. And when Seungkwan takes a running start and launches himself, full-force, into Chan’s unsuspecting arms? When Chan lifts him up and spins him around, and when they start making kissy-noises at each other between unearthly cackles?

You know that the next few hours are going to be the longest of your entire life.

thank u for reading!! i hope you liked this lil snippet!! i got kind of impatient with myself and needed to post something about this, so if you're interested in the full fic please feel free to drop a like, an ask, a reblog or a comment to tell me your thoughts! this piece has become sort of my passion project the last six months or so and i'm really excited to share the whole thing with you guys when it's done.<3

#vernon x reader #vernon fanfic #now. how does a bitch tag a teaser. let me know #idw tag this as smut because This part isn't. the full fic contains it. but.#i'm overthinking it.#ig this is mostly just for the followers + friends anyway i'll figure out the full thing later lmao BYE <3 #j writes.#*#re. high fidelity.

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munsonsreputation · 4 months

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I THINK THERES BEEN A GLITCH

CHAPTER FIVE: FASTENING MYSELF TO YOU WITH A STITCH

↢ chapter four | series masterlist | chapter six ↣

steve harrington x fem!baker + artist

word count: [20.5K]

warnings: no use of y/n, cursing, self deprecation (are we surprised???) overall fluff

summary: things get heavy with the farmers market making its quick approach — thoughts gnawing away at you and pressure building in your bones. slowly but surely, you’re back at square one, lost in the labyrinth, thinking that the plane was going down. but what happens when Steve comes along in the midst of the storm and mess?

There was a sugary sweet aroma that clouded your apartment — a mixture of freshly chopped fruit that simmered in lemon juice and the overwhelming heaps of sugar and vanilla you mixed together all day.

Racks of fresh baked cookies cooled on a wire rack on the counters while the next batch baked in the oven. You had gone as far as to clearing out most of your fridge space — pre-filled piping bags littering the shelves along with the rest of the precut ingredients you had prepared throughout the week.

Somehow, no amount of planning and prep seemed to matter because you hadn’t anticipated being responsible for a few hundred batches of sweets for Saturday’s Farmers Market. Perhaps you should’ve posed a few more questions and concerns before agreeing on the spot, but you knew you weren’t going to leave Nancy hanging.

She was always so good to you… welcoming, big-hearted, and most of all supportive. Even if she didn’t ask, you would’ve volunteered yourself the second she brought up that she would be hosting the event.

If there was any way you could help, you wouldn’t even think about hesitating.

However, the ache in your limbs and the tiredness in your eyes were speaking a whole nother tune than your heart and mind. You spent the entire week in and out of the grocery store picking up pounds and pounds of flour and sugar — even the sweet lady at the market had run out of fresh eggs to sell you, having already picked up a few dozen days prior.

There were too many baking dishes and itty bitty teaspoons littering the bottom of your kitchen sink.

Recipes that normally took you an hour to bake had tripled with the increasing measurements.

Grocery store runs became more and more frequent with you forgetting to pick up that one very important and vital ingredient.

The menu you had scribbled down on a random piece of paper had been crossed off and rewritten and crossed off again more times than you could count. At this point it was barely legible, the black ink a jumbled mess of your handwriting that only you could understand.

Safe to say you were a mess… literally and figuratively.

There was a tingling feeling in your bones, an impatient restless prickle that flooded your senses in a way that was voicing to you that you were on the verge of a breakdown in the middle of your kitchen if you didn’t step away.

“Fuck this!” You hissed to yourself sharply.

You reached for the knob, turning it to shut off the heat completely and pulled the bubbling fruit compote away from the burner. The floorboards creaked under your heavy footsteps taking you away from the kitchen and into the living room where you fell against the couch cushions, finally letting your back rest after being on your feet all day.

“It’s gonna be okay… everything is fine, I’m just being dramatic.” You whispered reassuringly to yourself with fanning hands trying to get yourself to cool down.

But you and your consciousness knew you weren’t fooling anyone… not even yourself.

It wasn’t a foreign feeling at all — you had been here many times before staring up at the ceiling and trying to ground yourself in any shape or form. But it just so happened that you hadn’t felt like this in awhile, maybe because of how busy life had become with your new friendships and the less time you spent worrying.

You had done your best to keep it at bay, even when it came to your artist’s block, you never let it overwhelm you like this If anything you accepted it and waited it out, but now that you knew someone was counting on you… it just had to come back and bite you in the ass.

“I can’t do this!” You whined dramatically, standing up and snatching the phone off the coffee table, dialing in the numbers and pressing it tightly to your ear.

With every ring you paced back and forth from end to end of your living room. The cord pulled taut with each step you took before it was slack and taut again.

‘Hey this is the Buckley residence, sorry we can’t come to the phone right now… you should probably leave a message and we’ll try to get back to you but no promises!’

You groaned, pinching your eyes shut as you stood in place waiting for the beep to come but you really wished she would have picked it up and sounded off her lovely voice.

“Hey, Robs, it’s me,” you knew she would be concerned right away when she heard this, your usual bubbly greeting gone and instead replaced with dullness.

“I’m having a really shitty day right now and maybe you can give me a call when you get home? Love you and hope to talk soon.”

It never got this bad, to the point where you felt like you couldn’t move from where you were and even if you wanted to, you had no idea how.

The thought of letting someone you cared about down made your stomach twist and turn. You didn’t have many people in your life, let alone genuine friends. But that all changed when you met Robin and soon after her friends became yours.

Nancy trusted you and was counting on you to be there for her — to show up the way for her the same way she did you. And sweet Will was also counting on you, the boy pitched you the idea and you smiled in his face promising him that it wasn’t only great but that you’d be there to help.

You could already imagine the disappointment in their eyes if you had to tell them you weren’t sure you were the right fit just barely two days before the event. It would totally shatter them, maybe not completely, but enough for them to never ask you for anything ever again because you’d only let them down.

Even when you didn’t mean to, it always happened, and here you were about to repeat it all over again. Losing the people who genuinely cared about you the same way you cared about them just because you couldn’t get out of your own head.

All of your life you had believed that everything good and right just ended up breaking, burning, and ending — it was always your fate.

DING!

“Oh my god!”

You scrambled off the cushions in a haste, the phone toppling over onto the floor as you ran into the kitchen and threw on the oven mitts as quickly as you could. The smell of burning was only faint, the timer you had set on the microwave beeping two more times before shutting up.

You whipped the oven door opened, a big gush of heat enveloping the air whilst you reached in and grabbed the pan. Frantically searching your kitchen for any free space on the already cluttered counters, you made room on the kitchen table, placing it down on a dish towel to prevent it from developing a heat stain.

Much to your surprise, the cookies were not at all burnt: the colorful sprinkles of funfetti still remained vibrant embedded within the vanilla sugar cookies. You wedged the metal spatula underneath, checking and making sure they were perfectly golden, which in fact they were.

“Fuck my life.” You huffed, throwing off the mitt and raking your hands through your scalp.

The pressure was building, the weight on your chest feeling like the whole town was counting on you when you knew deep down they weren’t. The show would still go on with or without you but it just was principal – being inconsiderate or not.

The phone began to ring, muffled sounds from against your living room carpet as it had fallen over in the midst of the haste. It was probably Robin, concerned about the voicemail you left minutes ago.

“Hey sweet—”

“Steve!”

It was supposed to be a greeting of pleasant surprise not expecting him to be on the other line, despite spending the last week non stop on the phone with each other when you both were free. But all Steve heard was panic and distress, your warm and surprised hello replaced with everything opposite of that, making his mind race.

“Woah, hey, did something happen? Are you okay?”

You couldn't spare him from the truth or not, and it didn’t really matter because he’d end up finding out somehow. You sighed, peeking back into the disaster of your kitchen before looking down at your lap, fidgeting with your fingers.

“I… well, kinda, not really, I don’t really know.”

“Do you need me to drive down there? I can come right now.”

There was shuffling in the background, his bed squeaking from getting up from it and the sound of his car keys being swiped off the counters. It had you backtracking as quickly as possible, regretting being so vague and making him worry like this knowing he was so far away.

While the thought of him coming down to see you after a week apart sounded enticing, it would be entirely selfish to let him do so. You weren’t Steve’s responsibility to take care of, no matter how much you felt inside for him and how his presence could put you at ease right about now.

For now, you’d settle for the next best thing: him over the phone.

“Wait, no, that’s not what I mean, I’m sorry…” You squeezed your eyes shut, sniffling a deep breath in, “I just—just was having a really bad day and then I almost burnt the cookies I had in the oven. I’m not hurt, I promise.”

There was a deep sigh at the end of your sentence, the one where he could picture your shoulders falling defeatedly and that terrible frown he hated to see on your face. He could imagine it would be the same sight as when you sat across from him at the diner and felt so horrible about yourself.

If only you were a block away, he’d be at your doorstep in a heartbeat ready to tackle whatever was going on like it was his only duty in the world. To be quite honest he hated the distance between the both of you, like some sort of curse that only you two had to go through.

Way to go for Dustin and Suzies long distance problems.

There was another squeak, his back hitting his bed again before he spoke. “What’s going on?”

You shook your head, not wanting to dump all of it on him after the day he probably had. “N-nothing. I’m just being dramatic and getting in my head about the farmers market thing.”

There was a migraine already coming to life from the pulse on your temples just thinking about it again.

“C’mon tell me what’s bothering you.” He pressed, unwavering in his efforts to help you get it off your chest.

You took another deep breath, falling back onto the couch cushions and this time ready let all the pent up stress go by finally telling someone the truth.

“I don’t know if I can do it… I mean, I didn’t anticipate for it to be this stressful, you know. Which is stupid of me, I mean what did I think it was gonna be? A walk in the park? I swear, I’m not lazy or anything, I just didn’t realize—”

He cut in before you could even think about finishing that sentence, scoffing incredulously, “Stop it, you don’t have to tell me you’re not lazy because I know you’re not.”

His voice was soothing and sure, not a hint of uncertainty behind it that made you think otherwise. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at your own negativity that you promised yourself you would stop doing but would always have a habit of.

“Saying it out loud makes me feel like I am.” You attempted to laugh at yourself to lighten the spirits, but Steve let out a disapproving grunt and you almost see the visual of him shaking his head.

“You’re such a hard worker, I mean, that’s why Nance picked you. She knew you could do this and I do too.”

Even over the phone he never failed to make your heart melt and cheeks blush. Call yourself cheesy or whatever, but he was the greatest pick me up on days like these.

Staring up at your ceiling you began getting lost in him despite the lack of visuals. “I kid you not, I think I went back to the grocery store like five whole times. My arms are going to be ripped with how many pounds of flour and sugar I’ve been picking up.”

He chuckled, trying to picture it in his head. Poor you having to lug bags and bag of flour from the store all the way to your car then back home.

“You know you could’ve called, I would have come down and helped sooner.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. You’re already doing a lot at work and—”

“Cupcake, I categorize tapes. My job is far from stressful.” His tone went stoic, pretending like he didn’t know what you were talking about.

Steve did more than just categorized tapes. He dealt with the horrible and impatient customers, even the rowdy teenagers who kept wandering back to the adult film section. He put up with a whole lot at work — but you were never someone he had to deal with.

A relief of sorts is what you were – someone he’d call or run to with no hesitation because it just felt right. No obligations, no whys or hows, just because in his bones, you felt like that person for him.

His almost.

You’re the one he looked forward to calling after a long hard day knowing that you would be able to make him forget all about it. He could lay there in his bed, eyes shut with the phone glued to his ear and you on the other end of it. Maybe it wasn’t the best substitute for sleep, but in his eyes it was the best rest he could ever get if you weren’t here laying beside him like before.

Still, your apologies never ceased, too concerned for his own wellbeing. “But you’re on your feet all day and you’re really tired and—”

Steve cut you off, stopping your unnecessary yet thoughtful concern for him.

“And I still would’ve come down even if I was all of those things. You don’t have to worry about bothering me, you know you never do.” He said it sincerely, a happy and eased way about it like there was no other way to explain it.

“How do you always do that?” You murmured, voice finally settling into a more relaxed mood the longer you spent away from the chaos.

“Do what?”

You wiggled around, tapping your fingers against the phone, “You know what I need to hear even when I don’t say it outloud.”

Steve had always been great at that and for someone who claimed to never be good with words, he just knew exactly what to say. He’d like to think it was because the kids needed constant advice in their teenage lives and he came to be better at guiding and explaining things to them.

But you never asked for advice nor did he feel like you ever needed it. Everything that he’d spew to you came from the bottom of his heart, things that he always wanted to tell you without reservation.

He pretended to think for a second before replying obviously, “Hmm, maybe it’s because I care about you?”

“You care about me?”

His laugh echoed lightly, thinking you were playing around because how could you not know? Your silence answered his question, and he just knew he had to tell you how serious he was.

“Of course I do!” You could tell he sat back up on his bed, voice a little stronger now as he continued, “I care about you and I can’t stand hearing you talk so badly about yourself when I’m head over—”

A loud ring erupted through the receiver, a second call on the other line completely cutting Steve off as he was about to put it all out on the table.

“Shit!” You winced pulling the phone back and rubbing your ear from where it was ringing.

“What!?” Steve shouted loud enough to hear with the phone still pulled away from you.

Looking down at the display, the last name ‘BUCKLEY’ illuminated in bright orange.

“Umm, Robin is calling… I left her a voicemail and she’s probably worried and I—”

Steve let out a breath of relief, sighing out as he settled back on the springs of his bed. “You can put me on hold, it’s okay.”

“O-okay, sorry, just a minute.” You squeaked, switching the line with your brain still processing what he was on the verge of saying.

“Hey Ro—”

You couldn’t even get the full greeting out before her voice came to you rushed — you could imagine that’s exactly what Steve heard when you picked up his call a few minutes ago.

“Oh thank god! I thought something bad happened for a second. Are you alright?” She asked worriedly.

“Yeah! Just kinda had a mini breakdown, but I promise that I’m—”

“Do you want me to come down? I can call Steve or Nance and get a ride there.” She offered quickly without hesitation.

You truly had the best friends in the entire world… how did you manage to get so lucky?

“No! No! I swear I’m okay… it was just some stupid thoughts about the farmers market thing. You know the stress and whatever.” You reassured her, hoping she wasn’t too strung up on it.

“Are you sure?” She pressed again just for good measure, “I know Steve would drop everything for me and him to come down and help you.” Her voice lifted with a bit of teasing that you caught.

You smiled self indulgently, happy to know you had people who were willing to come all the way down here to be with you — it showed that they really cared, and even if you didn’t need them to, hearing it outloud warmed your anxious heart.

“You’re so sweet, Ro…but I swear, I’m okay! Steve actually called me.”

“He did?” She gasped.

She wasn’t actually too surprised considering that these days after scoring your number all Steve would talk about was getting home from work to give you a call before you headed to bed.

The next morning she would be bombarded with him going on and on about the conversation you two had — little things like what you had for dinner, a stray cat you started feeding, entirely mundane yet sappy things that had him hooked because you were the star of those stories.

Nevertheless she loved hearing about it — a perfect start to her morning, lunch break, and the entire shift of the day before doing a full repeat the next day.

“Yeah, he’s on the other line right now.”

A squeal ensued from her end, one that made a smile pop upon your features because her happiness always had its special way of radiating and lifting up everyone around her.

“Oh perfect! Merge the call!”

“Are you sure? I can tell him I’ll call him back later.” You offered, wanting her to know she would always have your full undivided attention.

“You can merge it! I actually have something important I really want to tell the both of you if it’s okay?” She said making your mind race with a million different things she could be planning to tell you and Steve if it was this important.

“Of course, give me a sec.”

You heard her “mhm,” before you switched lines again and this time Steve’s whistling came through the receiver.

“S-sorry, she was checking in.” You cleared your throat, not doing a great job of masking the croak.

“Was she jumpy?” He joked, knowing she had a habit of doing that all the time.

“A little,” you snickered, “she wants me to merge the call. Has something important to tell us.”

“Okay, cool, yeah that’s fine. She called out of work today so I didn’t get to talk to her all day.”

Robin calling out of work was a rarity, sure the job was a little boring, but working with her best friend compensated for that. Steve was usually up to date in advance whether she would be calling out or not – so getting to work today and not seeing her was incredibly weird.

You cleared your throat once more, fingers twirling around the cord as you spoke kindly, not wanting to let what he did for you go unnoticed. But Steve never did things to be thanked for, you knew that for sure, but still, you would cherish him for taking the time out of his day to be there for you.

“But umm, I really appreciate what you said earlier, y’know… encouraging me and whatnot.” Your voice was soft, filled with a mixture of gratitude and warmth.

“You know all you have to do is ask and I’ll be your biggest supporter.” Steve responded happily, making sure that it stuck with you.

Your fingers hovered over the merge button, contemplating your choice of words before you decided to let it go at the last second. “And Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“I-I care about you too…a lot, just so you know.”

You said with an oath-like-whisper hearing his breath hitch with a thick swallow. Clearly he was a little taken aback by your sudden leap of boldness that was usually hidden under your bashfulness that he found endearing, nonetheless. Before Steve could say anything else, you clicked the merge button, a quick static ringing through the receiver before it cleared up.

A joyful Robin came through the other side. “Can you guys hear me, alright?”

Steve coughed, trying to steady his heart that was pumping faster as he hung onto your words for dear life. He tried to think of something else in the meantime, knowing he needed to at least survive this phone call before he got to pace his room for the rest of the night and replay the words in his head.

“Y-yeah.”

“Yuppers!”

You obviously did a better job at trying to seem nonchalant.

Robin squealed, the sounds of her getting comfortable on her couch filling the line before she spoke again.

“I have some really big major news to spill but—”

“But first tell me why you called out of work, dingus? I had to deal with Keith all alone today!” Steve retorted.

She scoffed loudly, “God, do you ever shut up and listen, Harrington? It’s a part of my story.”

“Wait, you called out of work because of this big major news?” You asked suspiciously.

“Yeah…well actually no! I called out of work for a reason that led up to the big major news.” She informed you both.

“Oh! Well, whenever you’re ready!” You chirped ready for the news.

“Okay so remember Vickie?”

Steve clicked his tongue a few times, “Isn’t she still dating that jerk from Purdue?”

“Not since last month!”

“What happened between them?” You wondered, not knowing much about Vickie and her history with Robin.

There was a heavy sigh before a devastating confession. “He cheated on her.”

“Ouch.” You grimaced, biting down on your lip.

“What an asshole.” Steve muttered.

“Exactly! But anyway, we ran into each other this morning at the bus stop and we kinda just hit it off and we spent the day together then she kissed me!”

You gasped and Steve cursed. The both of you were shocked by not only hearing about poor Vicky’s cheating situation, but on top of all that, the fact that she and Robin had swapped spit after how many months of pining.

“You blew me off for a girl!?”

“Oh shut up Steve, as if you didn’t do it to me before either!”

If you weren’t so flabbergasted, you’d make a comment about how the two still fought like siblings even over the phone, but you didn’t, too intrigued and wanting to know more details.

“Did she initiate the kiss?”

“Yes!”

“Like a peck kiss or like a full fledged make out kiss?” You pressed.

“I-I don’t know! Maybe a little bit of both? I was just following her lead, okay? Last time I kissed a person was back in sixth grade when Donny Humberford dared me to… it was unpleasant and quite honestly was my awakening that I never liked boys.”

You giggled as Steve went for his round of questions, the two of you taking turns like it was some sort of interrogation.

“Well, c’mon tell us, was this kiss at least pleasant.”

Robin sighed a sigh that sounded straight out of a rom-com, you could picture her kicking back her legs and looking so enamored by just the memory itself.

“The most pleasant kiss I think I’ll ever get.” She sing-songed cheerfully.

“What about if Phoebe Cates kissed you?” He challenged.

“Okay, woah, that’s totally unfair! Vickie and Phoebe are both hot babes!”

You jumped in again, this time with a very important question that needed to be answered. “Did you foot do the pop up thing?”

Stuttered words came from Steve, who had no idea what you were talking about. “The what? Is that some sort of sex thing?”

Robin snorted. “Ew no!”

“Steve!” You shrieked, covering your face.

“What?! You said foot and thing in the same sentence and that makes me think of some really gross stuff that I don’t even think the rated X section has.”

Robin gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth, “You’re totally right! Wait, do you think Keith stole all the foot fetish tapes?” She speculated seriously.

“What the hell is wrong with your boss?” Your face twisted up in horror.

“He’s a creep.”

Steve was next with a considerate yet weird warning, “Please, if you ever come to visit us, do not wear opened toed shoes at the store.”

“Jesus Christ, yeah, I’ll make sure I remember that. Anyways, the foot thing!”

“Oh yeah, the foot thing!” Robins snapped gleefully.

“Would someone just explain the goddamn foot thing?” Steve complained.

“You know! When you kiss someone you really really like and your foot does that little pop up thing because you’re enjoying it because it’s with them.” You tried your best to explain.

“Guys don’t really do it though… they pop something else, if you know what I mean.” Robin cracked with a laugh before Steve choked on his spit at the vulgary.

The line reduced to chortles, you and Robin dying at the joke, while Steve couldn’t help but smile, waiting for you both to settle.

“And you want to call me filthy?” He pointed out when it finally died down.

“No but seriously, she kissed me out of nowhere and I didn’t get the chance to really even process it and I’m just realizing that and, holy shit! I kissed Vickie!”

“She actually kissed you first but okay.” Steve corrected, though Robin didn’t seem to catch it.

“Vickie and I’s lips were pressed together! I felt her mouth on mine! Oh my god! I kissed Vickie!”

It wasn’t long before the call was filled with her squeals and screams, Robin completely forgetting about you and Steve while she remembered it all in her own world. Her heavy panting filled the line then, taking a breather from the screams and her recollection of every detail.

“Honey, do you wanna process that alone?” You suggested indulgently, hoping she would take you up on the offer because it really was a special moment you wanted her to process.

Thankfully she didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah, I gotta go!”

“Bye-bye now, don’t dream too much about it.” Steve sing-songed before she hung up with a heavy clunk.

The static rings through for a millisecond as she disconnects, before you and Steve are alone once again. Good-natured and proud laughter comes from both of you, so ecstatic for your friend.

“That’s adorable! I’m so happy for her!” You gushed with a squeal.

“I should’ve known something was up! She never calls out of work like that and doesn’t give a reason why.”

“I bet you she’s screaming into her pillow right now.”

“Or she could be pacing her room with her face in a pillow and screaming.” He added as you both agreed that it would be a very possible ‘Robin-thing-to-do.’

Steve seized the moment with a question of his own. “Have you ever done the foot thing?”

Laughter came out the second he finished the query, you just couldn’t help the fact that he was asking about that all of a sudden – not that you minded, but you just never imagined Steve Harrington asking about a corny foot pop.

“Now all I can think about is foot fetish.” You fake gagged.

“You’re so dirty minded! Okay, okay, has your foot ever done the pop thing…that’s better?”

“Much better,” You crooned, thinking for a moment about all the times in which you’ve been kissed with nothing sticking out, “And, no, I don’t think it’s ever happened to me.”

“Really?” He sounded surprised, as if it was some sort of shock that you’ve never experienced such a thing.

“The foot pop is, like, totally memorable, trust me.”

Steve was half regretful of bringing up such a dumb question, hoping it didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. The last thing he wanted was to remind you of your ex that he already knew you weren’t too fond of.

“Well who knows? Maybe one day right?” He put it out there into the universe, crossing his fingers that his optimist came through the way he wanted.

Your small laugh was all it took for him to know everything was just right. “One day.”

Perhaps it was the hour and the lack of sleep you had been getting for the past couple of days, but you let out a yawn, apologizing in the middle of it as Steve chuckled and told you not to worry about it.

“I should probably go… I need to get started on the cupcakes and package the cookies up.” You groaned, reality hitting as you looked around your place that was still a complete disaster, and didn’t magically clean itself up.

“Why don’t you call it a night huh? I’m sure you worked all day.”

Steve’s voice filled with the same concern as the beginning of the call, still not understanding why you were putting yourself through so much when you were already doing the best you could.

“Been up and moving since 7 a.m..” You yawned again, rubbing your eyes.

Steve shook his head, not that you could see him, but he was sure you must have felt his discontent for overworking yourself through the phone.

“You did so much work, you deserve a break.” He repeated sternly.

You rubbed your forehead, knowing he was more than right. “Yeah but then that means I’ll still have more work to do tomorrow and—”

“And I’ll come and pick you up and we can bake the rest of the stuff at my place. I’ll help and it’ll be a nice change of scenery for you.”

Steve was notorious for doing and saying things without using his head, oftentimes leading to horrible and awkward situations. But when it came to you, more times than not, everything he did and said was without thinking of himself and more for the best interest of you.

He knew you’d been bending over backwards for this event and the last thing he wanted you to do was go at it all alone. Steve knew you were more than capable of doing it all by yourself, but he didn’t want you to – not when he was there willing and able.

“Don’t you have the morning shift tomorrow?” You suspected, having both his and Robin’s schedule memorized by heart.

“Well Robin owes me so not anymore.” He retorted cheekily.

Sure, maybe he should have given Robin a break considering kissing Vicky to be an incredible milestone, but if he could survive a shift alone with Keith so could she. Plus, it was for you, so Robin couldn't be too upset if she wanted to.

“If you’re going to call out I don’t want to make you do more work.”

“You’re not making me, I want to.”

He’d do anything when it came to you without even second guessing it. There was something deep down inside of him hoping that you knew and understood that because he needed you to.

“You’re too good to me.” Your chest rose and fell, a happy breath that was a glimmer of hope to his ears that you knew.

He took his own breath, glancing over at the alarm clock on his bedside table, “Get some rest and I’ll be over in the morning.”

“I could drive there if you want? Save you some gas and let you sleep in a bit more.”

“I know you could, but I want to. So please?”

Why Steve was so generous when it came to you, you’d never really understand considering the mess you were. A part of you liked to think that you were the mess he wanted and there was nothing more you wanted to be than his.

“Y-yeah, sure, thank you.” You stuttered, gripping the phone tightly

“Get some sleep okay? You deserve it.” He cooed, a smile leaking through his voice that you could see even over the phone.

“I will.” You promised to smile at the thought of getting to see him so soon.

“Night sweetheart.”

“Night Stevie.”

Steve shouldn’t like the idea of waking up at the crack of dawn and proceeding to drive to a town an hour away on the one time he called out of work — but when it’s Roane and he’s coming for you, he loved the journey.

He felt more lively than ever even if he had woken up ten minutes before his alarm and ran out of instant coffee to make before he left. All of the little inconveniences didn't matter when he was taking the roads that led straight to you.

There’s a vast difference between the town he grew up in and yours. Hawkins should feel like home, and at times, it really is — his closest friends are there, but then again his parents always come back eventually. And when they do, it feels less than that — like him playing a game of hide and seek trying to avoid them until they go out of town again.

Sometimes there were moments where he just wished that they both packed up their things and relocated permanently so he could stop banking on the moment where they finally woke up and made an attempt to be an actual family — the one he still yearned for even after all of these years of disappointments.

It’s the harsh truth he’s had to face since he was a young teen realizing that they’d always come home, but never for him. A feeling of cruelty that reminded him that no matter how patient he was, his parents would never notice the way they’ve neglected him through the years.

He kept quiet, stayed hidden in plain sight when they were around knowing they could never make up for it — the damage had been done and his home was never going to be home as long as they were around.

But in hindsight, that’s why he enjoyed visiting Roane these days.

He didn’t have to hide or worry about running into one of his father’s friends from the office or his mother’s girlfriends, trying to uphold a conversation with them that he clearly didn’t want to be in. He knew close to nothing about his parents and their whereabouts and didn’t want to unless it was them coming home early and him needing to leave for the next few days.

In Roane there’s no one he’s hiding from… just someone he’s desperate to get to.

But of course an early morning in town isn’t complete without a pit stop at Taylor’s. He’d be damned if he showed up at your doorstep at this hour without a dozen cronuts and your favorite coffee.

He was welcomed with the chime above the door, inhaling the smell of freshly ground coffee and baked breads, a type of homeyness that could never be replicated unless it was coming from your kitchen.

Like second nature he knew what to get, an order of assorted cronuts, your rose latte with an extra pump of vanilla syrup, and his very plain iced mocha with an extra shot of caffeine to get him through, but he doubted he really needed it when you’d be there beside him the whole day.

“It’s going to be $19.89.” The cashier announced, ringing up the total and he nodded, reaching into his back pocket.

Flipping open his wallet, there was a giddy smile that spilled on his face. The yellow notepad paper folded up and placed within the clear pocket of the billfold, your handwriting reading ‘to: stevie <3’

It’s probably the worst way to store his most prized possession, but the damn thing got him through long work days and even longer ones at the arcade when Max and El begged for $5 to spare — he doesn’t mind them asking if every time he opens his wallet, he’s greeted by something that reminds him of you.

He probably looked like a psycho taking too long to grab a $20 bill with him distracted. Finally sliding the cash across the counter, he waited for his change before tucking it back into his wallet and stuffing the receipt into his pocket and stepping off to the side waiting for the drinks to be done.

“Steven!”

The greeting came from the woman walking through the front door, the chime of the bell above her not at all audible with her voice bellowing within the small space. She wore a big big smile, arms held out wide as she approached him.

He cracked a grin, letting her pull him in as he hugged her warmly. “Dorothea.”

She was just as lively at seven in the morning as she is at ten at night at the diner.

“I haven’t seen you around in a while. You two haven’t stopped seeing each other already have you?” She lifted a weary brow, voice laced with a bit of teasing.

Steve shook his head, shyly smiling at her insinuation of what you two had going on. “I’ve just been working a lot, these days. I’m going to see her right now, just came by to pick up some breakfast for us.” He gestured towards the counter of packaged goodies.

“Aren’t you such a gentleman? You know if I could clone ya, I would!” She pinched his cheek playfully.

God, she reminded him of his great grandmother he hadn’t seen since he was seven.

“That’s uh…very sweet of you. Thank you.” Steve smiled sincerely, hoping he didn’t look too strained.

She gripped onto his arm, squeezing as she smiled from ear to ear. “Well tell her I said hello! She hasn’t been to the diner in a while, must be locked up in her apartment painting or something.”

“That and baking.” Steve replied with a proud grin. “She’s in charge of a booth at the Hawkins market tomorrow.”

“No kidding?” She tilted her head, strikingly, always amazed at the amount of things you were able to juggle.

“You should come, she’ll be happy to see some familiar faces around.” He extended the invite warmly, cursing himself for not having a flyer on hand to give her in case.

“Order for Steve.”

He gave her another smile, “Hope we see you there,”

“I’ll try my best, pumpkin! You two enjoy your breakfast, now.”

And he was off, back on track to his destination with the goods secured knowing it would make your morning better even if you were not so much an early bird. It’s little things like this that he knew he could do to make your day a little less stressful especially since he anticipated plenty of baking for the next few hours.

But he hoped with his presence you’d find it in yourself to not put so much pressure on yourself. He was there for a reason, wanted to give you a hand and take some of it off your plate so that you could relax a bit.

Sure, he didn’t really know much about baking, but he was willing to learn for you.

The drive to your place was short, not too far away from the cafe. Your apartment complex was tucked away from the main parts of town, hidden just a few miles away from Taylor’s and the diner.

It was a quiet yet cozy neighborhood, everything about it screamed your name.

Flowers of all kinds littered the boulevard, bright yellows and pinks peeking out through the tall green grass and dancing in the sun, accompanied with a light breeze of air as he drove by.

Stray kittens and puppies roamed the sidewalk like community pets, nuzzling up against the ankles of children who walked hand in hand with their parents and siblings towards the bus stop for school.

Tall oak trees that had been standing for years lined the sidewalks housing birds and their babies on branches where they also got the best view of the sunrise at their peaks.

Elderly couples mingled with others, dressed in their cozy morning attire and some still in their pajamas hoping to get some exercise in the summer nice weather that would soon be replaced with autumn.

Quite frankly this place held everything and more that Steve wanted for his life. The atmosphere filled with some sort of magic potion that had him wanting to stay forever if it meant that he got to walk these same sidewalks and drive down the same roads with you by his side.

It was stupid and far-fetched idea considering the circumstances he was in, but he’d still like to think that someday this would be the place he called home. Somewhere where he didn’t have to just watch happy people living their lives with the ones they loved, but where he could be doing the same too.

“Here we are.” Steve whistled, turning his wheel into the complex a few blocks away from the main homes.

He was glad you lived on the ground floor, not because it would save him time to take all the items into yours, but because your place greeted him through the windshield every time he pulled up and placed his car into park next to yours.

Your front porch, while not having much space, was still decorated with everything that made you, you.

Fresh herbs planted in a small basin that sat on the railing of the entrance and a trellis of green vines resting against the wall beside your front door. There was a welcome mat placed at the doorstep along with a pair of gardening boots that were too big your size, an attempt to scare off potential burglars who want to mess with a hypothetical giant with a size 10 foot — Steve laughed like a maniac when you told him about that.

He shut the car off, reaching for the coffees and juggling the box in one hand as he shut the door with his hip and approached your front door steps.

Setting down his drink, he brought his fists up to the door knocking firmly. “Sweetheart, it’s me!”

He waited, listening to hear your voice call out for him followed by your footsteps thudding against the wooden floors as you ran towards the door, but all he heard was silence. Not even the sound of music playing through your record player or the morning news on your television.

Just pure silence.

He frowned, knocking again this time a little louder. “You in there? It’s Steve.”

Still no answer.

He pressed his ear to the door, complete silence, not even a peep of water running from the shower which confirmed his suspicion that you were still very much asleep. Though he wasn’t surprised, you were probably in bed sleeping soundly after all the work you did yesterday.

Steve set the items down on the porch, looking around the area until his eyes landed on the pot tucked away in the corner — it was a fake succulent where you planted a spare key. He tried to tell you how unsafe it was to keep a key out there in the open but you claimed no one would try to pluck a key out of a creepily real looking cactus.

Smart girl you were.

“Gotcha.” He smirked, plucking the key away from the bottom of the pot and approaching the door with it in hand.

“I’m coming in, cupcake.” Steve called out one last time with a knock. A warning, hopeful that you finally had woken up but to no avail there was still silence.

He sighed, sticking the key into the lock and turning it open and carefully pushing the door in not wanting to startle you. But alas, he didn’t think that it was even possible when you were cramped up on the couch sleeping soundly.

“Oh, christ.” He said under his breath, quietly stopping in his tracks.

You had a blanket partially pulled over yourself keeping you warm enough to bear the entire night. Your hair was sprawled out across the cushions, strands resting along your cheeks. You slept like a baby, curled up in an awkward yet comfortable position.

Steve quickly picked up the coffees and baked goods, shutting the door as quietly as possible as he toed off his shoes and rested the items onto the coffee table.

He looked towards the kitchen, finally aware of the sheer magnitude of work you had been doing. Sure it was a bit of a mess, but he was relieved a bit to know that you got some rest like he suggested.

“Sweetheart,” Steve whispered softly, bending at the couch where he shook your shoulders gently.

You only stirred, keening as you nuzzled yourself deeper into the cushions, eyes pinching tighter to stay asleep. He felt terrible for having to be the one to wake you up, but it had to be done.

“Honey, it’s almost seven… you gotta get up.” He spoke a tad louder, brushing back your hair out of your face until you pressed your cheek to his hand, gluing it there so he couldn’t move.

“Hmmm, no it’s not.” You argued sleepily with your eyes still closed, licking your lips as you remained comfortable.

You were cute even at this early hour and he would have loved to let you stay in bed but he knew it would throw off your entire game plan and have you rushing more than you already were.

“C’mon doll,” He shook you again, this time with enough firmness to get your eyes pinching and peaking open.

He gave you a small smile, mouthing ‘good morning,’ as you stared blankly at him, not a single thought behind your tired eyes other than it had to have been a dream that felt too real.

“I had to use the key to get in… you fell asleep out here last night.” His voice was faint, not wanting to rudely pour all this information on you so early in the morning.

Clear confusion accompanied the tiredness, just starting to really wake up and fathom that Steve was hovering above you and it wasn’t a trick your brain was playing on you..

“W-what?” You yawned, shutting your eyes again and giving them a rub.

“It’s 7 in the morning, sweet thing. You overslept a little.” His thumb moved up to caress the skin under your eyes, soothing your harsh rubbing.

You moaned out an objection, shaking your head against his hand, “No, I didn’t.”

He laughed, shaking his head at your positivity before finally pulling his hand from your cheek to lift his sleeve and hover the watch over your face.

“Look, honey.”

It took you a second, eyes still clouded with fatigue as you squinted up at the hands of the clock. Slowly you began to process it, the short hand pointing sharply at the 7 and the mere fact that Steve was in fact before your eyes with the purest look of fondness despite the hour.

“Holy shit!” Your eyes widened, pushing the blankets off yourself in a haste and sitting up.

“It’s okay—”

Your eyes darted to him, frowning deeply, torn between embarrassment and stupidity for having him wait out there for god knows how long.

“I swear I set a timer for fifteen minutes,” you huffed, pointing towards the coffee table for the stupid kitchen timer that he proceeded to pick up and shake.

“I was supposed to take out the trash and pack up the cookies.” You explained, watching as he sat it back down and gave you a reassuring shake of his head, unbothered by the situation.

“It’s okay, maybe you just didn’t hear it.” He tried, hoping you would give yourself the benefit of the doubt instead of beating yourself up.

You took a deep breath, offering a tight smile as you patted the space next to you and gathered the blankets over your shoulders. He took a seat, getting comfortable beside you, watching how you closed the space until your knees were knocking against each other.

“I’m really so sorry… were you waiting long?” You glanced over to him.

He shook his head, reaching over to brush your hair over your shoulder. “Nope, I just got here. Thought I told you to rest up last night?”

“You did,” You said guilty, watching his hand drop back down to his lap, “Buuut I just wanted to get a few more things done and I was supposed to have a power nap then clean the place up.”

You combed your fingers through the roots of your head, resting your elbows on your knees as you realized the mess was still very much there and Steve had to be here to witness the catastrophe.

Just as quickly as his hand dropped to his lap, it came back out to rest over your knee, fingers rubbing assuringly as he gave you a sequence of squeezes to get you looking at him again.

“S’okay, you needed it.” He assured you, his touches never ceasing as his chin poked out towards the coffee table. “I got you some coffee and your favorite.”

Sure enough there was a box of piping hot cronuts filling your apartment with their decadence, and a cup of your favorite morning drink rested right beside his half finished one.

Steve’s generosity was something you never thought you could get used to, but by now you should’ve known that he always went above and beyond… at least for you.

“You didn’t have to.” You whispered thankfully, closing your eyes as you tilted your head onto his shoulder.

He slotted closer to you, keeping his thumbs rubbing your skin in random patterns as you felt him shake his head against yours, simply murmuring, “I wanted to,” in the quiet space.

For once, in the last few days that you spent in the haze of stress and anxiety, today felt like the calmest morning you had all week. Despite you nearly burning your apartment down and falling asleep in the living room in less than 24 hours, with Steve here, it seemed like he brought some sort of magical potion that had you thinking everything was going to be okay.

It was difficult for your heart to swell and get tight in the confines of your chest when you realized that peace could be this. The two of you spending mornings like this, even when you were the farthest thing from peace – maybe it was him who could give it to you.

The two of you sat around for a few minutes in complete silence, just enjoying each other's presence for what it was worth right now. Something about it felt domesticated in the best way possible, knowing the simplest things in life like this were free.

“I’m gonna go shower really quick.” You announced, slowly pulling away from his side and stretching your arms out.

He retracted his hand from your skin, being the first to stand up, “I’ll put your coffee in the fridge for now.” Steve headed towards the kitchen with your drink in hand.

Your feet continued across the floors padding towards your bedroom, bed still freshly made having not slept on it the night before. Sure your back should have been aching from sleeping on the less than suitable couch, but you got the rest you needed and that’s what mattered.

You pulled open your closet, settling for a loose dress to sport instead of jeans knowing they’d probably be covered in flour and sugar by the end of the day. You pulled your towel from the hanger on your door and walked across the hall towards the bathroom.

Catching a glance at yourself in the mirror, you looked exhausted — the clear fatigue that had been building up over the last couple of days settled and ended up with the after effects of the burnout showing on your skin. A cold shower was what you needed, icy water cascading your body, doing its very best to wake you up and rid you of the exhaustion.

You didn’t keep Steve waiting long, out of the shower in less than fifteen minutes and by then you could hear the slight clambering of dishes coming from the kitchen.

“Have you eaten yet?” You shouted loud enough to hear, combing your fingers through your semi-damp ends.

More clambering came through the door, before you heard a loud dramatically loud scoff, “Without you? Of course not!”

You grinned in the mirror, rolling your eyes at his quick wit before finally shutting off the lights and heading down the hallway to see what he was up to.

Once you got him in sight, his hands were drying the dishes in the rack and there was no longer the clutter of the dirty ones in the sink. He stacked the mixing bowls on top of one another before noticing your presence lingering behind him.

“I took out the trash and did some dishes. Didn’t want to get started without you.” He hung the damp towel over the oven handle before gesturing over to the empty trash can that was once overflowing.

“Steve, you’re a guest.” You chastised, going around the kitchen to pick up the small bits of trash that stuck around.

“A considerate one at the least.” He shrugged his shoulders, following you around like a lost puppy and offering his hand out to take the remnants of the garbage from you to toss into the bin himself.

“Well, thank you.” You grinned, moving around him to throw it in trash, before he grunted out a snicker.

“C’mon let’s sit down and eat before we get going.”

He had already brought some plates out, moving next to the drawers to grab some utensils. For whatever reason, warmth bloomed in your heart, happy to see that Steve was just as comfortable in your home as you were in his. Simplicity in him knowing where things were was a sort of happiness you couldn’t explain.

You bit your lip, walking over to the fridge to open it before looking over your shoulder. “Did you want me to make some more food?”

He shook his head, opening the box of cronuts and fishing two out for the both of you. “I’m okay, but I could whip up some scrambled eggs for you?”

He looked up from the sweets, seeing you nod your head with a desperate look on your face as you held your stomach. Last night you hadn’t eaten much so you really needed to make up for it by having a hearty meal to set you up for the rest of the day's work.

“Coming right up.” He drummed his fingers off the dining table, as you switched places.

The kitchen was soundly, not much with chatter this early in the morning, but with the sizzling from the pan as Steve poured in the eggy mixture and the soft buzz of the toaster oven where you warmed up the cronuts. It wasn’t like the morning at Steve’s where you waltzed around the kitchen — it was much slower, yet filled with the same amount of domesticity.

Steve could tell you were still tired, the grogginess seeping slowly out of your bones the more you sipped on your coffee and tapped your toes against the tiles watching the oven closely. You weren’t trying to hide it from him on purpose, but he noticed that with every small yawn you let out, you turned away from him, trying to brush it off with a headshake.

He didn’t put a spotlight on it though, just happily smiling to himself as he stirred the eggs and watched you in his peripheral vision. The high pitched ding rang through the small space and you sighed contently, slipping on the oven mitt and reaching for a pair of tongs to grab the pastries, plating them nicely on two plates.

“You can start eating if you want.” He insisted, turning his head to follow you when you skimmed past him

You hummed disapprovingly, setting them on the coffee table before making your way back to him,“No, come on I’ll wait for you. Let me wash the–”

He lunged over, getting in the way of you turning on the faucet, “Stop it, you’re gonna overwork yourself.”

You huffed at the absurdity of the situation, seeing as though he was the one who was already overworking himself and it was barely 8 in the morning.

“I’ve barely done anything all morning.” You argued with a light laugh, attempting to get past his arms and switch the water on.

Still he stood his ground, not letting your pushing move him with your nudges, “Considering the amount of work you did last night, you shouldn't be doing anything right now.”

You crossed your arms over your chest tilting your head at him. “You’re not gonna give up, are you?”

He shook his head, pointing back at the living room with the spatula still in hand. “Not a chance! Now go sit down, I’ll be there in a second.”

“Fine!” You drawled, heavily stomping your foot down and turning on your heel back to the living room.

Steve’s eyes never left yours, even when his back was turned to you, he could feel you attempting to tidy up your living room in the slightest way, to which he simply bellowed, “sit and relax,” before you were shuffling back into the couch cushions, mumbling how he had eyes on the back of his head like a mother would to which he laughed.

The kids would certainly agree.

After a few minutes, you heard the burner shut off, and his footsteps walking over to you.

“Breakfast is served.” he announced, setting the eggs in front of you.

“You’re an angel.” You looked at him, grinning as he handed you a fork from where it was hiding behind his back.

“I’m flattered.” He took a seat beside you and picked up his plate, “So tell me what’s the plan for today.”

You took a bite out of your eggs, chewing and swallowing them down. “Yesterday I made the frosting for the cupcakes so today we’re gonna make them and ice them.”

“What flavor?”

“Maple and Raspberry.”

His face twisted, lips curled up before he spoke, “I’ve never heard of that combination before.”

“No silly,” You covered your mouth from giggling, “The maple frosting is for the brown sugar cupcakes and the raspberry frosting is for the hibiscus cupcakes, but they also do have a little bit of raspberry in them.”

His bottom lip jutted out over his top one, nodding at your correction, before he lifted a playful brow at you. “But can’t you tell I trust you so much that I thought Maple and Raspberry would be good together?”

Steve trusted you more than he trusted himself which said a lot considering that he was usually pretty set and stone with the way he did things in his own life. After all, his parents didn't play a big role in his so he had to figure out a lot of it by himself. But when it came to you, trust came easy knowing you wouldn’t drop his hand if you told him you wouldn’t. That was the territory between you both, promising and keeping your word – never letting the other fall.

“If we have any extras maybe we can test it out.” You suggested with a nudge of your elbow into his arm as the two you both smiled and continued to eat.

“How was work yesterday? I didn’t get the chance to ask you over the phone.” You shifted your knees towards him.

His face covered with mock horror, while you playfully gasped, watching him set his plate down.“Hell. I honestly think it was the most grueling eight hours of my life.”

“It couldn’t be that bad.” You tried to reason with disbelief in your voice, because really, how bad could it have been?

“Being forced to work a shift with Keith is literal hell. I mean for one he could not shut up and for someone who claims they love movies, he just kept talking over all of the stupid tapes I put on to try to shut him out.” Steve rolled his eyes at the recollection, so thrilled that he wasn’t stuck in the same predicament today.

“And isn’t Robin working with him today?” You stifled your laughter, for your dear friend who was probably dealing with Keith all by herself right now.

There was a devious smirk replacing his distaste for yesterday realizing he had planned it accordingly without realizing.

“Yep, but she’s got a half day so technically she’s only spending half a day in hell with him.”

“You’re horribly considerate for someone who was upset that she called out for a girl.”

Steve shrugged nonchalantly, knowing he couldn’t be too upset at Robin. After all, she was his best friend and sure he was pissed for having to work with Keith, but he was happy that she finally got to spend time with Vicky, the same girl she had been pining over since forever.

“Had I known it was for Vicky I would’ve called out too and came down here to help out sooner, but I thought she caught the flu or something.” He turned his nose up, happier that his best friend didn’t catch anything bad except the love bug.

Your face contorted with irritation at yourself, waving your hand in the air, “Trust me when I say you’d be glad you skipped out on the mess yesterday.”

He didn’t skip a beat, shaking his head at you being ridiculous because he’d never miss out a chance to be with you.

“I wouldn’t have minded anyway.”

While his words were true, and you definitely believed that he wouldn’t have minded considering he cleaned up the place while you were showering, you felt a little hopeless knowing he was picking up the pieces when he didn’t have to.

“You know I still feel a little bad that you’re spending your day off helping me bake.” You placed the plate onto the table, letting your shoulders sulk deeper with your hands twiddling in your lap.

“Why?” He lifted his brows, genuinely confused at why you would feel bad for him where there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

You gave him a small shrug, looking up at him with uncertainty. “Because you should be doing something you want to do or better yet resting in bed preferably.”

He hated when you tried to look out for him more than yourself, immediately taking your nervous fingers away from your lap and holding them in his. You stared at him, holding on tight and wondering what was going to come out of his mouth.

“I am doing something I want to do with the person I prefer to be with right now.”

There was a twinge of vulnerability in his tone and you could see the way it painted his features whole. How you could tell, he was telling the truth about wanting to be here with you and not just doing it because he felt obligated to.

Your heart was seriously going to break itself out of your chest soon.

“You’re gonna regret saying that once I turn your kitchen into a disaster.” You joked, squeezing his hand in yours and not letting go.

He pursed his lips, shaking your comment off, preparing for the said disaster in his kitchen as long as you were going to be there. Becoming a deadweight with his hand in yours, you easily pulled his arm up, neck adjusting to get the time on his watch.

“If I’m planning it out in my head correctly then we should be done by this afternoon and that way you can drop me off before traffic hits and I’ll drive down tomorrow morn—”

“Pack a bag and spend the night.”

“Huh?”

“Just stay the night at mine that way you won’t need to drive down so early for the farmers market.” He explained like you should’ve known it was the plan all along.

You couldn’t help but throw your head back, staring at the ceiling as you called out his name in faux exasperation.

“Steveeeee.”

“What?” He pursed his lips slyly, pulling you by the shoulders to get you looking at him again, “you’ll get to spend a few extra minutes in bed and you’ll be saving gas. Basically killing two birds with one stone.”

“But I don’t want to be stuck in your hair the entire day.” You protested.

His brows lifted suspiciously as his lips twitched up trying to resist the grin, “Woah, you plan on gluing yourself to me or something? Cause if you are, I don’t know if I could forgive you for messing up my mane.”

“You’re impossible,” You nudge his shoulder with a weak fist failing to hide your smile, “I don’t want to be a burden. What if you have plans?”

“I do have plans, silly.” He began, reaching for your hand and rubbing his thumbs across your open palms, “and all of them involve you.”

“You know you’re making this very hard for me to decline.” You attempted to harden your features, but to no avail the smile crept through.

He patted your knee with a victorious look on his face. “Good. We can spend the day baking and prepping then we can sit back and relax. Maybe go out by the pool and sunbathe… Oh! And I got a new tape so we can watch it before bed or something.”

“Sounds tempting.” You fizzled through your teeth, squinting your eyes decisively.

“That means it’s working and you should say yes.” He whispered, like a voice of reason.

“Okay.”

“Great, now go pack a bag.” He patted your leg, one, two, three times before standing up and gathering your empty plates in a stack.

“Will you do me a favor while I do that?” You stood, trailing behind him into the kitchen where he was placing the dishes in the sink.

“Yes, I’ll wash the dishes—”

“No, not that!” You laughed, gesturing him towards the counters where a rack of cookies sat alongside other crafty materials. “I need you to package the cookies in little plastic baggies and tie them off with ribbon.”

“I can definitely do that, too.”

“I got a few done last night but fell asleep before I could finish.” You picked an example up, showing it to him.

“Don’t worry about it, I can do the rest.” He took the baggie from your hands, ushering you away with a shoo of his hands.

You thanked him before heading back into your bedroom quickly grabbing the canvas bag that hung above your door as you sifted through your drawers and closet for some clothes.

You picked out a floral dress for tomorrow's event, and settled for an extra set of intimates — you packed an oversized tee and some jeans in case but you knew Steve would let you borrow some of his if you needed and he still had your pair of overalls that he hadn’t given back yet.

“Do I double knot them?” Steve called out.

“Yeah and you can snip the ends to make them even!”

“Got it, thanks!”

You slung the bag over your shoulder, drawing the curtains and unplugging your lamp just in case since you’d be gone for the night… maybe even the entire weekend. The only thing left to pack was your skincare products, throwing them in a small pouch and making a mental note to set them on the bathroom counter when you got to his to prevent any from leaking out onto your clothes.

Steve finished off tying the last baggie of cookies, bunny earring them and snipping off little bits of the ends to try to make them look as cute as your sample did.

“What do you think?” He held his work of art up as he heard your footsteps coming closer.

You grinned, holding your hands out before he plopped it into your palm while you inspected it.

“They’re adorable!” You giggled, smoothing the frayed edges of the cut ribbon.

“Are you trying to be nice? You can tell me if they look bad.” He pouted, attempting to take it back from you to redo the bow knowing you took pride in anything that was yours.

You shook your head, keeping it towards your chest and away from him. “No, I’m serious! They look so cute, thank you for doing them.”

His cheek was met with a quick kiss, before you brushed past him putting down your things on the living floor before sauntering back into the kitchen with a mission to get everything ready to go.

“Y-you’re welcome,” He coughed out, kindly covering the crack in his voice with a sweet smile before he turned to watch you, “Anything else I can do?”

“Stop being so nice.” You poked out your tongue, beginning to pack the cookies into a brown bag for easier transportation.

He huffed, helping you without being asked, “Now that would turn me into Mike and I don’t think you’d want that.”

“Do you have some vendetta against him or something?” You questioned, hands hitting his with every grab and toss.

“Oh we all do” He snorted, swiftly sweeping the bag away from you, before pulling the keys out of his pocket.

“I’ll go put your stuff in my car.”

He proceeded to grab the rest of your belongings, lugging the bag you packed and the other stuff to his car all in one go. You triple checked all the appliances making sure everything was unplugged and turned off before you began drawing all the curtains to completely dim the place for the next couple of days.

“Ready to go?”

“Yep, just gonna grab the paintings.” You nodded, pointing to the small crate full of finished canvas that you would be selling at the market.

He didn’t let you even try, immediately beating you the distance and grabbing the box, holding it on his hip as he held the front door open for you. Sticking by your side as he watched you lock up, being your second eyes and even pulling on the handle for an extra precautionary measure.

The air conditioning had been running, thankfully cooling down the vehicle as you buckled in and watched from the rear view mirror while Steve closed the trunk shut and rounded his way into his seat and did the same.

“Why don’t you close your eyes until we get to my place?” He suggested, glancing over to you while turning on the radio trying to find a station you would enjoy.

A dramatic gasp left your lips as you slapped down his visor, opening the mirror to check yourself out. “Wow, do I look that tired?” You half joked, placing your hands on your cheeks in horror.

“Stop, that’s not what I meant,” He chuckled, reaching over to flip it back into place with a tight regretful smile, “What I meant to say was you didn’t get much sleep last night and it could help a little bit to just close your eyes before doing more work today.”

“But I feel bad, you’ll probably be so bored in complete silence.”

He wondered if you always worried about him this much and while it was cute, he’d have to tell you to stop eventually, because worrying would do you no good, especially if it was about him.

“You know, you’re gonna need to stop feeling bad for me all the time.” He lectured, tilting his head at you.

“I can’t help it when you’re stuck with me.”

“Will you please just try to nap at least?” His voice was more optimistic and you nodded skeptically.

“Fine, but you have to wake me up if you get bored.”

“Deal. Here, this’ll be more comfy.” He said, leaning across the console and reaching for the lever to lean your chair back all the way for max comfortability. You covered your face, laughing behind them as you wiggled and got comfier in the seat.

“Comfier?” He brought his hands back to the wheel, watching as you nodded your head with closed eyes.

“Way better than my couch.” You mumbled, positioning yourself towards him, still getting snug in the confines of his car.

He pulled up the emergency break, beginning the journey with one last look at you. “I’ll wake you up when we get there, sweetheart.”

Steve knew you were a natural in the kitchen — ran that place like it was your second home, but what he didn’t anticipate was how you worked when it came to strictly baking. Perhaps him suggesting the nap on the drive to his place was a great idea considering the fact that you were wide awake and running on that coffee he picked up.

He could barely keep up, straying behind to wherever you would go — oven, pantry, fridge, sink, repeat. It was endearing and far from something that Steve would categorize as chaos, in his eyes this was your comfort, somewhere it all just came to you naturally, which also included dishing out tasks, ones that Steve was happy to take up.

His bottom lip was pulled between his teeth, brows scrunching towards the center of his forehead while his hands squeezed the piping bag and wrists swirled it slowly around the tops of the cupcakes.

You bent at the hips, looking through the glass window of the oven checking up on the loaves that had been baking, making sure they were rising properly. Standing up straight, you dusted your hands sneaking up behind Steve to catch a glimpse from over his shoulders.

“You’re doing great!” You whispered cheerfully, not wanting to throw him off his focus.

His shoulders only bumped as he chuckled, head tilting abruptly to the side before finishing off the swirl and setting the piping bag down.

“It’s a little crooked don’t you think?” Steve frowned, picking up the treat and holding it out in front of him.

You shook your head, rubbing his shoulders, “They’re perfect and you’re a complete pro already.”

“Okay now that’s a reach.” He placed it down, turning to you with an unconvinced yet charming grin.

You tucked your cheek into your shoulder, shrugging, “What? I’m being serious! I messed up like a whole dozen cupcakes before I ever got good and here you are only three in and they’re gorgeous.”

“You’re really making me consider switching careers to part time cupcake piper you know that?”

“I’ll hire you on the spot.”

“Geez, offer a man some insurance first.”

Your face twisted apologetically before spreading with a self indulgently smile, “Probably can’t do that, but I can assure you I know how to properly dress a cut if you end up slicing your hand open!” You chirped sweetly, tapping his cheek with an affectionate pat chuckling against your touch.

The ding of the timer set off, prompting you to turn around and make your way back to the oven, slipping on the mits. A gush of hot air enveloped you as you took out the hot loafs, setting them on the stove. Quickly you shut the door, tossing off the mits as you inspected them with your eyes first.

“How do they look?” Steve asked, coming beside you as you poked the tip of a knife through the center checking if it was baked all the way through.

A quick second to examine the knife to ensure there was no residue was all it took before you nodded, “Wonderful, but they’ll look even better once I glaze them.”

“What do you need?” He rose his brows heading over to the cabinets ready to get whatever you needed.

Likewise you went towards the fridge, “Powdered sugar and preferably whole milk — ah ha! Whole milk it is.” you clicked your tongue, peeking past the door to see him looking through the tins and bags.

He cursed under his breath, closing the door a bit to meet your eyes. “I don’t think I’ve got any powdered sugar in here. I should've asked you last night if you needed anything before.”

You shook your head, turning back towards the fridge, “That’s okay, we can go to the store together later?” You suggested going to put the milk back.

He snapped his fingers, pointing at you. “Better idea, why don’t you go now and I’ll stay back and finish frosting up these cupcakes, hmm?”

“I could wait for you, I don’t need to frost them right away.”

“You need a break, sweetheart. I’ll be fine, here,” He paused, walking out of the kitchen with you trailing behind him into the living room, “Take my car and let me give you some cash.”

“Steve, I don’t need your money.” You countered with a light chuckle, taking the keys from him as he reached into his pocket shaking his head.

“No seriously, take it and get whatever you need. I feel like shit for not asking before and making sure I had all the ingredients.”

He truly felt horrible and you could tell in the way he scrunched his brows and shook his head more at himself than towards you. The last thing he wanted was to fuck up your whole process that he knew you always took the time to run through effortlessly.

“You’re already doing enough, you know.” You remind him with a tender rub to his shoulder, “It means a lot…you talking to me over the phone, bringing breakfast over this morning, and taking all the way here to make sure I wasn’t lonely.”

It was a true sentiment that you spoke and meant every word of. You were sure that no amount of baked goods or thank yous would ever be enough to show Steve how grateful you were.

“I wanted to, you’ve done so much for everyone, me especially.” He knew you went out of your way for everyone including himself, putting everyone first except you.

“Well, I wanted to.” You assured him.

“In that case, I want you to take this and get whatever we need. Please?” He placed the bills in the palm of your hand, smiling when you nodded and palmed it.

“Do you want anything specific? I think I’m just gonna pick up a bag of powdered sugar and a small thing of white chocolate chips for the scones.” You picked up your purse you had thrown onto the coffee table where you arrived.

He shook his head, walking you to the front door and pulling it open, waiting as you slipped back on your footwear. “I’m alright, I don’t need anything. Just drive safely and don’t be scared to use the horn if you need it.”

You let out a laugh, tiptoeing and placing a kiss on his cheek, “I will and don’t stress about the cupcakes, they already look perfect.”

As you buckled your seatbelt and adjusted the mirrors, you took one more look out the windshield, waving a “see you in a bit,” to the boy watching from the driveway. It was funny to think that the first time you’d been there, you had been sitting in your own car anticipating the entire moment of meeting everyone and now you were there in his car knowing you’d be back in no time.

Hawkins wasn’t new territory to you. You have frequented the place for years, but it was just a little funny that throughout all the years, these roads never led you to Steve, and all your friends for that matter, until now.

The grocery store you walked into was the same one where you met Robin and from there the rest was history. Funny enough, you hadn’t been there since that interaction — it felt like forever but at the same time it had only been a matter of weeks. Time was silly thing, and it just so happened that all the fates aligned in some magical way.

You strolled through the aisles with a small basket in hand, picking up the necessities while also checking out what they had in stock this time of year. It was in the produce section that you ran into the sweetest lady in town, Joyce, who was seemingly glaring at the tower of apples debating on which ones to pick.

“Granny Smiths, Fuji, and Galas are the go-to if you’re gonna use them for baking, but if not then any will do, just make sure none of them have noticeable dents.”

You snuck up beside her, stifling your laughter as she jumped for the initial scare, then again, but with a smile on her face when she realized that it was you.

“Honey! Oh my god, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” She quickly engulfed you in a hug, before you finally greeted her properly.

“Are you here with Steve?” She asked, looking around to see if he was nearby.

You shook your head, checking out the pile of apples and picking some for you and him as a snack.. “No, he’s actually back at his place frosting cupcakes for tomorrow.”

An impressed smile was plastered on her face, her cheeks lifting with a cheeky blush, “He’s just the best huh?” she teased, as you giggled and rolled your eyes playfully.

“Who’s the best?”

The deep voice bellowed a few feet behind you, prompting you to look over your shoulder, and down came Hopper sporting a surprising pale pastel button up, lugging two boxes of Coca-Cola. He gave you a pointed look, something that silently said, “please don’t comment on my non-work attire,” to which you honored, obviously.

“Hey Hop,” You waved, reaching out to give him a small hug after he placed the drinks into the cart. He patted your arm, before letting his drape over your shoulder as you laughed and let him be.

“We were talking about Steve,” Joyce started, “He’s back at home helping her out with the bake sale for tomorrow.”

He peered down on you with a stern nod, “Well isn’t that great. Drove down here yourself? Car not giving you any issue right?”

He really was a dad right down to his core. If you told him how you’ve been avoiding driving your car for the past couple of days, he would probably suggest he go check it out then and there.

“Oh no, Steve actually picked me up this morning and let me take his car to come here for some stuff we needed.”

“He let you drive his car?” He questioned, taken aback and clearly so as he dropped his arm and propped it up on his hip.

“I know, crazy right. He has a lot of trust in me.” You coughed up a laugh, while Joyce piped in something about how she thought it was sweet of him to do.

“Says a lot considering he never even lets me take her for a spin.” He shook his head, dramatically clicking his tongue at all the times he had failed to get the keys to the Harrington vehicle.

Joyce groaned, tilting her head at him.“That’s because you’re a forty year old man that drives like a drunk sixteen year old on prom night.”

“Ouch!” He shouted, face coated in fake hurt as she brushed him off.

Turning her attention back to you when you asked, “Will I be seeing you guys tomorrow?”

She smiled brightly, clapping her hands towards herself, “Oh of course! I’m helping Karen run her book exchange booths.”

“And I am acting as security.” Hop announced, plucking an apple and taking a bite out of it.

“Just you? Where’s the rest of your unit?” You pestered him jokingly.

He only shrugged, mouth full of half chewed up apples as he replied.“I have no idea, but the event will need some securing.”

“Honey, it’s a farmers market. I don't think there’s anything to be securing.” Joyce reasoned.

“We’ll see about that.” He shot back with no harm.

Their bickering was always light hearted and fun, something you could appreciate because it was the laughter that always kept the relationship lively. And in any relationship for that matter, laughter was like the heartbeat to it all, something so witty, but essential — you wondered if you and Steve sounded like that from time to time.

You took a deep breath, smiling as you opened your arms, and reached over to give Joyce a farewell hug.

“Well I should get going, I don’t want to be gone too long.”

“Of course, tell Steve we said hello and we’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Will do!” You said, pulling away, and doing the same to Hopper.

“Bye kid.” He patted your head before letting you go your separate way.

The drive back home was as pleasant as the drive over, just lacking in company. You didn’t think that you’d get used to driving Steve's car without him being there in the passenger, but still, it was a thoughtful offer and it did give yourself some time to clear your head of all the stress that you endured yesterday though much of it was already gone since you woke up this morning.

You placed it in park when you got into his driveway, grabbing all the grocery bags in one go before you exited the car and made sure it was locked up. The front door was surprisingly unlocked, meaning Steve hadn’t moved since you left. You’d lecture him about leaving the door unlocked when there were freshly frosted cupcakes that burglars would most definitely take first.

“Steve, I’m back!” You called out, toeing off your sandals at the foyer before you made your way into the living room dropping his keys back onto the coffee table.

“Still in the kitchen!”

You lugged the bags along, lifting them in the air as you walked through the doorway.

“I know you told me you didn’t want anything but I ended up grabbing a bag of tangerines and I was thinking we could make some drinks for when we go out to the — oh my god!”

They fell with a heavy clunk to the ground and thank goodness there wasn’t any glass in there, but the poor apples would definitely be bruised. Steve turned his head over his shoulder, quickly shutting off the water as you stared at the loaves sitting on a raised plate as the excess icing dripped off the sides.

“Sur-prise?” He cracked a nervous smile, wiping his hands dry, hoping to receive the right reaction from you.

“You iced the loaves?!”

If your tone came sharper than you meant, he didn’t notice it and neither did you. Steve was too busy watching the surprise wash over your features — the way your eyes widened and mouth hung open.

He leaned against the counters, still watching you until your eyes finally met his. Picking up the index card you had brought from home, and walking over to the pantry, pulling out a now empty bag of powdered sugar, and placing them on the counter.

“I may or may not have lied about the powdered sugar but yeah, I read the recipe card and followed it to the tee.”

He paused, opening a drawer to retrieve a spoon, scooping up a little of the excess that dripped into a bowl before handing it over to you, “Here, give it a taste, please.”

You could tell he was nervous, eyes leaking anticipation while he held it out, his hands nearly shaking. It was cute that he got so nervous, like you could ever be mad at him for trying his hand at something so thoughtful of him to do. So you took the spoon, sticking it into your mouth before you promptly hummed around it, nodding your head at him with wide eyes that should’ve been enough to tell him he did great.

“Fuck did I mess it up?” He spoke with an uneasy feeling, swiping his finger into the bowl and grabbing a sample to taste, pressing his lips together to try to decipher if something was terribly wrong.

You shook your head hastily, removing the spoon from your mouth before twirling it in the air, “No you nailed it, like absolutely nailed it!”

Still even with your assurance, he seemed to doubt himself, picking up the bowl for himself, moving it around to test the consistency of the frosting. He held it out towards you, tipping it back and forth.

“It’s not too runny? I think I added more than a capful of milk.”

Instead of trying to ease his worries with words, you simply rounded the corner, taking the bowl away from him so all he could focus on was you. It was cute that now you could see what Steve meant when he said you go into your head all too much — maybe he was right when he said self-doubt would get you nowhere but a headache.

“You did perfect,” You began, dusting off the powdered sugar off his t-shirt, looking up at him with a grin, “not too runny, not too thick. Just right.”

It was enough to stop him in his tracks, ironing the worries away in the same way he did yours more often than not. The hand on his chest didn’t leave, when the words stopped, in fact you kept it there, smoothing the wrinkles of his shirt without really thinking much of it, while Steve tried to keep his composure and heart in his chest.

“S-so what did you buy?” He deterred his sights, looking towards the floor where the groceries still sat.

You squinted, hand stopping its movements, as you flashed him a sneaky smile shaking your head before slightly digging your fingers into the dough of his chest.

“No, we’re not just gonna skim over that whole thing…you lied to me!” You shrilled.

And like that, the kitchen erupted with laughter, Steve failing to keep up the innocent act, and you beyond astounded that you fell for it. He held his hands up in defense as playfully pushed him away, even stepping back as he tried to move closer, just to be theatrical.

“Okay technically I didn’t lie lie!” He countered with his hands waving in the air. You crossed your arms over your chest, raising a brow at him, “I thought I didn’t have enough of it but after you left, I measured it out and like the recipe said, a half cup sugar for each of the loaves and I just so happen to have one cup.”

He was the sweetest boy you’ve ever met: not a chance you could be upset even if it was just pretend.

Steve had already done so much for you in less than 24 hours. From dealing with your anxiety over the phone, to driving all the way to you, and then on top of that trying to take the stress off your plate.

There was a pinch between your brow, beginning to grow deeper and your lip caught between your teeth. The longer you didn’t say anything, the more Steve caught the tell-tale signs of your guilt knowing you hated that he was doing so much and you finally got a break you deserved.

He was just as quick to reassure you, stepping forward and testing the waters to see if you’d close the space and to which you did, pouting up at him with an adorable frown until your chest met his in a hug.

You could feel him smile against your head, hands wrapped around your body as he tightened the hold tenderly, “I wanted to do it. You needed a break.” He murmured into your hair as you chuckled into the fabric of his shirt.

It felt routine by now, and you didn’t need to thank him verbally when he gave you a nod as soon as he pulled away and saw the sincere look upon your face. The way he was able to read you like an open book felt personal, the only kind of way that you wanted to be read by him. Ins and outs of you already memorized so carefully with little to no room to question if he was right or not.

You didn’t want him to question anything, especially not you.

Taking a deep breath, you shakily let it out, slowly pulling away from each other until you looked over the counters and to the ground.

“Tangerines.” You called out, moving across the tiles.

“Huh?”

“I picked up some tangerines at the grocery store.”

You handed him the netted bag of fruits that he easily ripped open and let them spill over the table top, “They’re in season?” He pursed his lips, inspecting the fruit carefully.

You nodded, reaching out for the remnants of its packaging, smoothing it out to show him the label, “They’re from Long Beach, California.”

It piqued his interest, looking over at you like you’d know the answer to his curiosity, “Do you think they grow on Sunrise Boulevard?”

You giggled, shrugging your shoulders while you unloaded the rest of the items. “Probably. I’ve never been so I don’t know for sure.”

“We should go someday.”

He extended the invitation as if you, a paycheck to paycheck living individual, could ever afford a trip like that in a heartbeat. But it was the fact that he extended it in the first place that had your insides twisting and turning like a lovesick fool.

We. The possibility of you two going together. And he said it as sweetly as it sounded, honey dripping from his lips, with a smile oh so beautiful that you could really believe that maybe you two could go together one day — even if the rest of your friends tagged along.

As long as he was there with you there was always the possibility of we.

Steve often transported you back to middle school, the days where you caught yourself kicking your feet and blushing like an idiot over a boy who said all the right things. The only difference is Steve didn’t let you crash and burn on the ground. With him, things feel different.

“We should.” You said, lifting your hanging head, not caring anymore about hiding the red flush of your cheeks.

“Good.” He smiled with a nod that he was more so giving himself, his brain spitting out all of the celebratory phrases it could think of after seeing the double vision of your rose blush.

For once, the both of you seem to be a bit braver in your endeavors, holding the intimate eye contact in the silence of birds chirping from outside the flung windows and the whistle of the wind. If you two were a cartoon animation, your hearts would have been jumping out of your chests, and interlocking hands by now.

His eyes didn’t stare blankly at you, and yours certainly didn’t shoot dangers through him. It was as if you both were swimming in each other, taking one another in without a single word spoken because none needed to be said.

You both knew it and you both could hear it in the silence.

“Why don’t we go for a swim, yeah? Call it a day with the baking and just… just spend some time?”

Together he wanted to say. Something that should’ve slipped freely but instead died in his throat, too scared to let you know what spending time together really meant to him, between the both of you, actually.

“I’d love that.”

You kicked Steve out of the kitchen, claiming that he could at least let you finish up the cleaning after he had lied to you about the powdered sugar. You could hear him from the stairs, still arguing that it wasn’t really a lie, making you shake your head and snort while you wiped down the counters.

He emerged as you finished washing the sticky icing bowl, wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks with two towels under his arm. You were sure, he caught you staring for a second, before kicking you out the kitchen to go get changed while he made you both drinks and skimmed the pool for dead leaves and critters.

Getting changed in the confines of his bedroom felt like the first time you had been there all over again. Only this time you weren’t a stranger and he’s not waiting on the other side of the door for you to be done.

This time you’re a piece of his life and he’s waiting for you.

Slipping into your swimwear, you caught a glimpse of yourself in his mirror. It had occurred to you that this was the first time you would be as bare as you would be in front of him. Sure you weren’t a prude or anything, but you always felt a bit shy, and your feelings for Steve didn’t make it any better.

Not wanting to leave him waiting for so long, you plucked a random shirt from his dresser and threw it over yourself before jogging down the stairs and out the sliding door where he stood with the pool stick in hand, grabbing whatever that was floating on the surface.

“I’m back,” You made your presence known, moving beside him to see the small pile of leaves he gathered on the side of the pool.

Your nose turned up at the little critters that crawled away into the grass, before Steve whistled and pointed to the shaded umbrella, “M’almost done over here, I put your drink over there.”

The pool loungers had been tugged under the shade with towels laid out over the cushions and a variety of snacks sitting along inside the drinks.

“I just juiced some of the tangerines and stirred it with some tequila and margarita mix I had left. If it’s too strong, I can add more juice or make you another.”

You thanked him, walking over to take a seat and sip on the drink while you waited for Steve to finish the pool maintenance. A lot of his home was taken care of by him, and you could understand why if his parents weren’t home too often – it forced him to take up everything and keep everything in order.

You wondered why Steve never gave himself the credit he deserved. Only in his early twenties already taking on what most people in their late twenties still had a hard time getting a grove with. Yet he made it look flawless with little to no complaints about his situation and how this responsibility might have been too much for him.

But deep down in the pit of your stomach, you wondered if this place was really his home or a home he was looking after until he found his. It wasn’t entirely the same situation as yours, hell, you got out the moment freedom striked.

Steve had everything: enough money to pay for rent at a decent apartment nearby, all the life skills in the world, and himself — you just wondered why he was staying.

“How is it?” He called out, back facing you from the other side of the backyard where he stuffed the pool scopper back into the shed.

Your hand raised above your forehead blocking the sun as he walked towards you, the other picked up his drink handing it to him when he sat on the end of your lounger, thankfully blocking the remnants of rays for you.

You watched him take a sip, nodding his head at himself before looking over to you for your opinion.

“Good! Not too strong actually, I think the tangerine juice is great.” You bubbled, taking another sip of yours before placing it back on the table with a clink.

He hummed through his drink, before setting it down and taking a look at you. You had made more space for him on the lounger despite him having his own only a few feet away. Your legs tucked under yourself, and arms came to wrap around your midsection, attempting to hide from his gaze despite his t-shirt that was already drowning you.

You were naturally sheepish, and he knew that but he hoped you weren’t doing this just because he suggested it. The last thing he wanted was to force you into doing something you didn’t want to be doing. Hell, the both of you could be inside sitting in silence, and Steve would be happy, long as you were there.

“You know, we don’t have to swim if you don’t want to. We could just sit out here and talk, whatever you want okay? Whatever is comfortable—”

“No, no, I’m fine! I—I’m just a little shy, that’s all.” You shook your head, attempting to relax your tense muscles, untucking your legs from underneath you.

He grinned, nodding slowly, as his fingers grazed the sleeve of his shirt on your body. “That's okay, nothing wrong with that,” he assured you, meeting your eyes with a impish glint, “nice shirt by the way.”

“Thanks… for letting me borrow it, I mean.”

You looked down at the graphic, finally aware that it was an Eagles t-shirt, that unbeknownst to you was one of his favorites and only worn during special sports occasions. However he decided in his mind that anytime you wanted to wear the garment, it was a special occasion in itself. He wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

“Always.” He grinned, looking down into his lap, not wanting to frighten you with his ceaseless content.

The heat of Indiana wasn’t as fierce as it had been for the past summer and you hoped it would stick around, at least until tomorrow so you all could survive a pleasant farmers market afternoon. For now, you’d enjoy whatever mercy the season would have on the town with no complaints, especially when there was a mansion with a view sitting right beside you.

“Wanna get in?” You snapped out of your thoughts, eyes following his movements as he asked you and took another sip.

You sat up, legs extending over his as you looked out at the aquamarine reflection of the water. “Uh, yeah, do you have any sunblock, by any chance?”

He clicked his tongue, tapping his fingers against your shins. “Shit, yeah, sorry I totally forgot. I think the kids used up the last bottle but I have the spray kind, if that’s okay?”

“Of course.” You nodded, lifting your legs and letting him slide away.

He walked through the sliding door again, and you could hear the slight rustle of him looking through cabinets and cursing at himself that the kids must have misplaced it. With him still busy you took a deep breath, tugging the shirt off your body and smoothing your fingers over your skin.

You had nothing to be insecure about, not when it came to Steve's eyes. He’d seen you stripped down with your emotions – sadness, insecurity, exhaustion and everything in between. Him seeing you in a bathing suit was far less intimidating than it seemed.

“Sorry, I think Dustin must’ve knocked the cap off or something but it still sprays and… oh, h-hey.”

The sunblock slipped from his hands, poorly failing to juggle back into his grip in time before it clanked against the concrete. You didn’t give him an answer, simply lifting your brow before you choked out a fit of laughter, hunching over yourself to grab your tummy.

Steve didn’t mean to be such a man, but just a split second ago, you were covered up in his t-shirt which alone made his head spin, and now, he was seeing skin that had never been exposed before and he felt like he might pass out and knock his head into the concrete. Perhaps it would have been a terribly gruesome way to go out, but at least you were the last thing he got to look at before he went.

“I—I’m sorry!” He stuttered, turning away sharply as his throat bopped with a swallow, “I didn’t mean to say that, it kinda just slipped out. Feel free to totally hit or slap me right now, because that was super duper weird of me and—”

You stood up, prompting him to seal his lips as his eyes slowly turned to watch you pick up the sunscreen, beginning to spray the formula onto your arms, working it into your skin.

You looked up at him through your lashes, washing away his embarrassment as he saw you shake your head.“It’s fine, really. I don’t think it was weird, at all… just super duper funny.” You teased, scrunching your nose at him.

He breathed out a sigh of relief, still looking apologetic in his features.“I feel like an idiot,” he added, rubbing the back of his neck stiffly.

You tilted your head at him, wiggling the bottle in the air. “You can make up for it by getting my back for me?”

He took it from your hands, watching as you spun around and pulled your hair away. “You sure?”

You hummed, “Positive, unless you’re gonna say ‘hi’ to my behind too.” You joked, turning over your shoulder to see him scoff a laugh before spraying you down.

He was careful, asking permission before his hands even touched your skin, and then again when he had to work the product under the straps of the suit. His fingertips are light and gentle, and at the same time meticulous, making sure not to miss a spot and let a single sliver of your skin get burned by the sun.

“Want me to get yours too?” You suggested, spinning back around when his hands finally dropped from you.

“Only if you want to.”

“Spin, Harrington.” You twirled your finger in the air, grasping the sunblock and getting to work.

It was different, feeling your touch without a layer of clothing in the way. Sure, you’ve both slept in the same bed, practically in each other's arms with him shirtless, and you two definitely touched each other in the softest way that no one else did. But your touch right now was suffocating, eating him whole as he tried to breathe through it and tell himself that you were too good for him.

“You have a million beauty marks.” You murmured, breath fanning over his neck making him go dizzy.

He swallowed, turning over his shoulder to watch you rub the product over his shoulder blades, your fingers working mindfully under his gaze.

“B-beauty marks? Moles, you mean?”

You met his eyes, shaking your head with the softest look upon your face. “I prefer to call them beauty marks.”

“That’s cute.” He whispered as a reply.

“Yours are too.” You complimented, feeling him exhale soothingly while your hands worked the rest of the skin, ending it off by tapping your fingers against the beauty marks, “all done.”

You twisted the bottle shut, tossing it on the lounger for later when you two would have to reapply. Turning towards him you ran your hands up and down your arms, waiting for what was next.

“Are you a strong swimmer?” He lifted his brows, watching you think.

You blinked, thinking of all the rare moments you’ve ever been in a body of water there in the midwest. “J-just a little. Why?”

“Don’t want you to drown.” He said, a smirk growing on his face.

You shook your head, not understanding what he was getting at.

“Why would I— Steve!”

A squeal ripped through your throat, as he scooped you up into his arms bridal style, carefully walking you both over to the edge of the pool where hid your face in his chest expecting a gush of water without warning. He couldn’t help but chuckled, adjusting your higher with a small toss until you wrapped your arms around his neck securely.

“You ready?” He bellowed out into the air with a hoot, cradling your head gently for extra measure.

“Whenever you are.” You pinched your eyes shut, tucking yourself more into him as if that would make it less worse.

And like that, cold water engulfed your body all at once. Even in the big splash, Steve’s arms never left your body, keeping himself glued to you as you both came up to the surface and your hands brushed your hair away from your face.

“I got you,” Steve laughed, shaking the water away from his face and never daring to let his arms leave your body.

“It’s so cold!” You whimpered, immediately wrapping your legs around his hips, pulling yourself closer to his body where your jaw trembled against his collarbone.

He could feel you shaking in his arms, taking a bit longer to adjust to the coolness given the fact that you hadn’t been to a pool in ages. His hands ran up and down you back, pausing in between passes to knead your skin.

“You’ll warm up soon,” He guaranteed, kissing the side of your head before resting his chin on top of yours, the two of you fastened together with a stitch until your shivering fizzled out.

Usually Steve’s pool was filled with the bustle and shouts of children, water splashing everywhere and him standing on the sidelines with his hands on his hips, reminding the kids not to run on the wet pavement.

Though today it might have been the most peaceful it’s ever been.

Turns out, you’re not the best swimmer after all these years with little to no access to any pool or beaches, but you are one hell of a floater, giggling as Steve waded the water beside you, mimicking waves and moving you along the expanse.

You two attempted to race, doing laps back and forth, but you gave up a few seconds in, elbows resting on the concrete as you watched each stride he took against the water until he was back to you. Rubbing his eyes, he caught his breath and looked at you in disbelief.

“You beat me?!”

“By a long shot.” You joked, before he playfully rolled his eyes and swam closer to you.

His hands sneaking underwater reaching out to grip your thighs and throw them over his hips where you quickly held on tight as we took you both to the center of the expanse. There was little to no room between you both anymore, the personal space bubble had popped long ago and now it was a shared out that sheathed the both of you.

Steve didn’t think he could let you go, even if he tried.

With your backs beneath the sun, everything felt right. Clearing the air, you breathed in the mix of chlorine and each other. The only sounds were the whistle of the wind, the swoosh of the water around you, and your harbored inhales and exhales.

It was all consuming in the best way possible.

For Steve, the city he had lived in his entire life felt as cruel as the loves in his past. And there were a lot of loves: platonic and romantic, yet nothing felt entirely like this – not even close. There was always a flaw, a blemish in time that made the past never work out the way he had hoped, but there was a gut wrenching realization that ever since he saw you, there was no need to look back at those shortcomings.

He was quieter than usually, eyes studying you without even realizing it, still you didn’t shrink under his view. You followed his sights, watching as his orbs moved from a part of your face to the next, taking you in like an art piece, memorizing every detail like his life depended on it.

And for a moment a wave of realization washed over you. The way you were in Steve’s arms, the way he was looking at you, the way you looked at him — friends didn’t do the things you both did, especially when your other friends were around.

Steve was just your friend when he gave you a long-sleeve to borrow, drove down to your art gallery, talked you through your worst moments, offered you a bed to sleep in, slept with you in said bed.

But maybe you and Steve were never destined for the whole friendship thing. You both had crossed so many lines unforgiven, and there was no way either of you could deny the truth by saying goodbye.

You had to step into it and let go.

You swallowed, arms tightening around his neck while your chest rose with a deep puff. Only then did he snap out of the haze, blinking slowly until he shook his head and snapped his eyes to yours silently apologizing to which you brushed off with a half-hearted smile.

“You know, some beauty marks have meaning.” You revealed, hushed tone just loud enough for him to catch against the breeze.

His breath hitched, tips of his fingers caressing your spine, tracing it up and down absentmindley like second nature.“Y-yeah?”

You nodded, eyes meeting him, almost pleading for him to let you. “Can I tell you about them?”

“Please do.”

His grip on you was tight enough to allow you to let go, letting your arms float freely in the water, before thumbing the marks on his skin delicately.

“You’ve got a bunch of tiny ones by your eyes,” You whispered, carefully swiping over them with your thumbs, “these ones mean that you’re hard working, which you are.” You said obviously.

He’d be willing to work harder to make whatever this was permanent. To wake up from the dark night he’d been sleeping through since he could remember. He’d do it all, if it meant getting to wake up to you, everyday… to wake up and be yours, it was that simple.

Your thumb moved down to the double freckles on his cheek, murmuring, “Sensitive.”

“Like a cry baby?” He questioned, still full of jokes despite the inner monologue that was eating his entire being up.

You breathed through your laugh, holding his face still as you clarified. “Like someone in touch with their emotions.”

Steve never had the best upbringing, you knew that, and while your understanding of the whole picture was very little, you knew that he didn’t let that define him. He didn’t treat his past as an excuse to be horrible to other people, in fact it made him better. Softer in his approach to situations that he did his best to guide instead of control.

Honesty was the freckle on his chin. Steve never tried to prove himself to be a good person, worthy of something greater than the things he was given, even when he was. He had trusted the wrong people in the past, did and said things he was never proud of, but he didn’t ever pretend like those moments didn’t happen.

His reputation, the one that should've scared you away and prevented you from getting to know the real him, was in your eyes, the most delicate thing about him. He didn’t try to put up a perfect facade for you, but he did prove that he threw out all the bad, every cloak that hid his true colors and daggers that fought every truth — he threw them out, not to become someone new, but to finally be him.

How you wished you could’ve been brave enough to say it all because you wanted him to so desperately know.

And how Steve wished he could dive into your mind and swim through your thoughts as you stared at him with complete tenderness. Something he didn’t think he could ever get used to because what about him could possibly make you go slack-jawed? He didn’t know what you saw him, but quite frankly he’d listen if you’d tell him. He’d listen to anything you had to say.

“Any other ones?” His grips moved down to your waist squeezing gently and seeking the connection in the midst of your silence.

You hummed, giving him a soft smile before he reciprocated it, visibly enchanted by your ability to get lost in him the way he got lost in you.

“You’ve got a special one right here,” You let your fingers brush over his cupid's bow, caressing the spot back and forth.

His eyebrows jutted up curiously, breath fanning over your thumb as he spoke. “Special, huh? You’ve gotta tell me now, sweetheart.”

He pulled you in just a little closer, your chest bumping into his and your foreheads just inches apart, and like that, you were a little more brave with nothing left to be scared of. Your hands cradled his face, forcing him to keep his eyes on yours with every word that left your mouth because you wanted him to understand, to see himself the way you saw him.

“Empathy. The world lacks it, but somehow you’re full of it.” Your words flowed with conviction as does the admiration that sparkled in your eyes.

“H-how?” His voice broke, as if he could barely believe that he had an ounce of it within him.

You rolled your shoulders back, determined to get him to see it in himself. “Well for starters, you’re a great listener. Always listening to me ramble about dumb stuff and—”

“Nothing you say is dumb.” Steve said sincerely, fingers caressing your back warmly against the coolness of the water.

“See, you’re also good at reassuring me.” You grinned, teasing him because he proved himself wrong.

He rolled his eyes comically as you went on. “And you always try your best to understand me, even when I’m a mess and nothing makes sense. You try and you put yourself in my shoes to try to understand.”

“I always want to understand you.” He murmured, eyes staring into yours with fondness that was difficult to not shy away from, but you forced yourself to bear it.

“I know, and that’s why you’re such a good person, Steve.” You smiled, rubbing your thumbs along his cheekbones following his structure.

Steve Harrington was quite possibly the best person you’d ever get the honor of knowing the way that you did. You truly wanted to share him with the world, to give everyone a look at the finest person who was everything and more jumbled up into one being, but at the same time you wanted to be selfish, to keep him to yourself because no one deserved him, sometimes you felt like you didn’t either.

You just got lucky.

“I hate not knowing what you’re feeling.” He admitted, swallowing thickly, remembering all those times he had to poke and prod in order to get down to the root of your sadness.

You nodded understandingly, hating how closed off you were in the past. “Sometimes I’m too scared to say it outloud.”

You wanted to be more like Steve, not wanting to be defined by the things that you hate, the things that you were afraid of, or the things that haunted you in the middle of the night. You wanted to throw out your sword and live in peace just being defined for what you loved… the people you loved.

“Why?”

Your eyes met his curious ones with reluctance, nerves kicking into gear more than ever because you knew what saying the truth meant.

“B-because, I don’t want to mess things up.” You said, nervously massaging the back of his neck with gentle touches hoping he couldn’t feel them shake.

All this time you thought it was black and white. Too scared to let the past go because of the years you had put into them, and too scared to move forward because you didn’t want a repeat. The extremes that held you back, believing that failing once meant failing forever — all of that meant nothing anymore.

All you could see in your mind was you and Steve intertwined, all of the bad that you had thought up was put behind you and you never wanted to look away from him.

“You couldn’t mess anything up, not between us.” He said firmly, one hand loosening from your body to grab at your elbow, bringing it back to his cheek where he wanted you to feel him.

All this time he thought it was burning red. Chaos and dramatics without ever solving anything. The highest of highs and lowest of lows, a dangerous path that never led him anywhere except heartache and pain. The treacherous journey that was always destined for failure — he didn’t feel that anymore.

All he could see in his head was him sneaking back and forth from your town with you in his bed, and nothing would ever be the same.

“Are you sure?” Yours eyes locked, his washing away any lingering feelings of doubt with a simple nod.

You saw the thick swallow and bop of his throat while his hands traveled to your jaw, holding you there. “I’m positive because I’ve been feeling too.”

And like that you both were wide awake.

“S-say it please,” Steve pleaded running his thumbs over the bottom of your lip wanted to feel it so he knew it was real.

“I-I could show you instead.” You murmured, taking his wrist in your hand, feeling the thumb of his pulse.

He nodded, resting his forehead against yours, feeling you breathe against him like a lifeline reaching out.

“Please.”

Finally you both were letting it go, stepping into it together because what you had was golden, like daylight.

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

a/n: happy new year everyone!!! I’ve missed you all so much and I’m so sorry I’ve been gone for so long — I took a break from posting as avidly in order to prioritize letting myself rest up and enjoy my break. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and a big thank you to my love, Effie, for helping me proofread this and always giving me the best advice ever!!! I can’t wait for you all to read the next chapter!

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

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

I saw you were open to nurse!steve ideas so how about their first date? they’re both nervous bc they’re seeing each other outside the usual hospital room but still suuuper gone for the other already and you both realize yes this is my person 🥹

AN | No, but please. This is so soft and I just know that these two always knew they were meant to be 🥺 This can be read as a companion piece to the below but also as a stand alone!

Warnings | None

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.3k

Masterlist | Nurse Steve, Steve, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You had no clue why you were so nervous. It wasn’t like it was some weird blind date, or some total stranger, this was Steve. You were still getting to know each other but he’d already seen you at your absolute lowest point.

Really it could only go up from there and yet, you were staring at the closet, unsure of what to possibly wear. Your stomach was in absolute knots, as you tried to decide between the more casual option of jeans and a nice shirt or a dress. He hadn’t said exactly what you were doing, but you still wanted to look nice.

“Ugh,” you sighed as you settled on a simple sundress, white with some eyelet embroidery. It was a warm evening and you figured that, along with a cardigan and some flats would be perfect. You weren’t going to risk heels, you’d only just gotten comfortable with using your left leg again, “this will have to do.”

Steve was sitting in his car outside your house, trying not to have a mental breakdown. His nerves had led him to being almost half an hour early, clutching a bouquet of sunflowers and daisies tightly in his hand; sunshine for his sunshine. He was trying to give himself a pep talk, trying to tell himself that everything would be okay. He already knew you, and that was what was sending him into a tizzy. He already liked you way more than he could put into words and both thrilled and terrified him.

After letting some more time pass, he decided that five minutes early was enough to be socially appropriate. He took a deep breath, exhaling long and slow before stepping out of the car and bringing the flowers along. He counted each step as he walked to your front door, reminding himself that everything would be fine. But as he rang your doorbell and anxiously awaited your arrival, his heart felt like it was about to burst out of his ribcage. If he wasn’t a medical professional he might have thought it was just about to do that.

A few long moments passed before you opened the door and gave him the prettiest smile he had ever seen. All coherent thoughts in his mind seemed to leave as he looked you over. Holy fuck. How were you so pretty? It shouldn't have been allowed because he wasn’t sure how he was going to survive you. You would be the sweet, beautiful death of him.

“Hi Steve,” your face flushed with warmth as you tried not to stare at the handsome man on your doorstep. He was dressed smartly in a pair of well-fitting jeans and a dark button down with the sleeves rolled up, a beautiful arrangement of flowers in his hand. Oh no. He was not making this easy on you, “you’re here.”

“Yeah,” he smiled softly as he let out a small laugh, “did you not expect me?”

“I did,” you grinned, “but I don’t know…I thought maybe I’d made all this up in my mind and you weren’t real after all.”

“I assure I’m very real,” he held out the flowers to you with a small flourish, “and these are for you. I wasn’t sure what your favorite flowers were, but I hope you like them…sunflowers and daisies suit you.”

“Thank you,” your heart felt like it was about to burst as you took them gently, “it happens to be your lucky day - these are my favorites. Do you want to come in for a few? I want to put them in water real quick.”

“Of course,” you turned around and motioned for him to follow you, slowly making your way into the kitchen, which thankfully was close by. Steve, the good man that he was, tried his hardest not to stare at you, but it was a herculean challenge. You were like the sweetest and most tempting fruit in the garden, “how’s the ankle?”

“It doesn’t hurt,” you promised as you grabbed a vase from the cabinet and quickly filled it with fresh water along with a bit of sugar and vinegar. Steve leaned against the counter as he watched you work, his toffee eyes practically glittering with affection for you. You made quick work of trimming the stems before setting them in the solution you’d made, “it feels weird to use that foot freely again and it still throws me off, so please excuse the fact that I’m hobbling around. I’ve just started PT so hopefully it’ll be better in a few weeks.”

“You’re perfect,” the words were out of his mouth before he could stop him and the sweet look you gave him made him not regret a thing. He laughed nervously, “it takes time but you’re already using it which is a good sign. And…if you ever need any help, I’d be more than happy to help.”

“I might just have to take you up on that offer,” you set the flowers down in the center of the kitchen counter, grinning when you saw how they brightened up the room. Steve softened when he saw the happy look on your face, “so you didn’t technically tell me what we’re doing so I hope I’m not over or under dressed?”

“You look beautiful,” he promised, catching your eyes with pastel pink cheeks but refusing to look away. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before biting your bottom lip, “really.”

“Steve-”

“First thing is dinner,” he grinned and your eyes lit up, “I hope you like Italian otherwise we’re going to have some awkward reservations.”

“I love Italian,” you nodded, trying to contain your eagerness. You really liked Steve and definitely didn’t want to scare him off just yet, “that’s perfect.”

“Yeah?” he perked up as you beamed at him, “let’s get going then!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Spending time with Steve was…ridiculously easy. There was no awkwardness between the two of you, no uncomfortable pauses or nervous energy. It felt like you’d known him for ages already, and you were able to tell him anything and everything. And he gave it right back to you. You liked listening to him talk about himself, the kids he basically adopted and still loves, his work, and anything in between. He listened intently to you talking about your work, about your childhood, and how you loved only oddly specific pizza toppings. And it never once felt like he was disingenuous or condescending at all; Steve Harrington genuinely loved spending time with you.

After dinner was finished, a bundle of sadness settled in your belly as you realized that he was probably going to take you home soon. You weren’t ready to end the evening with him; he could have stayed and never left as far as you were concerned. You wondered if he left the same, if he’d even want to see you again. Little did you know that Steve was already imagining a future filled with you. Steve was a smart man, but he was also an incredible romantic…something he hadn’t really realized until he met you.

“I hope I’m not, you know, reading the room wrong, but would you like to get dessert?” he sounded timid as the two of you walked out of the restaurant; you turned to him with a big smile and an eager nod.

“I was umm…kind of hoping for that,” you admitted sheepishly, feeling your heart jump as he took your hand in his, threading his fingers through yours as though he’d done it thousands of times before. You gently squeezed his hand and followed his lead, feeling both exuberant and protected, “I’m not really ready for this night to be over.”

“Me neither,” he had a really pretty smile. You suddenly had the desire to make sure he always had a smile on his face, “I��this feels so crazy to say, but I really like spending time with you.”

“Funny,” you nudged your arm slightly into his, “I was just thinking the same thing.”

“Yeah?” oh. You could definitely get used to that.

“Yeah,” before you could stop yourself, you leaned up and pressed a quick little kiss to his cheek. Steve turned bright red and flustered; you thought he was adorable.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You clearly have no taste,” you pretended to huff heavily as you licked at your ice cream cone, “chocolate chip cookie dough is a classic. Iconic basically, and you, Harrington, are missing out.”

He snorted in amusement as the two of you walked through the park, the setting sun coloring the sky in pretty shades of golds and oranges. One hand was holding yours and the other was holding his own ice cream, a mixture of chocolate and vanilla today.

“I’m telling you, I spent a whole summer working at Scoops Ahoy and it scarred me for life,” he playfully groaned, “really ruins a lot of ice cream when you have to serve it to screaming children everyday!”

“You did get something good out of it,” you reminded him, “your best friend!”

“That’s true,” his heart fluttered with the knowledge that you already remembered this little detail about his life, “don’t know what I’d do without Robin.”

“Maybe one day I can meet her,” you looked over and gave him a hopeful little smile, aware of the full meaning behind your statement. It held a promise of more - of a future together. You’d never been sure about a lot of things in life, but you were already sure about Steve Harrington, “if she’s anything like you, she must be great.”

“Flatterer,” he smiled nonetheless, busying him with his cone in order to keep from making a total fool out of himself, “lucky for you it works on me.”

“Lucky me,” you stopped in front of a bench overlooking the small lake, and tilted your head towards it in a silent question, both of you throwing away the cone wrappers. He nodded and the two of you sat down, leaving just enough of an acceptable space between your bodies, “you know, I never felt particularly lucky, but I’m starting to think I just might be.”

“That makes two of us,” he hesitated for a moment before putting his arm around your shoulders and scooting just a little closer. You stiffened for a moment, nervous at his affection for a fraction of a second before relaxing into his touch and putting your head on his shoulder.

It was easy to fall back into conversation with him, and the two of you talked until the sun had set and the sky was a pretty shade of blue and purple, a few stars visible. You were glad it was summer or you would have been freezing, but everything that evening felt perfect. You were half tempted to ask him to stay for the evening, but didn’t want him to get the wrong idea either. Of course you wanted to have sex with him, you were only human after all, but you didn’t want to rush anything either. Steve Harrington was a good one and you didn’t want to ruin this.

With a small sigh, you peeled yourself away from his side and sat up, angling your body towards his. He looked at you, an air of disappointment around him too. He reached over and gently tucked a few loose strands of hair behind your ear before brushing his knuckles over your cheek, “it’s getting late.”

“I know,” you tried to keep the pout off your face but were sure you were doing a horrible job of it, “I don’t want this evening to end.”

“Me neither,” he seemed bashful as he looked away for a moment before looking at you with expression on his face. He leaned ever so slightly and your breath hitched in your throat as you realized what was happening, “may I kiss you?”

“Yes,” his large, warm hand settled on the side of your face as he closed the remaining gap and gently pressed his lips to yours. As soon as he kissed you, you felt an electric shiver run down your spine and a delicious warmth bloom in your stomach and spread through your body. You’d kissed a fair number of people before, but he made all of them seem like they had no clue what they were doing. He melded perfectly into you, and it felt like the two of you had been doing this forever.

When he pulled back after he kissed you dizzy and breathless, he looked at you curiously. You kissed many frogs before but you were sure that Steve was your prince.

“That was-”

“Incredible,” you finished for him and he nodded happily. Both of you seemed to be on the same page as he leaned in and kissed you again, pulling you into his warm body as the kiss slowly became more passionate and intense. You hated to pull back but you knew that you couldn’t keep going or you wouldn’t be able to stop, “Steve.”

“You’re an angel, you know that?” he pressed his forehead against yours, and you could feel him smiling against your lips, “and as much as I wanted to keep going, I want to do this right. I don’t wanna half-ass anything with you.”

“Yeah?” you were looking up at him with the sweetest eyes and he couldn’t help but steal a few more kisses, “I really like you, Steve.”

“I really like you,” he had a breathtaking smile, “I hope this isn’t too forward but…when can I see you again?”

“How about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is perfect.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #joe keery #joe keery x you #joe keery x reader

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novelbear · 1 year

Note

hello !! first of all, I absolutely ADORE your prompts. i also have a suggestion if you haven't already done it. what about character a's first time getting drunk and character b has to take care of them?

"drunk in love" - some caring prompts

scenarios

B being unable to control some of their laughter as A acts in such a manner, saying the most random things left and right.

Trying to hug A tight and calm them down after they start to breakdown, not being used to feeling so...weird

Having all the home remedies, medicine, and water ready for when A wakes up in the morning with their first hangover following this.

B embarrassingly trying to coax A off of a table (or other random object) after they figured that would be their next best stage for their dancing

Carrying them everywhere because they just can’t walk on their own

dialogue

"I’m never ever again...” [laughs] “That’s what a lot of people say...”

“Yes, I know you love me, you told me about fifteen times in the last five minutes, hon’.”

“Look at me- no I’m over here, babe.”

“Did you drink the water I gave you...?”

“I guess we’re both staying home tomorrow, huh?”

#otp prompts #writing prompts #imagine your otp #otp writing #writeblr #prompt list #dialogue prompts #otp #comfort prompts #drunk prompts #request

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nburkhardt · 1 year

Text

Part one Part two

Whispered reassures and promises. Promises of lists and songs on post-it notes. Laughter and praise between it all, it can make someone’s head spin.

It’s definitely making Steve’s head spin.

A quick brush of lips against his temple, so quick he thinks he imagined it. A gentle squeeze of their clasped hands, then both are gone and he opens his eyes to find Eddie now standing smiling down at him with a hand open in front of him.

“Come on, Stevie, let’s continue this on a couch and get something to drink.” Eddie wiggles his hand impatiently, “the floor hurts, Sunshine.”

His brain freezes for a split second before the first smile, a near blinding one spreads on his face. He won’t question the new nickname, maybe someday but not today and maybe he’ll ask Eddie to call him that everyday. For now he watches as Eddie’s smile gets brighter and wiggles his hand again before clasping it with his.

An hour later and they’re sitting on his couch, Eddie’s on one side and he’s on the other; they’re facing each other with their legs a tangled mess. Eddie had insisted, saying it was to ground him. He’ll be honest, he doesn’t quite understand that but it does feel nice. The only other person who insists on physical contact is Robin, but she limits it to a hug or just high-fives. If it was up to Steve, they’d be hugging, holding hands or wrapping ankles together none stop.

Okay, so he might be a little touch-starved now that he’s thinking about it.

It seems though, Eddie doesn’t mind touch. He’s actually the one asking for it first, can’t figure out if it’s because of his breakdown earlier or because that’s just something Eddie does sometimes.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Breaks through his thoughts and he shakes his head to focus on the man across from him, Eddie’s rolling his water bottle between his hands. There’s a curious look on his face, “you’ve been quiet.”

He shrugs a little before leaning back further, “Just, thinking.”

Eddie hums with a nod, dropping his water bottle in his lap and bringing a knee up to rest his head on it, “What about? Pizza won’t be here for another thirty minutes”

He opens his mouth with a lie, a simple ‘nothing, don’t worry about it’ because it’s a lot, today has been a lot to handle. Voicing out loud that he might be touch-starved would be another heavy topic. Despite sharing his deepest secret, his biggest insecurity. Sharing another one? It would be too much for one day.

“Just, that you’re a great person” it’s not a lie, that’ll never be a lie. Eddie is a great person, one of the best that Steve knows. It’s just not what he was really thinking though, Eddie will figure it out when he gets the courage to speak about more insecurities later. “How, um, did you know what to do back there?”

Eddie looks confused for only a second before answering, “pulling you out of the breakdown? Well, I have anxiety attacks sometimes, my uncle still gets panic attacks from time to time. He taught me how to handle them, told me the rights and wrongs on what to do.”

Nodding, he then looks away to stare down at his lap, avoiding Eddie’s gaze. He feels like an open book right now, feels like Eddie is staring into his everything and he feels comfort in that really he does but he's also so terrified of that feeling.

It’s…nice, having someone like this. He knows that his friendship with Robin is similar to that but this? This is different and he doesn’t want it to be like his friendship with Robin.

The doorbell rings and before he can get up, Eddie’s already standing and shakes a finger in his direction, “nah-uh, I’m paying. You stay here, drink the water and relax, okay?”

“Okay”

He doesn’t bother watching Eddie walk to the door, instead he lowers himself on the couch and thinks.

Is this going to last? How true are Eddie’s words? Will he really stay by his side and will he really write positive post-it notes for him? Write a song for him?

He feels like he’s back in Eddie’s hospital room, with questions but his mouth refuses to open. He doesn’t know if he wants the answers, this time either.

For now, he’ll let those questions stay in his head while he enjoys Eddie’s company and some pizza. And hope that tomorrow is better, either with Eddie by his side or without.

He called out of work. He doesn’t do that, it’ll hurt losing that money but he can’t face Robin right now. Doesn’t necessarily want to face anyone right now actually, there’s a chance the kids or even Eddie’s band mates will show up. He can’t handle that, still feeling raw from Eddie even seeing him the way he did.

Currently he’s wrapped up in his blankets on his bed overthinking, again.

Yesterday replaying in his head, Eddie’s words acting as a melody from a song. Sometimes in order, sometimes just one sentence or even one word repeating over and over. If he wasn’t laying in bed, he’d be dizzy and distracted from it.

“one day you’ll believe me”

“I promise you”

“You are not an asshole”

“You’re a good person, Stevie”

“You have me”

He’s tired of tears, but it seems he has an unlimited amount in his eyes. He can’t help but think over all of those words, or just think of Eddie. If he thinks hard enough, he can feel the kiss on his forehead or how their legs were pressed together. It was so weirdly intimate, like he could float away and be present but also not. The idea of being able to not be here seems freeing and that's a scary thought.

All those moments helped him sleep for only a few hours, all the warmth faded before the sun came out and Steve was jolted awake by it. He’s been awake since, the words and memories aren’t enough for him to go back to sleep.

~~~~

Steve's head is all over the place much like my own. Sorry we didn't get more comfort, Steve has a lot of thoughts okay?? He’s an over-thinker. Don't worry more parts are coming :)

Also sorry it’s a lot shorter than the other two and if it’s too non-linear, it made sense in my head ending it where I did 😅

taglist: @zerokrox-blog @piningapple @i-wanna-combust @stevecarrington @henderdads @fiore-della-valle @eddiemunsonswife @mixsethaddams @momotonescreaming @ajamlessbaby @novelnovella @flustratedcas @thelastwalkingsoul

@hellfire1986baby @manda-panda-monium @xo-blairej @freyaforestafay @princessstevemunson @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @sapphirecobalt-1 @stevesworldxx @jonathanbyersbbg @fromapayphone @anzelsilver @adaed5 @koyislosinghismind

Part four

#steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington fic #stranger things #angst #steve harrington #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #desperate prayers of a cursed man fic #his thoughts really did get away from me #i meant to add in more eddie but steve is an OVERTHINKER #we'll get eddie being a clingy bastard next time and an overprotective one at that #nburkhardt writes

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hadesforpreswrites · 5 months

Text

dirty laundry, pt. 2

a/n: here's part 2! i had a lot of fun writing this one! i'm less practiced in writing steamy stuff than i am depressing stuff but i hope you enjoy.

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

genre: idiots-to-lovers

warnings: confession, fingering

word count: 4,119

summary: after a confession, things heat up

part one part three part four

“how can someone be so smart and so blind at the same time? i’m basically in love with you, dummy.”

and suddenly everything made sense to y/n. he was right; he always made time for her, even when he was on tour.

she sat staring at her ice cream as it was melting in the cup. she was trying her best to process the new information, information she had only ever hoped to hear.

noah, on the other hand, was staring at her. he couldn’t believe that he just said that, just like that, on a day like today.

“you can reject me and we’ll still be fine,” he finally broke the silence.

at this, she turned her eyes to him. he could almost see the question marks swirling in them. “why would i reject you?”

“you’ve been sitting in silence, staring at your ice cream, for the past five minutes, y/n. and i seriously mean it, we’ll be okay.”

“noah, i’m not going to reject you. i just…needed to process for a second because i’m basically in love with you. and i never in a million years thought you’d ever say that. i was content to just hope the feeling would go away on its own. also, you couldn’t have waited until i wasn’t a complete mess?”

“since fucking when?!” he all but shrieked. “i’ve been fighting the urge to tell you that i think about you 90% of the time ever since the day we met.”

“i’ve had a crush on you since the day we met…” she trailed off quietly. “i honestly thought you’d have caught on because of scarlett by now.”

“scarlett knew?!”

y/n looked at him with a dead stare, “we’re roommates, noah.”

“oh, yeah. okay that makes sense.”

a beat of silence.

“also, you aren’t a mess.”

“i’ve been crying for three days straight so my face is red and puffy and i need a shower.”

“not a mess,” he finally put his cup of half-melted ice cream in the cup holder and began to back out of the parking spot. he smiled when he saw her finally take her first bite.

“only 90%?” she asked with a small smirk.

“yeah, well. 5% is bad omens. and the other 5% is olive garden’s endless soups.”

“i’m honored. i thought the soup would be higher.”

“used to be. but then some girl had to waltz into my life.”

“i’m pretty sure i was dragged.”

“how much do i take up in that pretty little head of yours?”

“89%.”

“breakdown, please.”

“5% is ice cream. 5% is dedicated to school. and the last 1% goes to how fluffy ruffilo’s hair is.”

“cool cool cool. note to self: shave best friend’s head.”

“go near that man’s hair with anything remotely looking like clippers and i’ll never speak to you again,” she said, jokingly.

“ouch,” he feigned hurt by grabbing at his chest while sitting at a stoplight.

“can i…ask a favor?” she asked as the light turned green and they started moving.

“you can ask me anything, anytime.”

“can you stay tonight? i think scarlett had made plans and she won’t go if i’m alone. unless you have plans already, of course,” she said, almost too quickly for him to process the question.

“of course i’ll stay with you. i was kind of thinking about it anyway,” he answered. “let’s swing by my house first so i can grab some clothes. your favorite person is probably there by now too.”

“jolly?” her voice sounded hopeful.

“no, ruffilo. would you stop calling my bandmates your favorite person? i’m starting to get a complex.”

“i mean, if we’re completely honest with ourselves, my all time favorite person is andy.”

“why does he get number one?!”

“i’ve known him longest.”

“but you’re in love with me. so i should be number one.” he still couldn’t believe his luck.

“i don’t think that’s how that works,” she put her now empty cup in the free cupholder.

“it is 100% how that works,” he said, pulling into the driveway of his house.

he heard her unclick her seatbelt before he threw the car in park. when he turned to scold her, he found that she was already turned in her seat, looking at him. she was looking at him in a way he had never seen before. he slowly unclicked his own seatbelt and looked at her with a furrowed brow.

“i just…want to try something,” she said quietly, blush creeping up her neck.

“what’s that?”

as she leaned toward him, he felt himself leaning toward her, meeting her halfway. his eyes widened in shock as he felt her lips meet his before they fluttered shut and he cupped her cheek with a tattooed hand, deepening the kiss.

she pulled back slowly and placed her forehead to his. “you ever feel the need to try that again, you just do it. i’m game,” he said with a smile, causing her to laugh.

“let’s get your stuff,” she said in reply, starting to pull away from him. he stopped her by pulling her by the back of her neck back to him and kissing her again. she giggled into it and said against his lips, “noah.”

“that’s not gonna make me stop, doll,” he didn’t care how she said his name, just that she did.

“i don’t want to make out over the center console of your car,” she laughed again.

“well, fuck, get in the backseat then. it’s pretty spacious,” he said with a hint of seriousness.

she fully pulled back from him and playfully slapped his chest. “it’s not like you’ll never see me again. you’re staying the night.”

“oh yeah. what’re we waiting for, i have clothes to grab.” he finally turned off the car and jumped out.

she was shaking her head while laughing as she reached for the handle to the car door. she suddenly heard the door locks click. she looked up at noah who was standing at the front of the car, glaring at her before walking the rest of the way to her side. he unlocked the car and opened the door. “you’re no longer allowed to open doors.”

“but i’m perfectly capable?” she countered as she stepped out into the now brisk air. she shivered.

“you are. but i’m taking over that role now,” he said, throwing an arm over her shoulders and pulling her to him. he kissed the side of her head as they walked to the front door.

“what if you’re not there?” she asked as he unlocked and opened the door to the house.

“nonsense. why wouldn’t i be there?”

“tour?”

“isn’t your program online?”

“what’s your point?”

“you can just come on tour. problem solved.”

“yeah! you should totally come on tour!” they heard a swedish accent ring out at them.

“jolly!”

“y/n!”

he was standing in the living room with his arms open as she ran into them. he swung her around, causing her to laugh. noah looked on at the scene with a small, appreciative smile. after the hell she had been through and then the last few days, she still had the ability to laugh. he knew then that she would be okay.

“you two carry on, i’ll just go get my stuff.”

“you do that,” jolly said, jokingly dismissive, causing noah to roll his eyes as he took off up the stairs. “ruffilo! y/n’s here!”

the guitarist walked in from the kitchen with a drink in hand, with folio in tow. “there she is! we were starting to think noah locked you away.”

“locked myself away, really,” she said, sheepishly.

“don’t do that, we like having you around,” the drummer said, pulling her into a hug.

“so much so that you should totally come on tour with us!” jolly reiterated his statement from earlier.

“i can’t go on tour with you! who would look after scarlett?”

“scarlett’s a capable young woman,” jolly countered.

“to you she is, you don’t live with her.”

“fair. fine, she comes too.”

“it’ll be a family road trip with music,” ruffilo said with a laugh.

noah smiled to himself as he listened to the four of them have a back and forth while he packed his bag. he decided to pack enough clothes for a week, just in case she needed him that long. really, it was him that would probably need her. he was forever grateful that his bandmates and y/n were so close, it certainly made his life all the easier.

when he finished, he took the stairs two at a time down. “come one, doll. scarlett probably thinks i kidnapped you.”

“didn’t you though?” folio asked, smirk playing on his face.

“she came willingly.”

“he bribed me with ice cream.”

“that’ll work every time,” jolly laughed.

“speaking of ice cream,” noah had a sudden realization. “mine’s melting in the car.”

“it’ll do that,” ruffilo stated. he was the closest to y/n out of the other three members of bad omens. he knew something was off with her, he could see the tear stains on her face even in the dim light. but he didn’t say anything, just threw a look to noah when no one else was looking. noah threw one back in response as y/n stood up from the couch and hugged the three of them.

“seriously, consider it?” jolly asked of her about tour.

“i’ll consider it,” she promised as she walked toward noah who was holding out his hand for her.

no one batted an eye as she linked their fingers together and waved goodbye.

back in the car, she laughed as she looked at the melted puddle of ice cream in the cup. “you have milk soup.”

“yeah, well. a pretty girl said something about being in love with me and that took precedence.”

she coughed, choking on her laugh. he shook his head as he threw the cups away in the dumpster outside the house before taking his seat in the driver’s seat.

the drive to her house was relatively quiet, the radio playing quietly in the background. his left hand gripped the steering wheel as his right laid on her thigh. she was tracing the ink that littered his skin on his hand and arm.

there was an air of apprehension in the vehicle, not thick but there. he’d spent the night at her house many times but never under these circumstances and usually on the couch. would he default to the couch or would she invite him to sleep in her bed? he decided he didn’t care, as long as he could check on her whenever he needed.

when they pulled into the driveway of her house, they noticed that andy’s car was missing but scarlett’s was still there. it was still a couple hours before her plans so she was probably getting ready.

noah grabbed his bag and opened the passenger door, holding out his free hand to her as she stepped out of the car. they walked through the still unlocked front door and were met with the sound of music permeating the house, sounds that meant scarlett was indeed getting ready.

noah started toward the living room after they took their shoes off at the door with his bag but felt a tug on his arm causing him to look back at y/n. “where you going?” she asked.

“couch?”

“you can put your stuff in my room, it’s okay.”

he beamed at her as they walked down the hall. he entered her room as she stepped into scarlett’s to let her know the plan.

he set his bag on the bed and wandered around, looking for the plug for the lights. when he finally found it, he turned the blue lights on and felt a weight suddenly depart from him. it felt more normal now. he straightened the piles of books on the floor and put the clothes he found there in the hamper in her bathroom before settling on her bed and fumbling for the remote to the tv.

y/n peeked around the corner into scarlett’s bathroom, silently asking permission to enter. it was granted, it’s always granted.

“there’s light in your eyes again, my love,” the other woman turned and pulled her into a hug. “remind me to thank the boy. and the inventor of ice cream.”

y/n laughed, causing scarlett to smile brightly. her best friend was going to be okay.

“so,” y/n started as she absentmindedly started picking up various makeup that was scattered on the bathroom counter. “noah’s staying the night.”

“i figured.”

“and i might have kissed him.”

scarlett’s arm dropped from her eye. “YOU DIDN’T?!Y/N!”

“i did,” she hid behind her hands.

“and?”

“and he kissed back and before that he said he loved me and i confessed to him. it was very sweet.”

“FINALLY!”

the two women heard a knock on scarlett’s closed bedroom door. “yes?” she called.

“is everything okay in there? there’s a lot of yelling…” noah trailed off.

scarlett took three big steps to the door and pulled it open. “listen here, singer boy. just because i happen to enjoy your friendship does not mean i won’t end you so help me god.”

“help me out here?” he looked to y/n, who was sitting on the bed, smiling at scarlett’s antics.

“i told her.”

“oh, that makes more sense now. i got a nearly identical speech from the guys when i told them just now.”

“good,” scarlett said, heading back to the bathroom to finish applying her makeup.

“now both of you, out. this requires concentration,” she held up a false eyelash.

“love you,” y/n said as she walked out the door.

“love you more,” scarlett replied as the door shut.

“you two have the strangest relationship,” noah said with a laugh as they entered y/n’s room again.

“yeah, well,” y/n said as she rummaged through her dresser for clean clothes.

“hey, before you go in there,” noah started, realizing that she was about to take a shower. “where on earth is your remote?”

“oh! it’s in the pocket of the long pillow,” she walked to where she was laying when he first found her today and plucked the remote from the side pocket of the pillow and handed it to him.

“thank you, doll.”

she hummed as she shut the bathroom door. he heard the shower speaker turn on and music start to pour out of it as the water turned on. he smiled when he heard her singing along to “like a villain” and laughed when it was followed by a bts song which was followed by the doors. that was one of the things he loved about her, she didn’t care about genre when it came to music, she just liked what she liked.

after about 30 minutes, he heard the speaker turn off and the door open. he was met with steam rolling into the bedroom.

“christ, woman, did you commune with satan in there?”

“not this time. just needed to feel clean.”

“and do you?”

“mhmm,” she said as she flopped on the other side of the bed. “you turned my lights back on,” she observed.

“is that okay?”

she rolled over to look at him. the tear stains were gone, her eyes were brighter than earlier. “definitely.”

he let whatever he put on the tv play in the background as he slid down to lay down facing her. “do you feel better?” he asked, quietly as he combed through her damp hair with his fingers.

her eyes closed at the contact. “so much, thank you.”

“it’s all you, doll.”

“no, it’s not. it’s all of you guys.”

he smiled and pulled her to him. after another 30 minutes had passed there was a quiet knock at the door. he turned, just enough to see scarlett poke her head in. y/n lifted her head, eyes groggy from falling asleep, and placed her chin on his side as she too looked at her best friend.

“i’m heading out. i don’t know when i’ll be home tonight, if i’ll be home tonight,” she wiggled her eyebrows.

“get it, girl,” y/n said sleepily, causing the other two to laugh.

“take care of her, yeah?” scarlett said to noah.

“of course. have fun.”

“oh, i intend to,” she cackled as she closed the door.

“she really is her own character,” noah chuckled.

“she is. but she balances me out.”

“i can see that. go back to sleep, doll,” he kissed her forehead.

“no,” she said defiantly.

“no?” he cocked an eyebrow as she looked up at him.

“no,” she placed a hand on his cheek before placing her lips to his again.

this time was less tentative on both their parts as they moved in sync, deepening the kiss. she started to lean back, pulling him on top of her. he moved with her, letting her lead, knowing she’d stop them when things went too far for her.

he let one of his hands wander down her side, stopping at her hip. he felt her hook her leg to his waist and let his hand continue to the back of her thigh, holding her there. he groaned when she moved against him. he kissed down her jaw, down her neck, and lightly bit the hollow spot, causing her to gasp. her hands were in his hair as he sucked on the hollow of her neck where he had bitten. he ground his hips into hers, his covered hardness finding her clothed core. she moaned at the contact, spurring him on. he kissed back up her neck and found her lips again, their tongues fought for dominance, his ultimately winning as she moaned again as he ground his hips into hers again. he kissed down the other side of her jaw and to her neck, giving her some breathing time.

“noah,” she breathed out.

“do we need to stop?” he asked, breathing hard.

“no, not yet.”

he looked her in the eye, her pupils were blown and he could feel her breath on his face. “you’re not just saying that, are you?”

“no. i need…” she trailed off.

“what do you need, baby? you need only ask, i’ll give you anything you want.”

“i need you to touch me, please,” she whined.

“because you asked so nicely,” he sensed there was more to her request. “what else do you need?”

“no need, just want.”

“well, what do you want?”

“your shirt off.”

“done,” he sat up and pulled the garment over his head and threw it to the ground. his eyes fluttered shut when her hands started to trail down his torso. after a moment he grabbed both her wrists in his hand and held them above her head. a brief thought entered his head, “is this okay?”

she nodded.

“words, baby. words.”

“it’s okay,” she breathed out.

“good girl,” he purred as he leaned down to connect their lips again. his free hand traveled under her shirt. she moaned in his mouth when he started to massage her unobstructed breast. she whined when he rolled his hips into hers once again. she let out a breath as he moved his hand down her stomach toward the waistband of her shorts. he let his fingers slip just passed the elastic and stopped there. he looked at her, her eyes closed as she tried to control her breathing. “still okay?”

she nodded again.

“baby,” he warned.

“still okay,” she let out a shaky breath as she opened her eyes to look at him. he saw no hesitation, only a softness he had never seen before.

he nodded and, still looking in her eyes, allowed his hand to travel further into her shorts and under her underwear. tentatively, he ran a finger up her folds. she was so wet, his finger was instantly coated. he reveled in the fact that it was him that made her this wet. he slowly pushed his forefinger into her, watching for any change in her body language. after pumping his finger a few times, he asked, “think you can take another? use your words like the good girl you are.”

“yes, noah,” she said, looking him in the eye as he started to insert a second finger. her breath hitched at the stretch, her eyes screwed shut. when she breathed again it came out shakier than before.

“baby,” noah started.

“it’s okay. i’m okay,” he wasn’t sure if she was saying it to him or herself.

“baby, look at me,” her eyes slowly opened. “this does not have to continue right now.”

“no, it’s okay,” she smiled at him, her hand pulling free of his constraint and caressing his cheek. he leaned into her touch before he continued his ministrations inside her.

her hand made its way to his hair, she tugged ever so slightly every time she clenched around his fingers, causing him to moan. when her breath started coming out in short bursts, he let go of her other hand which quickly attached itself to his bicep, her fingernails digging into his inked skin. she let out a whine with each breath. he could tell she was close.

“it’s okay, baby. let go,” he whispered in her ear. and she did, the sound she made he wanted to hear for the rest of his life. he pumped his fingers in her as she rode out her first-ever orgasm. “look at you, my sweet girl, so beautiful,” he said as she started to come down.

he pulled his fingers out, not breaking eye contact as he brought them to his lips. his eyes shut as he relished the taste of her on his tongue. one day, maybe not so far out, he would be able to taste her from the source; he almost couldn’t wait.

“woah,” she breathed out, causing him to chuckle.

“woah indeed,” he said as he pressed his lips to hers in a short kiss before rolling over to the other side of the bed to catch his breath.

she turned on her side, facing him, and brushed the hair that had fallen on his forehead. he hummed as he felt her fingers on his skin.

as if he had forgotten something, he sat straight up. “i need to take a very quick, hopefully, shower.”

“but,” she started. “why?”

he looked at his lap and back at her with a cocked eyebrow. she followed his eyeline and blushed. “oh. i mean, i could…” she trailed off.

“as much as i have dreamed to feel your hands or mouth on me, and believe me i dreamed, i think it’s best to do this one step at a time.”

“oh,” was all she said as she looked away.

“doll, look at me,” he pleaded, she did. “if you still want to tomorrow, i’m all yours. hell, i’m all yours anyway.”

“promise?”

“promise. on olive garden’s never-ending soup, i promise,” he said with a faux seriousness causing her to giggle. “now, you watch whatever the hell is on the tv and try to go to sleep. i’ll be right back.”

“‘kay,” she said as she turned to the tv.

he made the short distance to the bathroom and shut the door. leaning his back against it, he smiled, giddy. then he looked down and sighed. “i must be an idiot,” he said to himself as he turned on the shower. ”girl of my dreams practically begging to touch me and i turn her down,” he said as he stripped and stepped into the shower.

he hissed as he wrapped his hand around his aching member. at least he didn’t have to conjure up a fantasy this time; he just thought of a few minutes ago. her head tilted back, mouth open, fingers digging into his skin. he pumped himself until he came and watched the result wash down the drain before washing himself, using her products.

when he emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel because he forgot his shorts, he saw her curled up on top of the blanket fast asleep. he smiled to himself as he rummaged through his bag in search of shorts.

once dressed, he climbed into what he is now deeming his spot and pulled the blanket out from under her and placed it over the two of them. he wrapped his arm around her and she moved so her head was on his shoulder and her leg was thrown over his.

he went to sleep with a smile on his face that night.

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fan #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic

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redcoralpot · 1 year

Note

Hii, if you don’t mind, could you do a smut Drabble of Peter Parker(any) x Top!FTM reader?

The readers been super dysphoric lately so Peter(being the great boyfriend that he is) buys him a strap-on with a realistic, skin textured dildo, one that also stimulates the readers t-dick. He tells the reader to put it on and Rides y/n. y/n thanks Peter in between moans for the gift and kiss while y/n blows peters back out till they both orgasm and he feels less dysphoric in the end?

I implemented some safety educational things in here, I hope you don’t mind! <33

Warnings: NSFW (18+), dysphoric breakdown at the beginning.

Word Count: 2.1K

Peter Parker (3) X FTM Reader - Crack Me Down

“Babe,” a voice shouted from the end of the hallway, footsteps following.

You had said you would be ready in five, but that was fifteen minutes ago. Your reflection in the mirror aggravated you, making the tight feeling around your heart squeeze harder, and you wanted to rip your hair out. The confidence you had in your masculinity had been stomped out repeatedly this past week— if you were such a man, why could none of them see it? What was so wrong with you, your body, that never made you manly in everyone you ever interacted with’s eyes?

Well, maybe everyone was an overstatement. Peter saw you as the man you are, he’d proven, but during times like these, you couldn’t help but doubt it a little. When it sounded like the whole world was out to grasp you as a woman, why would he ever even go against that? The thought made your ability to breathe harder, tears threatening to spill even when you heard the bathroom door creak open.

A gentle hand rubbed your shoulder, “Hey, uh, what’s wrong?”

You clutched the edge of the sink. Everything was wrong, everything, everything, everything, and yet you couldn’t verbalize it. The edges of your vision only got more blurry as your attention was pinpointed on each and every body part that simply was wrong.

The mirror wasn’t in front of you anymore, and you were strategically placed in the bathtub, with your back being the only thing the mirror saw. Peter was beside you on the edge, playing with his hands and staring. You sniffled.

“Sorry you had to deal with that.”

“No, no— it’s okay, I think it’s good that you got that out.”

“I guess.”

He shrugged, awkwardly, “I’m right, it’s been a really tough week. Do you wanna, I dunno, stay home today?”

“That’d be nice.”

“I think we might have some of your favorite ice cream left in the fridge, but we should maybe talk first.”

You looked down, “Yeah.”

It had been a month since your breakdown, and while it had faded from your immediate thoughts, the dysphoria never got much better. You could tell that Peter was trying his best to help, always going out of his way to introduce you as his boyfriend to anyone you meet, but sometimes that didn’t stop the misgendering. Peter had also been disappearing a lot more often lately, or retreating to the bathroom with his computer late at night when he thought you were asleep. It worried you, but you knew with his responsibilities as Spider-Man that you should just turn a blind eye.

Now, it was the weekend, and the late nights had finally caught up to him. You had to be extra careful not to wake him as you slipped out of bed, eyeing his body when you grabbed your clothes and shuffled out of the room. The last sight you caught before finally closing the bedroom door was that of stuck up strands of fluffy brown hair peeking from underneath the blanket. Yeah, Peter was still definitely knocked out cold.

With your clothes now on, you tiptoed downstairs and immediately slid to the kitchen. You had breakfast already in the fridge, and you only needed to heat it up in the microwave. Now, you leaned against the counter and watched it rotate in the machine, relishing in the quiet environment. Alas, God was out to spite you that day, and a loud knock interrupted the peace you had.

Grumbling, you abandoned your breakfast and opened the door. The perpetrator was already pulling out of the driveway, and you looked down at your feet, where two packages lay. Weird, you couldn’t recall you or Peter ordering anything. Lifting the boxes inside, you turned to see the man staring.

“Good morning, handsome, did the mailman wake you up?” You smiled, but Peter wasn’t looking at you.

He was looking at the packages in your hands.

“Oh, these were dropped off by our door. They’re addressed to you, but I can’t remember if you mentioned anything was coming.”

All at once, his face burst into the worst blush you had ever seen on him, and he cracked an awkward laugh, “Um, yeah, that was a surprise. Or was supposed to be one.”

“What is it?”

“We should go back to bed for this, it’s kinda private.”

His face was still scarlet as he slipped back into the bedroom, and you looked back down at the packages. Peter’s reaction only made you more curious, so you ran after him. His hands were fidgeting as he sat on the bed when you turned into the doorway, and his back was slightly slouched.

His eyes flicked away from you and he turned his back, “Open the smallest one first.”

“Okay.”

Slicing it open with a box cutter, you lifted the flaps to reveal another, smaller box and a dark cloth material wrapped in plastic. Observing the smaller box closer, you could see that the label read “Stand-To-Pee Silicone Packer”. Your eyes widened, a warm feeling bursting through your heart.

“I thought it might help after our talk last month,” Peter’s voice interrupted your speechless joy.

“You thought right!”

As you giddily grabbed his face to give him a kiss, he added, “I ordered the matching underwear for it too, is it in there?”

“Oh, yeah, it is,” You pulled out the next item and cut off the wrapping, revealing tight, black, boxer-style underwear that had a hole in the front.

“It—well, according to my research, it should hold the packer in place and allow you to pee at the same time.”

“How do you clean it?”

He shrugged, “Water and soap works, but boiling it is apparently the most effective way since it’s silicone. If you’re not sure, it should come with cleaning instructions. We can look at that together if you want?”

“Yeah, sure, do you just dry it off with a towel?”

“Air drying preserves the color and from what I’ve heard from trans men that’ve been using them for a while, you should dust it with cornstarch too.”

“Why?”

“Prevents it from becoming sticky.”

“Huh, interesting.”

With that, you reached for the second, larger package. Peter tensed up beside you, and you saw the tips of his ears heat up again from the corner of your eye.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just—,” he hesitates, “don’t judge me.”

You gave him a questioning look; why would you ever think badly of him simply because of a package? The inquiry just made you more curious, and you practically ripped the poor box open. Inside was a box holding a realistic silicone dildo and a soft, underwear-style harness.

In other words, a strap on. As reported by some writing on the side of the box, it also had an additional vibrating part that would stimulate the clit of the user.

You looked up at your boyfriend in awe, “Babe.”

“Yeah?”

“This is awesome, genuinely,” He avoided your gaze.

“Really?”

“Yeah! In fact, do you want to try it out right now?”

“Woah, woah, not so fast. Really, I’d really love to but I also did safety research.”

“Is this what you’ve been up to at night?”

“…Yes. But as I was saying, it’s good to just wear it around the house before we actually use it.”

“Okay, I can understand that.”

“Wait, you weren’t asleep when I was doing research?”

The wait was hard for you, how could it not be? You were tempted to try it out as soon as Peter walked out, but he didn’t give you the chance. He kept you on the bed and told you absolutely everything he had learned. He had even been kind enough to give you his notes on the subject, some of which you had been skimming through for the past week.

Lately, however, your boyfriend seemed to be fidgety. Now, being fidgety was typical of him, but it was over the top. You couldn’t help but notice it and today, you wanted to talk about it with him.

You waited until you were both in the bedroom before dropping the big question, “What’s been up with you?”

“What?”

“I can tell something’s up.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” He sounded unsure of himself, and you gave him an unbelieving stare.

“Sure, spill it.”

He must have realized that there was no way out of the conversation, and surrendered, “Okay, I was being honest when I said nothing was wrong specifically. Something’s just been on my mind.”

“And?”

“Fuck, I don’t know how to say it.”

“Is it negative or positive?”

“Positive,”

“Uhuh?” You got closer, rubbing your thumb under his jaw.

He cracked.

“I really, really wanna ride you,”

You froze in shock, and he took that opportunity to hide his head in your neck, “Please, put it on, I’ll do all the work if you want?”

The frozen moment melted as quickly as it had come, with you starting to sink into your role. You slid your hand up to the back of his hair, pulling his face out of its spot.

“Wait on the bed and take your pants off,” you ordered.

Peter took a sharp breath before you let go and sauntered to the bathroom. No, it didn’t take you long to set yourself up, not with the thought of Peter Parker, the city’s most rebellious vigilante, sitting half-naked and obedient on your bed stuck in your mind. You were greeted with such a sight when you returned, except a million times better.

Your boyfriend was there on the sheets, his ears cherry red and his fingers twitching. His eyes lit up as you stepped in, and oh my, it was definitely a vision to witness. Anticipation was eating at you, so you eagerly sat at the head of the bed, popping the cap of a lube bottle open and squirting a healthy portion into your hand.

“Do you want me to prepare you?”

His voice cracked, “Yeah,”

He climbed over you, balancing his weight on his knees and his hands on your shoulders. Peter shivered when he felt a cool finger circle his hole, before it pushed in. He sighed at the familiar feeling, rocking back on your hand as an open invitation to add more.

“Color?”

“Green, really green.”

“Good boy.”

With that comment, you could feel him gasp and clench down. Slowly, you took the opportunity to add in more fingers, pumping them in and out. It wasn’t long before you slid them out and silenced Peter’s whine with a nip to the neck.

He wasted no time after this, positioning his strong thighs in order to sink down on your strap. You flicked a button on a remote in your shirt pocket, and the strap, along with the additional part, started to vibrate. Peter was caught by surprise, throwing his head back and slapping a hand over his mouth to suppress a moan, while you bit your lip and sat your hands on his waist.

“F-fuck,” he panted, legs shaking.

“Go ahead, sweetheart, you wanted to ride me.”

He groaned, fucking himself on your dick. His head fell on your shoulder as he did so, tears pricking at his eyes, “Did you— d-did you like your gifts?”

You sounded breathless in his ear, heat pooling in your stomach, “Shit, of course I did.”

“Really?”

“Uhuh,” you moaned, “let me show you how— unh— thankful I am.”

Your hands gripped his waist harder, taking the control from Peter. With as much bravo you could muster, you thrusted up into him, and he sobbed. You bounced him on your cock with him drooling over your neck.

“Thank you, fuck, thank you so much,”

“Can I cum? I’m so close, please, please, please—“ he begged, his fingers digging bruises into your shoulder.

You nodded, and he only became more desperate, “Oh god, oh shit,”

You didn’t even have to control him anymore, he thrust himself mindlessly again and again as he chased his high, and you were getting just as close to yours. His body trembled before he whined your name, slowing his hips and looking down. You didn’t have to in order to know what happened, leaving sloppy kisses along his arm as you came too, thighs shaking.

Fingers numb, you reached to the remote and flicked it off. Peter sighed, lifting up his head to give you a long, soft kiss.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever,” you mumbled against his lips, grinning.

#peter parker #spiderman #tasm peter parker #male y/n #trans male reader #peter parker x reader #x male reader #dom male reader #male reader #peter 3 #tasm!peter x reader #tasm fic #x reader #x y/n #trans ftm #transgender

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thoraeth · 26 days

Text

A/N: 850 words, gn!reader. You're the personal assistant of the weirdest punk band in the Grand Line and today you're having a breakdown. Unfortunately, Buggy has no intentions of leaving you alone.

[One Piece punk band AU/ modern AU]

Cut out for the job

The door slams closed. You kick your sneakers away, enjoying the silence of your hotel room.

You haven't been able to catch your breath all day: Mr. Trafalgar called at 6 am because Ace was held at the police station; third time this month. Then it was Barto's turn. He needed your opinion on a nice gift for his nana, but kept arguing that your ideas were stupid. Franky gave you a migraine, shouting left and right during the band's weekly meeting and Buggy…oh, Buggy. He was insufferable these days: snappy, needy, tense, constantly asking you to fetch him stuff, to take him places.

You’re starting to feel like you’re never enough, drowning in this chaotic routine.

You can almost hear your mother's voice in your head: “Are you really throwing your life away to follow a band of idiots?!” Well, in your defense, being a band’s personal assistant was supposed to be fun. But now? Here you are, tired, sad and underpaid, living in yet another horrible hotel room. Maybe you're not cut out for this job.

Your phone glows up, a text from Buggy. “It's 11 pm for fuck's sake!” you shout, throwing the buzzing device on the sofa.

Buggy has been doing it for weeks: every night he sends you tons of messages for the most trivial stuff. He’s lost his mascara, bought ten pairs of shoes, whines about his paycheck. A bratty, pushy attitude he’s never had before.

In fact, the two of you used to have the most interesting conversations and a special chemistry that made you feel some type of way more than once. Like that night, backstage. The glances, the gentle touching while you helped him get dressed…you can still feel the goosebumps on your skin.

You pick up your phone, puffing at the crowd of notifications.

[Hey, you still up? Listen, face paint is running out, I’m thinking cherry 3.2 this time but I’m not sure if 1 or 2 cans.

Heyyyy are you ignoring me?? 👺😭 You sleeping already?]

[Oi Bug, can we discuss this tomorrow? It's way past my working hours.]

[...ok.]

[Today's been rough, I really need to unwind 🥲]

[ Wanna hang out? A little fun will make you feel better.]

[ Thanks but I’m done with work, see you tomorrow!]

[seen 00:15 AM]

[Buggy? You ok?]

[seen 00:50 AM]

“Shit. He's upset now.” You whisper, your eyes and mouth wide open “What if he gets me fired?”

You feel low-key furious: you shouldn't be punished for setting boundaries. If he’s playing the cocky boss during the day, you can play that game too and clock out at night. Screw him.

The sudden sound of the doorbell makes you jump out of your skin. “Hey it's me.” A familiar voice comes from outside the door, muffled.

Stomping to the peephole, you see Buggy. He’s nervously thinkering with his blue hair, pacing back and forth in the duck hoodie you got him for his birthday.

“Are you serious?” You ask, opening up.

“I know, I’m sorry. Just five minutes and I'll be gone.”

Buggy's not wearing his piercings and face paint; he looks serious, a bit scared. His ice blue eyes stare at you in silence and all your anger seems to melt away as he sits on the sofa.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Am I fired…?”

“What? No!” He shrieks, outraged. “Just sit, please.”

The second you're next to him, Buggy focuses on his boots, hands twitching on his knees.

“I-I know I've been a bit of an asshole lately.” He stutters. “I drove you crazy asking tons of stuff and…”

“You’re being a pain in the ass. Yes.”

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to spend more time with you but I messed up.” Buggy side-eyes you, his face red and flustered.

“I think I like you. A lot.”

Those words make your heart race so fast you can barely breathe.

He continues: “I tried to write to you, but every time… I couldn't say it the way I wanted.”

“Is that why you kept texting me for hours every night?!” you snap, breaking your silence.

Buggy jumps back in his seat “I didn't realize I was bothering you! I've always enjoyed our silly chats. But I'll stop, I got it now. We're just colleagues.”

You burst out laughing. Buggy leans towards you, shouting things you can't hear over the joy exploding in your chest.

He's about to get up, distraught, when you reach for his neck and pull him towards you, pressing your lips on his. Still a bit surprised, Buggy melts into your kiss, holding you so tight it almost hurts.

“For a second I thought I didn't want this job anymore.” You chuckle in between kisses.

“I’ll ask Trafalgar to give you a raise, then.”

“He's gonna fire us both when he knows about this.”

You dive your back into the sofa, pressed under Buggy’s weight. As he kisses and laughs into your neck, you remember why you decided to follow this band of idiots in the first place: there’s no other place in the world where you’ve felt more alive.

#nevermind the blorbos #one piece fanfiction #band au #buggy the clown #buggy fic #buggy fanfiction #buggy x you #buggy x reader #one piece buggy #barto club #bartolomeo one piece #ace one piece #trafalgar law #franky one piece

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sturniozo · 7 days

Text

Hello! I’m sorry I’ve been off and on for a while but I’ve had a lot happen lol. I’ve already said how I’ve been trying to move out of my grandparents house since they disowned me when I had a breakdown dropped out of college a couple months ago. Well so far no job has called back and I’m still stuck living here while working my part time waitress job with my weird manager.

But that’s not why I’m posting this. I tend to hyper fixate on things, and for about five months it was the Sturniolo Triplets. Before them it was My Hero Academia, before that Bones, and so on and so forth. I would like to point out that I often do return to my hyper fixations. But as of now, I sadly am not going to be writing or posting on this page for a while as I have lost this hyper fixation.

I’m probably not going to be on this account very much but I do check it like twice a week because I do have mutuals that text me sometimes and I like to talk to them. But other than that I will be on my regular account, which I will not disclose as I am weird and I’ve noticed a lot of my mutuals also follow that account since I was a lurker for a while before making this account.

But I love you all and hope to come back to this soon, I just sadly have not been very interested or active in the fandom lately. (and that is not me saying I’m no longer in the fandom. I love the triplets and I always will, watching their videos was a huge comfort to me when I was having my breakdown and needed someone there for me.)

~Sturniozo

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut

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