#fic: accident prone

[thecreelhouse]

accident prone

part four - hold me in the dark

Paring: Steve Harrington x Francesca “Frankie” Amato (fem!OC)

Summary: The bond between Steve and Frankie continues to grow, alongside a poorly hidden secret. Despite it all, the two continue to find the sunshine breaking through clouds they force apart.

WC: 10k+

Includes: a whole lot of hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, language, disability, fibromyalgia, lupus, discussion of medical trauma, treatments, flare ups, caretaking, bad flirting and more friends to lovers nonsense, more blooming friendships!! (apologies if i miss anything, I’ll add if necessary!) basically, this one’s heavy, take caution before reading.

series playlist ⋮ masterlist

the end - halsey

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

“if you knew it was the end of the world / could you love me like a child? / could you hold me in the dark? if you knew it was the end of the world / would you like to stay a while? / would you leave when it gets hard?”

A/N: thank you to anyone who has stuck with this series. I cannot express how much that means to me, even if it’s only a handful of y’all still here. originally, this part was 11k, then I split it to balance some scenes out, but it still ended up at 10k anyway. I wanted to explore with Frankie’s past, how her and Steve grow closer, and how she fits in with everyone. apologies to anyone I told this would be the happy, fluffy part 😭 it’ll be part 5, promise. it’s been cathartic to write this. I hope you still enjoy this if you read <3

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It’s been one month—give or take— since Steve opened up to Frankie about everything regarding his past. The more they trust one another, the harder it gets for Steve to push his feelings aside. 

Steve’s never done aqua therapy before, but the mere thought of not having to feel pressure on his joints for a few hours a week had him elated.

The running theme of water aerobics, and any sort of therapeutic aqua activity, is that the popularity lies among elderly folks. So what a pleasant surprise it was for him to walk into the physical therapy center’s pool, eyes landing on Frankie among a bunch of older folks.

What a fucking relief.

Steve, who once had no concern showing off his body while swimming, covers himself in an old t-shirt with his swim trunks, hiding the worst of his scars. He notices the one piece Frankie wears, with the shorts nearly reaching her knees, t-shirt draped over her figure; the cotton weighed down with water exposes her shoulder a bit. He catches a glimpse of a blotchy, mottled pattern; his lingering stare is one second too long, hinting to her to cover the exposed spot, and she does.

“Steve!” She waves excitedly from the pool at him, losing grip of the foam weight in her other hand; it bounces out of the water, splashing her face. She frowns comically as she giggles, while a chuckle rises out of Steve, too.

“Hey, Frankie,” Making his way to the bench near her end of the pool, he’s rubbing the back of his neck, another one of his nervous habits; he shoots a half-smile her way. “Didn’t realize we were scheduled at the same time.”

About to respond, Frankie’s cut off by one of the elderly women swimming up beside her. “Francesca, I didn’t know your boyfriend would be here!”

Her face flushes red, eyes wide as saucers, “Wh— Louise! He’s not—“

“She—“ Steve shakes his head and hands in front of him, “We’re just friends.” He has to refrain from wincing at his and Frankie’s words.

That stings to say out loud.

Louise hums, amused. “Mhm, and Percy’s just my friend, too.” She smiles with kind, knowing eyes at Frankie, cheeks round as she chuckles. Then she looks over to Steve and winks as she swims away. “You kids have fun!”

“Louise, it’s physical therapy,” Frankie quips, hands on her hips as she narrows her eyes at the older woman. “You need to get out more if you think this is fun.”

“Can’t! The polka club’s closed for renovations!” She cackles before joining her group on the far side of the pool. Frankie turns back to Steve with a cherry red blush sweeping across her face, matching his own embarrassment, visible in his bright red cheeks.

“I can’t even be mad,” She rolls her eyes with a growing grin. “She’s literally me if I reach that age.”

Almost laughing, Steve catches her peculiar wording. “If?”

Frankie’s face drops, mouth opening to explain, but Steve’s physical therapist comes over, introducing himself before leading Steve to the other end of the pool, where the water treadmill is. He glances back at Frankie, trying to convey through his stare that this isn’t something he’s letting slide.

“Francesca! Jets are open if you want to use ‘em,” Louise breaks her thoughts, and as thrilled as she would be to use the massage jets after a round of PT, they just had to place them right next to the water treadmill.

Reluctantly, she swims over to the wall with the jets, avoiding eye contact with Steve, only feet away. He, on the other hand, won’t take his eyes off her.

There’s a murmur between Frankie and Louise, leaving Frankie cherry red under her freckles all over again as she swims off once more. Rolling her eyes, Frankie turns the jets on, but the pressure comes out heavy and rapid; Louise being the powerhouse of an elderly woman she is, forgot to turn down the settings for the younger woman. 

“Jesus Christ, Louise,” Gripping the wall, she winces as the force of water nearly pushes her over, giggling through the pain. She turns the settings down, playfully glaring at the older woman as she gets out. “Always has to have the jets on full blast.”

To someone healthy and fit, the pressure of the massage jets wouldn’t be an issue, but Steve knows how it feels to ache on a bad day, just from wearing certain clothes. Clearly, the pressure’s enough to bother her.

“Sorry, kiddo!” Louise grimaces as she apologizes, wrapping herself in a towel twice her size, perching on a bench nearby.

“It’s fi—“ Frankie sucks in a sharp breath as she tries using the jets again, eyes scrunching shut as her body tenses up. Even on the lowest setting, the pressure is almost unbearable. Steve’s never seen her react like this to anything uncomfortable.

“‘Key, you alright?” Screw the water treadmill, he can’t take seeing her in pain; he swims off and makes his way over to her. “Hey, look at me,” Steve tries leading Frankie away from the rush of water, hands slipping into hers as gently as possible. 

“Yeah, m’fine,” She croaks out with her eyes still shut, throat tight as she fights back tears. “Just need to get out.”

“Here, let me h—“

“N- no, it’s good, you should finish your session,” She slips out of his grasp, wading through the water to the steps. “I overdid it today, s’all.”

Steve’s left in the water alone, while Frankie cautiously navigates her way to the bench holding her towel; Louise shuffles over to help the younger woman, leading her to the locker room. Glancing back at Steve, she nods with a reassuring look that Frankie’s in good hands. He figures as much from the little interaction he witnessed between the two, but it’s not much easier jumping back into physical therapy with worry clouding his mind.

Still, he tries his best to continue his session without letting new anxieties eat away at his mind. He tries his best to stay focused, make it through the next hour. He tries his best to believe if something was wrong, Frankie wouldn’t hide it from him.

 That’s all Steve can do— try, try, try.

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Since PT, Steve hasn’t heard from Frankie. It had only been a day, and today, he had off because of a follow-up appointment he had scheduled. He tried calling the night before, but never got an answer. It’s hard not to panic, not to assume the worst, especially after the comment she let slip without explanation.

“She’s literally me if I reach that age.”

If. If. If.

The word bounced around in his brain since the passing comment was made; what did she mean by ‘if’?

“Steve?”

Snapping back to reality, he jerks his head up to find Dr. Amato glancing at him with concern.

“So- sorry. What was your question?”

“How did physical therapy go?”

Does he know what happened to Frankie? Should I say something? No. That’s not what he asked. Don’t get distracted.

“It was… alright.” His stare falls to the floor, rolling his ankles in circles as his legs hang off the exam table he sits on.

Dr. Amato crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair. “Just alright?”

“No— I mean— it was good, just not…” He trails off, conflicted on what to say. He wants to tell the doctor he liked the concept of aqua therapy, that he wants to continue it, and from the little bit he could focus on, he thinks it could help. But there’s no way of mentioning that without mentioning Frankie. He settles on, “It was good.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. Would you want to continue sessions?”

Steve nods, trying to push his concern for Frankie to the back of his mind. “Yeah. S’kinda nice not having to worry about pressure on my joints for an hour a week,” He laughs weakly. It’s not a lie, he really does like that part of PT.

“How comfortable are you with multiple sessions a week? Or do you want to keep it at one per week?”

As great as the water felt on his joints, the exercises kicked his ass; he’d be worn out more often than not if he did PT more than once a week. “Maybe one, until I get used to it? Is that… can we do that?”

“Kid, you know your body better than anyone else would,” The doctor doesn’t sound condescending, it’s something he stands by firmly. “We can start with sessions once a week, but if and when you decide you’re ready, we can add more as necessary. That sound good?”

Heavy concerns on his mind aside, it’s still so refreshing to have a doctor that not only cares, but believes him, too.

“Absolutely,” He gives the doctor a weak smile, but it’s genuine, at least. 

Dr. Amato finishes writing in Steve’s chart. “Is there anything else you’d like to discuss?”

Steve shakes his head, “No, I think we covered everything”. Even though it’s his second time here, he feels so at ease to open up about his health ailments without fear of judgement.

The doctor clears his throat, closing Steve’s file, chair creaking as he leans back. “Steve, off the record, can I ask something? You don’t have to talk about this either if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Uh, n- no— I mean yeah! Yes.”

Dr. Amato sighs, crossing his arms again. “I’m asking this as Frankie’s father, not as a medical professional: how has she been doing, really?”

Eyes widening, Steve’s mind spins. What does he mean by that?

“Is— is this about the physical therapy thing?” 

“The wh— oh, boy. I wasn’t even aware of anything happening there,” He runs a hand down his face, reminding Steve of Hopper. “Look, you don’t have to tell me anything, you’re both adults. But I figured I’d ask you noticed anything… different lately, since you’re friends, and co-workers.”

Steve’s brows furrow, fidgeting with the edges of his sweatshirt’s sleeves. “I- I’m not sure what that means.”

“To put it bluntly, I believe she’s experiencing a pretty intense flare-up, but she refuses to tell me. I know asking you is strange, and again, no pressure to confide in me about anything, but you’re the closest person to Francesca these days.”

Me? What about her other friends?

Then it dawns on Steve; she never talks about other friends. Does Frankie have anyone in her life outside of Steve, or her father? What about Rhi and Cade?

From what Frankie has told Steve, he knows she trusts her dad. She has a good relationship with him, but also worries about him. Maybe that’s why he’s left in the dark on something occurring, but Steve is, too. If it’s for her well being, he’ll discuss the little he knows, or witnessed. 

“Only thing I’ve noticed was what happened yesterday. She was in a lot of pain… more than usual. The— those massage jets in the pool, they hurt her, and—“ He can feel empathy weighing heavy on his heart for her as he recalls the moment. “I… if I’m being honest, I’ve never seen her in that much pain. At least she’s never shown it that visibly before.”

Dr. Amato sighs heavily as he nods, and Steve hopes he hasn’t said too much.

“I hate asking this of you, Steve, because you’ve got your own chronic illness to worry about, but would you mind checking in with her when you can? Not asking you to snitch, or anything,” He gives his own uneasy, nervous laugh. “But if anything of… concern comes up, I—“ He shakes his head, gathering his files, giving Steve a somber look. “It’s her story to tell, not mine. Just don’t be afraid to push her to get help, if she needs. Please. I feel you’ll have an easier time convincing her than I would.”

This isn’t a parent pushing their responsibilities to care for their child, even as a full grown adult, off onto someone else; this is a single parent, probably neck deep in work, running out of options to get his only child to be honest about just how severe things have become. He lost his wife, Frankie’s mother, to a sickness not even treatment could save her from. He must be terrified of even the possibility to watch that replay with his own daughter.

Steve also cares about Frankie, really, really cares deeply about her, so it’s a no-brainer response.

“Absolutely, Dr. Amato. I- I’d do—“ Steve, don’t say it. Don’t get emotional. “I’d do anything if it meant keeping Frankie safe.”

Goddammit, why can’t you shut your mouth for once?

Dr. Amato stands, towering over Steve, concern still written all over his face, but a flicker of hope and some kind of ease, too. “I know, Steve. She probably won’t tell you, but the friendship you two have is one of the best things to happen to her in a long while.” He shakes Steve’s hand, which Steve finds out of place in a conversation like this, but assumes the doctor is just taking the professional route. “Thanks, kid. I’ll see you in a month for a follow up, but don’t hesitate to call if you need.”

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The following day, Steve was surprised to find Frankie so upbeat when he entered the record shop. She’s sweeping along the tiled floor, singing along to the music pumping through the speakers, a little off key, but it brings a smile to Steve’s face to see her doing better today.

At least, that’s how it seems.

She’s bopping her head along, dancing lazily, sometimes humming along to the words she doesn’t know; she’s lost in whatever song fills the shop, with a distracted smile on her face.

“In my darkest dreams I see, you’re much closer now to me. I have got you in my hair, I can feel you ‘round me everywhere.”

Steve’s mesmerized by the pure joy she’s radiating, completely enveloped in her own little world, unaware the door’s bell chimed out, or that he’s just standing there, unable to tear his eyes away. In fact, when she spins around, she’s immediately startled at the sight of Steve, dropping the broom as she yelps.

“Christ, Steve, you can’t sneak up on me like that!” She clutches her chest, heart about to beat out of her chest, only to dissolve into a fit of giggles. He smiles apologetically with a shrug. “Hope you didn’t hear too much of my bad singing.”

“Who cares— you should hear me singing along to whatever’s on the radio on road trips,” He hands Frankie her coffee; it’s his day to grab their orders. He loves this small routine they’ve fallen into, but today was one of the many lately where Cade and Rhi tease the hell out of him for not telling Frankie how he feels. Seriously? Does everyone know except her? He shakes the thoughts from his mind, focusing back on her. “Usually Robin’s ready to kick me out of the moving car, and I’m the one always driving.”

Frankie pauses mid-sip of her peculiar yet regular iced coffee order, snorting over Steve’s words.

“Just wait ‘til we drive somewhere for awhile, I think you’ll get sick of me real quick. If I’m not singing obnoxiously, I’ll talk your ear off.”

I’d never get sick of that, or you. 

She’s just joking along, but Steve finds himself shaking his head, softly replying, “No way. I- I’d like it.” A gentle smile floats across his face, followed by a deep blush, stammering to explain, “Y’know, I- like— if we took a trip somewhere— together— I mean, duh, together, you said that, it’s—“ Jesus, Steve. Shut. Up.

Frankie’s smirking at him. “I’d like that too.” She sets her coffee down on the nearest surface, bending down to pick the broom back up. Any happiness visible vanishes in an instant as she tries to get back up, not making it very far; the broom slips from her grasp as her legs give out, sending her crashing to the floor. Thankfully, it was a short fall, but she curses under her breath, face twisting up in the same discomfort Steve witnessed days ago.

He sets his stuff aside, dropping to the floor. “Shit. You okay? Here,” He holds his hands out, but she swats them away; he wasn’t expecting that, leaving him stunned.

“I can do it. M’fine,” She huffs, looking away, embarrassed. 

“‘Key, I’m not saying you can’t—“ 

“It’s okay, really. I- I’m fine.” She takes her time getting back on her feet, grabbing onto a nearby sturdy shelf of CDs to lift herself back up. “See? I’m okay.”

He can’t just drop this, though. “Why won’t you let me help you, the way you help me?”

Frankie’s mouth opens to respond, but not a word comes out. There’s not much of a chance for any response anyway, not when the door’s chime sets off again. The pair turn to find Robin, Eddie and Dustin entering with big smiles on their faces. 

“Okay, surprising you here might be way better than a hospital,” Dustin snorts. 

Eddie, has no greeting, eyes going wide at the new surroundings, whispering, “Holy shit.”

“They insisted on coming here to see you two,” Robin shrugs, smirking. “I was practically held up at gunpoint. By Dustin.”

“Whoa, not cool, I’ve never once owned anything dangerous like that.”

“No, but you did wield that long electric prod that you practically stabbed that evil doctor with—“

“To save your lives!”

Steve sighs, rolling his eyes, before turning to Frankie with a hint of a smile, “Here we fuckin’ go again.” It earns a giggle out of her. If there’s anything she’ll allow him to do to make her feel better, at the very least, he’s happy he can make her laugh. Still, low enough for only her to hear, he murmurs, “I- I wanna talk about all of this later. Just you and me. Okay?”

Frankie huffs out of her nose, but her body relaxes, relenting on the defensive front she wants to hide behind. “Okay. M’sorry.”

Steve grabs her hand quick, squeezing it, “Hey, don’t be sorry. You’ve got a lot going on. S’all gonna be okay, I promise.”

“So… can I live here?” Eddie asks in a dreamy state, drinking in every little detail of the indie record shop. “This place is so fucking cool.”

Steve releases Frankie’s hand, noticing the way Robin eyes the two of them curiously. He narrows his eyes at her, and she whistles, wandering away. 

“Eddie, there’s a record store across the street from our place,” Dustin laughs, but Eddie shakes his head animatedly.

“Yeah, but it went all corporate, and shit. The world needs more hidden gems like this,” He throws his arms out, spinning around in a circle. “Not another fuckin’ Sam Goody.”

“Hey, they have good deals sometimes!” Robin argues, but Eddie flips her off, wandering to a section with guitar strings and picks. 

“You guys should just move to the city at this point, with all the trips you’re taking,” Steve’s mostly teasing, but Dustin can’t hide the shit-eating grin growing on his face.

“Funny you mention that…”

“Wait— wait, really? Henderson, I swear to god if you’re fucking with me—“

This catches Eddie’s attention, and he zips back over to the group, hands animatedly flowing as he explains, “So, okay, funny story, somehow my uncle, and his mom managed to get into some weird, long distance relationship—“

“It’s really just yearning like they’re in some gothic romance novel, writing letters to one another and shit,” Robin cuts in, snickering.

“Which would build to something, like all relationships do eventually, Buckley!” Eddie quips, rolling his eyes with a scoff. “Anyway, long story short, he wants to head to Florida, move in with her. Our lease ends in a month, and, I shit you not, Steven—“

“Don’t call me that, man.”

“… Big boy?”

“Not that either!”

Frankie, all the while, is back in a fit of giggles behind Steve; it brings a small smile to his face, one only the other three can see. 

“The apartment across the hall from yours? Available. Well, it was.”

“Basically, surprise! We’re neighbors now. Well. We’re gonna be neighbors,” Dustin’s grin grows even wider, as if that was even possible.

Steve’s heart swells with joy; he can’t believe his other best friends are moving here. Here, in the city, but also right next door. After being apart for years, aside from trips here and there to visit on another, he can’t believe they’ll all be together again. It feels right. Familiar. 

The family he found, the one that’s given him more than his family by blood ever had, ever will, will be together again. At least, partially. He misses everyone that’s moved to California. Hell, he even misses, Jonathan and Nancy, still out in New York City. But this news, his two best friends moving here, makes coping with the major changes and trauma left behind a little easier.

And he loves Robin, she’s his number one, as he is her’s, but he’s been worried he holds her back sometimes. For a while, Robin was the only friend he had out here. She gave up a lot of nights out with new friends, dates with women she’d never meet back in a small town like Hawkins, to be there for her best friend. She doesn’t regret it, and he’s thankful for any moments she’s been there for him, but the guilt has always lied underneath it all. Robin never once said or sought out to make him feel like a burden, but it was still on Steve’s mind.

Then, Frankie came along, not only a new friend, but a friend who understood him on a level no one else has or could currently. Not firsthand, at least. And sure, Eddie had his health issues, had to use mobility aids when he was recovering, and he and Steve bonded over that for a bit, but aside from the PTSD they all have— still crippling in its own ways— he’s surprisingly healed enough to not have chronic pain. Not like Steve still has. 

Frankie opened Steve’s eyes to a world where he can exist, sick but unapologetic. Trying his best, but not punching himself down for what’s out of his control. He could be disabled and happy; the two absolutely can co-exist.

It all feels like things are finally falling into place for Steve; it feels like he’s finally sighing a breath he’s held for five years. Maybe, just maybe, he can enjoy life again without dreading what’s yet to come, or feeling guilty for simply existing. Whatever’s bound to happen in the future, good or bad, he’s surrounded by his closest friends, his family.

Whatever the future brings for Steve, he can handle it now.

“You can play D&D with us again!” Dustin exclaims, fist pumping into the air.

Okay, except that.

Steve’s face reddens, eyes shifting between his friends and Frankie, laughing it off sheepishly. “Whoa, wait, I played like, three times at most—“

“Hey, man, don’t try saving face just ‘cause Frankie’s here.” Eddie smirks, eyes darting over to Frankie who looks confused. “You’re still a nerd like the rest of us.”

“I— shut up—“

“You guys play?” Everyone turns to Frankie, dead silent, and she stammers, feeling like she’s on the spot now. “I- I- used to, in school— well, when I wasn’t missing school and seeing friends ‘cause I was sick a lot, but…” She trails off with a shrug.

“See, even Frankie’s a nerd!” Dustin throws his hand out towards her, making her laugh, but he still elaborates, “That’s a compliment, I promise.”

“So why are you—“ She pokes Steve’s arm, “So offended by being called a nerd?”

“I— I’m not—“

All three of his friends respond at once:

Dustin with a deadpan, “Oh, he absolutely is offended by that, still.”

“It’s the ‘King Steve’ complex that’s still stuck like old bubblegum, probably,” Eddie jokes slyly.

“He’s in denial, more than I was when I was in the closet.” Robin taunts, laughing at her own remark.

“Wait, hang on, that’s fucked up, Rob.” Steve can’t help but laugh despite his words.

“I’m just being honest!”

“Hold on, back up, what’s this ‘King Steve’ shit?” Frankie’s so amused as the shade of embarrassment across Steve’s face spreads to his neck, only growing deeper. 

“Oh, it’s— let’s not—“ He tries shrugging it off with a ‘pffffttt’ noise and a nervous laugh. “I told you before, I- I was… not the greatest person in high school.”

“He was a dick,” Dustin bluntly points out, and Steve shoots him a glare.

“Never expected to ever become best friends with him before everything happened at Starcourt,” Robin’s honesty makes Steve shake his head. “That’s not a bad thing, dingus. Just a wild plot twist!”

“Big boy over here hated me,” Steve’s ready to fight Eddie as he speaks the truth. “If it weren’t for Dustin, he’d probably still hate me.”

“Or, you probably would’ve stabbed my neck with that fucking broken beer bottle first.”

“Whoa, man. Thought that water was under the bridge.”

“I’m just saying!”

Dustin turns to Frankie, paying no mind his two older brother figures. “Ignore those children,” She giggles while they both glare at her, then Dustin. “I wanna know what touristy things we should do before we move here.”

“We are not children! You’re the infant, Dusty Bun,” Eddie snaps back with a grin.

“Only Suzie can call me that, and you know it!”

“Well, I—“ Frankie holds her hand up to Eddie, and his jaw drops. “Are you telling me to talk to the hand?” He pulls out the dramatics, clutching his chest. “Frankie... How could you?”

“Anyway, I got lots of fun suggestions!” She turns from Dustin, eyes darting between Eddie and Steve. “No children allowed, though.”

Robin, meanwhile, is cracking up during all of this.

“What if we kiss and make up?” Eddie cracks while he waggles his brows at Steve, who rolls his eyes and reels back.

“Eddie, man, get the hell away from me.”

He simply shrugs, “Your loss.”

Dustin throws his hands up, blocking the two of them out of his sight. “Can we ditch them? I wanna ditch them.”

Steve scoffs, “You little shit—“

His one hand balls up, poking his middle finger at the two of them, attention still on Frankie.

“Actually… there is something I still haven’t tried yet,” Frankie mentions, shyness pouring out suddenly, almost worried of rejection. “If you guys are up for it, that is.”

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Everything’s surreal up this high from the Sears Tower, and Steve? Oddly enough, for how cautious and anxious of a person he has become, he loves this. There’s something that puts him at ease being above the city’s grid and all the chaos and routine running through it.

But Frankie? The idea in theory sounded exciting, but now that they’re all up here…

 “Oh… no, it’s— “ She eyes the window behind Steve, freezing in her tracks feet away. Tensing up, she’s nervously babbling, “I’m— you enjoy it, I’m good right here— safe— I- I’m safe here.”

Frankie keeps her distance from the window, leaning onto her cane and fidgeting with the wrist strap. She’s afraid to peer over the edge of the railing, despite the thick glass, terrified of the height they’re at.

Steve turns back around, holding his hand out to her. “C’mon, I got you.”

“Yeah but what if there’s, like, a freak accident and the glass breaks and I fall? And you’d fall, too. If we died ‘cause of me, I’d never forgive myself.”

It sounds absolutely absurd, and Frankie expects Steve to poke fun at her, but he only continues holding out his hand toward her.

“Frankie.” He gives a reassuring smile, only to crack, “You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you’re dead.”

“Steve, that’s not helping!” She laughs a little, but she’s frozen in place. Steve steps closer, hand still extended toward her.

“You’re safe, I promise.” Steve doesn’t want to push Frankie if she’s truly uncomfortable, but she’s been excitedly talking about the observation deck all day, and would hate to see her miss out on the view. “Like you told me, you won’t let anything hurt me, so I won’t let anything hurt you. I swear.”

With a trembling hand, she grasps onto his, letting Steve guide her over to the railing. She takes a deep breath as he stands behind her, glancing down toward the city’s aerial view for just a second. Eyes widening, she spins around to walk off, but bumps directly into him instead with an “oof!”.

“Nope, not so fast,” He grabs her shoulders, slowly turning her back around to stay at the window. Steve stands behind her, hands lazily gripping the railing as his arms cage her in. He leans down to her ear, murmuring, “You’re always safe with me.”

Frankie sets her cane against the railing, hands slowly sliding over his, fear-fueled trembling beginning to slow. She mutters more to herself, in reassurance, but Steve still hears it, “Safe with you.” 

Off in the distance, boats sail along the green-blue hue of the lake, while the sunshine’s reflection glitters along the surface. Standing alongside the buildings feels strange, and the view of the cars and people and trains from up here just make them look like toys. There’s not a cloud in the sky today, but Frankie’s sure if there were any, they’d be close enough to reach out and touch.

A few feet away, they hear Dustin say the timeless, “I can see my house from here!” joke. They both burst into snorts and giggles, with Steve glancing over to the kid— Dustin’s always going to be a kid to him— he’s considered a younger brother for so long now, watching the way he enthusiastically smushes his face against the glass. 

“What house? He’s literally looking out at the lake,” Steve stifles a laugh, shaking his head, as Frankie takes a quick glance over, snorting. Eddie and Robin are pressed against the glass now, searching for whatever the hell Dustin’s pointing at. They’re standing on the railing, squishing only their faces against the windows.

Her brows crinkle, head tilting with curiosity. “Why are they pressed against the glass like that?”

Steve follows her stare, then returns to her with a knowing smile, “You know that scene in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off?”

Frankie shifts to face Steve, totally lost as her eyes meet his. “…. No.”

“Wh— are you kidding me?”

“I’ve never seen it…”

“First you tell me you’ve lived here your whole life, and never came up here until today, and now you’re telling me you’ve never seen that movie?!” She just shakes her head, smiling with a cringe. “Wanna watch it later? But only if you’re up for it, though. If you’re not feeling well, you should rest— are you feeling okay now? Shit, I should’ve asked before we got here—“

“Steve.” Frankie’s hands slip entirely away from his as she turns completely, leaning against the railing to look up at him. She’s so close, so close to him, it’d be practically effortless to lean in and kiss her.

Christ, stop thinking about that. We’re friends. Just that. Only that. Nothing else. Friends.

“I’m good aside from the fatigue, but I’m really glad we’re here, even if it’s a little scary.” She gives a nervous, soft chuckle, eyes landing on his lips, lingering for a second too long. Her eyes screw shut, nodding, “B- but I’d— yeah, I’d like that. I can’t promise I’d stay awake though.”

Now Steve’s mirroring Frankie, gaze falling to her lips, plush and pretty in the warm, soft smile she defaults to often. He sucks in a breath, forcing himself to bring his eyes back to meet her own.

“Yeah, that’s…” Steve, focus. “That’s fine. Maybe it’s better to hang at your place then, in case you need to rest. I- if that’s okay with you, of course.”

She hums in agreement, turning back to the window. Her hands slide back over his, “I’d like that a lot. All of us, right?”

While he was hoping for some alone time, it makes him happy to know she’s comfortable around his friends. Her friends, too. She glances back over to the other three, a smile pulling wider across her features as she watches them laugh and joke about god knows what.

“Your friends are fun to be around.” Frankie’s staring out to the skyscrapers nearby, gradually shrinking closer and closer to the ground the farther she looks out. Her thumbs sweep across the backs of Steve’s hands subconsciously; they still tremble a little, but the contact of her hands on his keeps her grounded. “Thank you for always including me.”

“They’re your friends too, y’know.”

“Oh I— I didn’t want to assume—“

Steve shakes his head, even though she can’t see. “You’re a part of this little, weird… whatever the hell kind of friend group we’ve got going on here.” He chuckles, “Unless it’s too weird for you, then I totally get it.”

Frankie tilts her head up and back, trying to look at Steve, grinning, “Yeah, ‘cause I’m the definition of normal.”

The way her eyes crinkle in her smile, nose scrunching as she teases, all Steve wants to do is lean down and kiss her, even if the angle is awkward. 

Quit thinking about kissing her, don’t make it weird.

 It’s such a strange, grey space to float in; they’re so comfortable around one another, with touches that aren’t fleeting anymore, they linger. They’ve been flirting, mostly teasing one another, displaying little acts of affection that stick with Steve for days— but nothing has come from it. Nothing more, at least.

Even if he and Frankie were stuck in this cycle of friends with a hint of more, he’d be happy. He longs for more, but he’s just grateful to know her, bonded together by unique circumstances. By now, Steve’s learned not to depend on one person for happiness, but is it such a crime to naturally feel elated by someone’s presence, and how well they flow with you?

“S’pretty from up here.”

“See? Not so scary, huh?”

She shakes her head and speaks faintly, it’s barely even a whisper, “Not with you.” Making the move first, she spreads his fingers apart with her own, lacing them together while still resting her palms against the backs of his hands.

There’s something. This has to be something.

Steve doesn’t think, doesn’t hesitate before he gently kisses the top of her head.

Frankie’s blushing wildly, though he can’t see, and feigning disgust through a scoff, “Gross, Steve.” She giggles as she squeezes his hands, while he scoffs a laugh.

“I’ll remember that, Amato.”

“Shh, Steve, shut up, I’m busy sightseeing” She’s shaking as she tries holding back more laughter, pointing to the lake. “Oh! I can see my house from here!”

“See!” Dustin shouts. “Frankie gets it!”

Yeah, ‘Key, you fit right in.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨

Frankie finally watches Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and giggles throughout the entire movie, sharing a loveseat with Steve. The two inch closer to one another over time, and halfway through the second movie, Poltergeist, she’s hiding her eyes behind her fingers. Steve teasingly pulls her hands from her face, so she ducks her head into his chest.

“We can turn it off if you want,” He whispers to her, but she shakes her head.

“No, I love horror movies, m’just a big wimp,” She rolls her eyes at herself, despite Steve barely being able to see it. 

“Think you might’ve picked this one just to have an excuse to cuddle,” He bravely teases, hoping it’s not a touch too far. Relief floods through him as she snuggles into him even more.

She tilts her head up and glares back at him playfully. “Maybe… maybe not.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie hisses from the couch he’s sprawled out on. “Can you two lovebirds shut up?”

Both Frankie and Steve sit up with defenses, “We’re not like that—“ and “He’s— we’re friends!”

“Yeah, and I’m straight,” Robin mutters from the floor, earning a cackle from Dustin over in the recliner. 

Sighing in annoyance, Steve lays back down, pulling Frankie with him as her face turns red. Embarrassment and irritation flows between the two of them. Their friends mean well, really, they do; it’s just lighthearted teasing. Yet it still tugs at the reminder for Steve to not get caught up in feelings that won’t be reciprocated.

Yawning, Frankie wraps her arms around Steve’s waist, face resting and squishing up against his chest to watch the movie, but it’s not long before she’s fast asleep.

This isn’t new, not Frankie falling asleep on, or near Steve, at least. It hasn’t happened in front of his friends, though, and his interest in the movie is long gone, now focusing it all on the girl he’s been falling terribly hard for. 

As Steve plays with Frankie’s hair gently, sinking into the pillows so, so carefully, trying to get comfortable without waking her, attentive to any faint noises she makes in her sleep, worried she’s going to wake up in more pain— he has no clue his friends are watching him.

Robin notices first, catching in the corner of her eye the awkward way Steve shifts against the cushions, throwing his legs over the armrest, holding Frankie close to him. She snores once, so softly, but it makes Steve smile. His fingers run up and down her spine, slowly, gently, ghosting their touch along her back in patterned caresses. His own eyes begin to grow heavy, and he fights sleep a few times, only to drift off regardless; one hand is woven in her hair, his other arm wrapped snug around her waist, keeping her secure against his own body.

Turning back to the others, Robin finds Dustin and Eddie admiring the two of them together, too.

“We should probably head out,” Dustin whispers as the older two nod. 

They collect their things, let the tape play through, quietly slinking out of Frankie’s apartment. On the way out, Robin sticks a note on Steve’s forehead, holding back a snicker as he scrunches his face up in his sleep.

Eddie quietly closes the door behind them, glancing up at Robin and Dustin once the door clicks shut.

“I know you guys have been friends with him longer, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so… comfortable with someone else.”

They make their way out of the building, with Robin agreeing, “Yeah, neither have I. Haven’t seen him this content with anyone in years.”

“Not even with Nancy, honestly,” Dustin adds.

There’s a silence that falls over them as they head down the sidewalk. They’re all thinking the same thing, but Eddie still has to ask.

“Do you think he—“

“Yeah, he totally does,” Robin cuts Eddie off.

Dustin just smiles knowingly. He’s called it, they all have from the start. Steve’s the last to know, the last to figure it out, like always, but he’ll get there. He always does.

This time, though, when Steve falls, Frankie will be there to catch him. They just know it.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨

A few days later, Steve comes into the shop, enjoying the warmth of another beautiful spring morning; he makes his way through the quiet, dark store while sunlight’s beginning to peek through the windows, spilling across the rows of records.

I could’ve sworn Frankie said she’s opening today, he wonders if he read his calendar wrong. The faint sound of weeping that floats out of the dark break room shoves that thought aside.

True to his personality, Steve rushes in, panicked and ready to protect his friend from whatever has her upset.  Frankie’s on the worn, beat up couch, head in her hands as she folds forward to her knees. The lights are off in the room, and he wonders if that was intentional.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” He drops his stuff on the floor, sliding onto the couch next to her. He’s ready to throw a comforting arm around her, but pauses, just to double check, “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Frankie sits up, quick to wipe her tears away. “I- I’m fine. It’s all good.” Her voice wavers, betraying her words. She won’t look at him, but she looks exhausted from what Steve can observe. Her bottom lip trembles, so she curls it inward, but her eyes crinkle at the edges as tears taunt her, ready to fall all over again.

“You’re not good,” Steve holds out an arm, signaling her to sink into his embrace, if it helps. She does, because it does help. She leans into him, and the tears start all over again. “You told me I had to be honest about what hurts me, I need you to be honest about your pain, too.”

“S’just a flare up.”

“Flare ups can be a big deal, ‘Key.”

“Well, I don’t want it to be a big deal!” Steve can empathize with her stubbornness; it’s so disheartening to do well for some time, just to crash into a flare up once again. It’s a constant, cruel reminder you’ll never be healthy. You’ll never get better. “I wish you’d drop it, Steve. I- I know you care, but I’m fine.”

It must be bad enough if she’s in denial like this.

Steve’s been doing what he can to learn more about lupus, to help comfort Frankie where he can in times like this; life has been hell for him with fibromyalgia alone, he can’t begin to imagine the pain and suffering Frankie feels with lupus. She carries herself so well most days, carefree and spirited, always smiling and cracking corny jokes or shooting off her sarcasm, while carrying love for everyone and everything good in her life.

If it weren’t for the tell-tale signs of a flare up, or using a mobility aid, one would never guess she’s sick from a quick glance, or brief interaction.

“What if I take over today? You can go home and rest—“

“No,” Her voice is firm, bitter, and doesn’t match her current appearance at all. Her ruined makeup has dried in streaks running down her face. Steve frowns, realizing she’s not herself at all.

“No?”

She sits up, eyes heavy with fatigue, and Steve notices the faint butterfly rash spreading rosy red across her features. Tenderly, the back of his hand rests against her forehead, eyes widening at the sudden temperature change.

“Jesus Christ, ‘Key, you’re burning up.”

“I know m’hot, don’t gotta tell me,” She jokes with a weak smile, if even existent at all. The faint smile flips into a frown with ease. “Steve, I never got your coffee— fuck. Shit. I’m so sorry.”

While alternating days of ordering each other’s coffees became a pleasant routine for Steve, it’s the last of his concerns right now, though.

“It’s just coffee, that’s not a big…” Bloodshot, glassy orbs glance back at him, breaking his heart. Hands cupping her own, he gives a gentle squeeze. “Hey, it’s okay, ‘Key. Seriously. Please don’t beat yourself up over that.” The fever’s getting to her— hell, this entire flare up probably has her on edge. Steve knows even when he has a cold, everything feels distant mentally; he can only imagine how rough a fever is along with other flare up symptoms.

“But I… I forgot.” 

Outside of flare ups, Frankie’s memory is usually sharp as a tack. Now, though, she’s lost in a fog of pain and a hint of delirium. 

“Hey, honey, it’s okay,” Steve surprises himself when the endearing term comes out with ease. “Do you still want— shit, wait, you probably shouldn’t have coffee right now— “ He squeezes his eyes shut, stammering, “Fuck, uh— tea? Maybe that’ll help, might be soothing. Would that work?”

“I got some at home, but I’m okay, Steve. I just need a second. B- but I can open today,” She’s up, and only on her feet for a second, reaching out to steady herself on something. Like the very first day they met, Steve acts quickly, catching her as she stumbles. Unlike that day, though, this time is worrying him.

“You’re not okay, and you’re not working today.” Steve’s tone is firm as he helps Frankie sit down safely. He kneels on the floor before her, hand slipping under her chin to lift her gaze up to his. “You’re not riding this fever out on a damn break room couch, either.”

Much to his surprise, she doesn’t argue back. Maybe the fatigue and aching has worn her down to nearly a shell of her usual upbeat, independent self. Defeated, she asks with one word, “Home?”

If cradling one another’s faces with their hands was an Olympic sport, both Frankie and Steve would be tied for gold. Both of his hands hold her face gingerly as he nods.

“Yeah, I’ll take you home.”

“No,” Her head shakes. Wrapping her fingers around his wrists weakly, she asks with bleary eyes, “Come home with me?”

There’s a pang in his heart; the sweetly phrased question is laced in pain and fatigue, and in another timeline, where Frankie and Steve are healthy, it’d be one to send his heart racing with excitement. Instead, it’s broken, tangled in the grief that comes along with yet another flare up.

Yet another reminder one never fully gets better with illnesses like these.

He gives her a pensive smile, “F’course, ‘Key.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“You ever wish you could share your headphones with someone?” Frankie’s peering out her open bedroom window from her bed. She looks so cozy in a loose sweatshirt and gym shorts, nursing a cup of tea Steve made for her. The Tylenol she took seems to be kicking in, which is a relief to Steve; her temperature earlier read 101 degrees, just above being a low grade fever.

There’s a comforting, gentle breeze coming from the window, giving her some relief from overheating.

Steve’s face crinkles with confusion as he laughs. “What?” He’s on the opposite end of her bed, wearing the same pair of sweats she let him use the first time he came over, tea mug sitting empty on the windowsill.

 “Yeah… like, when you wanna listen to the same tape with them, or something?”

“… Just use a stereo?”

“Not the same! There’s something intimate about sharing your favorite song with someone in real time, y’know?”

No, he wouldn’t. He’s never been into music enough— nor have his past partners and friends— to think about something sweet like that. Maybe Robin or Eddie would find it fun, but they all have vastly different tastes in music.

“I- I wouldn’t know.”

“Someone should make headphones, but they go inside your ears,” She turns to Steve, golden hour of the day’s sunset gleaming over her worn features. How the hell is she always so beautiful? “Like, little, tiny earplug-like headphones,” She pinches her thumb and index fingers together, holding them by her ear. “And they’d be connected by a wire on each, right? So it’d be so easy to share with someone else. Each person uses one of the earplug-headphone-thingies.”

He teases, “Oh, is that the patented name for it?”

“Yeah! M’gonna invent it. You just wait,” She sets her mug next to Steve’s, sinking under the covers a little further with a sigh, eyes heavy with fatigue. “Then we can share our favorite songs together.”

Shaking his head with a chuckle, Steve’s captivated by the sunlight gleaming along her figure; even covered in blankets and comfy layers, there’s something angelic about the scene of her before him.

“So, we gotta wait ‘til you invent those headphones?” He scoots to her side of the bed, sliding under the covers next to her. 

“Earplug-headphone-thingies, Steven,” She corrects him.

“Just because you’re in a flare up doesn’t mean you get to throw my full name around like that.”

“You’re right, it’s unfair if I don’t know your middle name.” She rolls towards him, poking his chest, “Spill it, Harrington.”

“Absolutely not, Francesca.”

“That’s another quarter.”

“Jesus, have some mercy, will ya’?”

“Hm… might spare you if you hold me.”

“You’re asking for a lot,” Despite his teasing, Steve winds his arms around Frankie, bringing her closer. She’s still too warm, but it’s not as intense as earlier, thankfully. He’s just above a whisper as he asks, “How’re you feeling?”

She sighs, tucking her face into his shoulder, “Honestly, I feel terrible.” She falls into silence, long enough that Steve wonders if she fell asleep.

“‘Key?”

“Y’know, the night you told me about everything… with Hawkins, and the Upside Down… when I found you outside, you told me you didn’t want me to see you like that.” Frankie’s on the edge of a mirthless chuckle, “I remember thinking that we’re both sick, we’re bound to see the worst of one another’s illnesses at some point… but now I can’t stop feeling the same as you did— I really never wanted you to see me like this.”

“You’re right, it’s kinda inevitable two sick friends would see each other at their lowest points, but that won’t drive me away.”

“That’s the thing, though. We’re both sick. What happens when our flare ups occur at the same time? Even if you’re not in a flare, you’re still in pain. I feel awful that you’re pushing yourself to take care of me.”

That doesn’t matter when you love someone.

Steve’s grateful Frankie can’t see his face right now, eyes wide as saucers as the truth finally collides with his thoughts he won’t dare to speak aloud. He prays she can’t feel the way his heartbeat practically stops, or how he’s holding his breath, afraid to exhale a confession.

… Oh.

He can’t tell her; even if he wanted to, this isn’t the time right now. So now he has to sit with this revelation in silence, shove it to the farthest corner of his mind. And really, is it even much of a revelation to begin with? He’s known about his feelings toward Frankie for months now, but to effortlessly think about caring for her as an act of love, that’s… that’s new.

How the hell do I tell her without actually telling her?

 “You’re always caring for me through your pain, let me do the same for you.” Steve’s fingers run through her hair, ever so gently, afraid he’ll hurt her somehow in such a vulnerable state. “I care about you, Frankie. A lot.”

“That’s what scares me.”

“Huh? What do you mean by that?”

Frankie rolls onto her stomach, crossing her arms in front of her on the pillow before resting her chin on them, eyes refusing to meet Steve’s.

“Five years ago you were leaving behind the worst shit you’ve ever experienced,” She doesn’t give into crying, despite the way her voice wavers and bottom lip wobbles, ever so slightly, in a pout. “Five years ago, I had the worst flare up of my life. I never went through one so intense before that.”

Steve turns to her, arm still draped over her torso lazily. He stays quiet, ready to listen, fingers tracing slow circles on her back.

“Usually, it was joint pain, some mild inflammation in spots, the rash I have on my face now, low grade fevers— common, mild lupus symptoms.” She sounds so worn down, but holds strong. “But the worst flare up went beyond all of that. It just got worse, and worse; I had rashes that turned into sores all over, fatigue made it literally impossible to stay awake, I was losing hair, and I couldn’t walk much without my legs giving out. That alone made me severely depressed, too. Just a constant cycle of bracing myself for the worst, and worrying if it’d ever get better or not.

“The usual meds I took weren’t enough. Nothing was getting better. I woke up one morning and couldn’t physically leave bed, like m- my legs would not move.” She tilts her face into her arms, trying to hide what she can of her face as tears threaten to break. “I was paralyzed, Steve. I’ve never been so fucking scared in my life.”

It’s as if the oxygen was sucked out of the room instantly; Steve feels his heart sink as his breathing hitches in place. He can’t wrap his head around how terrifying that must’ve been for her. How terrifying it’d be for anyone.

“And, y’know, like a stubborn idiot, I tried hiding it from my dad, but that just earned me an ambulance trip and upsetting him more than I was trying to avoid to begin with. I didn’t want him to worry, but that backfired. He still worries so much, and maybe that’s ‘cause he’s— I- I don’t know, it sounds stupid, but I think he’s afraid to lose me the way he lost my mom.”

That would explain why Dr. Amato felt panicked enough to ask Steve to step in and check on Frankie. It explains why she’s so quick to shrug off her own pain.

“It’s not stupid at all, Frankie. He worries because he cares, it’s what parents do.”

Except mine.

Steve shoves that thought away, too; again, not the time. “So… what happened? What caused it? How— sorry, this is gonna sound ignorant, but how are you able to walk now?” 

“Damn, Harrington, one question at a time.” She breaks into a faint smile, one that Steve is relieved to catch a glimpse of. “Myelitis. My spinal cord was inflamed, and that causes a whole fuck-ton of problems, like partial or full paralysis. My limbs would go numb sometimes, or tingle like when your foot falls asleep, but I couldn’t shake it off. Made my arms and legs weak, and the pain was a nightmare. I was lucky enough to get treated in time to make a decent recovery, but it’s why I still can’t control my hands sometimes,” She laughs with an eye roll, but it’s bitter and short, “Like when I dropped my damn coffee.”

Steve figures as much, but it comes full circle when he remembers a conversation he and Frankie had the first day they spent together.

“Do you just paint as a hobby?”

“I actually had plans to become a tattoo artist, did an apprenticeship and everything.” 

He can still hear the disappointment and grief in her admission of giving up on a dream.

“Can’t really tattoo when you’ve got unpredictable hand tremors, though. S’why the paintings are such a wreck.”

Frankie finally opening up only makes that memory even more gut wrenching to think about.

“Is that why you couldn’t become a tattooist?” 

She only nods, balling up the ends of her sleeves in her fists, squeezing the fabric in her palms roughly.

“Took months to recover, with a ton of physical therapy and IV treatments, since my meds weren’t working. I used a wheelchair for awhile, sometimes still do on my worst days… but things are— were going so well lately,” Frankie still won’t look at Steve, but even from what he can see, her stare grows distant as the memory tries to pull her out of the present. “My hair obviously grew back, and I can walk, most of the time with a cane, but it’s better than nothing. And I— there’s a lot of parts of me I don’t like showing, ‘cause I have scars from the sores. My skin’s all mottled and veiny. Looks aren’t everything, but it still sucks when you look bad on top of feeling bad. I was disgusted with myself every time I saw my reflection.”

That also breaks Steve’s heart; Frankie’s right, looks aren’t everything, but it certainly doesn’t help to watch your body drastically change out of your control while already chronically ill. 

“If m’being honest, sometimes I still am,” She admits with her words cracking. “It’s hard to look at the damage my own body inflicted on itself and be okay with all of… that.”

Steve so badly wants to counter her beliefs with the truth before his eyes; Frankie is truly the most beautiful person he’s ever known. Yet, he doesn’t want to come off as if he’s romanticizing the situation, nor does he want  to make it seem like he’s being nice, just to placate her self doubt.

“All of that was so hard to survive, even after the threat of paralysis, or death, were gone. I didn’t want to stay anymore, it was so hard to find joy in anything, or plan for a future I wasn’t sure was mine to begin with.” Finally, she turns on her side, gaze locking with Steve’s as she breaks; tears spill down her face as she curls into herself. “The few friends I had got sick of me being sick, eventually stopped talking to me. I was alone and afraid to try talking to anyone new.”

“What about Rhi and Cade?” This has been on his mind since Dr. Amato told Steve he’s the closest person to Frankie right now. “Aren’t they your friends?”

It’s a fractured smile, then a huff, “Kinda. Rhi’s busy with school, and Cade’s always with his boyfriend, so I never see either of them unless it’s getting coffee. At least there’s that, but growing apart because of life sucks. It’s just…everyone is busy, and I get it… but being alone for so long hurt. Hurt real bad. Probably why I came on so strong when I met you.”

“That wasn’t how I saw it. You have no clue how glad I am that you talked to me first.” Gingerly, he pushes stray hairs from her face, fingers trailing down to her cheek before resting his hand there. He sweeps his thumb along her cheekbone, really noticing the size difference between their hands as she wraps her hands around the one on his face. “I wanted to say something at the coffee shop, but it didn’t feel right with everything going on. You were also way too fucking cool for me to approach you first.”

Frankie giggles through her tears. “You’re just being a kiss-ass now.”

“Swear to god I’m not. You—“ He resists spilling the truth, watering it down to, “— you’re the best thing to happen to me in a long fuckin’ time, ‘Key.”

 Her laughter and tears shedding evolve into steady crying, eyes screwing shut as she shudders a breath. 

“I— god. I want you so much closer, Steve, but I’m so fucking scared.”

His heart skips a beat, and he’s dying to ask what that means, but she only cries harder. Steve winds his arms around her, gently, holding her once more. 

Is Frankie scared he’ll leave? She’ll get “too sick” for him and he’ll walk away? Or maybe she’s scared something will happen to her, hurting Steve emotionally.

“You’re not going through this alone. Whatever happens, I’m right here with you. Nothing will change that.” He means every word. “You’re so important to me, ‘Key.”

She hiccups, face buried in his neck. “But what if I—“

“Frankie.” He pulls back to grab her face softly, eyes never leaving her own, despite how hard it hits to see her so broken. He’s unsure where it comes from, but he responds with his own vague confession, “When you’re ready, you tell me. Until then, I’m by your side as much as you allow. M’not going anywhere, not without you.”

Steve hopes, prays, wishes on some shooting star in a night sky somewhere above the world that they’re on the same page, that she’s saying what he thinks she means. That he’s saying what she wants to hear.

There’s no verbal response, no way to tell for sure they’re seeing eye to eye, just Frankie holding him tight with weak arms. She ducks her head back into his shoulder, body heat is still high; Steve’s bracing himself for the worst, but right now, he hopes she knows just how cared for and loved she is.

When Steve promised Frankie’s dad at his appointment that he’d do anything to keep her safe, and swore to her high above the city that she’s safe with him, he meant every fucking word.

As if Frankie can read his thoughts, she murmurs into his shoulder, “Safe with you.”

[epiphainie]

this is one of those fic ideas i wanted to write for every ship i've ever been into so it will probably never happen but i'd like to have a silly story with 40 yo, single, lonely tommy kinard who's been down on his luck all his life - like i'm talking ridiculous levels of mom dying at childbirth, dad being terrible, horrifically unfortunate experience of the military, a series of failed jobs, a series of failed relationships, friendships never sticking for long, risks he takes always going south, somehow getting paper cuts through chainmail gloves, missing the bus while trying to avoid his daily encounter with the neighbor's dog etc. - one day opening the door of his downtrodden studio apartment to this beautiful man who stands there like a fucking angel. who looks at tommy with big apologetic eyes, red cheeks of shame, and twiddling thumbs of guilt and stutters, "so, uhm, i wish you didn't have to learn it this way but hi, i'm the guardian angel who, as it turns out, misplaced your files about four decades ago, and so uhm it just resurfaced, haha, and like yeah, i've been banished here for penance. i'll take the couch, it's fine."

[lulublack90]

Prompt 2 - Oyster

@wolfstarmicrofic June 2, word count 711

Previous part First part

They had a bit of free time while all the new campers got settled in before the next activity started, so they were all relaxing in their cabin. 

“What are we doing next?” Sirius asked from his bed where he was firing tiny bits of balled-up paper with an elastic band at James, who was giving as good as he got.

“Arts and crafts today, to ease in the newbies,” James replied, his paper missile pinging out of the elastic band and somehow lodging itself up Peter’s nose. “Oh, shit, sorry, Pete!” James put down his band and went to help Peter. Sirius looked at Remus and burst out laughing. Remus chuckled quietly. 

“They’d better have something good to do and not like last year,” Sirius said as he shot paper balls at the back of James’s head. 

“What did they do last year?” Remus asked, unable to help himself. Sirius jumped up from his bed and flopped beside Remus, rolling onto his side and propping his head up with his hand. 

“Ah, dear, dear, Remus. Last year they gave us oyster shells to paint as jewellery dishes and poor Peter here managed to break his and slice his fingers open with the sharp edge. Had to go to the hospital, didn’t you Pete?” Peter nodded and held up his right hand to show Remus the little scars that formed a perfect line across the lips of his fingers. 

“You seem to be a bit accident-prone,” Remus blurted out before he could stop himself. He sat horrified. He’d only just met these people.

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Sirius snickered while Peter stuck his fingers up at him.

“Peter stay still,” James told Peter off as he turned his head back to where it had been. James put his hands on his hips and huffed, puffing out his lips as he tried to figure out how to get the paper out of Peter’s nose. 

“Has anyone got any tweezers?” Remus asked, looking at Sirius at the same time the other two did. 

“Why do you all assume I have tweezers?” Sirius pouted. “Oh, alright! They’re in my toiletry bag.” Remus’s eyes widened when he realised that Sirius expected him to go get them. When he didn't move, James went through to their little bathroom and grabbed them.

“Keep very still Petey,” James warned, his tongue already poking out of the corner of his mouth. 

“James, are you sure you can do this? Maybe I should go see Mrs Pomfrey,” Peter said, with a note of panic in his voice. 

“Pretty sure Pete,” James said as he moved the tweezers towards Peter's nose with a slightly shaky hand. Peter noticed. 

“Nope,” He said as he darted away from James. He jumped on Remus’s bed and hid behind him. “Remus, save me!” Remus got a sudden surge of courage and held out his hands for the tweezers. 

“Give them here, James. I’ll do it,” Peter didn’t look any happier about it. “Don’t worry, Peter,” Remus said kindly. “I’ve got a steady hand,” He held up his hand to show how it didn’t move. “Lie down, and I’ll have it out in a second.” Peter flopped back onto Remus’s bed. Remus tried to ignore the fact that everyone bar James was on his bed. He shook his head and moved closer to Peter’s face. 

He held the tweezers out and just as he was about to pluck the paper out of Peter’s nose, James sat on the bed, bouncing them. Remus froze. “You two,” He pointed at James and Sirius, “Off. Go and stand over there.” His bossy self took over. James and Sirius didn’t even question him and went and stood in the corner quietly. Remus turned around and in less than a second had the paper out. Peter hadn’t even noticed having his eyes screwed shut. “All done,” Remus smiled. “Now get off my bed,” He ordered, pushing Peter off his pillow. 

"You're brilliant, Remus," Sirius grinned as he bounced across the room, closely followed by James, and jumped straight back on Remus’s bed. Remus sighed, sensing this was going to become a regular occurrence. But he felt for the first time in his life he might finally have some friends. 

Next part

[orestesimp]

Rainy Night Patrol

CO-WRITTEN WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Summary: Miguel comes home after a night of patrolling with a lot of pent up tension to find you sound asleep.

Content: Somnophilia, panty-tearing practises (in this fucking economy?!??! I know gurl) jerking off with panties kind of? overprotective Miguel is our favourite Miguel. Rough sex. Multiple orgasms and overstimulation (cause do I evern write anything else anymore?). Implied violence against random street criminals.

A/N: Pre-established relationship with pre-established consent for somnophilia.

Word Count: 4,800

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

Rainy nights in New York are the fucking worst.

It brings out the worst in people. Stressed-out bankers who will push old ladies out of their way to get to a seat on the subway. Drunken assholes who piss everywhere, making everything reek, and alleyway mugging seems to increase by a disproportionate amount whenever it's pouring.

It surprises Miguel that street robbery even happens outside of comic books anymore. Do these people not have a computer? Cybercrime is a thing. A successful phishing scam targeting a bank employee can net millions overnight.

Yet here Miguel is, headbutting this public nuisance for trying to rob and assault a sorority girl on her way home, fists eating into the man's face. Even though it is evident by now that there is no way the man has a fighting chance, he refuses to stop. He's hissing and spitting at Miguel, lunging at him with the ferociousness of a rabid racoon.

The easiest solution would be to bite and paralyze and call it a night. But from the reek of stale sweat and copious body Axe spray coming off of this asshole, Miguel has no desire to put any part of this man's body into his mouth.

So here Miguel is, putting this bargain-bin Sylvester Stallone wannabe in a headlock and slamming his head into a street lamp in an attempt to knock the man unconscious, instead of where he wants to be: home, in your questionably sized apartment and lumpy feeling bed.

Christ, he hates this city.

By the time it's all said and done, and everything is wrapped up, it's already past midnight. As he slinks in through the window sill into your bedroom, you're fast asleep.

You're lying on top of the quilts, the bedside lamp still on, which means you've been up waiting for him, even though you're supposed to have an early morning tomorrow. Something, something about how it's year-end and you have to present... something or the other.

It's... endearing that you still do that, try to wait up for him every night, even though you should know by now that more often than not, he'll be home much too late for you to still be awake.

Climbing inside the bedroom, the post-fight adrenaline is still surging through his veins. He's riled up, irritated. There's heat brandishing under his skin that is pushing at the edges begging for an outlet.

He glances in your direction. You look so soft in the dim bedroom light, half of your face buried into the pillow.

No, tonight is not the night. You need your sleep.

With a shake of his head, he walks over to his side of the bed, letting the Unstable Molecule fabric of his suit recede until he's left standing naked in the half-darkness of your bedroom.

Dragging away the sheet, he tucks it over you, you hum and shift in your sleep. Leg swinging Akimbo over to his side before he's even had the chance to lay down. The oversized sleep shirt does nothing to disguise the curves of your body, falling completely off one shoulder and riding up to reveal the tantalizing curve of your bare thigh.

Shit.

His mouth waters at the sight, cock half hard just from watching you. It's not helped by the adrenaline still buzzing in his head. It wouldn't take much to get him the rest of the way there.

Miguel groans and rubs the bridge of his nose, trying to ease the tension growing between his temples. How exactly is he supposed to be getting any sleep with you lying next to him, all soft heat and sweet little hums that make him want to grind up against you like a cat in heat?

The weight in the bed shifts as you roll back away from him. A quiet snore issues from where you’re digging your face deeper into the pillow, clearly exhausted. 

Fuck, guess he's just going to have to try. It'd be cruel to wake you now.

He slides into bed next to you, settling for the comforting warmth of you next to him, as he curls one arm around your waist and wraps himself around you. Burying his face into the warm nape of your neck and taking a deep inhale. The smell of your shampoo and soap that pleasantly lingers on his skin, washes away the memories of the stench of rain-soaked streets of this city, the disgusting smell of sulphur and piss.

New York throws a lot of stuff in his way. Muggers, arsonists, would-be murderers. It's nothing he can't handle. And he can handle what it throws at you too. Whether it is torrential rain or some freak force of nature threatening to put you in harm's way, it doesn't matter. He keeps you safe.  And despite all the close calls, you're still here. Still alive. Still his.

His hand slides over the curve of your thigh at the thought, needing to feel your warmth underneath his fingertips. Goosebump prickles your skin at his caress, and he watches the way your back arches, pressing into his touch, even in your sleep.

A slow steady warmth blooms in his chest at your reaction. It's a heady blend of protectiveness but also pride. The universe itself can throw any tantrum it wants. He'll protect you from it all.

Your eyes stay shut, still clearly asleep, but your mouth parts with a needy hum, and Miguel gives you what you want, easing your body back into his arms. Like clockwork, you snuggle back against him, and the slight wiggle of your ass brushing against his front ensures there's no half about how hard is dick is anymore.

Needy heat rolls off his back in waves, and he slides one hand under the hem of your shirt and up along the softness of your stomach. If you were awake, you would be leaping away and smacking him for tickling you. But now the touch just makes you stretch and let out a contented little hum, your nipples already drawn up tight and hard for him by the time he reaches them.

Why are you so reactive when you're sound asleep? Part of him thinks you must be doing this on purpose; there's no way you can't be when he feels you shift again, the soft lace of your panties brushing up against his aching cock.  He palms your hip, following the edge of the lace down over the curve of your ass, then hesitates.

You only pull out the lacey panties when you really want to rile him up. Saving them for special occasions because (as you never fail to mention while scolding him whenever he's ripped another pair in the heat of the moment) 'fancy underwear isn't cheap!' One of these lacey thrilly little things easily would set you back at $80 a pop. Miguel isn't exactly hard pressed for cash, but he sees your point.

Still Miguel doesn't know what he is supposed to do when you keep pressing back against him the way you are at the moment. He grits his teeth, jaw muscles protesting as he grinds them together, knowing fully well he's fighting a losing battle. It’s really only a matter of time. Miguel isn't a fucking saint, and right now the need riding the length of his spine is burning hot enough to incinerate him.

Oh fuck it!

Hooking a finger around the hem of your panties, he eases them to the side, and his hips hitch forward, rubbing himself against you. Sharp pleasure skitters along his back, and he has to bite down the groan in his throat. He draws back, and does it again, letting his cock ride along the curve of your ass. Letting his aching, leaking cock settle between your cheeks, the delicate lace trapping him in place against you.

You’re definitely gonna bitch at him later for stretching out the elastic. But that's okay, you'll forgive him, the way you always do.

He holds there, gently rolling his hips, doesn't go too forceful or too eager with his thrusts, some half-formed intention to not wake you. Thighs shaking as he savors the contrast between your smooth skin and the textured lace. He tells himself that he should take it slow and not disrupt your sleep. But Miguel's never been a patient man.

His hands are already moving, reaching, before his brain has anything to say about it, fingers hitching your panties even further to the side, and fuck the elastic, he'll buy you a new pair. Shit, he'll buy you twenty new pairs. A whole fucking store of panties if that's what you want.

He pulls back, presses forwards again, cock sliding between those plush thighs, the head, slick with precome, gliding smoothly against you.

And fuuuuuck.

He drops his forehead against your shoulder, eyes squeezing shut to ground himself. He can feel how wet you are, drenching his cock as he skims the hard length over and through your slick folds. You're warm and inviting and oh so fucking tempting. You may still be fast asleep, but your body is telling him it’s oh so very ready for him.

God you feel so fucking good.

Angling his hips, he slides the sensitive head of his dick against your slick folds, notching himself against your entrance, gritting his teeth against the way your pretty pussy clenches at the threat of invasion. He holds himself there, breath hissing between his teeth as he teases you both, with tiny, incremental movements forward, in, and back.

Pleasure swirls through him, hot and heady, his ears buzzing with electricity. He's lost in it, but not so far gone that he misses the noises you're making, your reaction. Those little sounds of dissatisfaction, the way your back arches, pressing your hips back against him.  All of it telling him the same thing.

He presses his mouth to the corner of your shoulder. Has to hide the feral grin threatening to break out, because for all his vague intentions of letting you rest, part of him has been waiting for this. Part of him has been aiming for this exact outcome.

You. Awake. Fully ready to take him.

He presses forward again, just far enough that the head of his cock slips inside you, and is rewarded by your body clenching warm and wet around him.

Fuck, you feel too good. You always fucking do. It punches the breath right out of his lungs, needy heat singing through his veins and along every nerve ending in his body until he goes dizzy with it. There are advantages and disadvantages to enhanced senses, and right now, he's fully feeling both. Needs to get on with it, because he intends to have you coming on his cock at least twice before he's done.

Hooking an arm around your waist, he cups your mound. He stays there, pressing with his fingers and the heel of his palm, until he's rewarded by your hips hitching forward into the pressure, then rocking back again, causing you to sink down further onto him. A gasp and a small soft moan falls from between your lips.

He does it again, encouraging you to rock forward and then back again, taking him deeper each time. Inch by brain wracking inch, you take him in. He can feel your tight little pussy stretch around him, adjusting to his cock, as he presses your hips back and back and back until you're taking him all down to the root. Until he’s buried as deep as he can go.

Somehow it's not enough. Not when he's waited this long.

He centers three fingers over your clit through the lace of your panties, resting the heel of his hand just above your pubic bone, and then he presses down.

Your pussy clenches tight, and you jolt hard against him, gasping awake with a breathy 'oh' that does funny things to his brain. Makes rational thought skitter away from him, and when he hears his name on a long gorgeous drawn out moan everything inside him roars to attention.

"Miguel."

Satisfaction thrums under his skin. You’re awake, and he wants you awake for this. Wants you to know exactly who is about to fuck your brains out.

"That's right, nena," he croons, easing his hips back, and skimming his lips up from your shoulder to nip at your exposed neck, careful not to break the skin, relishing the sound of the perfect little gasp of yours. "I'm right here. You ready for my big cock, baby?"

"It– mmmmmm– It feels…" you mumble, voice still stumbling and sleepy.

He slams back into you just as you're trying to find your words, taking a bit too much pleasure in interrupting them when he hears you whine out a breathy, "Fuck, fuck!"

"What's that?" Miguel raises a hand to your chin, cradling it in his palm, tilting you back until he can press his lips to the edge of your jaw. "What does it feel like, tell me."

"Fee-feels like– ngh– like I'm already– taking your big cock." Your words are staggered, stuttered out each time he fucks his cock into you, and Miguel smiles.

"You are," he tell you, "You're taking me so well, nena."

It's a struggle for him to get the words out smoothly. He’s rolling his hips at a steady pace, fucking you in earnest now that you're awake to appreciate it. Every slick slide into your needy little pussy has pleasure burning sharp and insistent through his nervous system, overwhelming and inescapable.

He pauses, moving his hand away from your clit for a second, and grins when you whine and clutch at his arm.

"Patience," he scolds you "I've got you. I'm just gonna..."

He tucks his hand under your panties, and you stiffen against him, making a sound like an outraged cat. He knows exactly what you're going to say even before the words leave your lips, so he ignores you, sliding his fingers along the boundary where you're stretched so wide around the base of him, getting them nice and slick.

"You didn't take off my panties!? Miguel, these are my good wuh– oh fuck."

The words cut off when he locates your hard little clit, settling two fingers over it this time, one on each side, the way he knows always drives you crazy.

"What was that, nena?" he bites back a smile, "Something you wanted to say, huh?"

You suck in a breath, but he doesn't give you a chance to answer, fucking into you hard, and wastes no time resuming his former rhythm. The only thing that comes out of your mouth is a broken moan.

"Sorry, baby," he teases, "I didn't quite catch that."

You don't answer. There's no way you're going to, not with the way your body is drawing up tight, gasping for breath as if he's driving every last ounce of oxygen from your lungs.

He knows your body as well as he knows his own, and he has you caught now, like spider with a fly in its web. He keeps holding you tight against him, hips angled to drive up against just the right spot inside you, the one that has you sobbing and clawing at him with every thrust, each one forcing you forward against the fingers he has bracketing your sensitive little clit.

No more words from that smart mouth of yours now, only gasps and whimpers and cut-off moans that might be the first syllable of his name.

You're clawing at his forearm, breath stuttering in and out of your lungs in staggered gulps. Your heart beating loud and fast and alive in your chest, and he can tell that you're close now. He can feel it in the way your tight little pussy clenches and quivers around him, clutching at his cock like it wants to hold him close, closer, closest.

"Mi– Mi– Mig–" The sound stutters out of you in time with his thrusts, high pitched and desperate—cut-off moans that might be the first syllable of his name, more whine than words. Pride swells in Miguel's chest at seeing you, hearing you like this, strung out and stuttering on his cock, begging him for your pleasure.

Pleasure that only he can give you.

"That's right, nena." He fucks into you hard. Can feel you clench around him relentlessly.

"I'm right here."

You're squeezing him so goddamned tight.

"Fucking you."

It takes everything in him to hold to the same angle, the same pace. To give you just what you need, the way only he can give it to you.

"Making you come," he bites out.

You writhe against him, whining louder now, sweet noises growing higher pitched.

"Come for me, nena," he demands, and you shudder against him, your voice rising into a wail.

Your hot little cunt clamps down tight, fluttering around him, and bright spots of pain bloom into pleasure as your fingernails dig into his arm, drawing blood. Your pretty eyes flutter shut as the whole of your body tenses under him.

Fuck, you're coming.

"That's– fuck– That's it," he grits out, slowing his thrusts, rocking against you gently to help draw out your orgasm. To buy himself a freaking second so you don’t take him over the edge with you. He keeps the soft rolling rhythm until the wracked shivers seizing your body settles. Counting down the seconds until the grip of your nails into his biceps is easing, and then…

"Again," he demands, snapping his hips forward, fucking into you hard, "Come for me again, nena."

Miguel locks his arm in place, holding you at the angle that will let him hit that perfect spot inside you every time, the one that makes your eyes roll back in your head, and he intends to have you seeing stars. He hears your breath leave you with a strangled noise, feels your pussy clench tight and perfect around his cock, and grins through gritted teeth.

If he times it juuuust right, he can send you over the edge a second time. He's done it before, forcing you into another orgasm before you've even come down from the first, and he’s not above using his enhanced reflexes to make you do it again.

And right now? The way you're writhing against him, hands and arms and pussy clutching at him, like you're trying to pull him closer—pull him in, despite the fact that he's already fucking you as deep as he can go. All of that tells him his timing was spot-fucking-on today.

It doesn't take long. It never does when he makes you come this way. And thank fuck for that, because the feel of you clenching around him is almost enough to take him over the edge with you. He has to grit his teeth as he slows to the gentle rocking rhythm you like best when you’re coming. His free hand fisting in the bed sheets, claws digging into them in a way he knows will earn him another scolding later. But R.I.P. your damn linens. Better them than him. You may have come twice, but Miguel's not ready to be done with you just yet.

This time, when you come down, he keeps things slow and gentle until you go loose and boneless. Forces himself to slows further until every muscle in your body melts under his grip. You sink down into the mattress with a little sigh, like you're ready to drift back off to sleep just like this, safe and snug in his arms, his hard cock still buried inside of you.

And if he wasn't so hard up, skin crawling with need and desperation, maybe he'd let you.

But that’s not happening tonight.

Unfortunately for you, Miguel's too hungry for you. Starving. Wants to lick and bite and swallow you down to the very marrow of your bones. 

He's been good. He's been patient. Has held himself back while he made you come. Twice. Satisfaction burns bright in his chest, almost as bright as his need for you. Two fucking times he's gritted his teeth, holding back his own orgasm by the skin of his fucking fangs as that pretty little pussy came around his cock, squeezing him so tight that for a second he was sure he'd black out and see god behind his eyelids.

Miguel is out of patience. 

Any intention to go easy on you because you need the rest is gone. Any consideration for your early morning tomorrow has flown the nest.

Hands on each side of your hips, he rolls the two of you, easily flipping you forward onto your stomach and drags you down along the bed. You stay limp and relaxed, as you let him move you like a ragdoll, positioning you the way he wants, head and chest resting against the matress, ass in the air.

Once he's got you where he wants you, he takes just a second to admire you, taking in the way those pretty lace panties highlight the curves of your ass but do nothing to conceal your slick center, pulled to the side as they are, leaving your pussy fully exposed, all pretty and puffy from how well he's fucked you and glistening in the low light.

You shiver under his heavy gaze, and he can see the way your pussy clenches, can see how wet you are, shining slick, halfway down your thighs.

Miguel must've taken too long with his one second. A soft inquisitive "hmmmmm?" emerges from where your head is buried in the pillow, and you rock your hips gently side to side.

His dick jerks at the obvious invitation. Precome oozes from the tip, and he takes himself in hand, lets himself stroke once to spread it along his length, as though he wasn't dripping with you already.

"What's that, nena?" he bites out. He's so fucking hard for you, cock aching from holding back, but even now, he can't help but tease and goad you. "You want more? You didn't get fucked good enough already? Does that pretty pussy want my cock?"

"Mmmmm.... yes," you say, one hand outstretched behind you, making a 'gimme' motion at him.

The gesture is ridiculous, but he can't help the way it makes his chest pull tight. You're always so ready to have him, no matter how much he tires you out. Suddenly, he can't wait another fucking second to be inside you again. 

He starts to line himself up, the wet heat of you just kissing the head of his dick when you tense up and make a sound of alarm. Fear stings his spine, and he freezes.

"You okay, nena?" he asks, pulling away from you, suddenly terrified that he's hurt you somehow.

Miguel has always been big—even before the "accident" that changed him—and he's bigger now, exponentially stronger.  He’d thought he was being careful, but fuck, it'd be all too easy for him to let his strength get away from him, to go harder than you can handle.

"Are you hurt? Was I- Was I too rough?"

Because he forgets sometimes. Forgets that others don't heal at an accelerated rate like he does. That your body isn't protected by enhanced endurance that lets him walk off falling from a building, barely feeling the six broken ribs and fractured arm that results.

It's why he needs to protect you. 

Always. 

Unlike him, you can be hurt. Can be broken, can be killed. And if he’s hurt you, then he–

You make a negative sound, shaking your head.

  "No, you big doofus," you mumble out into the pillow, and Miguel's heart slowly starts to ease its way out of his throat. "The panties. Take them off first. Don't want them to tear."

He stops, blinking in confusion as his eyes narrow down at you.

Your. Fucking. Panties!?

Really? His mouth curls down into a peeved frown. That's your fucking priority right now? After he's fucked you silly, made you come twice the way only he can?

"You want me to take your panties off, nena?" he demands, tone low and harsh, edging forward on the bed until he’s looming over you.

"Yes," you confirm. "They’re my last good pair." You’re nodding your head energetically in a way that tells him he hasn't done nearly as good of a job of tiring you as he thought. He’ll have to fix that.

With a snarl, he lances the crotch of your panties with a single claw, ripping them off your body.

"Miguel!" you squeak, clearly not expecting that, your voice pitched with disbelief, "Did you just–?"

"They were in the way," he manages to rasp out, lining himself up and pressing forward, unceremoniously shoving inside.

The tight, hot clench of your pretty pussy is blindingly good. It always fucking is. And just like always, Miguel is lost to it. He holds there, buried as deep in you as he can get, shuddering against you. He's damn lucky that extraordinary stamina comes bundled along with super-senses, or he'd probably come every damn time he slips inside you. It'd be all over at the first thrust.

Fuck, he has to move. He pulls out, and you gasp and claw at the sheets, shuddering under him as he starts to fuck you again. Obscene wet, squelching sounds fill the room, along with the echoing slap of flesh on flesh as he fills you over and over and over. You’re so fucking wet, so fucking perfect. He grits his teeth, trying to get a handle on the feeling, but it’s overwhelming. 

Your hot, perfect little pussy clenches and flexes around his dick, and a blissful burn sears against his spine, streaking white and hot with pleasure. A tell-tale sign, warning him of what's to come if he doesn't stop. He sucks in a breath, trying to stave it off, barely hanging on to his control by the tips of his claws because he wants to feel you come around him one more time.

Because twice isn’t enough. Three times won’t be either. Nor would four, five, ten. Miguel’s greedy for you. Selfish. No matter how much you give him, it will never be enough. He will always want more of you.

More of your soft body pressed up against every inch of his. More of your eyes looking back at him, glazed over as if you have no coherent thoughts left in that pretty head of yours. He wants all of that and more. Another orgasm. Another fuck. Another kiss. One more breath. Just more, more, more.

He curls his hand around your throat, feels the chaotic race of your pulse under his fingertips.

"Come for me, nena," he demands, "I need it. Need to feel you." 

He tilts your face up, your back arched like a bow towards him. So fragile. So trusting, that you let him do this to you. 

He dips down to claim your lips, snapping his hips into yours faster now. Ramping up the pace as he chases his inevitable climax, forcing you to yours. 

You whimper and keen with each thrust, eyes rolling wildly. Your mouth hangs open, panting out sweet, stuttered moans that he swallows in a bruising kiss. Your whole body tenses under him, going rigid, then your pretty pussy starts clenching down around him as you come again.

This time, Miguel can't hold himself back. Doesn't even try. Lets himself succumb to the sight, the sounds, the smell, the feel of you surrounding him, coming for him. His stomach draws in tight, toes curling into the sheets, as he can feel his balls drawing up, cock swelling further as he manages a last few ragged thrusts. Then he’s tumbling over the edge with you, burying himself as deep as he can as the unforgiving bliss rises and spreads, blotting out everything else.

It's endless. Pulses after devastating pulse that won't stop. He comes and comes and comes, emptying himself inside of you until he's lightheaded, barely able to hold himself.

No amount of supernatural stamina can help him in this moment. Not when he can feel his spend filling you to capacity and more, so full that it starts leaking out of you, down the line of your thighs and onto his. His strength gives out, and he collapses into the bed, bringing you down with him.

The two of you lay there, trying to catch your breath. You’re trapped under his weight, your small back heaving under his larger chest, sweat slicking your skin to his. He has no desire to move. Shifts slightly to the side, a concession to your need to breathe, but refuses to go farther than that. He wants to keep you right here, covered and cocooned by his body. 

You tilt your head until you can peek over your shoulder at him. There's a look in your eyes, one that he has only ever seen on you. One just for him, filled with exasperated fondness, heat and loving familiarity. One he wouldn’t give up for anything.

"You're getting me new panties."

A warm huff of laughter escapes him. The bright warm glow in his chest spreads outwards, filling him with contentment.

"Sure, nena."

"And coffee in the morning," you add.

He hums in agreement because that's fair. You're going to be in zombie mode otherwise.

"And cupcakes for breakfast," you finish triumphantly.

Miguel turns his head to observe you, the way you're trying to hide that satisfied grin into the pillow to not betray how fucking over the moon you are right now after he's fucked you silly.

Smartass. Always pushing your damn luck. But it's not like he's going to ever say no to you is it?

He puts on a show of sighing loudly with mock exasperation. "From Gladis, yeah?”.

You nod into your pillow.

"Mmhmm."

He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, circling his arm around your waist, easily pulling you to his side.

The rain is still pouring down outside, but here in bed with your warm body pressed up against his side, the sound of it pitter-pattering against the window is almost soothing. He can feel his eyes slipping closed as it lulls him off to sleep. 

The rain isn’t so bad when you’re warm and safe in his arms. Nothing is, as long as you’re here with him. 

He’ll keep you safe. 

Always.

Credits and Dedications: I have to give so so so so much credit to my clown-in-crime @thirstworldproblemss poor woman doesn't even go here, and spent the whole of her evening writing porn to me in my DMs. 90% of the porny parts have been written by her. So for all those who enjoyed this, please go to her inbox and send her much deserved love!!!

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

[pucksandpower]

War Is Over

Lewis Hamilton x Rosberg!Reader

Summary: Lewis parks his car … right into his best friend-turned-nemesis’ little sister (and somehow reunites Brocedes in the process)

Warnings: descriptions of serious injury

Note: the fact that he not only won a race again but it was his home race … this calls for a Lewis Hamilton fic 🥹

The Monaco sun glints off sleek sports cars lining the streets as Lewis navigates his Mercedes through the winding roads. He’s running late for dinner with some sponsors and the traffic is only making things worse.

Lewis mutters under his breath, “Come on, come on. Just need to park this thing ...”

He spots an open space in front of the restaurant and starts to maneuver in, glancing at his watch. The ticking seconds only increase his frustration.

“Bloody hell, why is parking always such a nightmare here?”

Lewis throws the car into reverse, not bothering to look behind him. He’s done this a thousand times before. What could possibly go wrong?

The sickening thud comes a split second before he slams on the brakes. His heart leaps into his throat as he whips around, praying he just hit a trash bin or something.

But the crumpled form on the ground is undeniably human.

“Oh God, oh God, no ...” Lewis fumbles with his seatbelt, hands shaking as he bursts out of the car. “Please be okay, please be okay ...”

He drops to his knees beside the prone figure, a young woman with long hair obscuring her face. Blood is already pooling beneath her head.

“Miss? Can you hear me?” Lewis gently brushes the hair back, and his world stops.

It’s you. Nico’s little sister. The girl he’s known since she was in pigtails, cheering from the sidelines at their early karting races.

Lewis’ jaw drops open as the full horror of what he’s done sinks in. “Y/N? Oh God, Y/N, please wake up!”

He cradles your head, heedless of the blood staining his designer shirt. Your eyes remain closed, skin alarmingly pale.

“Someone call an ambulance!” Lewis shouts, his voice cracking with panic. “Please, somebody help!”

A crowd starts to gather, murmurs of shock and recognition rippling through them. Lewis barely notices, focused solely on your still form.

“Y/N, come on, open your eyes. Please, you have to be okay,” he pleads, gently patting your cheek. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you, I swear I didn’t mean to ...”

Your eyelids flutter, a soft groan escaping your lips. Lewis nearly sobs with relief.

“That’s it, that’s it. Can you hear me? It’s Lewis. You’re going to be alright.”

Your eyes open, unfocused and confused. “Lewis? What ... what happened?”

“Don’t try to move, okay? There was an accident. Help is on the way.”

You try to sit up, wincing in pain. “My head ...”

“Shh, just stay still. I’ve got you.” Lewis supports your shoulders, keeping you from moving too much.

“Did ... did you hit me with your car?” Your voice is small, disbelieving.

Lewis swallows hard. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t see you, I swear. God, Y/N, I would never ...”

You manage a weak smile. “Always knew you’d be the death of me, Hamilton.”

Despite everything, Lewis can’t help but chuckle. “Don’t joke about that. You scared me half to death.”

“Sorry to ruin your evening,” you mumble, eyes starting to drift closed again.

“Hey, hey, stay with me.” Lewis gently taps your cheek. “Keep those eyes open, okay? Talk to me.”

You force your eyes open. “About what?”

“Anything. Tell me ... tell me what you’re doing in Monaco. Are you visiting Nico?”

You shake your head slightly, then wince. “No, I ... I moved here. Got a job at the yacht club.”

“Really? That’s great. When did that happen?”

“Few months ago. Needed ... needed a change of scenery.”

Lewis nods, desperately trying to keep you engaged. “I get that. Monaco’s beautiful. Although the parking situation leaves something to be desired,” he adds wryly.

You manage a weak laugh, then grimace. “Ow. Don’t make me laugh.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Lewis glances around anxiously. “Where’s that damn ambulance?”

As if on cue, sirens wail in the distance. Lewis breathes a sigh of relief.

“Help’s coming, Y/N. Just hang on a little longer, okay?”

You nod slightly, eyes becoming unfocused again. “Lewis?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tell Nico.”

Lewis’ heart clenches. “Y/N ...”

“Please. He’ll kill you. And then me. For being stupid enough to walk behind a car without looking.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Lewis insists. “I should have checked my mirrors. I was distracted, rushing ...”

You shake your head stubbornly. “Promise me. Don’t tell him.”

Lewis hesitates. “Y/N, I can’t just ...”

“Promise,” you repeat, gripping his arm with surprising strength.

Lewis sighs. “Okay, okay. I promise. But he’s going to find out eventually.”

“Let me handle it. When I’m not ... you know. Bleeding on the pavement.”

The ambulance pulls up, paramedics jumping out. Lewis reluctantly moves aside to let them work, hovering anxiously.

“Sir, can you tell us what happened?” One of the paramedics asks as they begin assessing your injuries.

Lewis runs a hand through his hair. “I ... I hit her with my car. I was backing up and didn’t see her. It was an accident, I swear.”

The paramedic nods, focused on taking your vitals. “Miss, can you tell me your name?”

“Y/N Rosberg,” you mumble.

The paramedic’s eyes widen slightly in recognition, but he remains professional. “Alright, Y/N. We’re going to get you to the hospital. Just try to stay still for me.”

As they prepare to move you onto a stretcher, Lewis steps forward. “Can I ride with her?”

The paramedic hesitates. “Are you family?”

“No, but I’m ... I’m responsible for this. Please, I need to make sure she’s okay.”

You reach out weakly, grasping Lewis’ hand. “Let him come. He’s ... he’s family.”

The paramedic nods. “Alright, but stay out of the way.”

As they load you into the ambulance, Lewis climbs in beside you, still holding your hand. The doors slam shut and the sirens wail as they speed towards the hospital.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Lewis says softly.

You give his hand a weak squeeze. “Couldn’t let you ... sulk all night. You’d probably ... crash into a street lamp next.”

Lewis chuckles despite himself. “There’s that Rosberg wit. You sound just like your brother sometimes.”

You grimace. “Don’t insult me when I’m down, Hamilton.”

The banter feels surreal given the circumstances, but Lewis is grateful for it. It keeps the crushing guilt at bay, if only for a moment.

“Y/N, I ...” he starts, then falters. “I don’t even know how to begin to apologize.”

You shake your head slightly. “Later. When everything ... stops spinning.”

Lewis nods, throat tight. He watches the paramedics work, feeling utterly helpless.

“Tell me something,” you murmur after a moment.

“What?”

“Anything. Distract me.”

Lewis thinks for a moment. “Did I ever tell you about the time Nico and I got lost in Ibiza?”

You manage a small smile. “No. Spill.”

As Lewis launches into the story, embellishing for comedic effect, he can’t help but marvel at your resilience. Here you are, cracking jokes and asking for stories while bleeding from a head wound he caused.

The guilt threatens to overwhelm him again, but he pushes it aside. Right now, keeping you conscious and calm is what matters. There will be time for apologies and recriminations later.

As the ambulance weaves through Monaco’s narrow streets, Lewis silently vows to make this right, whatever it takes. He may have destroyed his friendship with Nico, but he won’t let you pay the price for their rivalry.

The hospital looms ahead, and Lewis squeezes your hand. “We’re almost there, Y/N. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

You meet his eyes, a flicker of something — trust? forgiveness? — passing between you. “I know,” you whisper. “I’ve got my guardian angel, after all. Even if he is a bit rubbish at parking.”

Lewis laughs, the sound catching in his throat. As they wheel you into the emergency room, he realizes with startling clarity that nothing will ever be the same after tonight.

But looking at your brave smile as the doctors surround you, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, that might not be such a bad thing.

***

The steady beep of the heart monitor fills the hushed hospital room. Lewis sits hunched in an uncomfortable chair beside your bed, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form. The stark white bandage wrapped around your head is a constant reminder of his guilt.

A nurse pops her head in. “Mr. Hamilton? There’s someone here to see-”

She’s cut off as Nico barges past her, his face a mask of fury. “You son of a bitch.“

Nico’s fist is already swinging towards Lewis’ face when a doctor in a white coat steps between them. “Gentlemen! This is a hospital, not a boxing ring!”

Nico’s momentum carries him forward, nearly stumbling into the doctor. He catches himself, chest heaving as he glares daggers at Lewis.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Nico snarls.

Lewis stands, hands raised placatingly. “Nico, I can explain-”

“Explain? Explain how you nearly killed my sister?” Nico’s voice rises, causing you to stir in the bed.

The doctor clears his throat. “Mr. Rosberg, I presume? I’m Dr. Moreau. Perhaps we should step outside to discuss your sister’s condition.”

Nico hesitates, clearly torn between getting information and pummeling Lewis. Finally, he nods curtly. “Fine. But this isn’t over, Hamilton.”

As they step into the hallway, Lewis sinks back into his chair, running a hand over his face. He glances at you, relieved to see you’ve settled back into sleep.

In the corridor, Dr. Moreau speaks in low, measured tones. “Mr. Rosberg, your sister suffered a severe concussion and a fractured skull. There was some internal bleeding, but we’ve managed to stabilize that.”

Nico’s knees go weak, and he leans against the wall for support. “Oh God ...”

“She also has three broken ribs, a fractured wrist, and various cuts and bruises,” the doctor continues. “Frankly, it’s a miracle she wasn’t more seriously injured. The impact could easily have been fatal.”

Nico slides down the wall, sitting heavily on the floor. “She ... she almost died?”

Dr. Moreau nods gravely. “It was touch and go for a while. But she’s young and strong. With time and proper care, we expect her to make a full recovery.”

Nico buries his face in his hands, shoulders shaking. After a moment, he looks up, eyes red-rimmed. “Can I see her?”

“Of course. But please, try to stay calm. She needs rest.”

Nico nods, pulling himself to his feet. He takes a deep breath before re-entering the room.

Lewis stands as Nico approaches the bed. “Nico, I-”

“Save it,” Nico snaps, but there’s less venom in his voice now. He gently takes your hand, his thumb tracing circles on your palm.

Your eyes flutter open. “Nico?” You mumble groggily.

“Hey, little sis,” Nico says softly, managing a weak smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a car,” you deadpan.

Lewis winces, but Nico actually chuckles. “Well, your sense of humor is intact, at least.”

You try to sit up, grimacing in pain. Lewis and Nico both move to help, then freeze, glaring at each other.

You roll your eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Both of you, help me up. And then explain why you look ready to kill each other. Again.”

With their combined efforts, they manage to prop you up against the pillows. You look expectantly between them.

Nico breaks first. “How can you even ask that? He nearly killed you!”

“It was an accident,” you insist.

“An accident?” Nico scoffs. “He hit you with his car!”

“Which I’m pretty sure he didn’t do on purpose,” you retort. “Right, Lewis?”

Lewis nods emphatically. “God, no. Y/N, I swear, I never saw you. I was distracted, rushing ... but I would never intentionally hurt you. You have to believe that.”

Nico’s jaw clenches. “Maybe not intentionally. But your carelessness nearly cost my sister her life. How am I supposed to forgive that?”

“You don’t have to forgive me,” Lewis says quietly. “I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself. But Y/N is the one who was hurt. Shouldn’t it be her choice?”

You nod, wincing at the movement. “Exactly. And I choose to forgive you, Lewis. It was an accident. A stupid, awful accident, but still an accident.”

Nico shakes his head in disbelief. “Y/N, you can’t be serious. You’re lying in a hospital bed because of him!”

“And he’s been by my side ever since,” you counter. “He rode in the ambulance with me, held my hand through all the tests and scans. He’s barely left this room in hours.”

Lewis looks down, uncomfortable with the praise. “It was the least I could do.”

Nico runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “That doesn’t change what happened.”

“No, it doesn’t,” you agree. “But it shows he cares. That he’s taking responsibility.”

“I’ll pay for all her medical expenses,” Lewis adds quickly. “And anything else she needs for her recovery. It’s the least I can do.”

Nico snorts. “You think you can just throw money at this and make it go away?”

“No!” Lewis insists. “I know nothing can undo what happened. But I want to help however I can.”

You reach out, grabbing both their hands. “Listen to me, both of you. I’m tired, I’m in pain, and I don’t have the energy for your macho posturing right now.”

They both have the grace to look ashamed.

“Nico, I love you, but you need to calm down,” you continue. “Lewis made a mistake, a big one. But he’s trying to make amends. And frankly, I need both of you right now. I can’t deal with you at each other’s throats on top of everything else.”

Nico’s expression softens. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just ... when I got that call, saying you were in the hospital ... I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

You squeeze his hand. “I know. But I’m okay. Or I will be. And having you two fighting isn’t going to help me get better any faster.”

Lewis clears his throat. “She’s right. Nico, I know you have every right to hate me right now. But can we please call a truce? For Y/N’s sake?”

Nico hesitates, clearly torn. Finally, he nods stiffly. “Fine. A truce. But only for Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you sigh, relaxing back against the pillows. “Now, can one of you please get me some water? And maybe sneak in some real food? I’m starving and the hospital jello isn’t cutting it.”

Lewis jumps up. “I’ll go. Nico, you stay with her. I’ll be right back.”

As Lewis hurries out, Nico settles into the chair beside your bed. “You sure you’re okay, little sis?”

You manage a small smile. “I’ve been better. But I’ve also been worse.”

Nico raises an eyebrow. “When have you been worse than having a cracked skull and broken ribs?”

“Remember when I was eight and fell out of that tree in the backyard?”

Nico chuckles. “God, I thought Mama was going to have a heart attack. You were so stubborn, insisting you could climb higher than me.”

“Still can,” you tease.

“Maybe hold off on the tree climbing for a while, yeah?”

You pretend to pout. “Spoilsport.”

The banter feels good, normal. For a moment, you can almost forget you’re in a hospital bed.

Nico’s expression turns serious. “Y/N, are you really okay with forgiving Lewis so easily? You don’t have to, you know. Not for my sake or anyone else’s.”

You sigh. “I know. And believe me, I’m not thrilled about the whole getting hit by a car thing. But Nico, you should have seen his face when he realized it was me. He was devastated.”

“He should be,” Nico grumbles.

“I’m not saying there won’t be consequences,” you continue. “But I don’t believe for a second he meant to hurt me. And holding onto anger isn’t going to help me heal any faster.”

Nico studies your face for a long moment. “When did you get so wise, little sister?”

You grin. “I’ve always been the smart one in the family. You were just too busy crashing karts to notice.”

Nico laughs, then sobers. “I was so scared, Y/N. When they called and said you were in the hospital ... all I could think was that I couldn’t lose you.”

You squeeze his hand. “Hey, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. It’ll take more than Lewis Hamilton’s terrible parking skills to take out a Rosberg.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Nico says, but he’s smiling.

Lewis returns then, arms laden with bags. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I got a bit of everything. Sandwiches, fruit, some pasta salad ... oh, and chocolate. Lots of chocolate.”

You beam at him. “My hero.”

Nico rolls his eyes, but there’s less hostility in it now. “Is this really the time for sweets?”

Lewis grins sheepishly. “Hey, chocolate has healing properties. I read that somewhere.”

“Sounds like solid medical advice to me,” you chime in, already reaching for a candy bar.

As Lewis unpacks the food, a tentative peace settles over the room. It’s fragile, built on shared concern for you rather than any real reconciliation between the two men. But it’s a start.

You watch them, noting how they unconsciously mirror each other’s movements as they fuss over arranging the food on your tray. For all their differences, for all the bad blood between them, there’s still an underlying connection there. Years of friendship and rivalry can’t be erased so easily.

“You know,” you say around a mouthful of sandwich, “this whole arch-enemies thing you two have going on is getting a bit old.”

They both look at you, startled.

“I mean, come on,” you continue. “You were best friends for years. You’ve known each other longer than most marriages last. Is it really worth throwing all that away over some stupid trophies?”

Nico frowns. “Y/N, it’s more complicated than that-”

“Is it, though?” You interrupt. “Because from where I’m sitting — or laying, I guess — it seems pretty simple. You both love racing. You’re both insanely competitive. And yeah, sometimes that caused friction. But at the end of the day, who else understands what you have been through better than each other?”

Lewis and Nico exchange uncomfortable glances.

“I’m not saying you have to be best buddies again,” you add. “But maybe ... I don’t know. Maybe you could try not actively hating each other? For my sake, if nothing else. I’m going to need both of you while I recover and I really don’t want to deal with World War III breaking out in my hospital room.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Finally, Lewis speaks up.

“She’s right,” he says quietly. “Nico, I know things have been ... difficult between us. And I know this situation hasn’t helped. But Y/N’s important to both of us. Can we at least try to be civil? For her?”

Nico hesitates, then nods slowly. “I suppose we can try. But Lewis, I swear, if anything like this ever happens again-”

“It won’t,” Lewis says firmly. “I promise you, Nico. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

You beam at them both. “See? Was that so hard? Now, who’s going to help me eat all this food? Doctor’s orders, you know. Got to keep my strength up.”

As they both reach for the tray, playfully battling over who gets to hand you what, you can’t help but smile. It’s not perfect, not by a long shot. But it’s a beginning.

And really, you think as you watch the two most important men in your life grudgingly share a bag of crisps, sometimes beginnings are the best part of any story.

***

f1-fanatic-2024

[Image: Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg exiting a hospital, walking side by side]

OMG IS THIS REAL??? Brocedes spotted together??? What year is it???

#what is happening #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes

---

brocedes-no1-stan

[reblogging f1-fanatic-2024’s post]

I’m sorry, but are we just going to ignore the fact that they’re leaving a HOSPITAL??? Is everyone okay???

#concerned #hope everyone’s alright #but also lowkey excited

---

vintage-f1-vibes

Okay but why does this feel like a glitch in the matrix? Haven’t seen these two willingly in the same frame since like 2016 😭

#blast from the past #what year is it #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

racing-queen-93

[reblogging f1-fanatic-2024’s post]

BROCEDES RISE!!! 🙌🙌🙌

My 2014 heart is SOARING right now. Never thought I’d see the day. BRB, gonna go cry in a corner.

#i’m not crying you’re crying #brocedes #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #f1

---

silverarrows4ever

[Image set: Multiple angles of Lewis and Nico leaving the hospital, including one where they appear to be mid-conversation]

New Brocedes content in 2024? Maybe miracles do happen 😭

But seriously, hope everything’s okay. Weird to see them at a hospital.

#concerned but hopeful #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #f1 #brocedes

---

formula1-history-nerd

[reblogging silverarrows4ever’s post]

Okay, but can we talk about how neither of them has aged a day??? What kind of vampire magic-

#aging like fine wine #drop the skincare routine boys #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

racingdaydreams

Me: I’m over Brocedes, that ship has sailed

Also me seeing these pics: 🥺👉👈

#i’m weak okay #f1 #brocedes #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

fastcarsgovroomvroom

[reblogging f1-fanatic-2024’s post]

Everyone freaking out about Brocedes and I’m just wondering why they’re at a hospital??? Hope everyone’s okay!

#f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

f1-drama-central

BREAKING: Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg spotted leaving Princess Grace Hospital together. Sources say they arrived separately but left at the same time, engaging in what appeared to be civil conversation. More updates as the story develops!

#breaking news #what’s the tea #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

retro-racing-vibes

[reblogging f1-drama-central’s post]

2014 me is SCREAMING right now. 2024 me is cautiously optimistic but also kind of worried because ... hospital?

#conflicted feelings #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes

---

formulaonefanatic

[Image: Close-up of Lewis and Nico talking, both with serious expressions]

Whatever brought them together, it looks serious. Hoping everyone’s okay. But also ... is it wrong that I’m a little excited to see them talking again?

#concerned but intrigued #brocedes #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

***

f1-gossip-central

[Image set: Lewis, Nico, and Y/N on Lewis’ yacht. Another photo of Lewis kissing Y/N with Nico cringing in the background]

WHAT IS HAPPENING??? Lewis and Nico on the same boat??? Lewis kissing Nico’s sister??? I need answers!!!

#what timeline is this #i’m shook #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

brocedes-ride-or-die

[reblogging f1-gossip-central’s post]

EXCUSE ME??? Lewis and Y/N??? When did this happen??? How did I miss this??? 😱😱😱

#new ship alert #what is happening #f1 #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg

---

vintage-f1-drama

Okay but Nico’s face in that last pic is sending me 💀💀💀 Big protective brother energy

#siblings be like #f1 #nico rosberg #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg

---

formulaoneobsessed

[Image: Close-up of Lewis kissing Y/N]

New F1 power couple alert? 👀 But also, how is Nico okay with this?

#f1 #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg #nico rosberg

---

racingheartstrings

[reblogging formulaoneobsessed’s post]

I can’t decide if this is the best or worst plot twist of the 2024 season 😂

Either way, I’m here for the drama!

#pass the popcorn #f1 #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg #nico rosberg

---

silverarrowsforever

[Image set: Lewis and Nico chatting on the yacht, looking relaxed]

Can we talk about how this is the most relaxed we’ve seen these two together in YEARS??? Whatever’s happening, it seems to be healing old wounds and I’m here for it 🙌

#f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes

---

f1-fanfiction-addict

Me: furiously rewriting all my Brocedes fics to include Y/N

The plot twist we never saw coming 😅

#f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg #fanfiction problems

---

speed-queen-101

[reblogging f1-gossip-central’s post]

Y’all are focused on the Lewis and Y/N kiss but can we appreciate how GOOD everyone looks??? That Monaco sun is doing wonders 😍

#glow up #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

formula1-history-buff

Imagine telling someone in 2016 that in 2024, Lewis would be dating Nico’s sister and they’d all be hanging out on Lewis’ yacht. They’d think you were crazy!

#how times change #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

racingdaydreams

[Image: Nico’s cringing face as Lewis kisses Y/N]

Tag yourself, I’m Nico 😂

#third wheel vibes #f1 #nico rosberg #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg

---

fastcarsgovroomvroom

[reblogging racingdaydreams’ post]

Petition for a reality show following this trio because I would watch the HECK out of that

#make it happen netflix #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

f1-drama-queen

THEORY TIME: What if the hospital visit from last week was for Y/N??? And that’s what brought Lewis and Nico back together??? 🤔

#conspiracy theory #but makes sense #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

brocedes-forever

[Image set: Lewis and Nico laughing together on the yacht]

My Brocedes heart is THRIVING right now. Yeah, the Lewis and Y/N thing is cute, but look at these two 😭❤️

#f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes #friendship goals

[mournthebird]

Domestic Winter Soldier / Soldat Stuff

warnings: PTSD | Slight self-harm | Mentions past abuse

a/n: Idk I wanted to write this because he deserves some love even when he's the soldier. Various hcs about domestic life with the Winter Soldier. Actual fics in the works. I run four blogs so I try to balance it all. Not edited ignore mistakes.

Soldat is a little awkward with home life at first. He isn't sure what to do, being free from constant control isn't something he can easily adjust to.

He looks to you for commands all the time. Can he sit? Can he go to the bathroom? Can he sleep? Can he eat? Every little thing he does. You have to reassure him that he doesn't need to ask permission for anything, but he still does.

He sometimes gets snappy at you, since he still can't decide whether or not to trust you 100% or not. He can't understand why someone is being so nice to him.

Sometimes he accidentally breaks something and he flinches away from you, or he hides out of fear. You have to coax him out, telling him it's okay and that you're not going to hurt him. He always hesitates.

He struggles to sleep so he comes into your room most nights and stares at you or roughly shakes you to wake you up. "Can't sleep." he speaks lowly, and he grunts and climbs over you into your bed, never waiting for a response. At first he sleeps away from the door, but as time goes on he moves to sleep closest to the door in case any unlucky person breaks into your apartment.

Very much like a cat, he stays back but when he wants attention he sort of just...flops near you and demands it by laying on you somehow, or sitting super close so your bodies are touching.

He watches you cook a lot. He sits down at the counter and watches or he stands over you and watches. Sometimes you have to pull him away from the stove because the oil will burn him and he doesn't bother moving away on his own.

He's much more curious than you'd think. He watches you do a lot of things, almost as if he's never seen anything like it. Something as simple as brushing your hair or doing laundry, he's mesmerized by it.

When he's not watching you do something, you notice that he just stares a lot. He always watches you, at first out of uneasiness, but then...just because. He's always watching you, almost like he's worried you'll disappear.

You help him shower, he doesn't like touching his scars. He tries to rub them away, and he's tries to claw his metal arm off. So you help him clean to prevent him from going into one of those episodes of hurting himself in that way.

He used to get aggressive when you came around him when he was naked, treating you like some big threat, but you realized this was something more than just fear. It took a lot for him to get comfortable enough to allow you to touch him in the shower/bath.

For being so heavily trained as the best assassin, he's quite accident prone. Nothing major, but enough to warrant some kind of care. He feels a little confused whenever he gets hurt by accident, like he never expected the corner of the table to leave a small cut on his flesh arm. He focuses too much on things he knows hurt, that other things go unnoticed.

He learns to cook with you some days, he was tired of just watching. It's a good way to show him you trust him too, letting him handle things like knives or sharp objects without worrying he will hurt you.

You learn he really likes pie. Apple pie especially.

You also learn the alarm on the oven is too loud for him so you use your phone instead.

If you bring him out with you, he's very protective. His head is on a swivel, constantly observing everyone around you. He stays glued to your side, not letting you take many steps away from him.

Gets overstimulated easily.

Sounds that are similar to a blender or electricity freak him out. A bug zapper is also a sound he hates.

Some foods he looks at with newfound curiosity, like he hadn't seen them before. There are things he doesn't even recognize, newer or modernized things, he didn't know what to think. What the hell is an air fryer? How do you fry with air??

Get one and watch how he looks at it with amazement and confusion.

He seeks out spaces where he can be alone a lot, he needs space sometimes and you understand.

During bad episodes he sometimes disappears from your apartment, making you panic a little each time. You find him in alleys or the streets from time to time, he never wanders too far. You are worried sick but your priority is to get him back home.

It's hard for him to show it, but he does appreciate you and everything you've done for him. He gives you hugs from behind a lot, sometimes he whispers a word to you, but mostly he's silent.

He likes puzzles. He likes putting them together. Maybe because he himself feels like there are so many pieces of himself missing and it's satisfying to fill a picture.

One thing that calms him down are fresh cookies. Chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven, he can go from high strung to calm and docile.

He hates porridge and/or oatmeal. It's too similar to the things he was forced to eat in HYDRA. Tasteless slop, he can't stand the texture.

He loves when you brush his hair. His scalp is sensitive since he had his hair yanked and pulled so much, but you're always gentle. He loves feeling your fingers run through it and it puts him to sleep within minutes.

You're the only one who can touch his scars. Not that he is close to anyone else, but he doesn't fight you when your hand roams over where metal meets flesh.

Watches over you when you sleep a lot, his eyes glued to the door and his ears alert to every single sound. He stays up until he literally can't keep his eyes open.

He's very attached to you and never wants to leave you, ever.

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

[robynlilyblack]

You're the prettiest thing here you know

Remus lupin x fem! Slytherin! reader

Summary: Remus remembers his first kiss with his future wife

Warnings/tags: swearing, mentions of injury, death, self-doubt, blood supremacy and all things to do with Remus’ furry little problem, first kiss, getting together, established relationship, reader and Remus they are late 20s in present sections and 17/18 in flashback, clumsy! sunshine! reader, grump! Remus, majority of the fic is the flashback!

A/n: 4.6k words, kinda love the idea of Remus having the most accident-prone wife, thank you for the request, enjoy and happy valentines day lovelies ♡

Navigation | Remus Lupin Masterlist

“Motherfu…” you yelp, sucking a breath as you curse 

Remus looks up “You good love?” he asks casually at first but then winces at the sound of your groans, watching as you gently fall back onto the cold ground, clutching your ankle “One minute love…old wolf needs a second” he jests, shifting his weight as he pulls himself up

It takes him longer than he would like to get to you, his knees where achy at the best of times, but combine that with the early year chill and it turned him into even more of an old man than he felt already

When he finally does get there, he bends down at the hip, hand moving some of your hair back before he cups your cheek “Got yourself good this time huh?” he coos

Your eyes find his, a sad pout on your face as you feel sorry for yourself “Yeah” you nod with a slight chuckle before your head falls back down

Remus’ eyes follow yours, finding you rubbing your ankle through your socks…well they were actually his socks, and if you weren’t in pain he would tease you as he had been looking for said socks all morning

So much for not knowing where they are little minx

He kneels down then, hands falling to the site of your injury “What happened?” he inquires, holding back his smile as your lean into his touch, giving him the softest, sweetest headbutt to his shoulder

“Lost a fight with a shovel” you explain, hands wrapping around his own as you let out a prolonged breath “You can laugh now, the pains stopped” you tell him, eyes flicking up to meet his own

With that Remus let’s himself break, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. You had always been this clumsy, in fact that’s how you and he first met, infirmary buddies so to speak, him with his chronic wolfy transformations and you with some random yet slightly hilarious new injury.

“Why don’t you help me with these, the grounds still a bit firm for building a new bed anyway” he tells you, but not before kissing the tips of his fingers not engulf by gloves and placing it on your ankle “Better?”

 “Like new” you grin up at him

As he stands upright, he finds you smiling at him, head tilted, the little bobble of your hat cutely hanging to one side, one of his winter jackets wrapped around you, along with two very different and not at all matching scarfs that somehow you pull off

“What are you staring at?” he eyes you

“I can’t admire?” you defend, shrugging as slowly pull yourself up

Remus turns his head a little, smiling as the cold hides his tinting cheeks. After all these years a bit of him is still in disbelief, how did someone like him get so lucky?

“You can but I don’t think we’ll finish today if you do” he tells you once you have dusted yourself off, facing him once more “Are you going to be good pretty girl?” he raises his eyebrows

You smile coyly, yet Remus sees the shyness you try oh so hard to hide under his own gaze “Never” you challenge, before stepping past him, taking his hand and leading him back towards the flower bed he was working on before

After a bit of work Remus’ movements come to a halt as he looks over to find you towelling away, you don’t notice his stare as you take a break yourself, gazing out over the field beyond the borders of yours and his cottage as the sun breaks free from the clouds. That smile he fell in love with painted on your face as your eyes flutter shut, a content sigh leaving your lips as you soak up the rays

She is so beautiful

It’s then a wave of nostalgia washes over him, maybe it’s the view, or the way the sun hits yours face just as the stars and moon did back then, but he can’t help recalling the night he would live again and again forever…

Start of flashback

“Come on Rem!” you say childishly, pulling Remus through the overgrowth, wand lighting the way

He huffs in faux annoyance, he had no idea why you felt the need to drag him through the enchanted forest at this hour, nor how you could have this much energy after a full day of classes and prefect rounds, but he really didn’t mind, not when it meant he got to spend more time with you

“So…” he leans to the side as you ascend a gentle incline, attempting to catch glimpse of your face “…why am I being gifted with a hike at 2am on a Tuesday?” he wonders, attempting to supress his smile as he can just about make out your excited one “Not that I’m not grateful for the exercise…or the cold…or the mud” he complains just a little

“Because mr grumps, you’re my friend and there is something I want to show you” you turn back flashing him an even bigger smile than you’re resting one “Besides you were awake anyway” you needlessly defend your impromptu trip further as you turn back

His heart both warms and aches at friend, since he met you, he knew a part of him wanted something more, but the other part knew it was for the best, even after you figured out his condition, you deserved someone better. Besides, as much as you and he broke the Gryffindor and Slytherin stereotype, him being in your own words ‘mr grumps’ and you in his words being little ‘miss sunshine’, the rest of the school wouldn’t be as happy…let alone his friends

He lets out a small chuckle “Then as my friend you should know that I was in the middle of my routine…I still had a good hour of self-doubt and deprecation to get in before my four hours” he jokes, though it’s not really one…in fact if he’s perfectly honest it’s more like three some nights

“Well instead of that totally heathy routine” you nip back, and he rolls his eyes with the slightest smirk on his face “You get to spend it with me and see something wonderful!”

You sounded so excited. That light in your eyes that made even Remus’ darkest days’ worth living through was shining as bright as ever, and he couldn’t help but get excited too

“Okay…” you stop just a willow tree, similar to the one he was all too familiar with but far less magical…and big…and deadly “…you ready?” you turn towards him, struggling to contain yourself

He nods, eyeing you as you put away your wand, engulfing you both in darkness “Wha…” he starts but then his eyes adjust, and he notices the unworldly glow from the other side of the hanging vines 

“I’ll go first, then you follow, okay?” you tell him, and he finds himself nodding wordlessly

Remus watches you slide through the vines, the soft embers of light worming through before they settle once more. He takes a small breath before he follows, pushing his hand through first to create a path for himself, it’s a little thicker than he thought it would be but soon he finds the other side, breath hitching as he takes in the view

Before him was a hidden garden, a small clearing within the forest filled with flowers, their petals shimmering beneath the star light. The area was surrounded by more willows, but inside the garden their hanging leaves bloomed with glowing berries emitting a warm orange hue. As he steps deeper, he finds the left side of the field stops abruptly, revealing a cliffside to the coastline of black lake

“Wow” he breathes out, a genuine smile gracing his face for the first time in months

You were right earlier, though he dares say you undersold just how wonderful your surprise was, and he almost doesn’t feel worthy of it, in fact, he knows he’s unworthy of it

“You like it?” 

His head softly turns towards your voice, finding you, hands clasped around the strap of your bag, lip pulled under your teeth as you await his answer, it’s then he realises why you went first, you wanted to see his reaction

“Like it?” he chuckles slightly “I love it” he confesses, unable to hold up his barriers at your hopeful eyes, even more at your proud little smile at his confession

“The view from the cliff is even better” you hold out hand

He takes it, but just as he is about to step into the moonlight, he stops, causing you to turn back and ask if he’s alright, but your words are lost on him as he pears up, catching glimpse of the waning moon

“I’m sorry” his eyes finally find you again and his heart breaks at your concern, cheeks flooding with embarrassment over how he’s going to ruin a perfect night with his fears “I’m good here, I’m sure it’s lovely but…” he takes a breath, unable to get out the rest

“But?” you wonder sweetly, taking a step towards him “It’s a beautiful night, I don’t want you to mess the best part…oh” you’re eyes light up and he worries you’ve figured it out “Are you scared of heights? I can shift and you can hold me to calm you down if that would help?” you offer, and it kills him

You were too sweet for your own good, not only had you chosen him to show this wonderful place, but you were willing to accommodate his fears without judgement. The mention of your animagus made his heart hurt more, you really had done everything to help him, and maybe it was that that allowed him to confess the real reason

His hand cups over yours, thumb stealing circles over your knuckles “Love…” he finds your eyes “…I’m…I’m not afraid of heights I just…it’s a clear night and well…” he looks down, swallowing hard “…the moon is out” he whispers and he’s too ashamed to look back up, instead he savours your hand in his scarred ones and the way they engulf your own

“Rem” your voice is so soft he could cry, he doesn’t want to be pitied, so much he finches as your other hand finds his cheek, encouraging him to look at you, but when he doesn’t, you continue “If you want to leave we can, or we can sit at the edge at the trees” you tell him sweetly “You aren’t going to shift here” you continue before a giggle escapes your lips as you add “besides…if you did I’d just push you off”

His head snaps up at that, staring at your cheeky grin in disbelief, processing before letting out scoff of a laugh “I can’t believe you just said that” he shakes his head, beginning to chuckle properly 

“It made you laugh though” you smile at him, and he finds himself relishing the closeness, the softness of your fingers on his rougher cheek and hands

“That you did” he agrees, hoping you don’t notice him leaning ever so slightly into your touch

He hides his disappointment however as your kind touch leaves his cheek, but his disappointment doesn’t last long as you take his other hand in your own, guiding him “I’ll be right here” you assure him, your movements gentle as you take a step back, letting him know he can leave if that’s what he truly wanted

Remus won’t lie, he’s still nervous but the safety he feels around you is stronger than his fear, and he lets you lead him towards the cliffside

Looking out over the night sky his eyes soon lock on to the moon, but as they do he feels your hand squeeze his “You’re okay” you tell him, and he actually believes it “You’re more than that big hunk of rock…come on let’s sit” you softly pull him as you lower yourself to the ground, and as you do, Remus waits until the very last second to let go of your hand

“Thank you” he finally says after you both are comfortable “What would I do without you?” he doesn’t ever want to know the answer, so he’s glad you answer when it with a joke

“Wallow in self-pity?” you jest “Maybe die of a heart attack with how much chocolate you consume?” you laugh

Despite his own chuckles he playfully nudges you “Funny bunny” he shakes his head, returning his gaze to the limitless expanse of stars, then down towards the shoreline, enjoying the simple beauty of waves washing across sand

“Can you see them?” you ask after a moment

His eyebrows furrow, looking at you then more intently at the beach “See what?” he wonders, confused

Just as he’s about to turn back towards you he feels you shuffle closer to him, pointing “Look closely at the wet sand, just before the waves come in…do you see it?” you ask, your head practically on his shoulder by this point

Remus’ confusion melts into intrigue as he watches the area you point out, eyes widening when he finally sees it, the slight indentations across the beach, not unlike the kind he and his friends make when they use James’ cloak in snow, yet these tracks much more resembled an animal

“What are they?” he turns to you, desperately holding back his blush at how close your face is to his

Merlin, he felt like a lovesick puppy, until now he had been able to keep his growing feelings at bay but now even your crossed leg gentle tapping against his own was enough to send his heart into a tizzy

You don’t seem fazed however as you just smile “Thestrals” you say simply “The magical creatures that pull the carriages” you add to jog his memory

“Really” he looks to the beach “That’s amazing” he says, smiling as he spots a smaller set following larger set before he recalls one particular fact about the invisible creatures “You can see them?” his heart drops a little…more so at your confirmation

“Yes” but your expression doesn’t change “You’re allowed to ask” you grant him a soft smile

He takes a moment after that though, despite your permission he still feels like he’s invading your privacy by asking “Who?” 

You look away then, off towards the shore “A few years ago, my father was sick. He’s alright now, but there was a time my mother and I practically lived in the hospital” you start and while you speak your eyes track something on the shore, he assumes a thestral but doesn’t tear his eyes away to check “There was a kind lady in the room next door, Dorothy. She used to share the sweet treats her sons would bring her with me…she was a muggleborn you see, I lied to my mother about that part though” you chuckle softly “She taught me how to knit properly, with needles and not magic…if I’m being honest I think she’s one of the main reasons I stopped believing in all that crap” you confess, your voice wavering a little as you look down at the ground

Remus’ eyes widen, sure, he hadn’t really spoken to you until the end of fifth year, but given your soft nature he never would have thought for a minute you could have ever believed in such things…you were too good for that

“Do you think less of me?” you reply to his silence, shame in your tone as you chew on your lip, pulling at blades of grass

As your eyes flick up meet his he shakes his head “No…if anything I think more of you” he gifts you a soft smile before reaching out to save the poor meadow from your anxiety riddled trimming, hand lingering on yours for a moment before he pulls back “It takes a strong person to admit something like that”

“I don’t know about strong…couldn’t save that bookcase last week” you giggle breathlessly, but behind it there’s a flash of something that shows your appreciation to his sentiment, much like Remus you also struggled to accept compliments or credit where it’s due…you were just maybe a little less grumpy about it

“You tried your best” he tells you with a chuckle…recalling how utterly bewildered you looked amidst the chaos of the chain reaction you had created while attempting to get one book before his expression drops once more “Do you want to continue? I’d like to hear more” he steers the conversation back gently and you seem thankful for it

“While my father was getting better, she wasn’t” you resume, voice dipping “Eventually she got so weak I had to finish the blanket she was making for the grandchild she never got the honour of meeting…” you sigh while you play with your fingerless gloves “…she made me these you know?” you look back up, lifting you hand slightly to show off them off

“I’m jealous” Remus holds up his own, showcasing his more than beaten gloves, hells they were practically falling apart

You giggle softly “I’ll make you some” it’s not an offer but a statement, one Remus has no intention of fighting, who was he to deny a gift from yourself “Any particular colour you would like?” you add

He thinks about it before his eyes fall on your gloves, their colour similar to the evergreen of the willows around you “Would you be mad if they matched yours” he asks cautiously, afraid of over stepping 

But your smile confirms he isn’t, if anything, he swears you shy away just a little at it, almost as if you’re flustered at the thought

“Not at all” you reply, voice softer than it’s ever been “I think she would have liked you. She certainly would have knitted you a matching jumper” 

“Maybe you could knit me one instead” he says before his brain can even process the words

That was way too…

“Sure!” you reply right away, elated at the idea “Your birthdays in March, right? The 10th?” you confirm, and Remus can only nod in return “I’ll surprise you with the colour for that one” you tell him

Remus’ lips quirk up, excitement bubbling in his stomach for next month before it softly subsides as he realises, he needs to know the end of Dorthey’s story, even if that means the loss of your happy smile for a short while

“How did it happen?” he doesn’t need to give you context, you know what he’s asking

“She seemed better one morning, she even got out of bed. In fact…it was the day she made me these” you gesture to the gloves once more and you smile at the memory, though it’s more of a bittersweet kind of smile “But…that evening she took a turn, nothing dramatic, she was just tired, cold…the medication had her talking to the air” you explain, waving “I like to think she was talking to her husband, like he was he one to grant her passage when she moved on, that they were together again…she was a bit of a romantic you see…so am I” you confess, and Remus takes note of it “Eventually she seemed aware of my presence and took my hand, then she smiled and fell asleep…she passed moments later…and that’s how I can see them” you nod to the beach

Remus remains silent for a moment, before reaching out and giving your shoulder a small squeeze “She sounds like a remarkable woman” 

“She was” you nod, smile playing on your lips before you turn your body towards him “I’m glad I got to tell you about her, but there was one other reason I brought you here”

“Yeah?” Remus’ eyes light up a little

“Mhm…the day after the last full moon…” you start and Remus’ eyebrows knit, unsure of where you’re going with this “…you confessed that when you seen me in there it made you worry that you had hurt me that night”

“I’m…ugh”

Remus lets out a shaky breath, he had been a bit harsh at first that morning, he told you that his friends put themselves in harms way enough and he didn’t need a klutz joining them. As soon as it left his lips, he regretted it, he had called you it before, but this time he had negative intent and he could tell it hurt you

“Love…I never…”

“Rem…I forgive you” you gently cut him off and it surprises him “Remus that morning you also told me that you worry one day that something much worse than a fractured wrist might happen, that you would do something magic couldn’t fix” you recount before gesturing to the shoreline “I thought maybe you could use this place whenever you felt that way… I found this place shortly after I was able to see them. Followed them here one night when I couldn’t sleep. It helps you know, to get away” you say forlornly

Later Remus would realise the thing you ran from was expectation, but tonight he nods slowly

“Do you really believe that?” he asks, voice mixed with hope and scepticism “That it could help?”

“I do” you confirm “I thought maybe it can help you shoo away those clouds that neither your friends nor…I…can’t” you say, but the last part is said slower, followed with a shy laugh, like you’re worried you’re implying you play a bigger part in his life than you actually do, and to that his hands reach out squeezing your own, hoping it’s enough to communicate that you are just as important as his friends, in fact you may be even more so one day…or perhaps tonight

Tears prick Remus’ eyes, threatening to spill as speaks again “I…I don’t know what else to say other than…thank you…for this…for everything” he nods his head around, trying his best to convey the deeps of his appreciation 

“You don’t have to say anything more than that” you assure him, letting him know you understand before flashing that smile of yours “Just enjoy the evening” you softly command

And he did, allowing silence to fall between you. For the first time in, well ever, Remus felt what most people must know as peace, allowing his mind to finally stop turning if just for a moment, letting him focus on other things rather that his own voice. The gentle rustle of leaves, soft hum of fireflies, the rocking waves upon the shore…your soft breaths, your steady heartbeat

He never wanted this moment to end

He lets himself look at you then, finding you smiling to yourself, eyes closed as you take in the moment

She is beautiful

He never takes his eyes off of you, a part of him hopes you catch him, hopes that this night is something more to you as it is to him, but the other knows when you look back, he’ll cower away like he always did. Remus knew he was selfish with you, his eyes lingered that little bit longer that they should, as did his touch, he always waited for either the last moment or for you to pull back…secretly hoping one day you wouldn’t

Your eyes open then, turning towards him “What?” you smile softly, head tilted

Remus shakes his head quickly “Nothing, thought there was a fly” he plays it off, returning to the view while quietly chastising himself in his head for the terrible lie

Coward

“Remus…” he flinches a little as your hand finds his “…look at me again”

He hesitates at first, but then you whisper the softest ‘please’ and he’s at your mercy, returning your gaze, eyes curious with a dash of hope or fear mixed in, he didn’t quite know which yet. 

You move to your knees and he finds himself doing the same to face you properly as your touch flows upwards, backs of your fingers grazing his cheek as you push some hair out of the way, your eyes darting between his own like you’re checking he’s comfortable with the new form of intimacy

“You’re the prettiest thing here you know” you say before your eyes flick down to his…lips? 

Your hands are soft, sure as they cup his face, fingers tracing the line of his jaw ever so slightly as you test the waters further, sending shivers down his spine, heart pounding before…

“Remus can I kiss you?”

…it damn near stops

He genuinely didn’t know if this was reality anymore 

“You…” he lets out a shaky breath “…want to kiss me?” he swallows

His fingers itch with the urge to pull you closer, to feel certainty in your presence, your warmth, but he restrains himself, afraid of shattering the illusion

You nod, eyes never leaving his “Very much” you confirm “I have for a while” you confess and for the first time he notices the slight shake in your fingers, the glistening in your eyes, that not so tiny fear that you were hiding so well seeps through…the one where he rejects you 

But he would never

“Can I?” you ask one last time, voice barely a whisper

He doesn’t speak just gives you a hum that you hope can recognise as a yes, which you do, eyes widening a little in surprise before you lick your lips, slowly leaning in. As happy as Remus was, he doesn’t move, still scared this might not be real, that any movement will have him wake up in his dorm and that all this was just a cruel trick of his psyche. That is until your nose softly taps his own, before the plush of your lips find his. It’s tender, sweet, only lasting for a few fleeting moments before you pull away

As you do, he finally breaks free of his paralysis, chasing your lips a little before he watches your eyes flutter open, finding your smile is shy all of a sudden, like you used every ounce of your confidence to work up the courage to not only ask but kiss him and now it was all gone

Kiss her back you idiot!

Remus’(...or maybe Moony’s) thoughts drive him into action, leaning forward to cup your cheek before you can fully withdraw, admiring the way you head falls into it with such ease as he brings his lips close to yours, checking it’s something you want before he finally returns the kiss

It’s more passionate this time, lips moving in sync as his arms wrap around you, gently lifting and bringing you flush against him, while your hands snake around his neck and up into his hair. The warmth of your body seeps into his, and for a moment, the world outside ceases to exist, it’s just you, him, and this garden. 

When he finally pulls back, you’re the one chasing him this time, sneaking one last kiss before your forehead rests on his “Did that actually just happen” he whispers panting gently 

“Afraid so” you giggle 

He lets his smile break free then, no more holding back “How terrible” he nudges his nose against yours

“Horrible really” you continue the joke before softly pecking his lips “Are you glad I interrupted your routine now?”

“Very” he whispers before capturing your lips again

End of Flashback

“What?” 

He’s snapped out of his daze, smiling wide as he leans forward and places a sweet yet firm kiss to your lips

“What was that for?” you wonder, taken aback by the sudden intimacy but not upset in the slightest

“Because you’re the prettiest thing here” 

Thank you for reading ♡

[revelboo]

iiiiinch resting that shockwave has these archival records of Ye Ole Cybertronian/Organic Sparkbonds... would wheeljack have something similar on the flipside? maybe optimus, even?? cuz i cant imagine megatron making another "hey dont fuck the wildlife" psa but for lifespans ykwim??? hell, maybe kup, ratchet or ironhide might but im stumped outside of the first two guesses on if any autobots would be able to dig that up

I just like Shockwave knowing all the random, weird stuff- being a bit of a history buff. Optimus might have encountered that information when he was Orion Pax, but likely would have forgotten it by now.

Pretty much my fics are just Primus being so over his awful kids murdering each other for millennia and also wiping out thousands of organic races and worlds as collateral damage in the process that he pulled out the intergalactic get along sweater. You want to repopulate/ save the Cybertronian race from extinction? Now you’re dependent on not murdering this one organic race that might be every bit as awful about murdering each other as you are. Have fun with that.

Megatron Shitpost Pt 2

• Venting tiredly, he knows he doesn’t have that long before a brawl breaks out. Cramming this many Decepticons in one place is exceptionally ill advised, but fear and intimidation are about all that work on this rabble. “Tarantulas, where are the other bugs?” He demands, scanning the crowd. Sees the scientist stiffen, extra limbs flaring out slightly. ‘As I’ve said countless times, I’m not a bug or an Insecticon,’ Tarantulas hisses. Swallowing a growl, he presses a servo against his helm. “Does anyone know where the Insecticons are? Who’s supposed to be watching them?” And the silence that follows the question is no real surprise. Alright. So those cannibals are loose. And the little, accident prone one, what was his name? Waspinator, maybe? “What about that radioactive lunatic?” A lot of silence is his answer. That one he knows was Shockwave’s responsibility. So it’s entirely possible the scientist just turned Sunstorm loose to see what he’d do. Fantastic.

• “I know that some of you have humans or have been interacting with humans despite being told not to,” Megatron continues when no one volunteers any information on Sunstorm. “I want honesty. Everyone who is harboring a human, raise your hand. Don’t make me go check your habsuites.” And Bonecrusher finally raises a hand, but their human he knows about. “If you make me check your habsuites, I’m going to make all of you as miserable as that waste of time will make me.” There. Skywarp, Thundercracker, and- Vortex? Is that human even still alive? Rumble and Frenzy.

• “Anyone else? Alright. See Scrapper about getting modifications made to your habsuites. As for the rest of you, humans aren’t to be harmed. They’re now a protected species. I don’t care if you frag them, but don’t spark bond them. And don’t draw attention to us.” Aware of Swindle cautiously raising a hand, Megatron growls. “No, I’m not elaborating. But since you’re volunteering, you’ve always been good at acquisitions, Swindle. See if you can get your hands on human food stuffs, clothing.” Staring them all down, daring them to question him while he tries to figure out how this has become his life.

[sheepispink]

continued from my other fic, but tiny drabble of ghost looking after injured u...

You’re shaken from your drowsy state by the timer on Ghost’s phone beeping loudly, making you sit up straight with a groan. He sat on the small dining table, cleaning something by the sounds you could faintly make out of him scrubbing. Though, now with the alarm going off, the chair squeaked as he pushed it out and came to a stand, his slippers making soft patters now. “Time for your medicine.”

“..Don't wanna.” You murmur, knowing well you had practically no choice in this matter. Regardless, you argued anyway. 

“Wasn’t a question.”  He walks over to the cabinet above the side table, taking out the bottles and ointment. Initially, he had kept it on the coffee table since it was easier to grab though you were very prone to accidents with your visual impairment, and so he had to hide it away before you almost broke it. He walks over, settling on the couch next to you before patting his lap. “C’mon, lie down.”

You follow, lying face up across his muscled legs whilst he squeezes the pipette, getting the eyedrops ready. “You’re not wearing your mask..” It’s sort of a surprise, well not really after he did it the other day, but still, he respected his privacy a lot. “Mhm.” That’s all he murmurs, one hand cupping the curve of your cheek before he drops the liquid into your eye. Before he can instruct you as always, he watches as you blink to settle it in properly. The same follows for the other eye, and he gives you a quick pat on the cheek in praise. “No need to hide my face when you can't see it.”

“I can too.”

He rolls his eyes up at your persistence, knowing well that your current quality of eyesight is equivalent to the screen on a nokia. “What do you see?” He grabs the ointment pot, pulling his gloves off before scooping out a pea sized amount. 

“I see your skin.”

“Uh huh, and what does that tell you?” 

“You’re white.”

At that he drops the ointment blob off his fingers, stifling a laugh that desperately wants to be released. “I’m pretty sure, everyone knows that, love.” Carefully, his fingertips rub the ointment onto the burns across your cheeks and neck, making sure not to press too hard. Then he slowly lifts your hands, rubbing it down your forearms and the back of your hands where it hurts quite a bit. “I can do this myself y'know..” You sit up as you always do, stubborn and take the small ointment pot out his hands, rubbing it into all the parts of your skin that still ache. 

“I know, but you look a lot happier when I'm doing it.”

“That’s not true!”

He rolls his eyes at you, or at least you suppose he did because he did that little huff again. “Do you want me to snitch on you to Price?” At that you shut up and he wants to laugh out loud at how your lips part in surprise, shock filling your features almost instantly. “That’s what I thought. Now come on, I need you to talk me through making your omelette tonight.” 

He pulls you up and you begrudgingly follow, hand tucked in his.

[poppadom0912]

🥐 jay halstead fic where reader is kim's or sylvie's younger sister and she meets jay at kim or sylvie birthday party at molly's and takes liking to jay and her sister notices it and makes it her mission to get them together

maybe with some playful cheeky teasing from jay before he makes a move 🤭

A/N: Thank you so much for ordering. I ended up writing much more than I intended and I kinda struggled to put in some teasing but I hope it's okay. Please enjoy!!

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

You were a little tipsy.

Work had been horrible. Today had probably been a record-breaking day in the labour and delivery ward but somehow, all of your patients had faced an ailment and some babies also struggled. You and your team were confident in your abilities but there was still the unease of what could happen overnight.

But today was your sisters birthday and nothing was going to get in your way of celebrating and making tonight all about her.

All the people important to her were in the firehouse and so tonight would be a big celebration with everyone and you’d take her out later in the week.

She hadn’t paid for any of her drinks, the one rule you had placed because obviously, its her birthday.

As the night progressed, Sylvie got more and more drunk but she deserved to have fun. And as the night went on, Molly’s got more and more busy as all the first responders started piling in after their shifts.

You recognised a few of the doctors and nurses from the ED and you heard Matt greeting a few men who you remember being part of ‘Intelligence.’

At one point, you found yourself talking with April and Maggie before you heard Sylvie calling for you across the bar.

Adhering to her calls, you made your way towards your sister who had the giddiest smile on her face, cheeks rosy and hair still somehow perfectly intact.

“Hey hey hey, can you pleeeassse get me some rosé?” She asked nicely, the most innocent expression on her face.

“Sure!” You nodded, feigning agreement as you turned to Hermann. “Can we have some water please. I think we’re done now Hermann.”

You pretended not to hear Sylvie’s ‘cries’ in despair, melodramatically acting as if it was the worst thing in the world you had inflicted on her.

You only received a sound of acknowledgement from Hermann who was swamped in orders.

“Oh hey, happy birthday Sylvie.” A sudden presence at your side appeared out of literal nowhere, smiling at your sister who was slowly getting out of it.

“Aww, thank you so much Jay- Omg Jay this is my sister Y/N, she works at Med.”

You turned to look at this ‘Jay’ and-

Oh wow- what a handsome looking specimen.

“Hi-“

“His brother is Will, they’re brothers Y/N.” Sylvie stressed, as if that idea was unbelievable.

“Oh, hey I’m Y/N. I think Will’s mentioned you a few times, you’re the accident-prone brother right?”

Jay chuckled, rolling his eyes at your words but there was no harm behind it. “Yeah, he’s exaggerating but yep, that’s me, nice to meet you. Sylvie’s mentioned you a few times as well.”

You were not expecting that. When on earth did Sylvie ever have the time to have full on conversations with a detective?

“All nice things I hope.”

“Don’t worry.” Jay assured you, his eyes not leaving yours even as he spoke of your sister. “She’s only said the best things and anyone related to Sylvie is definitely going to be an angel.”

You were speechless. A man who was technically still a stranger was being the nicest any stranger could be. You couldn’t help but feel heat rush up to your cheeks.

You giggled, trying to ignore your reddening cheeks. “That’s so sweet, thank you so much.”

This back-and-forth exchange only continued and the water you ordered went forgotten. Unbeknownst to both of you, Sylvie who was still sat next to you, was watching all of this unfold and despite her drunkenness, she took everything you-related very seriously.

And by the looks of it, she was about to play matchmaker again.

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

You were visiting Sylvie at the firehouse on one of your days off. Everything had been normal, Sylvie was being her usual self until the firehouse received some visitors.

You recognised the three detectives walking into the firehouse, one of which increased your intrigue.

Sylvie didn’t miss your straying eyes as the passed by the bunk rooms.

Sylvie gasped in her usual dramatic style, scaring you to bits.

“Oh my gosh Sylvie!” You slapped her on the arm, shoving her face away when she kept coming towards you. “Sylvie you weirdo!”

“Y/N!” She shook you, probably jostling your brain while she was at it.

“You have a crush~” She said in song, the most stupidest smile on her face.

“You’re such a child.” You tutted, slapping her again on the shoulder. “Stop it you weird child.”

So she listened and stopped… for now at least.

Her smile remained stuck on her face and the blush remained on your cheeks.

Oh, this was getting good. Sylvie knew exactly what to do.

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

Sylvie just so happened to be at Med then next time you saw Jay.

You were taking a break and went outside the emergency department where they had a really expensive coffee cart when you bumped into Jay.

Apparently, he had just finished interviewing a suspect who just had an accident, he caught up with his brother and was now waiting for his partner to finish up inside.

That left the two of you outside alone.

He kept you company in the line and when you went to pay for your coffee, his hand equipped with his card came flying out of nowhere, paying for your coffee.

The audacity of this man.

“Ah- excuse me.” You scoffed, almost frozen in shock as he took the coffee when you didn’t move, gently ushering you away so the line could keep moving. He hand on your waist totally didn’t do anything to you.

Jay hummed, raising an eyebrow with that smirk on his face, imploring you to try it.

You wanted to smack that stupid smirk off his face for good. This silly man had such a grip of the butterflies in your stomach just with his facial expressions.

You were speechless. You had no words to say to him so instead, you went to go grab the coffee cup out of his hand when he took a sip, eye contact maintained the entire time and gave it to you with a smug smile on his face as that single sip of coffee from your cup had fulfilled him.

You failed to pick up your jaw. You simply took a sip from the coffee that was yours.

Sylvie also failed to pick up her jaw from the ground, stood frozen several feet away from you two.

Maybe she didn’t have to intervene after all.  

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

Sylvie had one goal to achieve today and it wasn’t for this party to be perfect. No, Sylvie was going to get you and Jay to finally make a proper move and get you guys to start dating.

She was sick and tired of the endless flirting that went nowhere and she couldn’t look at your lovesick face whenever Jay was in your vicinity.

All would be fixed today, on your birthday.

Sylvie wanted to go all out because you were her sister and an amazing party with friends is the least you deserved. So yes, she still wanted this party to be perfect, but that was on the side for the meantime.

Sylvie had this all planned out so meticulously that even Matt side eyed her warily.

She claimed that she was too busy setting everything up at her apartment and needed someone to go pick you up. It ‘just so happened’ that she invited Jay and incidentally told him to come earlier than when the party was actually meant to start.

She was the perfect actor, gasping in near horror when she saw the time in the living room where she was surrounded by unfinished wrapped presents and decorations that were half done.

It was so easy to get Jay to do exactly what she wanted and deep down, Sylvie knew that he would’ve done so without her even asking.

Just like that, Jay was on his way to pick you up and Sylvie could drop the act and get down to business.

Fast forward two hours later and the party is in full swing. You had been thoroughly surprised and you happiness continued increasing as Sylvie did more and more as the evening unfolded.

Your cheeks were hurting from how much you were laughing and Sylvie couldn’t help but keep an eye on Jay who hadn’t looked away from you for more than a few seconds.

This was perfect.

During dinner, she sneakily got you to sit down besides where Jay was already sat. You had been so distracted talking to her that you didn’t even notice her physically pushing you towards that specific chair.

Sylvie also purposefully put your favourite dish the further away from you so that when you inevitably noticed its presence, you would have to ask if someone could serve you and the first person to take your plate was easily going to be Jay, Sylvie had no doubt about it.

And she was proved correct as said man wasted no time in serving you the perfect portion size.

Your giddiness was practically palpable at this rate.

The rest of the night went equally as smoothly. As everyone was leaving, tidying ensued and Jay was still here.

Everything was still going according to plan.

Elbowing Matt, ignoring his grunt at the sudden motion, Sylvie stood up straight from loading the dishwasher. “We’re all done in here so we’re going to get going.”

Before you could say anything, she went on, “I know I said I’d sleepover but Matt had this thing really early in the morning and he needs my help.”

Matt was caught very off guard, he spluttered as he realised what was happening and didn’t want to be blamed for preventing the two sisters from being together.

Sylvie elbowed him even harder this time, her smile tightening. “I promise, next time I’m staying and we’re doing brunch.”

Your disappointment was quickly eased at her suggestion and in less than five minutes, Sylvie was ushering a very confused Matt out the door, leaving you and Jay alone.

“Love you so much Y/N! Have a good night you two!” Sylvie waved at you two, closing the door behind her with a content smile on her face, sighing in satisfaction and fulfilment.

“Sylvie-“

“Shhh.” She shushed him, her finger at his lips. “Let’s get you home Matt. I’ve got everything under control, trust me.”

Sylvie had no doubt about it. She went to sleep the happiest she had been in a long time.

When she got up the next morning to your text messages with some very unkind words, calling her some very nice names, her smile widened.

Plan to get Jay and Y/N together was officially successful.

[thecreelhouse]

accident prone - the blurb sides

Paring: Steve Harrington x Francesca “Frankie” Amato (fem!OC)

A collection of blurbs (or long winded one shots that were once blurbs) taking place after the main events of Accident Prone — fair warning, there’s spoilers in all of these, so I suggest you read the series first!

Masterlist, playlist, and A/N are all under the cut!

These will mostly not be in chronological order, but will have the date/time frame noted on each specific fic! I’m just writing these as I go and have the drive for each idea, so there’s no set uploading schedule either. Titles are subject to change. Please heed each fic’s specific warnings before reading!

try again tomorrow - Frankie and Steve’s first halloween together (hurt/comfort)

if you know love, you best prepare to grieve - Steve offers to go with Frankie to visit her mother’s grave (angst, hurt/comfort)

daylight - The morning after hooking up the very first time (smut, hurt/comfort)

kintsugi - Frankie comes up with an idea to help Steve struggling with his self-esteem (smut, hurt/comfort)

listen to the blurb sides playlist here

more fics will be added as time goes on (I got a whole list of ideas lol) ☺️

A/N: hi! I’ve been working on some blurbs when I have the time/motivation, because I still adore writing these two together, and I wanted to explore some details and backstories I didn’t get the chance to in the main series. Grateful as always that anyone gives this fic a chance, and I hope the handful of y’all that have asked for more enjoy these. <3

[picturejasper20]

I think one element that is often overlooked about Vlad's character and his relationship with Danny in the series is how he just doesn't think Jack ¨stole the son that should have been his¨ but Danny would be better living with him than with Jack.

In fics this aspect of his character is a lot more explicit but you can still see it in some things Vlad says in the series.

In Bitter Reunions he points out that Danny would spent ¨years stumbling with his powers through adolescence¨ as hinting that he would be better being under the guide of someone who is like him to train him. Vlad also knows that Danny's parents are ghosthunters, so he is pointing out he believes Danny would be ¨safer¨ staying with him.

In other episodes like A Million Dollar Ghost he has some lines hinting at him believing that Jack makes his family unsafe since he is prone to accidents. (¨Your family is in danger every time you pick up a butterknife!¨) and he makes feel Danny feel embarrassed of him because of this.

Vlad has this idea that Danny would have a better life if he accepted him as his father and left Jack. He sees Jack as a threat to his own family and thinks it is dangerous for Danny to have someone like that as parental figure. It is like he has a weird savior complex when it comes Maddie and Danny and that he would be ¨saving them¨ if he made them give up Jack.

[azrakaban]

OUCHIE - Mattheo Riddle X Reader

Hi my loves! I would like to welcome you to...

FICTOBER

so basically I just decided to be a tad productive and now we have some fics for October! Without any more yapping, here's Fictober day One, OUCHIE!

(also ik I'm putting this out on 3rd October, that was an oopsie on my part xx)

Notes: Reader's house is unmentioned, idk how tall you lot are so height is ambiguous (I think) 

It was no secret around hogwarts that you were clumsy. Accident prone. A walking attraction for any kind of bad luck, as your boyfriend so graciously put it when he caught you slipping on a patch of rogue ice in the middle of March.

But what Mattheo didn't often realise is that slipping over could often hurt. Bonking your head on any low or high tree branch (idk how tall y'all are)  could seriously be painful!

It had been a long day for you. Smacking into everything in sight or out of sight, dropping your essay in a puddle, your quill snapping as you fell off your chair... a very long day to say the least. Mattheo met you after your class, walking you back to Slytherin common room to spend the night in his dorm. 

It was halfway through Mattheo's quest as Sir Yaps-a-lot that your tripped over an uneven flagstone, stubbing your toe and crashing to the ground before Mattheo could catch you. "OUCHIE!" You yelled as you fell, foreseeing the pain.

"Y/N, I'm starting to think you're in a committed relationship with the floor." Mattheo laughed, not realising how much it was hurting as tears welled in your eyes. You sat up, just as tears fell and splotched onto your robes, small sniffles escaping.

This, Mattheo picked up on, crouching down next to you. "Bubs? You okay?" Mattheo was instantly being sweet, which he'd deny if any of his friends mentioned it, but it was you. 

"Just really hurts." You sobbed, reaching for him. Mattheo enveloped you into a hug, helping you stand up and taking your bag from you. 

"I'm sorry my love, I didn't realise it hurt that bad." Mattheo looks guilty, and you shook your head. 

"Just lots of things happening too fast." You whispered, trying to stop the remaining tears. 

"Come on, let's go talk about it in my dorm." Mattheo held your arm as you walked. "I'm gonna catch you next time." He said confidently, swinging your hand in his. 

"You'd have to carry me for that." You giggled through the tears. 

"I suppose so." Mattheo suddenly stopped and picked you up, walking the last bit of the way to the common room.

"PUT ME DOWN I WAS JOKING?!" You laughed, trying to wriggle free. 

"Certainly dearest, WOAH-" Mattheo pretended to drop you, and you glared.  

"Not funny, Riddle."

"Very funny, L/N." 

A/N: Short fic, I'm tired <3

[humanitys-strongest-brat]

Shoelaces

Summary: After three weeks apart, Hange plans a get together with the gang.

Pairing: LevixFem!reader

CW: This one shot heavily revolves around the use of alcohol. mentions of smoking and related language. 18+ MDNI.

wc: 3.5k

a/n: First, I'd like to thank @tobbi-loves-levi She has been here to hold my hand through all the sweat and tears of writing my first Levi fic, I truly cannot express how much I appreciate the help and advice I was given. If you do like this, please send some love her way. This cute lil fic is loosely based off of this song, and the scenes were living in my head rent free for weeks prior to writing it, enjoy~

“Took you long enough.” Erwin teases as you hop into the passenger seat, He texted you fifteen minutes ago letting you know he was out front waiting for you. 

“Don't be dramatic, it was only ten minutes.” you huff, pulling the seat belt over your chest and clicking it into place. Erwin gave you a once over, his gaze halting before turning back and shifting the car into drive. 

“You did your hair for this?” he comments, raising an eyebrow. Doing your hair was a generous observation on his part, you just spent extra time on it for tonight. 

“Yeah, and what's that look for? We haven't been able to get together like this in so long, so I wanted to look a little nice.” It's been three weeks since the five of you could all hang out together. Miche got a new job and Hange had a change in shifts, making it nearly impossible to do something collectively. It just so happens that everyone has the day off tomorrow, so Hange suggested getting together to drink and catch up.

 “It's just us, you never cared like that before. Besides, if this is like any other time your hair’s gonna look like shit by the end of the night anyways. Like that time Miche set your hair on fire lighting that cig for you.” He laughs. You cringe and brush your fingers through your hair in the same area that was singed short, only just recently were you able to make it look like it blends in with the rest of your hair. “Or, that time Hange-” Erwin starts but you quickly interrupt. 

“Okay! I get it, I'm accident prone.” you mumble, giving him a playful glare. “Both of those are better than the time me and Levi had to drag you out to the car which, by the way, wasn't fun.” you smirk, watching his dumbfounded expression illuminate under each street light you pass under

 “Like that compares at all, it was one time, and my birthday” Erwin retorts and gives you a gentle nudge. You shrug in response, looking out the window to see you're already turning down the street that leads to the house that Levi, Hange, and Miche share. “We’re late again, you know how much shit we’re going to get?” 

 ***

“Finally!” Hange raves when you walk in with Erwin. You make your way in and take your bottle of contribution to the cooler that was already set up in the living room, stuffing it in and shutting the lid. Almost instantly after, you were met with a fierce hug from Hange. “Late, as always. What was the hold up? Anything interesting?” They beamed, their eyes gesturing hopefully towards Ewrin. You parted from Hange’s hug, shaking your head at their silent accusation. This wasn’t new for the two of you. For as long as you could remember, you both have been teased about your friendship. Everyone constantly begged for you two to finally get together. Erwin is your best friend, and has been for years. The thought has never crossed your mind. The only person who understands that is Levi, he's the only one who never pokes and prods for something more. 

“Thought I heard the lovebirds were finally here.” Miche announced as he emerged from his bedroom. He makes his way into the living room and grabs two beers out of the cooler and tosses one to Erwin as he walks past him. “Catch up” Miche enthusiastically demands, cracking the tab on his can and raising it up to Erwin in a faux cheers. 

“You guys really started without us?” Erwin groans followed by the sharp hiss and snap of his own can. 

“What, were we supposed to wait for the two of you to stop sucking face in the car?” Miche laughs and gestures to you and Erwin both. Erwin rolls his eyes but just as he was about to respond the whole room collectively flinched at the sudden piercing interruption of music that gradually dimmed down to an appropriate volume. All eyes fall on Levi who’s standing in front of the speaker with his phone in his hand. 

“Cleaning playlist, forgot to turn it down earlier.” He explains candidly and takes a swig from the cup in his opposite hand, seemingly unapologetic for the disturbance. 

“Jesus, Levi. When did you get out here?” Miche groans, rubbing his ear melodramatically. Levi ignores him, instead he turns to face the group. “Didn't realize this party was about celebrating Erwin sucking face. I would have stayed in my room had I known.”

 “No one’s staying in their room!” Hange chimes as they make their way to Levi “it’s been three weeks, we should do something fun!” they place their hands on Levi’s shoulders and grin “like a drinking game.” they suggest, approval spreads across the room. 

“Pass.” Levi scoffed, rolling his eyes like he was above the activity. “Looks like you're outvoted.” Hange sings, squeezing Levi’s shoulders and quickly moving to drag the coffee table away from the couch for everyone to sit around. Miche was already on his way in with the bottle and a shot glass.

“Fine. I’ll play but I'm not sharing that shot glass with any of you, I’ll get my own.” he sighs, heading straight for the kitchen. Hange cheers and grabs chasers out of the cooler, lining them around the circular table as everyone settles into their chosen spots. Levi returned shortly after with his own shot glass, you notice a clean rag hanging out of his pocket as he sits in the space left open for him. Miche chooses the game for the group, the rules are simple and easy to follow. It doesn't take long, just a few rounds in and everyone around the table seems to have a pink flush across their cheeks, slurring their words, and laughs at anything anyone says.

***

“Damn!” Hange rasps out with a cough, slamming the shot glass back down onto the table. At this point in the game Hange was doing horribly, the last 3 rounds of the game they were the one to take the losing shot. They pick up the bottle and shakily attempt to fill the glass up for the next victim. Liquid splashes around the glass as they miss a couple times. 

“Okay,” Erwin says and takes the bottle from them “I’ll fill them from now on.” He adds. “it’d be nice if someone else could start taking the shots!” Hange complained, folding their arms over their chest. 

“That’s entirely on you, Hange.” Erwin pointed out as he finished pouring for them. His hand was stable despite being just as drunk as anyone else at the table, he was always the one who handled the liquor best. 

“Stop losing and you won’t have to take any more.” You laugh and watch Levi lean forward, pick up the glass, and quickly wipe underneath with the rag he’d brought to the circle. Even tipsy he was concerned about keeping things at least a little clean. 

 The next round, Hange takes the losing shot again. “of course!” They spout, taking the bottle from Erwin’s side, forgetting that he was in charge of filling the glass after each shot. Before he could register that Hange had taken the bottle, they were attempting to fill the glass again. With shaky hands Hange tips the bottle too far, causing the rim of the bottle to clash with the shot glass, tipping it over. The jolt alone was enough to cause them to drop the bottle as well. You watch as it rolls off the table, its contents spilling out. 

“Come on, Hange.” Levi groans as he lunges forward. He fails to catch the bottle, forced to watch it spill out and seep into the rug. “Games over.” He announces, immediately going back in with the rag. Levi sets the bottle back upright on the table and Miche gathers up the remnants of their game, wiping the liquor off the cards as he organizes everything back into the box. 

You thread your fingers between Hange’s after they stand up. “Kitchen, Hange.” You sang, guiding them out of the living room. Despite their protests, you decided you both need a water break. You let go of Hange’s hand, and they lean against the counter to the right of the fridge. You grab two glasses from the overhead cabinets and pull the ice tray out of the freezer. “Sooo,” Hange coos as you as you cracked the tray, haphazardly dropping ice into both cups. 

“Yesss,” you mimic back in the same tone, opening the fridge. 

Hange pushes off the counter and leans over the open door “Erwin looks cute tonight, huh?” They try, grinning. 

“Not this again,” you laugh at them and set the first filled cup on the counter behind you. 

“Give me a break!” Hange groans, dropping their head onto their forearms. “You always avoid talking about it, when will you guys give up the act?” You look towards them and your attention is immediately drawn to Levi, who is discarding an arms worth of cans onto the counter. He kneels down in front of the sink and starts digging through the cabinets underneath. 

“It’s not like that, and it never has been.” 

“bullshit, there’s got to be a reason you haven’t just gone for it yet. We can all see how it is between you two” they pried for more. 

“And you’re all wrong” you say as you set the second cup down next to the first. 

“Then what is it? You still have that thing for Levi?” They joke. Your eyes immediately flicker back to Levi, he’s frozen, still knelt down at the sink. You swear you can feel all the color drain from your face. Hange has already started mumbling about a new topic you couldn’t focus on. 

“Hey, four eyes.” Levi stands up from his position, peeling out the trash bag he was digging for. “Keep me out of your fantasies and come help me with your mess” he says, his tone was flat, as usual. He turns away without looking at either of you and walks out of the kitchen. 

“Shit, he heard that?” Hange asks, looking back at you. It's obvious by their face how embarrassed you must look because Hange immediately starts assuring you that it’s fine. 

You walk back out to the living room with Hange, still fighting off the embarrassment from the kitchen. You watch as Hange picks up the various chasers that were still left over from the game. When you turn your attention to Levi your face burns, you wonder if that made everything weird now. “You good? You look like you could use one of these.” Erwin interrupts your thoughts, handing you a new can. You accept and pop the tab.

“You have no idea.” You confirm, taking a drink.  

“What a mess.” He comments and shakes his head, watching as Hange and Levi clean. Just as you open your mouth to reply, Miche caught your attention as he made his way across the living room, careful to walk around the chaos that Hange and Levi were cleaning. When he catches your gaze he raises a hand up, flashing a lighter and gestures towards the back door with a nod "smoke break?" 

"Count me in!" Hange yells, quickly standing and discarding the handful of cups on a nearby side table and making their way out, followed by Erwin. You tip your can back, finish the beer, and make your way to the back door. you lazily slide your shoes on not even bothering to pull the backs up over your heels, you glance behind you to see Levi gathering up the empty cups and beer cans and throwing a couple unopened cans into the cooler placed in the living room. You think for a moment about staying inside and doing damage control with him, maybe you could convince him that Hange was just being dramatic, or using it as a means to prove that they’re right about Erwin. "Come on! What're you doing?" Hange interrupts, pulling you away from the door and sliding it shut, dragging you over to the group. 

"Hange, you really couldn't have said that a worse time." You groan and squeeze your eyes shut, willing another wave of embarrassment away. At this point, you didn’t care about bringing it up in front of Erwin and Miche. You figure Hange would tell them on their own anyway. 

"Said what?" Miche mumbled around the cigarette hanging off his lips, passing the lighter to Erwin. 

"Well.." Hange drawled, a shit eating grin on their face "I may have spilled the beans on her little crush on Levi.. right in front of him." Now both Erwin and Miche were looking right at you, a few moments of silence pass before Erwin raises a brow and glances between you and Hange

"Crush?" His tone was so flat it didn't even sound like a question.

"Levi?" Miche interjected quickly, waiting for you to say you were joking. When the silence began to linger Miche let out a quick snort "like, Levi?" He asked again, his hand gesturing towards the house. "No shit, way to pull the rug from under our feet." He shakes his head in disbelief and nudges Hange with his elbow "you knew and still said your piece about Erwin this whole time? Evil." he laughed 

"Hey, I was told in confidence that she thought Levi was hot one time!" Hange spills out. It was true, months ago you hung out with Hange alone. The two of you decided to have a night in with movies and wine since no one else could join. After a couple glasses you let it slip that you had a small crush on Levi, making sure to paint it as fleeting so the two of you didn't get the same treatment as you and Erwin. "Hey," Hange places a hand on your shoulder "are you alright?"

“I’m just worried about it, I never would have told him that. You saw him in the kitchen, everything is probably going to be so awkward now.” 

"Oh stop, it's Levi!" Hange encourages and pulls you in close by your other shoulder "he doesn't care, he probably won't even mention it" they try to reason with you, but it falls on deaf ears. you were so full of doubt. How could things be normal after this? Were you just supposed to continue on while pretending it didn't happen? That's exactly what you plan to do because there was no chance you could bring it up to his face.  

"I'll be back" you mumble at Hange as you spin on your heels and make your way inside through the back door and decide the bathroom would be a more private place to pull yourself together. 

***

You admire the photos that hang unsystematically in the hallway, tracing waves on the wall with your finger as you glide through, the music slowly starts to fade the closer you get to your destination and completely muffles as you close the bathroom door. 

"uh, hi?" 

You snap your attention towards the voice, meeting a sharp but forgiving gaze. "Levi, I didn't realize you-." you start, feeling the heat in your cheeks as you stammer for the words to apologize. Levi's stare is unmoving for a moment. He looks down, swiping the cloth off the hook to dry his hands. His eyes dart back to your face. "Your shoelaces are untied." 

What..? 

You take a moment to register what he just said, double checking that you heard him correctly and glancing down to see the strings loosely hanging off each side of your shoes. "That's how I like them..." When his expression doesn’t change you curse yourself for sounding so dumb. 

"And you're walking through my house with shoes on." he states and you can feel your face burning even more. Duh, Why wouldn't you have remembered to take them off as you came in. Just as you part your lips to muster up what would probably sound like another pathetic attempt at an apology, you notice the small smirk pulling at Levi's lips "Save it. Hange's party, Hange’s mess to clean" He assured you.

You hum in response and started to turn back towards the door to leave "Was that true?" He asked, you can hear a subtle eagerness in the question "What Hange said, I mean" he corrects his tone this time. You’re completely still while a wave of embarrassment washes back over your whole body trying to think of something to say, but you're stuck speechless. Muffled music and Hange’s voice chanting at Erwin to chug from outside quickly fill in the silence. You take a deep breath, realizing that now is your chance to give context. 

“Yeah, but that was so long ago,” you stammer your words and finally turn to face him, he’s closer now. 

“Yeah? How long?” He’s smirking now, arms crossed over his chest, like this is amusing to him. 

“Months.” Was all you could say in response. 

“So what happened? You let eyebrows take my spot?” He teases. 

“You’re starting to sound an awful lot like Hange, It was never like that anyway,” you scoff, not realizing his implication of having a spot. In your attempt to explain yourself you hadn't noticed Levi closing the space between you. 

“You done?” He interrupts, glancing down at your lips then back up. Your eyes meet his and you nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Levi leans in, his fingers brush against your jaw as he reaches out resting his hand at the nape of your neck. He pulls you in gently and pauses briefly before your lips meet. You hear his breath shake before he closes the small space between the two of you. Warmth spreads across your whole body and the intoxication rushes back in. You drape your arms over his shoulders and relax into it, tilting your head to follow his lead. Levi rests his other hand on your hip, pulling you flush against his body and snaking his fingers through the hair behind your head. He guides you back up into the door, his hand acting as a cushion for your head as he moves his lips against yours. Your breath hitches at the gentle impact against the door, you pull your arms back in to cup his face just as he parts from you. He rests his forehead against yours, his breaths coming out in soft pants. Your eyes meet again and just as he parts his lips to say something you hear the back door slide open and shut. Levi quickly pulls back from you, a quiet ‘shit’ falling from his lips. You realize how long you have been missing from the group. Grabbing the door handle you turn back to Levi, he responds with a gestured nod toward the door. A silent agreement that you leave first. You twist the handle and exit the bathroom quickly, closing the door behind you. As you step away from the door Erwin turns down the hall and stops at the sight of you. 

"There you are.” he starts, sounding relieved. “We got worried when you didn't come back and," he stops speaking when you hear the bathroom door click shut behind you. You watch as Erwin's eyes flicker back and forth. You press your eyes shut as Levi slips quietly past you. When the back door slides shut signaling that Levi is outside, you open your eyes. Something is different about Erwin’s posture; he seems stiff and his expression indecipherable. "Oh, looks like that worked out for you then?" He questions, referencing Hange’s slip of the tongue earlier and offering a wistful smile.

"Yeah, I guess it did." You agree, biting back a grin. 

***

The night died down fast. Miche made sure Hange had more water and got into their bed without issue then retreated to his own room. Erwin has the couch, and you have the recliner, your usual arrangement for nights spent over. The music was silenced, the only light now coming from a single lamp on the side table keeping the room just lit enough for Levi. He paces between the living room and kitchen, picking up the last of the mess left behind from the night. Erwin hasn’t said much since coming back inside. You assume he's not feeling well and decide to leave him alone for the night, you could fill him in tomorrow. You spend your wind down time curled up on the chair, your eyes flicking between your phone and Levi as he moves around the room. "You always had a staring problem, now I know why." he teases.

 "Shut up" you roll your eyes at him, setting your phone down as he walks back towards you. 

"Let's go." He says as he yanks the blanket you were using off of you, tucking it under his arm. 

"Where?" You ask.

"My room, dumbass."

Taglist: @ackerbootytobbi @amywritesthings

[wolfstarlibrarian]

Hi!

First of all, I love your blog. I can’t imagine the time and dedication it must take to be able to do all of this. So, thank you for making our wolfstar-filled lives easier!

I don’t know if you’ve been asked this before or not, but have you recently read any new fics that you absolutely loved?

Anyway, I hope you have a nice day!!! ✨

P.

Thank you so much! Anytime someone sends in an ask like this, just assume I'm blushing.

And what a fun ask! These fics don't have a connected theme, but these are a few of the most recent ones I've read (that you'll probably see pop up on other lists at some point).

Wolfstar Fics to Keep You Up Past 3am

Dear Mr. Black by @languagelessonswolfstar When famous TV chef Sirius Black is publicly outed and needs to escape the London paparazzi, he heads to a very rural B&B in Northumberland where he's astonished to taste the most delicious almond croissant he's ever tasted and simply must meet the chef. Featuring falling in love, snowy hikes, seeing the stars, chestnuts roasting on an open fire, unconventional families, letters to Father Christmas, wishes coming true, finding authenticity, getting to the heart of things, and lots and lots of food.

you know how to ball (i know aristotle) by @emlovessid @drunkdumbfucker Being promoted to full time sports journalist at the Daily Prophet is a dream come true for any quidditch fan. But for Remus Lupin, the 2024-25 season of the British and Irish Quidditch League Cup has more in store for him than he ever could have imagined; namely Puddlemere United's star beater, Sirius Black.

Between pre-match interviews, post-match drinks and social media banter that borders dangerously on flirting, Remus is only one swing of the beater's bat away from falling for him. And he can only hope that when he does, Sirius is there to catch him.

I'm Waiting Here for You by @ohyou-pretty-things Remus Lupin, a single father with impending medical debt, suddenly found himself unemployed, and he was fine—until he responded to a mysterious rebus on a job board, got hired by an eccentric young man, and ended up with more than he bargained for.

Sirius Black was only looking for some help around the office, and he certainly never intended to break any rules.

The Fall by @euripidestrousers The day the devil appears starts like any other.

Remus Lupin goes about his day as a primary school teacher, marking homework, calmly defusing heated fights between eight year olds, and pouring his heart and soul into his job. He's a perfectly normal person, thank you very much.

The devil disagrees.

London Boy by @chlobliviate

Sirius moves from London to Cardiff to be near James, Lily and Harry. As a firefighter, he seems to be unfairly accident-prone and ends up in A&E multiple times, where he meets Remus, a very hot, very Welsh nurse.

Slow burn. (pun intended)

Want something to read? Ask the Librarian for a fic or book rec!

[bestlilithian]

Random personal experiences w my placements and aspects

Neptune in 6th house

- random hallucinations throughout the day?? I go around wondering if the fly I hear buzzing around in my room is real or not cause Im prone to little hallucinations like that or in worse cases hearing footsteps and knocking

- so much daydreaming. id pay someone to make me stop because the thing is I dont even want to but its affecting me negatively

- almost constantly tempted to do something that could be considered an addictive behavior (for example Im a lil bored and suddenly a pack of cigarettes sounds yummy)

- anxiety 🫶 about the stupidest, tiniest things throughout the day. I dont stress before life changing finals and exams,,, I do however wonder if today is the day that I die in a car accident because I didnt feel like putting my seatbelt on in a usually empty area.

- randomly dissociating

Chiron in 6th

- every day is pain 😁

- beating myself up for not being productive and then not doing anything about it

- pathological demand avoidance

Gemini moon

- my brain cannot and will not relax ever

- reading. so much reading and processing except instead of reading Dostoyevsky its usually either reading up about my astro placements or indulging in an extremely long ao3 fic

- need to always be listening to or reading something. like yeah let me listen to someone analyze societal issues and contemplate life in a 1h video essay while I brush my teeth and make breakfast

- videos on 1.5x. Yall need to talk faster (I <3 ppl who talk fast naturally)

- vividly hearing other peoples voices in my head. 💀 not like theyre talking to *me*, just as if some people whose voices I recognize are having a convo and I hear it, except theyre *not there* and the convo doeent make sense . Its not a hallucination tho I can tell its in my mind but its still very weird and distracting esp when Im trying to sleep or concentrate

- ranting to my imaginary friend whos actually kinda conscious ngl might even be a tulpa at this point