#'yes i did see him last night he made mongolian beef and---' i say as accountant heats up his mongolian beef for lunch

[fazcinatingblog]

me on an annual leave day: lodges one ASIC form and sends client the updated ASIC details

me on a normal work day:

[arazialotis]

Long Distance

Pairing: Dean × Reader

Word Count: Around 1700

Summary: Dean and Y/N have been separated during the holidays due to a string of hunts but Dean has a thought to make the distance seem not so far apart.

Warnings: Language, General SPN spooky stuff

This is purely just for writing and wasting my time as hobby. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

-----

Nights came early this time of year, each day growing darker a little earlier. It was hard to fight off the fatigue that crept in every passing moment. Even harder so with Dean out of town on another string of hunts. You sat in the picture window curled up in a fuzzy blanket with a warm cup of tea and a new book. Though you had a corner lamp turned on, the Christmas lights outside bounced off the white snow, illuminating the world and keeping the dark at bay. 

Your phone had occasionally been buzzing as Dean updated you on his progress in a new town. You did what you could to not worry, to have faith, but each day he was gone you needed distractions to keep your mind off it. And of course, communication. The longer he went without an update, the more your stomach turned. 

Though you were entranced with the novel, methodically flipping pages and on the edge of your seat, as soon as the phone sounded, you threw the book down only focusing on him. 

You answered with a pant of excitement. “Hey babe.” 

Dean’s smile practically shined through the receiver. “Evenin’ Y/N. Man it's good to hear your voice.” 

“Yours too.” You echoed setting your tea down on the ledge as you started pacing the floor. “How’s the first day been?”

“Ah, you know, just getting settled and the feel for things. Wish I had your mind here to sort things out but this has been a long stretch, it’s starting to drag. It was good for you to stay home.” He paused waiting for a reply. “This’ll be the last one, promise.” 

“Don’t say that.” You chided knowing fully well he easily broke these promises. “You are doing good work. If you need to keep going, that’s alright. Just promise me you’ll come home eventually.” “You know there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“And besides.” You sighed. “I’m still here virtually, put me together the case details tonight and I’ll scour over them.”

Dean’s blush heated up the air around you as he shamefully admitted. “I already sent them to Sam.” 

“Ugh! What? God Da…” Dean’s chuckle cut you off. You rubbed your brow reminding yourself it wasn’t a competition. “I want to help too.” You whined. 

“Okay, okay.” His voice faded. “I’m sending them now.” 

You looked at your phone waiting for the email to come through. A few moments passed and it eventually did. He had sent over a few news articles, pdfs, and a word doc of his own notes. 

“Hmmm… it’s definitely a werewolf.” You teased. “Shut up.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid enough to get stumped by an oversized rabid poodle.” 

“I’ll shoot you some real ideas by tomorrow at the latest.”

 “Don’t feel rushed, I got some pretty good leads to follow up on tomorrow.” He assured. “Alright, enough work talk. What about you? How was Thanksgiving?” 

“I mean, it wasn’t the same without you and everyone else. But uh, I still tried to make the most of it. Brussels, beans, wild rice, potatoes…” You listed. “Mashed?” Dean interrupted. 

“Pfft. Of course. Cranberries. Oh, I did a cornish hen cause like, what the fuck am I going to do with a whole turkey? I already have enough leftovers to last me ‘til Christmas. Tell me you had something more than deli meat turkey.”

“Don’t worry about me babe.” He lightly chuckled. “Denny’s got me covered.” 

“Dean.” You scolded.

“Pie? Please tell me you had pie.” He begged. 

“No way I’m having pie without you.”  

“But.. But… Thanksgiving.” Dean pouted. 

You giggled at his adorable antics. “There’s one waiting in the freezer for when you get back.” “Yes! Cherry?” He pleaded. 

“Of course…” You giggled together until a knock sounded at the door. “Hey, hold on a sec.” 

“What is it?” Dean’s voice grew concerned. He heard the door open, a soft thank you, and the door closing before a bit of rustling. “Oh, nothing.” You fiddled with the box and the phone. “Just looks like a package for you.” Dean licked his lips with anticipation. “Why don’t you go ahead and open it for me?” You wrinkled your nose, unsure if you wanted to. “Really?” 

“I’m sure.” 

You grabbed a kitchen knife to hack away at the tape. Dean sat down on the motel bed anxiously waiting for you to find what was inside. 

“It’s um… it’s.” You pulled it out further inspecting it. “It’s a lamp?” 

Dean grinned ear to ear waiting for you to figure it out. “A long distance lamp? What?” “I found it online. You have one and I have one.” He explained. “I felt bad the last hunt with the bad reception. My lamp will light up when you touch it and vice versa.” 

“What?” You squealed. 

“Yeah. It’s an early Christmas gift.” Your heart melted.  “Go plug it in.” He ordered before you could respond. 

“Dean…” His thoughtfulness nearly brought you to tears. “Go!” He repeated before you got too sappy. 

After a few minutes of him guiding you through the set up, you were ready to test it out. “Okay, ready?” He asked, his hand hovering over the lamp on his end. 

“Yes.” You sat on the floor staring at the dark lamp. “Nothings happening.” You sighed. “Oh, wait!” It was dim at first but slowly turned into a green glow reminding you of his eyes. “Oh my gosh.”

“Your turn.” You pressed the top of yours sending him a warm purple glow. You could hear his smile over the phone. 

“See, now we can talk to each other even without the phones.” 

“Dean. This is… it’s… thank you.” Was all you could muster to say. “I’ll keep it by my bed so I can say good night and good morning.” “Me too sweetheart.” Dean agreed. “And in case anything happens to my phone or I get stuck in another dead area, you’ll know not to worry.”

The two of you spent another good hour talking; tentatively setting up holiday plans, explaining the unexpected twist in your book, and thrilling him with all the juicy details of exactly what you were going to do to him when he finally did make it home. You read a few more pages before finally calling it a night. Tucked into a bundle of blankets, you reached to your nightstand sending him a final thought of the night. A few moments later came the dim green glow. Though it was just a light, it made you feel as though he was there, his arms wrapped around you making your heart warm. 

When Dean awoke the next morning, the lamp next to him was already glowing purple. He smiled, typical that you would be the first to rise. After a yawn and deep stretch, he sent the thought back to you before going to freshen up and shower. The hot water and steam soothed his sore muscles and the tension he held in his shoulders if only for a brief minute. Towel wrapped around his waist and clean shaven, he came back out to get dressed in a suit for the day only to find the light had not faded. With another chuckle he assumed you must have been on the same schedule and sent another touch back before heading out for the day. 

From the morning, he was in a sprint; talking with the local police department, interviewing witnesses, consoling family members. Dutifully, he kept you updated on his progress hoping to hear back from you soon on any thoughts yet you were quiet. He wondered if he had mixed up your work schedule again. Having gone nonstop throughout the day, he opted for an early dinner back at the hotel room. 

Entering back to the room with his Chinese takeout, he immediately noticed the lamp was still on. He set down his food on the table and pulled out his phone. 

‘The lamp doesn’t need to fully replace the phones.’ He texted you, adding a little laughing emoji hoping you wouldn’t be offended by him calling out your silence today. 

He popped open his laptop and dug into the Mongolian beef hoping to review any ideas you had come up with. But you hadn’t emailed him like you said. It was still early enough in the day, and especially if you had worked, maybe hadn’t had time to get around to it. He pulled up Sam’s email instead, reviewing notes and potential leads. 

An hour had passed and the light still glowed purple. Thinking it must be broken, Dean meandered over to the plug resetting it. The only other explanation would be your hand on top of it consistently which didn’t make any sense. The lamp powered back up and momentarily was dark before the purple hue came through again. 

“This is weird.” Dean muttered to himself. 

He walked back over to the table and grabbed his phone and dialed your number. After two rings, it answered. 

Dean chuckled, thankful to finally have gotten you. “Either these things are malfunctioning or you must really miss me.” He heard a deep breath from the other side of the line. 

“Y/N?” His voice dropped. “Sweetheart, are you there?” A sinister voice crackled on the other end. “It’s been a long time Dean.” 

Dean’s heart dropped to his stomach. Panic and anger rose to his chest. It was a voice he could never forget. “Alastair.” 

“Now I was hoping to find you home when I stopped by but this pretty little lady said you were out on business.” Alastair's voice delightfully slithered. 

His jaw clenched. “If you’ve touched a single hair on her head, I swear to God…” Dean spat. 

Amusement rose into laughter. “What makes you assume I could harm such a delicate creature. Her neck as easy to snap as a sparrow's."

“You better pray that's not what I find when I get back.” Dean threatened already furiously packing his bag. 

“Its not her I want, it’s you.” Alastair clarified. “But I guess that all depends on how long you take getting back home Dean. I might become bored.” 

-----

TAGS:

Forevers: @mogaruke @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @jotink78@blushingdean @sup3r-pott3r-lock3d @dancingalone21@carryonmyswansong @atc74 @superapplepie @cassieraider@adaliamalfoy @iwriteaboutdean @spnbaby-67@monkeymcpoopoo @adoptdontshoppets @maddiepants@onceuponathreetwoone @thisismysecrethappyplace

Dean x Reader: @akshi8278 @boxywrites @its-not-a-tulpa @tacklesackles @aubreystilinski @iamabeautifulperson18@jerkbitchidjitassbutt @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @ria132love​

[peterthepark]

crush culture - [three]

come on, take my hand

pairing: steve harrington x reader (university & modern au)

summary: ice skating and late night endeavors always lead to something good. especially when steve likes holding your hand.

warnings: fluff, uses of social media, strong language, cuteness overload

A/N: chapter was inspired by dumb stuff by LANY! check them out! such a good band <3

series masterlist

You chuckle brightly as your phone lights up for the third time in a row, buzzing softly with a notification from Steve. Shoving a spoonful of Chinese take-out into your mouth, you type back, blissfully unaware of the mischievous looks that your roommates give you.

He’s been texting you for weeks - whether it be to check in on you, or ask about your day, or to share new music with you. Steve truly meant it when he had said that he enjoyed your company. You didn’t mind the sudden companionship between the two of you, becoming closer to Steve couldn’t make you any happier. But you did wonder if he felt the same way, based on his flirtatious innuendos and his cheeky comments.

What if you were simply trying to see what you wanted to: that he liked you back?

“When we said text Steve, we didn’t mean text Steve.” Kate smirks, twisting her fork into the chow-mein. “You guys have been at it nonstop, huh?”

You shrug, locking your phone. “He’s just being friendly.” Robin huffs loudly, groaning as she leans back against the chair. “I don’t wanna jump to conclusions, Ro. And I really don’t wanna rush into things, either. We don’t need another Jake situation.”

“God, I forget about that asshole.” She laughs bitterly, fists clenching at the mention of his name. “Piece of shit.”

Kate continues making conversation, talking amongst herself with Robin as you return to the messages on your phone.

what are u doing todayyy?

nothing rlly, gonna relax my ass off since it’s already break 🎄

You bite down on your thumb, before continuing to type away.

what about you?

The grey ellipse appears on the screen, bouncing as Steve begins to reply - only for it to disappear shortly thereafter, where you found yourself left on read. You frowned, hoping that you hadn’t lost his interest. Giving him a couple of minutes, you slip your phone away, dragging your feet to the front door to grab the mail as you thought of worst case scenarios.

You pull open the mailbox, sticking your hand inside to grab the pile of white envelopes and coupons from the local market. Shifting through the papers, you take notice of a few important letters, eyebrows raised when you see one sent from London. A breeze brushes past your calves, and you turn in surprise to the sound of a small, chiming bell. Pedaling in circles around you, Steve plants his foot on the concrete, pulling the red bike to a stop.

“Hey!” You laugh heartily, putting the stack of mail under your arm.

Steve grabs the drink carrier in the basket of his bike, handing you a hot cup of coffee with a shy grin. He sports a grey beanie, and little wings of his hair pop out from beneath the fabric.

Adorable.

“I just wanted to repay you for that last time.” He remarks, “If I remembered correctly, it’s your favorite.”

“Thank you, Steve.” Your fingers brush against his as you generously accept the cup, ignoring the nervous tremble in your voice. “How’s your morning so far?”

“It’s alright. Better now. Thanks to you.” His head charmingly bobs to the side. Dipping your heads, you both blush with bashful smiles. “But I, uh, just finished my newspaper route around the neighborhood. And I’m headin’ back to my place.”

“Yeah? Maybe we could hang out today or something?” You shrug in suggestion, unsure of your words. “If you’re not busy.”

Steve smiles faintly before he nods his head in agreement. He tries to seem as calm as possible towards your question, but internally, he was truly exploding with butterflies. Has a girl ever made him feel this way after such a long time? It had been years since he genuinely felt the fantastical flutter in his stomach. And most importantly, it had been years since he oh-so-badly wanted to purse a girl as much as he wanted to pursue you. The littlest things that you’d do would send him into a captivated trance - like the way you’d let the sleeves of your sweater hang over your palms, cupping themselves around the heat of your coffee.

He was crushing on you.

A sliver of him didn’t sit well with the feeling. He’s always had a bit of trust issues with girls, especially after his past three ex-girlfriends. He forgot how crushes made him feel starry-eyed and lively, like he was on top of the whole world.

But who’s to say he wasn’t complaining about said crush? He likes you. End of story. Did he want to be something more? Maybe. If you’d let him.

More like if he’d let himself.

“Do you wanna come inside for a little?” You point at your apartment, swaying gently.

He hums undecidedly, as if he were making a tough decision. “Is it okay with your roommates?”

Robin and Kate lose their minds as soon as Steve walks through the door. Of course, they try to seem as subtle as possible with their excitement - not wanting to reveal the fact that you had feelings for Steve - but clearly, they were doing a terrible job in doing so. Kate would roughly nudge you in his direction, while Robin would wiggle her eyebrows at him. When Steve would have his back turned to them, they’d pretend to make-out in a comically exaggerated way. Ever the support system.

You offer him a combination of breakfast-lunch-and-dinner, sliding over a plate of the take-out from earlier. Steve rejects out of courtesy, but you respectfully insist, which causes him to, in the end, accept the food (mainly because he was unable to resist the pout on your face, and who wouldn’t say no to good ol’ Chinese food?) You sit and talk together at the dining table - him munching on Mongolian beef while you take careful sips from the latte he’d given you. Robin and Kate would butt into your conversation a few times, mostly to get to know Steve, asking him questions that you’d think only your family would ask.

Eventually, you retreat to your bedroom, cockily challenging him to a game of Mario Kart. You sit against your headboard, thumbs mashing the triggers as you speed past Steve.

“I’m telling you, Harrington. You can never win against me.” You giggle at him, pointing at the screen with your controller as you victoriously cross the finish line.

“You’re cheating!” He shouts, eyes wide with disbelief at how you managed to win again.

You turn to him, sending him a skeptical look. “There’s no cheating in Mario Kart! How could I possibly cheat?”

“Okay, fair. Then that means you must’ve hacked the game. There’s like no way. You’ve won like five times!”

Playfully, you toss your hair over your shoulder, finding amusement at the way he tries to stifle a laugh at your antics. “I’m just that good, Steve.”

In denial, Steve calls for another rematch, forcing you to pick a different character this time because he just doesn’t believe that you’re actually winning through Toad. Instead, you blindly pick Princess Peach, and Steve sticks with playing as the classic Mario. And to your downfall, you lose.

“Ha! I fucking knew it! Cheater!”

“Steve! I am not!”

“Yes! You won every damn time with Toad and now you’ve lost as Peach? Y/N, that’s some shady ass shit.” He gestures animatedly, wagging a finger at you.

“Uhuh. Go on. Go on. Bask in your victory. How many times have you won? Once?”

Cockily (and clearly fed up with your shit-talking), Steve asks for another match, this time, challenging you to a race around Rainbow Road. However, you lose again, causing Steve to win by one round.

“Hell yeah!” Rejoicing, he tosses the controller onto the bed. He throws his hands up, playing an imaginary trumpet with apparent joy that makes you smile.

“Oh, please. I let you win.”

“Nu-uh. I doubt it. You wanna know why?”

“Enlighten me.”

His voice drops to a whisper, tickling your ear as he leans closer into you. “I’m just that good.” You roll your eyes at his mocking tone, copying the words that you had said earlier with confidence.

“Keep telling yourself that. It’ll manifest someday.” You snort, pushing his shoulder. “Okay, so does the loser still get punishment?”

“I’m a man of my word.” He winks at you. “This isn’t necessarily a punishment though.”

“Oh?”

His chest rumbles as he chuckles, “More of an - an invitation that you can’t say no to.”

He couldn’t possibly...

“There’s this holiday ice skating thing downtown.” He starts, fiddling with the loose thread at the end of his sweater as he raises his head to meet your dumbfounded stare. “Come with me, Y/N?”

Was he asking you on a date?

Speechless, you stutter, cheeks heating up with sudden shyness. “Of course. I mean, I can’t say no, right?”

You exchange laughter, legs brushing up against each other as you scoot further up the bed.

“But do you want to say no?”

His eyes flicker up to meet your gaze. His brown eyes are intense, swirling with curiosity and anticipation as he awaits your response. With the hand furthest from your view, he crosses his pointer and middle finger over each other, silently sending a prayer to the universe that you’d say something that wouldn’t break his poor heart.

“Steve,” You shake your head. “I’d say yes even if I did have a choice.” He bites down on his bottom lip, feeling his heart pound from your words. “So, tonight?”

“Tonight. I’ll pick you up.” His arm brushes up against yours, and you suddenly become dizzy with all the emotions you were experiencing. “Sounds alright?”

“Sounds perfect, actually.”

-

Sighing, you stare at your reflection in the mirror, fingers playing with the loose strands of hair that wouldn’t stay in place. You readjust the earmuffs on your head, patting them down with a growing smile. From outside, you hear the soft ring of the doorbell echo through the hallways. With one final outfit-check, you slip your backpack over your shoulders then pick at your bubble jacket for any ugly stains or threads.

“Y/N! Steve is here!” You puff out your cheeks at Robin’s shout, giving yourself a brief pep talk before you’re barreling towards the front door. Robin grins proudly at you, placing her hands on your shoulders with a content look. “Don’t make an idiot out of yourself.”

You chuckle, placing your hands over hers. “Thanks. I’ll be sure not to.” She pulls you into a hug, whispering in your ear to call her if anything goes wrong. Turning the knob of the door, you’re met with Steve on your doorstep.

He smiles widely when he raises his head, face softening when he sees how cozy you look. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You shut the door behind you.

“Y-You ready to go?” He gestures at the motorcycle parked on your street - red and white, and all Steve Harrington.

“We’re going on that?” Realizing how rude that must’ve sounded, you continue. “I... motorcycles are just - they - I’ve never been on one, so...”

“There’s a first time for everything.” He laughs, scratching his jaw. Noticing your uneasy expression, he reaches out to touch your forearm. “Hey... you’ll be fine. You’ll love it.”

You sit behind Steve, calming yourself down as he starts up the bike. Wordlessly, he hands you his helmet.

“Are you sure? What about you?”

He shrugs, “Take it. Want you to be safe.” You place the helmet over your head, shivering from the cold. “You gonna hold on now or what?”

“Huh?” Steve takes your hands in his, placing them over his stomach so that your arms wrap tightly around his waist. “Oh, right. Yeah. Of course.”

Your breathing halts for a minute as he revs the engine, before he’s pulling into the street carefully. You squeak as he drives faster, whizzing past cars and stuck taxis. The chilly wind blows through your hair, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes your throat. Steve feels his heart grow at the sound, glancing back at you when the stoplight turns red.

Beautiful. Gorgeous. Pretty. No word in the world could describe you. But perfect seemed like a close one.

Steve helps you off the motorcycle, holding your hand as you hop down. The ice rink is filled with people, while Christmas music plays faintly over the speakers by the bleachers. He doesn’t let go of your hand; neither of you utter a word about it as you walk over to the rental skates. The only time he pulls away is when he puts his ice skates on, tugging on the laces expertly before he offers to fix yours. You don’t reject, laughing at the mess of strings you had accidentally created. His hand finds its place with yours when you head into the rink, holding onto the sides for support as you both get yourselves accustomed to the slippery ice.

Soon, you and Steve start to race each other around, nearly bumping into strangers as you glide past him. He grasps your hand before you can escape, which causes you to fall back into his chest from the sudden action. Steve instantly catches you, holding you by your hips before you can plummet to the hard, cold ground.

“Easy there, tiger.” He laughs against your skin, cold breath nipping at your neck. You blush, finding your footing once more. You spin around to face him, eyes trailing over the snowflakes that line the ridges of his beanie. “Did I tell you how, um, how cute you look... tonight?”

“Steve...”

“I mean, you look cute everyday but the whole...” He points at his ears. “...the whole earmuff thing brought out the - your - your cuteness.”

Just as flustered as you, he leans beside you against the rink’s fence, blinking up at the stars. You look over to him; you count the freckles on his jaw and the way the corner of his mouth turns up into a shy smile when he catches your eye. You dig the bladed toe of your skate into the ice, planting yourself in place as Steve slowly angles his body towards you. His hand comes to rest behind you, then his face is merely inches from yours. You hold your breath. Steve’s gaze flickers down to your lips, and the bridge of his nose gently grazes against yours. His head lowers while he parts his lips and closes his eyes.

He’s going to kiss you.

Until your phone buzzes loudly, and you groan in irritation. Steve’s face falls, and he tears his longing stare away from your lips when you step back to answer it.

Fucking hell.

“Hello?” Your voice is weak, raspy as if Steve had already kissed the life out of you - which he didn’t. Because you just got interrupted. “Kate? Yeah. What do you mean I... oh, fuck. You guys aren’t at home anymore? Fuck. Yeah, okay. Thanks. No, I’ll figure it out. It’s fine. I swear. Alright, bye.”

“Everything okay?” Steve sounds disappointed, but also worried, based on the tone of your voice.

“I left my freaking keys back at the apartment.” You laugh bitterly, cursing under your breath. “Kate and Robin had to go to Levi’s for something urgent and they won’t be back till like later-later.”

“Oh.”

“Yup.”

“Then come back to my place.”

What? Your jaw falls open at his words, and you rub your eyes to make sure that you aren’t dreaming.

“Are you sure? I could always find someone else and-“

“No, no. It’s okay. Plus, I live really close. It’s not a big deal for me or Jonathan.”

You and Steve linger around the rink for a few more hours. The tension between the two of you is clear - the accidental touches and accidental, nervous eye contact. Once the rink starts to clear up, you both decide to go home (or well, to Steve’s place).

-

His lofty two-story apartment is the same as it was during the party, only this time, silence fills the emptied space. You toss your shoes in the corner by the door, wincing when it echoes loudly throughout the living room. Steve pads out of the hallway, handing you a warm set of clothes.

“Steve, this is a lot. I’m only staying for tonight. I can sleep in these.” You huff, shrugging your jacket off and hanging it over the couch.

He shakes his head, smiling at you. “Here, it’s just a nice gesture from me to you. I’m insisting.” You hesitantly take the folded pile of clothing from him, holding it to your chest as he directs you to the bathroom.

Out of your cold and icy clothes, you tug down the long sleeves of Steve’s thermo, inhaling the sweet scent of vanilla. Then, you move towards Steve’s bedroom, knocking softly at his door. You hear a brief ‘yeah!’ from the inside, and you poke your head through the crack between the doorway.

“I’m gonna go sleep now...” You nod your head over to the couch by the TV. “Thanks for letting me stay.”

“No problem. You’ll be fine back there?”

“Yeah, thank you.” Steve sits on the edge of his bed, playing with his hands as he blinks at you. “G’night.”

You retreat towards the couch, plopping onto the leather cushions with a grunt. You lay the plaid blanket over your legs and curl up into the bundle of pillows. Burying your hands between your thighs for warmth, you shut your eyes, hoping that sleep would find its way soon.

It doesn’t. Tossing and turning don’t help at all - neither does the stiffness of the couch. You try your best to fall asleep, whether it be browsing on your phone or turning on the TV, nothing brings you there.

You knew you were making a bad decision once you had gotten up, letting the blanket trail behind you like a train as you quietly tiptoe into the hallway that led into Steve’s room. You screw your eyes shut when your hand reaches out to turn the knob, which makes the door creak slowly when you push it open.

The hall light peeks into Steve’s dark room, causing him to turn onto his back when he sees your figure. “Y/N...?”

“Hey, um... I can’t really - really sleep, so I was...” You clear your throat, hoping your voice would stop trembling already. “I was wondering if I could... stay with you? If that’s okay. With you. Maybe.”

You tug the blanket tighter around your shoulders, searching Steve’s sleepy face for a reaction. He mumbles something inaudible, before he pulls the comforter back and outstretches a large hand towards you.

“C’mere, beautiful.” He whispers as you crawl onto the bed, tucking your feet beneath his white sheets. He flips onto his other side, facing you with a tired smile.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

He laughs into the pillow, while you innocently bat your eyelashes up at him. You find his hand under the covers, your pinky finger latches onto his, and you bite back the hazy grin on your face.

“Y/N?” Steve murmurs, a curl falling against his forehead.

You place your free hand on his arm. “Shhh...”

“Can I... can I...”

You force yourself to stay awake, listening to him stutter endlessly. With half-lidded eyes, you meet Steve’s admirable stare. Then, his hand leaves your pinky, trailing up your side until he stops at the nape of your neck. The bed shifts as he rolls closer towards you.

You gasp lightly when he kisses your forehead. Then the tip of your nose. Then your left cheek. Your right. And finally, he halts for a moment. His thumb swipes across your jaw, and you feel your eyes slowly, slowly, slowly close. Your eyebrows furrow in thought when Steve continues tracing letters on your jaw.

His finger follows the curve of the eight letter until the pad of his thumb lands on your bottom lip.

He spells out the words: I like you.

Steve tilts his head, and you squeeze his hip to let him know that it’s okay. A euphoric feeling washes over your chest when his lips press against yours. They’re soft - a little chapped from the cold - but it doesn’t faze you. He tastes of pumpkin spice, and you lean further into him for more. Laughs bubble from the two of you when you accidentally elbow his cheek, but return into the kiss once more.

He lets his lips hover over yours for one moment, then he places a chaste peck on them before he’s pulling back. He doesn’t want to. But he did need oxygen.

Yet, who needs oxygen when a person makes you feel like they can provide you all the possible air in the universe?

Steve smiles again when he recognizes the relaxed expression on your face. He pushes your hair away from your face, and then, he’s drifting off to sleep as well.

You take his breath away.

And at the same time, you’re the fresh air in his lungs.

-

TAGLIST

@aphrodites-perfume @itsametaphorbriansblog @delicrieux @ultrunning @l0ve-0f-my-life @novaddictx @liakgs @loulouloueh @charming-fan-girl