#sorry for the tags x

[maseyfilms]

WILDEST DREAMS — C.L16

summary. based on wildest dreams by taylor swift

pairing. charles leclerc x female!reader

w.count. 5.0k+

warnings. bad english; not proofread; fluff; angsty if you squint; cursing

a/n. this took me so long to finish, im not even kidding when i say i spend two or three months doing it (or even more). anyway, hope you like it !

He said, "Let's get out of this town

Drive out of the city, away from the crowds"

I thought Heaven can't help me now

Nothing lasts forever

But this is gonna take me down

september 2019; Italy, Monza

sunday- race day

'he won in spa, he wins in monza!

Charles Leclerc is the winner of the 2019 italian grand prix!'

You were stunned, or surprised, actually the feeling was confusing for you. You were so happy and so proud of a person you met less than one week ago. About a sport you have never watched in your life.

Maybe it was the vibe. The crowd of red caps and red ferrari flags. Smokes of the italian flag colors making the view even more enchanting.

'Il predestinato!' they screamed. Even with your horrible italian you managed to understand what they were saying.

They were screaming about Charles, your Charles.

You were smilling widely even not knowing anything was going on around you, just that Charles won the race, your first race, the one he begged you to be there. The thought made your heart beat a little bit faster.

You heard a notification sound coming from your phone as soon as you were out of the paddock, heading to the parking lot, it was a message from Charles saying to meet him at his room when you arrived at the hotel.

A few minutes later the door from his bedroom opened revealing a very happy Charles, no longer in the well-known Ferrari suit, now dressed in simple black denim shorts and a tight white t-shirt, sweaty skin mixed with the champagne from de celebration. You would cringe at the view and probably would think it was disgusting if wasn't Charles.

‘Hey, il predestinato’ You joked and and gestured for him to seat by your side on the edge of the bed.

'How do you know about that?" he asked knitting his eyebrows together, dragging himself towards the bed and talking a seat beside you.

‘The people were saying it there' you smiled widely and glanced at the window, 'can't believe you actually won the first race I watched’.

‘How do you feel about it? don’t know, maybe you win every race and I’m just being stupid’ he chuckled.

‘I don’t, but I feel happy though, mainly 'cause you were watching.’ He smiled, red into his cheeks as he admitted, the same red appearing to your own at his words.

'and… I was thinking maybe since I won I could take you out?’ he asked, biting his lip to contain the huge grin that was trying to break out.

‘I would like that Mr.Leclerc’ You said getting up from the bed. ‘I’ll just get my stuff’ and you leave a small peck on his cheeks.

‘So where we’re going?’ You questioned and turn your head towards Charles who was focused on the steering wheel and the street.

‘I’m not telling you, I said it was a surprise!’ He giggled and you rolled your eyes.

‘Here we are’ He parked the car in front of an empty beach. The sun was setting so the sea looked more gorgeous than normal, the sunlight meeting with the water giving a beautiful sight.

‘It’s wonderful, Charles’ You said as you both walk towards the sand.

‘You like it?’ He asked and you guys sat on the sand, you rested your head on his shoulder, admiring the handsome view in front of you.

‘I love it, really’ You turn to look into his eyes and leaned, joining your lips on his for a soft kiss, the two smiling like idiots and when you separate, your smile grows even wider as you murmured a small ‘Thanks for bringing me here.’ against his lips.

He's so tall and handsome as hell

He's so bad, but he does it so well

I can see the end as it begins

My one condition is

september 2019; Italy, Monza

some days before the race

‘Can you hold the door for me?!’ Charles heard as soon as he enters the hotel elevator, quickly putting his arm between the door so it doesn't close. A woman holding lots of bags, some with strange shapes, enters the elevator. ‘Thank you’ She smiles.

‘What floor are you going to?’ Charles asks, seeing she was too busy holding all the bags in her arms to remember - or manage - to press the button for the floors. She answers and he gets surprised since is the same floor he’s staying. ‘So what’s all that stuff for?’ He tries to bring up the subject.

‘Oh it’s work stuff, I'm a photographer’ You kindly smile at him.

‘That’s nice! Do you always come here to take photos?’ His cute french accent made you softly laugh and look down your feet.

‘Every year I come here to Monza to take some pictures, it is a very beautiful place, especially at this time of the year’ You glance at the set of elevator buttons and realize that he has only pressed your floor number, concluding that his room is on the same floor as yours, for some reason you smiled at that and changed your focus to his face. His green eyes already looking at you and his handsome face made you lower your head again to hide the red that would probably appear in your cheeks, thing that didn’t go unnoticed by Charles.

‘I’m Charles, by the way’ He introduced himself, smirking a little.

‘Y/n’ And shy smile formed on your lips as you responded.

The elevator arrives at your floor and you say goodbye to each other, taking different ways to your rooms.

Say you'll remember me

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

september 2019; Italy, Monza

some days before the race

You're not the type of person to fall in love in first sight, or feel some type of connection with someone in less than one month. Coming from some traumatic relationships you had some problem with trusting people. With Charles there was something weird, it was different.

‘So, you never told me why you’re here’ You turn to face him, frown on your face.

You were sitting on the edge of a deck, it was a warm, starry evening. You met after dinner and decided to go for a walk around the town.

‘Work things’ He answered. Looking down at his swaying feet almost touching the water then looking at you.

‘What do you work with?’ You tuck a lock of hair behind your ear and smile at him.

‘I’m a formula one driver.’ He starts, ‘It’s racing weekend’

‘Oh, that’s awesome!’ You added, ‘My dad never missed a race when I was a kid, but I never watched one.’

‘Really?’ You confirmed nodding your head and laughed at his surprised face.

‘What? Don’t look at me like that!’ You complied at his mocking face. ‘I’m not the only person in the world who never had watched a formula one race, don’t judge me.’

‘You should go watch this one then, see me winning, you know, everything has it's first time’ Charles invited with a smirk.

‘Oh so you’re that good you’re already presuming you’ll win?’ You teased back. ‘Well, so you better be right, I don’t wanna be disappointed’ You joked while fixing the strap of the blue summer dress that hugged your body.

‘You won’t’

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

Wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

september 2020; Italy, Monza

race week

A year has passed since you and Charles saw each other for the last time and he misses you.

It was Monza GP week and – unfortunately – Charles was having dinner with an italian friend of Pierre. The french driver said he should choose between call you and say he misses you or forget you and meet someone new, the first option was nothing a sober Charles would choose to do so he chose to - at least try - meet someone new.

The 'meet someone new' mission was being a total failure, even with a nice girl in front of him he couldn't stop thinking about you. He felt guilty about it, but he couldn't help it when the girl only talked about herself, and he was thinking of how you always made sure of not being the center of the conversation.

The girl was nothing like you, not that it was a problem, but for him it was. She was nice, pretty, but not as pretty as you, kind, but not the same kindness as you. And the falseness in her laughing just made it even worse for him .

He was thinking of your laugh and how he missed it, the thoughts sinking in so deep he could have sworn he heard your laughter coming from somewhere in that fancy restaurant.

Lifting his gaze from his plate to where the laughter had come from, he realized that he wasn't going mad and that he actually heard you laughing.

He was breathless to see how you looked, prettier than you were a year ago when he met you if that was even possible. Something about you was different, maybe your hair was short, you looked more mature, your hair pendent up in a way you never did before, but there was still Y/N, but not his Y/N anymore.

You were playing with some children beside you, your eyes were almost sparkling, vibrant smile and oh, the prettiest red lips he had ever seen in his life. The sight made his heart clench and he smiled for the first time that night.

The girl sitting across from him noticed and dramatically turned her head to see what it was he was looking at. When she saw you, in disbelief she got up from her chair and stormed off shouting something in italian about if he didn't want to have dinner with her, he should have told her before she spent two hours getting ready, nothing he would have paid attention to, because the girl's volume had drawn attention from the entire restaurant, including you and the people at your table.

When he looked back at you, you were already looking at him.

You got caught off guard when you saw him, not because of the girl's behavior, but because you were seeing him after so long. You sent him a shy grin and a silent 'hey', to which he responded with a wave of his hand and a embarrassed smile before paying the bill and following the girl for apologises.

When he was out of the restaurant he looked back at you through the window. You were laughing, as always, while sipping your wine and talking to your family. It was one of the most beautiful scenes his eyes were ever allowed to see, he saved it as a picture in his memories.

I said, "No one has to know what we do"

His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room

And his voice is a familiar sound

Nothing lasts forever

But this is getting good now

september 2019; Italy, Monza

sunday- race day

You came back from the beach at 9pm and you felt strange because you were making out with a person you met just some days before, and that was new, but you also felt good cause that just felt right. He felt right.

‘Mine or yours?’ You whispered trying to free yourself from his kiss, stumbling when the elevator reached your bedrooms floor and Charles wouldn't stop kissing you.

‘Yours is closer’ He mumbled against your lips, pulling you by the waist towards your room.

You manage to get the door card out of your back pocket and open the door, Charles instantly guiding you inside and slamming the door shut with his foot.

He kissed you hungrily and desperate, but also soft and loving, you had never felt something like this in all your relationships. Charles felt the same, he was kissing you like he would normally do with any other girl, but with you it was different, his body always act different around you.

The two of you hurriedly started taking off your clothes, doing your best to not break the kiss.

‘Shit!’ He trips over one of your bags on the floor, trying to grip on the wall and also hold you so you don't fall, but all that just caused you both to fall to the ground. Trying to contain it but failing miserably, you burst out laughing.

He's so tall and handsome as hell

He's so bad, but he does it so well

And when we've had our very last kiss

My last request is

september 2019; Italy, Monza

week after the race

You knocked at Charles door and he opens it. Fresh of the shower, wet hair and grey sweat pants, after shave lotion and some expensive french perfume.

He was leaving, you could see how the room was already cleaned and organised. His bags were already packed near the door and he was totally avoiding looking at your face.

‘Are you already going?’ You almost whisper as you notice the bags and the bedside tables empty.

‘Uhm, yes’ He rubs the side of his neck, looking at you for a second, but now you're the one who's avoiding his face. ‘My flight is in one hour'

The silence that fills the room is awkward, neither of you knowing what to say or what to do. You wanted to run into him and kiss him goodbye strongly, hold him into your arms so tight that he would feel you'll never let him go. You wanted to tell him how this past two weeks meant to you and that you loved him.

You opened your mouth but nothing come out from it, you knew that was the last time you were going to see each other.

Charles didn't know what to do either. So he just pull his bags out of the room, looked at you at you for some embarrassing 15 seconds, and hugged you.

But it wasn't the kind of hug he usually had, the warm and comfortable hug you used to woke up with when he slept in your room, but rather, a strange and unnatural hug. And he kissed you forehead

You were fighting back the tears but they couldn't help it and started rolling down your cheeks, Charles quickly cupped both sides of your face and wiped the tears away with his thumb.

‘I’ll miss you, Charles.’ You confessed, tongue poking the inside of your cheek and looking anywhere but at him.

‘I’ll miss you too, mon amour’ He leaned pecking your lips. Wet kiss from the tears rolling down your cheeks. Charles wanted to slap himself just for the thought of he being the one that made you cry, but there's nothing he could do, he had to leave.

Say you'll remember me

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha (ha-ah, ha)

Wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

may 2021; Monaco, Monte Carlo

When your friend invited you to this party on a uselessly expensive yacht, you made it clear you didn't want to go. But your friend was stubborn and she couldn't stop talking about this stupid party and how amazing it would be, so you given up and put yourself in a tight dress and high heels.

You despised drunk people when you were sober, and rich drunk people were even more despiseble. You hated how they kept bragging themselves about their millionaire mansions or how they kept competing about who has more boats or fancy cars.

No doubt the party was not hitting for you. You had two drinks and the ice on the one you were holding had melted at some good minutes ago, still untouched. Tipsy, but not drunk, you saw your friend dancing with some random dude at the dancefloor, hopefully that she was going to leave when the music was over.

Unsurprisingly, another annoying electronic song starts and your friend doesn't seem to be willing to head home. The yacht was already back to the marina, so you decided to leave the boat and wait for your friend away from the crowd.

You looked back at your friend as you stepped out into the cool night air, glad to be away from the thumping bass of the party yacht.

As you walked down the steps to the deck, you felt a jolt as you bumped into someone, causing you both to stumble.

"Sorry," you muttered, looking up to see who you had knocked into. And you're met with that familiar face, his gaze directly at you.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, unsure of what to do next. Time seemed to stand still as you took in the sight of each other. His hair was still as messy as ever, his eyes still the same shade of green blue-ish that made your heart skip a beat.

"Hi," Charled said, breaking the silence. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, it has" you nodded, feeling an awkward smile creeping onto your face. "How have you been?"

"Good" He shrugged, eyes flickering through your face. "you?"

"i'm great" you said, chewing your bottom lip and looking anywhere but at him.

"Uhm, what are you doing out here? do you need something?"

"I came with my friend and," You start, pointing back to the yacht. "I just needed some air, party's a bit overwhelming"

He nodded in agreement. "Tell me about it. I was thinking of leaving, actually."

"Same. My feet hurt from these heels."

"Do you want a ride?" The monaguesque kindly offers, noticing your friend probably wouldn't go home soon. "I could drop you off home if you want to"

"Ah, you don't need to" you shrugged, chuckling nervously and fidgeting with the end of your dress. "I'm sure me and my friend will be home soon, and i don't want to get in your way I-"

"No, it's okay, really" Charles interrupted "I wouldn't mind at all"

You hesitated, but nodded. You knew this ride home would be embarrassing but you needed to be home as quick as possible.

The drive was silent, neither of you knowing what to say or do. He tried to make small talk, asking you about your life and work, but it just ended on it.

"Thanks for the ride," you said, breaking the silence as you arrived at your hotel's driveway.

"Of course," he replied, "It was no problem."

You made your way to leave the car, but then you stopped when his hand found your wrist.

"Wait," he said, your confused face bringing him the regret of his previous actions "it was nice seeing you again"

You smiled at his words, leaning to leave a soft peck on his cheeks. And with that you got out the vehicle, walking towards the hotel entrance, looking back at him one more time, then disappearing from his sight.

You'll see me in hindsight

Tangled up with you all night

Burning it down

Someday when you leave me

I bet these memories

Follow you around

september 2021; Italy, Monza

saturday night

Charles was laying on his hotel bed, his head spinning from all the whiskey he had consumed that night. Finished in P1 and Carlos in P3 in quali, the team decided to celebrate, and let's say Charles crossed the line with the alcohol.

He stared blankly at the white ceiling and tried to shake off the memories that had plagued him for the last hour. But one memory held onto him fiercely.

His mind drifted to you, the woman he loved with all his heart. The woman who had once filled his life with laughter and joy, all in just one week, seemed so far away now. It had been two years since you last saw each other, and the pain of that loss still ached him. He knew he fucked up when he leaved, but it was something he had to do.

Picking up his phone at the nightstand, he stared at it, scrolling through the list of contacts then finding your name on it. He looks at your picture for a moment, reminding of all of your moments together. Pictures of your smiles and giggles haunting his thoughts.

The pain of missing you was too much, and soon he was sobbing uncontrollably. He missed it, your laugh, your touch. He just couldn't imagine how much of a idiot to let you slip through his fingers so easily.

Before he knew it, he was dialing your number, hoping that you would pick up, but it went straight to voicemail.

Feeling defeated, he left a message, 'Hey, it's Char. I know it's been a long time, and I know I probably shouldn't be calling, but I can't help it. I still love you, and I miss you so much it hurts. I just wanted you to know that.'

He paused, trying to breathe through his tears before he continued, 'I know I messed up. I was an idiot when i leave you, but if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, please come to the race tomorrow. It's here in Monza, I don't know if you're here but still, I'm sorry Y/N. Love you'

He ended the voicemail, knowing that it probably wouldn't make any difference, but he had to try. He couldn't go on without at least asking for another chance.

As the sleepiness spreads through his body, he held on to the hope that you would come to the race and give him a second chance to make things right.

Say you'll remember me

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just pretend

september 2021; Italy, Monza

sunday- the race

As Charles walked around the paddock, amongst the bustling crowd of mechanics, engineers, and journalists, he couldn't help but glance around, hoping to see you somewhere. He new he shouldn't have called you the previous night, and he was hopeless you'd even heard his voicemail.

With each passing minute, he grew more anxious, convinced that he wouldn't see you anywhere. That was until he caught a glimpse of a woman from the corner of his eye. Her silhouette looked so much like yours, and his heart skipped a beat, thinking that you might actually be there for him.

He turned around, eager to look at the woman that he had missed so much, but when she turned around, it wasn't you.

His heart sank, and he felt his hopes crumble before him.

The race that he had been preparing for seemed unimportant compared to the pain he felt in that moment. He tried to focus on the race, but his thoughts were tangled with you.

He prayed you would be in the stands watching him race, cheering him on.

However, as the race approached, he knew deep down that you were not going to be there.

He focused entirely on the race, pouring all his emotions and energy into it, hoping he would forget about all of this.

With each lap, he pushed himself further and further, driven by the desire to succeed.

Say you'll remember me

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just pretend, in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

In your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

Even if it's just stayed in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

In your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

september 2021; Italy, Monza

sunday- the race

He finished the line on P4. After all his hard work. He was so mad of himself.

Since the race started he was being so rude with people around him, that wasn't him, he used to be so kind and grateful whenever he wins or not, whatever his results were.

But today he was nervous.

Nervous because there was a chance for you to be there, in the same place as him, watching him race so badly like he did today.

But also nervous because he had the thought the you didn't even heard his voice mail, or wasn't there because you hated him.

He left sad of his car though, doing what he was supposed to do as fast as possible so he could get out of there as soon as possible.

He was heading to his trailer when he heard a familiar voice shouting his name.

'Charles!'

At first he thought he was going crazy, just like some hours ago when he saw that woman. But then he turned. And there was you.

Running towards him with a wide smile stamped at your lips. The yellow flowery summer dress that hugged your body flying with the wind, just like you hair.

He was speechless and you were stunning.

'Hey' You greeted, breathy voice and heavy breath. 'I'm sor- I was going to talk to you before the race but i arrived here a little late and-'

'That's fine.' Charles interrupted you shyly, not knowing what to say next.

'You did so good down there! Congratulations!' You smiled kindly and looked around you 'Well, uhm, i just wanted to say hi, don't know if i can be here' You chuckled.

You both were embarrassed, two years after you both talked seriously and some months since day night in the party. You just didn't know what to do or say, so you give him an awful wave of your hand and a softly 'bye-bye', then started to walk away, leaving charles even more speechless than he was previously.

But then your thoughts stopped you on track and you turn to ask him:

'Char, you were serious about what you said when you called me last night?'

It was like a splash of cold water for him, a snap of fingers in front of his face for him to finally come back to reality. Not only the nickname had taken him by surprise but also the question really made him remember the stupidity he did; he called you last night. He drunkly called you last night. He didn't remember all the things he had told you, but he knows that when he gets drunk he just can't stop himself and say all what he was thinking of. That worried him.

'I-I don't know, I was... drunk' He said, gulping and pulling his fingers through his hair. Then he looked at you.

You were confused, so as him, but you had a frown on your face like you were trying to avoid crying or something, and he felt bad.

'Because, if you didn't meant that, I...' You sadly spoke, looking at his eyes and breathing strongly.

'I can't take it' You started, 'It's always the same, you left me that day and then one year after i saw you in that restaurant with- with that blonde girl and...' you interrupted yourself as tears started rolling down your cheeks. 'and that fucking hurt me when i get to the hotel that day because i thought i got over you and now i know i don't'

'we always ended up meeting eachother, and there's always these awkward and strange conversations and i always thought we will figure something out about this but then i have to leave, or you have to'

'And then you suddenly call me, telling you love me and shit, that you can't stop thinking about me, and i feel good because i feel the fucking same' You wiped your tears and looked at him directly at his eyes. 'and then you invite me to this stupid race and you say nothing? after that bomb you dropped at the voicemail?'

'I-I'm sorry Y/N, I didn't know-' He starts but you interrupted him.

'Please, don't ' you sigh, 'I don't even know why i'm here' and you leave.

Charles is speachless and frozen in his place. Spacing out while he sees you leaving, once again, just like all the other times you met each other.

It's like a switch turning on his thoughts. He can't let you go again, not after all he passed through. He can't let the person who's been in his mind the last two years leave him miserable again. He have to do something, and he have to be quick.

And then he's running, faster then he's capable of since you're really far away. but he catches you, and his hand founds your wrist. You were completely unaware of his presence until you felt his touch, and before you can even turn around your mouths are joined together.

Lips to lips, he's worried when you don't correspond his kiss, but your mind was on a delay as you tried to process all the information.

Your hands run along his chest covered up with the red ferrari shirt when you kiss him back. His arms are wrapped around your figure and he groaned between your lips, deepening the kiss and smiling when your grip on his chest rise up to his neck.

You want to kill mother nature and the human body, but breathing became important as the two of you got out of air, so you pulled away.

'Please stay this time' You can see an only tear drop running down his cheeks as he sobbed, your hand flew to hold his face and wipe it as you gave him a week smile. 'I swear I won't leave anymore'

Pecking his lips once again, you've got a shy smile out of his lips. 'You better be right, I don't wanna be disappointed' You quote the very same thing you said two years before.

'You won't '

[staruie]

where my fellow monster fuckers at 👅👅👅👅👅👅

[misfitmiska]

Best friends who look out for each other by pulling rank on each other. <3

[pathologictwo]

y’all remember we’re talking ab allegations of pedophilia and human trafficking and domestic violence right. real-life abuse. this isn’t fucking hannibal or Genshin or some shit even as a joke these posts are fucking weird

[doitforstamets]

[1] Dream: *is eldritch* Hob: Hi, sweetheart.

[2] Dream: *growls* Hob: What’s that, dove? Not sure I understand…

[3] Dream (wetly): Cuddles…

[iedistis]

"You, Beloved, who are all the gardens I have ever gazed at, longing."

Rainer Maria Rilke

[yawnzshit]

glasses are the sluttiest thing a man can wear.

[summikomi]

jjk smau: it's your birthday! ..where are they?

ft. gojo, yuuji, megumi, nanami, choso & shoko

cw: highly suggestive content, fem reader on yuuji & shoko, implied stsg like once on shoko, alcohol mention on megumi, general sappiness

hello, did anybody order a slice of self-indulgence? (it's my birthday!) if the characters chosen seem random that's because i just picked my favorites.. i may add others later but my fingers were cramping up

[maiooo-0]

Kurt wagner... *clenching fists

Did you know there's a 'what if' of Raven raising Kurt (who she named Michael). I kinda hate half of it but it's actually quite good,,, the art it's my fav part

[shotmrmiller]

oooo to be simon's partner who is fully aware of what he does, having learned all of the shit (both good and bad) he's done once things started looking like y'all were going to be more than the occasional hookup because to be with him is to always be prepared for the worst and it's best you be well informed before making it official because once you're his, he's not letting go.

you don't bring it up much, no want to know anything past if he's coming home now or in a few months time and it's all well and good until one day, you wake with your patience threadbare thin and his usual protectiveness seemed so suffocatingly overbearing that you snap if the way he keeps breathing down your fucking neck is how he treats the people they keep for interrogation and his face tightens in an instant, usual warm eyes hardened into the cold steel of a winter's night.

"you'd know if that were the case."

you hadn't been serious, of course, just pulled a stereotype out of the many military movies he likes to watch just to grunt at all the inaccuracies in it but now seeing his game face slip on so seamlessly, especially after only ever having experiencing his softer side-

heat licks up the sides of your jaw at the thought of being at the receiving end of that. he's already naturally intense, his attention usually feeling like being under a magnifying glass but what if- what if that focus became a crosshair?

a thrum courses through you, from the tips of your toes up to the crown, akin to the hum of electricity surging through power lines. would he cause you pain and lap at the tears that wet your cheeks? would he get off on it? bringing you to your knees after only ever bringing him to his?

"i can see the smoke comin' out ya ears, luv. gotta make sure this is somethin' you actually want, i can be quite thorough."

(the eggs burn on the stove after letting him fuck you on the countertop until your eyes cross and you see two of him.)

[glitchedcosmos]

Sonic and Shadow never really wanted to admit that they liked each other, especially to their crush's face, but that went flying out the window when Sonic took one of Shadow's threats during their sparring sessions as flirting, and he went for it.

Sonic got gut punched immediately after.

[finleycannotdraw]

Part 1 of Nimona as quotes from my friend group’s “no-context-quotes” discord server channel & other assorted nonsensical conversations i’ve had (both featuring @duolingocaticon <33)

Part 2

[sunsetcurveauto]

and they were codependent coworkers

[xxplastic-cubexx]

[right to left]

finally finished This Wip from Ever ago and so now i ask you ever look into another dudes eyes and suddenly want to do whatever he wants

[runraerun]

Steddie Amnesia Fic: 1/3

-> Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3

cw: lots of head trauma/brain injury/recovery stuff.

Steve wakes up in the hospital with someone snoring loudly on his leg, mouth open, drool getting soaked up into the scratchy hospital blanket over him.

Steve just stares.

It’s… Freddie? No, that’s not right... Eddie! Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson, known delinquent and drug dealer… resting his head on Steve’s lap.

What the hell…?

Steve reaches up with a wobbly, IV-ridden hand to clumsily pat along his head, but instead of meeting messy hair, he meets a thick wad of bandages. He flinches when he hits an especially tender spot.

It’s not much but it’s enough to wake Eddie Munson up with a jolt, and a random jumble of words that sounded something like, “the dice have spoken!”, but Steve can’t be sure. Not with the sharp ringing still going off inside his skull.

“Steve? Steve! Oh thank fuck, Jesus H. Christ, you scared the ever loving shit out of me.” Eddie stood and grabbed at one of Steve’s shoulders, shaking him enough to elicit another wince.

“Oh, damn, sorry. I’m like a fucking bull in a china shop here, man. There’s way too much expensive, breakable shit here. I’m not used to it. I accidentally ripped your IV out the other day... Fuck. The nurses hate my guts.” Eddie chuckles, eyes wide and solely on Steve, talking like they were old friends or something.

But that can’t be right. Steve doesn’t remember saying more than two words to Eddie Munson during the entire time he knew he even existed, and even then it was just to discuss weed prices.

“For real though, talk to me Harrington, how you feelin’, hm? Loopy? Gonna yak again? Apparently they got you on the good stuff,” Eddie flicks a liquid filled bag hanging above Steve and shakes his head, “but they keep cutting you back. Dicks.”

Steve’s eyes try and follow Eddie’s erratic movements but his eyes ache the more he moves them. He blinks against the harsh fluorescents and tries to open his mouth. And thank God, Eddie Munson seems to take this as a sign and shut up.

“What happened?” Steve finally croaks.

One of Eddie’s brows jumps. “You don’t remember?”

Steve gives his head a small shake. Did Eddie hit him with his car or something? Is that why he’s sleeping at his bedside and talking to him like they’re buddies?

“You fell, Stevie.” Eddie makes a whistling noise and mimicks something falling with his hands, then makes a crashing sound when his hand lands on Steve’s bandaged head. “Like a coconut out of a tree. Landed right on that big ol’ melon of yours. There was blood everywhere. It scared the shit out of me and the kids. Especially when you wouldn’t wake up.”

Steve’s throat feels like sandpaper, but he manages to swallow, his throat clicking as he did, and gets out, “The kids?”

Eddie seems to notice, even before Steve can ask, and reaches for a water bottle with a straw already in it, and half chewed. Eddie’s own, no doubt. Against his better judgment, Steve accepts it when Eddie offers it to him. He was just so goddamn thirsty.

“Don’t worry, they’re all fine. They were just shaken up. I’ll radio the little gremlins and give ‘em the good news in a sec.” Eddie’s smile falters a little, seeming lost for words. Like he wants to say something, but can’t quite get it out.

Steve finishes swallowing his few, meager gulps of water before he asks, “What is it?”

“Don’t freak out—“ Eddie begins.

And, okay, that’s exactly the thing you tell someone before they freak the fuck out. Steve’s stomach is subject to a growing, sluggish panic. “What? Dude, tell me—“

“It’s your hair.” Eddie seems genuinely pained at having to deliver this crushing of a blow to Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

Steve can hear the beeping from the monitors he’s hooked up to begin to pick up speed as his heart begins racing. “My hair?”

“It’s okay! It’s okay, it’ll grow back! They just had to take a little bit off where the stitches went, you can hardest notice it—well, that’s a fucking lie, you could spot that landing strip from space—but I think if you part it to the other side it won’t look so… y’know.”

“No, dude, I don’t know.” Steve says, eyes wide, brows pinched.

“Like a drunk toddler took a pair of rusty kitchen shears to your mop.” Eddie says, huffing out a nervous sort of laugh.

Steve groans, half due to the bastardization that’s happened to his favorite feature, and half due to the migraine that’s looming on his horizon.

“You’re still pretty, Stevie, don’t worry.” Eddie grins, eyebrows raised, like he’s trying to be cute or something.

That weirdest part is, it’s kind of working.

Steve must have hit his head really, really hard.

The doctors eventually come in and perform all sorts of tests, and he tries his best to comply with them and jump through whatever hoops they make him jump through. He just wants to get the hell out of this hospital bed.

Unfortunately for him, Steve hadn’t exactly aced any of the tests.

In fact, he had failed most of them pretty fucking dismally. He couldn’t remember the date, who the president was, where he lived, couldn’t say the alphabet backwards… although, who the fuck can do that? He stands by that failing grade.

A couple of CAT scans later and it’s clear that Steve’s brain got smacked around a little more than they had originally thought.

Among a pile of other stuff, the thing that sticks out the most to Steve is his diagnosis of something called short term amnesia. They explain it like the past 2 to 3 years has just been wiped from his brain. The last clear thing he really remembers is getting the shit beat out of him by Billy, and then it all sort of gets jumbled. Fragmented. The doctors explain that this is pretty typical for head trauma patients.

He’s a head trauma patient, now.

It’s normal for memories of trauma to link, creating spiderwebs throughout your brain.

Which, that’s great. So when he gets beat up again, there’s always a chance his brain will try and erase his easy, happy years and revert back to a trauma default. Really helpful brain, thank you.

And the thing that sucks the most is that his years after the Billy beat down sound pretty great. Traumatizing, sure, but great. Once the Upside Down shit was locked up, with every scary nightmare fuel monster inside of it, life in Hawkins didn’t sound all that terrible.

He lived with Robin, who’s his best friend, (his ‘platonic soulmate’ even, as she explains it), he’s working a retail job, (also with Robin), and coaches the high school basketball team during the evenings. He’d even been talking with Hopper about joining the force.

Well, he was. Now he’s more or less useless, working full time at re-learning his life, along with a couple of fine motor skills that got glitchy after the fall.

And then there’s Eddie.

Eddie, who’s apparently also his best friend, only their soulmate link isn’t platonic at all.

The strange and weirdly exciting reality was that Steve Harrington had woken up from his 3-day medically induced coma with not only a full fledged relationship, but a boyfriend.

It’s a lot to digest, and part of him still doesn’t even know how to process it, but hearing the stories being told around him, seeing how Eddie is practically living in his and Robin’s two-bedroom apartment, and just… the way Eddie looks at him?

It’s with love—Steve can see it. Feel it. Eddie’s practically vibrating with it.

What’s even crazier is that when Steve looks at Eddie, he feels the exact same way.

It’s like looking at the stars. Steve’s heart skips a beat when those dark eyes of hit him, and Steve wants nothing more than to make Eddie smile—no, better than that, to make him laugh, just so he can watch Eddie’s adam’s apple bob up and down and hear that manic, unhinged cackle. It’s downright delightful. Steve loves being in relationships like this, where it’s all consuming.

Steve may not have the memories of falling in love with Eddie, but he has all the feelings.

No one talks about it with Steve, of course. Maybe they think it’s going to be too heavy for him to process that he’s into dudes now, but Steve isn’t a big dumb baby. Sure, he’s got a pretty severe brain injury, and yeah, alright, it takes him a minute to remember people’s names sometimes, and he has a harder time controlling his emotions, but he isn’t a complete invalid. Only a little bit of one. He’s working on it, dammit.

And Eddie is so painfully, frustratingly patient with him. He never pushes. He’s clearly letting Steve retrieve his memories before he makes a move, because despite his whole outward appearance, Eddie Munson is a goddamn gentleman. He never so much as reaches for Steve’s hands, but Steve can tell by the way their pinkies graze when they watch movies late at night that he wants to.

Steve can tell by the way Eddie teases him, the way he’s there with him through his recovery, that he doesn’t ever make Steve feel stupid when he asks the same questions over and over again, when he cries at the drop of a hat or when he gets sort of confused about the lay out of his apartment—he doesn’t care about that of that.

Because he’s in love with Steve. It’s so painfully romantic, it brings a painful lump to Steve’s throat every time he thinks too much about it.

The two of them are driving to one of Steve’s therapy sessions, Eddie in the driver's seat, Steve in the passengers, listening to a low racket of some kind of heavy metal music. Eddie always keeps the volume low now, for Steve.

He’s just been so intensely good about everything that Steve needs to try and do something good for Eddie in return. He needs Eddie to know that there’s a light at the end of this tunnel that they’re both currently lost in.

“I’m sorry about this, y’know.” Steve says when they finally pull up the building that has ‘Brain Injury Recover Center’ written on the front. So all the boys and girls with scrambled eggs for brains know where to converge.

“Don’t worry about it, man. I work the evening shifts, remember? My days are free.” Eddie explains, and Steve wonders if he’s had to be told this bit of information a couple of times now. Sometimes it takes a few times before something sticks to his brain now. His short term memory is still majorly flighty. But no, Steve remembers that Eddie bartends at a local bowling alley most evenings. He’s gone a few times. Not to bowl, of course—too much hand eye coordination involved—but just to hang out with Eddie. He’s pretty decent at Ms. Pac-Man though.

Steve shakes his head. He knows his mind must have wandered because there’s been a lull where no one’s spoken. Eddie never seems to care about that though. “I don’t mean about the drive. I was talking about… y’know.”

“Wha’dy’mean?” Eddie mumbles as he backs into his parking space, hand on the back of Steve’s headrest.

Steve sighs and decides to just come out and say it: “I mean having your boyfriend forget everything about you and your relationship. I just… that must be really tough.”

Everything in Eddie Munson comes to a jarring halt, hand frozen over where he’s turned to ignition off.

It’s sort of unnerving—Eddie is always moving, fidgeting. Damn near bouncing off the walls. But now it’s like someone hit the poor guy with a freeze ray gun.

Steve chuckles softly as he reaches out and touches Eddie’s arm, giving him a playful jostle, to loosen him up a little, “it’s okay, Eddie. I know. You don’t have to keep going easy on me. I’m gay! Or, bi-sexual. Whatever.” Steve shrugs, “see? Not falling apart. I can handle being in love with another dude. You don’t need to keep babying me.”

The side of Eddie’s mouth twitches into a downturned smile that he seems to be trying to hide.

“I know, I know. Not just any dude.” Steve rolls his eyes, a smile still firmly on his face. He takes Eddie’s hand from the steering wheel, and Eddie seems to watch it go in a detached sort of awe. Steve wonders if Eddie’s proud of him for being so cool with it all. “In love with you.”

“Steve, I don’t think—

“Wait, just let me finish.” Steve asks, and Eddie blinks and works on closing his mouth. Knows it’s important to let Steve get his thoughts out quickly, lest they be lost to the giant black hole inside of his beat-up brain now. “I know that I don’t remember any of the important stuff with us. Our first date, or our first kiss or, y’know, any of our other first firsts. So maybe it feels like you’re cheating on the old Steve with me? But… Eddie, I know it’s crazy but even though my brain forgot all of the specifics; my heart didn’t. I look at you, and it’s all there. I’m still so into you, dude. I can feel it, even though I don’t remember how I got here. I’m in l—“

“Steve! Stevestevesteve wait, holy shit—!” Eddie’s eyes snap up from his intense stare at the place where their hands are linked. “Steve—”

“Yeah?” Steve prompts when Eddie doesn’t seem to be able to find the words. He runs his thumb gently over Eddie’s knuckles. It feels so nice to finally be able to hold his hand again. They fit together so well, and Steve wonders briefly if it’s some kind of muscle memory.

Eddie opens his mouth a few more times before he remembers how to make the words come out.

“Steve. Buddy. We’re… we’re not dating.”

Steve’s face falls, and he can feel a lump form in his throat, but he keeps a firm hold of Eddie’s warm hand in his own. “Yeah, I know, I know. We haven’t had any time to be a couple. And it’s probably been torture for you, man. You’re so busy taking care of me and making sure I don’t freak out over everything that you’ve clearly been neglecting your own hierarchy of needs.”

Eddie raises a brow.

Steve chuckles, “Shut up. It’s a therapy term.”

Eddie laughs in his throat. “Steve, you gotta slow down and listen to me.”

He turns his shoulders so that he’s fully facing Steve while he reaches his free hand over and tugs at one of his earlobes. “Got your hearing ears on?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he nods just the same.

“We… we weren’t dating before your accident,” Eddie speaks slowly, his voice warm, gentle. “Hell, I didn’t even know you were, y’know, into dudes like that. Much less me.”

Something throbs dully behind Steve’s eyes. It’s the start of a migraine—the one that makes it hard to process much of anything. Steve squints, trying to make sense of what Eddie’s saying. “…you’re not my boyfriend?”

Eddie shakes his head very, very slowly. “No.”

Steve snatches his hand back like he’s only just now noticed how burning hot Eddie’s hand is.

He settles back in his seat, staring out the front window. The sounds from the outside world are muffled, and everything feels far away and sort of… Made up. Just like everything he’d imagined was going on between him and Eddie. Not real.

He feels painfully detached from reality. Unmoored. Maybe this was the disassociation thing the doctor mentioned might happen…

“Are you sure?” Steve asks, risking another glance over to Eddie, who hasn’t taken his eyes off him for a second.

“Pretty fuckin’ sure.” Eddie snorts.

“Oh, God. This is… I’m—sorry. I’m so stupid. Fuck, I gotta—“ Steve suddenly attacks the door handle with a clumsy fury that has his hand fumbling with the handle for way too long. Fucking busted up, bruised as fuck fucking brain-!

“Steve, it’s okay, dude,” Eddie says from behind Steve, but that’s easy for him to say; he didn’t just humiliate himself in front of his not-boyfriend, definitely-crush, possibly ex-friend—“Steve, wait!”

Steve flees the van on unsteady feet, not daring to look back.

[softcenteregg]

// I'm on the hunt, I'm after you //