a/n sorry guys it's been so long since i posted for this series, and sorry this chapter isn't that eventful. i'm working on the next chapter rn, and it's a bit more filled with events and dialogue, so I hope you enjoy!
The living room of Avengers Tower was a war zone long before your dad, uncles, and aunts were fighting universal entities. Your textbooks were scattered across the coffee table and on the carpet, flipped across different chapters. Your calculator was shoved between a couch cushion.
You were staring at your laptop, hoping the answer would magically come to you. Biting your nail, you read aloud from the screen. “Thought-provoking. Dr. Gayle said my argument is thought-provoking yet requires further development.”
You looked up, “What does that even mean?”
Kate glanced over her economics worksheet, which she had set upside down. “It means Dr. Gayle hates you.”
“She does not hate me!”
“Definitely does.”
Val chuckled from the opposite couch, editing a documentary from her film study class. “You got a ninety-five.”
“What? There is just no way you’re complaining about a ninety-five.”
“It should’ve been a hundred.”
Thor storms through the living room, heading immediately to the pantry. “Hundred of what?”
“My grade in Dr. Gayle’s class.”
Thor replied as if he knew the teacher himself, “Ah, a dangerous pursuit.” After grabbing his snack, he walked away, back to wherever he came from.
Ned’s voice came from Peter’s phone, “Did Thor just walk in?”
“Yeah,” Peter replied, adjusting his reading glasses.
“God, you’re so lucky.”
Peter just shrugged, running his fingers along the formula sheet. You dropped your head against the back of the couch. Peter sat cross-legged on the rug, chemistry notes scattered around. The sleeves of his Henley were pushed to his elbows.
Peter had changed since you first met him, but not dramatically. He still tucked his hands into his pockets when he was nervous, apologized too often, but at least now he looked at ease at the tower.
FRIDAY’s voice interrupted your thought process. “Mr. Stark, an emergency response has been requested downtown.”
Dad appeared from down the hall. “What we got, FRIDAY?”
“Structural instability on a commercial building following an explosion in Midtown.”
The room went quiet, and Steve emerged. Natasha was already pulling her hair back, and Clint was already running to get his arrows.
Dad walked over to the couch with purpose, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Keep the tower intact, yeah? You know you can always contact FRIDAY if–”
“Yes, Dad, I know.”
He looked over to Peter now, “Heading home, kid?”
Peter’s heart dropped, “Uh...”
“Peter can stay,” you answered before he had the chance.
Your father’s expression remained neutral, “Cool. Now, everybody move.”
The room emptied nearly immediately. Within minutes, the tower was silent.
“Think everyone's alright?”
“They always are,” Kate said.
Val shut her laptop. “They’re superheroes. My parents and uncles are always gone like this, too.”
Peter attempted to regulate his breathing. He stood up. “I should head home. I’m worried Aunt May will think something crazy,” he chuckled. “I’ll call you later, Ned,” he said as he hung up the phone.
“Are you sure?” you asked, looking into his eyes.
“Yeah,” he offered a smile of reassurance.
“I’ll see you guys later.”
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Spiderman hit the pavement, hard enough to make the concrete crackle. The pain bloomed through his side, and his suit tightened automatically.
“Kid?” Tony asked through the comms. “Still with us?”
Peter forced himself upright. “Yeah.”
“You tryna convince yourself or me?”
“I got thrown at a bus stop, sir.”
"..Fair.”
The villains had been taken care of; the NYPD arrived. People were safe, and everything was fine. Except Peter had promised you he would see you later.
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It was about two hours later when you heard the tower doors open. You looked up from your night, seeing a limping Peter enter. “What the hell happened?”
“Ned and I went skating,” he replied, wincing at every step he took.
“You don’t skate,” you said skeptically.
“We wanted to try something new,” he said as he grabbed his side, the skin pulsing underneath his grip.
You raised a brow before walking over to him. “Don’t try anything new again. Now sit.”
“I’m fine, really–”
“Sit, Peter,” you instructed, pointing at the bar countertop.
Peter was always obedient, and that was not going to stop now. He sat right where you said.
You went to get the first-aid kit from the clinic.
Kate chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Peter asked.
“Your inability to lie.”
Val leaned over, head resting on Kate’s shoulder. “Did Ned survive?”
“What?” Peter croaked out, a bit louder than intended.
“Skating, I mean.” Val clarified.
“Oh, yeah. He’s fine.”
You returned with a small first-aid kit and set it on the counter. You pulled the freezer door open to grab an ice pack.
Peter nearly passed out, yet still had enough pride to say, “You don’t have to do any–”
“You hit your head?”
“No.”
“Dizziness? Nausea?”
“No.”
You propped his knee up on the other stool, pushing it forward. “May I?”
Peter was at a loss for words, so he just nodded. You examined the gash carefully. “You’re an idiot.”
“I’ll take that.”
“Were you wearing pads?”
“... No.”
“Oh my days,” you sighed, gripping his knee tighter. A cackle could be heard from the couch.
You shook your head and cleaned the cut anyway. “What?”
Kate snorted, “You want him to look like a geek?”
“Looking like a geek wouldn’t have me cleaning your knee.” You acted as if you were mad, but you were just upset he hurt himself so stupidly.
All three shut up after that. You pressed the alcohol-soaked cotton swab to disinfect the area, making him wince. “Boys just wake up and think they’re invincible, don't they?”
“Don't know if it's gender specific.”
"Absolutely is.”
You wrapped the joint and pressed ice against it. Peter looked down at your hands, then at the concentration on your face, as well as the irritation.
Your hand went to his cheek, grabbing it to look over his pale face once more. “You need to be more careful.”
“I’ll try,” he said, swallowing a deep gulp.
“Good,” you smiled at him.
Tony walked in ten minutes later, taking a good look at Peter, then you, then Peter.
“What happened to you?”
You sighed, shaking your head. You were sure Dad was going to laugh at Peter’s terrible abilities just as hard as your two best friends were. “Peter tried skateboarding without protective gear.”
“Did he now?” He quirked his brow.
Peter wished Dr. Strange would open a portal below him, swallowing up his embarrassment and lies.
“Yep, now I’m the one taking care of him.”
“Again, I’m fine!”
“Seems unlike you, kid,” Dad said, silently hinting at something you couldn’t put your finger on.
Peter cleared his throat. Dad loosened his tie and started speaking once more, “Speaking of bad decisions, Kenjiro’s coming by tomorrow.”
Your eyes brightened. “What? Really?”
“He’s bringing Akira as well,” Tony finished before he left.
Peter looked up at you. “Who’s Akira?”
Akira was Kenjiro’s grandson and one of your childhood best friends. Although Kenjiro and his kids mainly lived in Japan, they sent Akira as well as his siblings to go to school in the States. On school breaks, Tony would take Akira into the tower, or you’d be sent to whichever house he resided at the moment. You were close as ever until he moved to New Hampshire to go to Dartmouth.
Kate was patting Val’s head, urging her to shut her eyes and rest for a mere moment. “Akira’s her childhood best friend. He moved two years ago to go to Dartmouth, but he visits here and Tokyo sometimes.”
You grinned, rubbing circles around Peter’s knee. “Maybe he’ll finally tell me some good news about school.”
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You went to take a shower, leaving the three to themselves in the living room.
“So... tell me more about Akira. I have a feeling I’m going to hear a lot about him here.”
“Well, he's in the same genre as the rest of us, except it’s more his grandfather who’s famous. He’s in college, so he rarely has time to see her. He’s actually quite cute,” Kate explained.
Val hummed against her, “You? Calling a guy cute?” That’s a new one.”
Kate rolled her eyes but continued, “I can show you his Instagram to show what you’re up against.”
That caught Peter off guard. “Oh, well–”
“Calm down, I don’t mean like that. I mean, he’s quite a hard personality to not pay attention to.”
“Right.”
Kate scrolled for a moment before tossing her phone to Peter, which he promptly caught.
“I can tell he’s quite the, uh, dude,” Peter replied, throwing the phone back.
“Yeah, he’s hot, but you know who’s cuter?” Val said, finally getting up from Kate, kneeling on the couch. “Azari T’challa.”
Kate just stuck her arm out and pushed Val, making her fall back on her bottom. “Rude. Anyways, I just wouldn’t get between her and Akira. He’s quite protective of her. And a lot of other women...” She said the last sentence in more of a whisper.
“Noted. Think he’ll like me?”
“If you’re lucky,” Kate answered.
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Dinner was not originally part of the plan, or at least as far as you were aware. By 6:30, you traded your Stark Industries sweatsuit for a silk dress while FRIDAY was reminding you that the Fujikawas would be here in fifteen minutes.
The restaurant Dad chose was tucked away in the back of Manhattan. It was covered in dark wood and polished stone. The warm amber lighting reflected across the podium. It smelled of century-old and century old wine.
Peter refused to come, yet a single plea from you got him adjusting his sleeves to the nicest button-downest button down you lent him. He insisted that he did not need to intrude on a business and reunion dinner, but you thought Peter could use a couple new connections.
Dad looked up from his phone, “You’ve been in and out of the tower and around my daughter for months. Intrusion is no longer a concept here, kid.” Then, he went back to answering his infinite emails.
Peter now sat across from you, stiff as a board, trying not to be aware of the fact that he was surrounded by billionaires. Sure, he stopped noticing marble floors and buildings with over a hundred floors after his tenth time in the tower, but this was different.
At dinner, the conversation flowed around international and domestic partnership expansions, stock markets, and many other things few people in the world could replicate.
Kenjiro spoke deliberately, his voice confident due to his decades' worth of experience. Tony interrupted with his dry jokes and ideas that would take years to complete. Neither party was bothered by their habits.
You listened more than you spoke, contributing now and then. Kenjiro regarded your follow-up questions and took you seriously rather than being dismissive like Dad’s other businessmen.
Peter watched in pride. It made something warm beneath his ribs, and he wasn’t really sure why.
Akira arrived shortly after the rest of the group did. Fashionably late per usual. His hair was perfectly slicked back, his suit pressed and tailored perfectly to his lean shape. His watch that Peter suspected cost more than the entire apartment building he lived in back in Queens.
Akira walked in as if he owned the place, which Peter was sure he could. You stood up fast, nearly knocking your chair over. “Oh, my god.”
Akira blinked, his long lashes fluttering. “You cut your hair,” he said, reaching out to twirl a bit between his nimble fingers before pulling you into a hug.
“You noticed that first?” you asked, walking over to the table with him.
“You had a couple more inches last time I saw you,” Akira laughed.
You both laughed, and it softened the sharpness Peter had assumed he had.
Dinner settled into an easy flow soon after. You and Akira were on an odd middle ground Peter was lost about. It wasn’t romantic nor distant, but comfortable.
Your stories with each other were fragments of childhood memories. Peter tried putting some of it together, but they were too scattered. Hiding under tables while Kenjiro and Tony negotiated deals, arguments over toys, naps in escalators.
Kenjiro laughed softly into his drink, happy to see his grandson and his adoptive granddaughter having a great time. Tony pinched his nose, not seeming to remember how much they chatter.
Peter was staring into his glass. A lump in his throat grew, not just because of what you two were saying, but how it was said. There were no explanations for the conversation. You tapped into small talk with Peter now and then, but you were stolen away by your old childhood friend.
You leaned over to steal a strawberry off Akira’s dessert plate without asking, making him scoff before sliding the rest to you. “You still steal my sweets?”
“You still let me,” you grinned, mouth full of whipped cream.
Peter peered down at his untouched creme brulee, the twisting feeling in his stomach intensifying. The flamed sugar wasn’t the only thing starting to crack. Akira was not arrogant nor cruel. If anything, he was the opposite. He was sweet and friendly, even talking about sports with Peter as if they’d been friends just as long.
Peter hated himself for feeling threatened by him. He couldn't point to anything specific, but only the accumulation of small things.
“You okay?” you asked, nudging your shoulder against his.
Peter looked up, and your expressions shifted. It was laced with more curiosity and concern. “You’ve been quiet.”
He managed a small smile, “I’m fine.”
You studied him for a moment, seeing if accepting his answer was the right thing to do. You folded his collar back a bit and flattened the fabric before moving on.
Outside the restaurant windows, Manhattan glowed beneath the night. Peter found himself watching you again and how you moved between both worlds with ease. One of his best friends was a stark heiress. The person who patched up a hero without a single clue.
He watched the edges of your lips turn up as you listened intently to everyone around you, and how the glow of the warm lights made the body oil on your skin stunning. Peter’s cheeks warmed, making him glance down at the folded napkin in his lap. He wasn’t jealous, or at least he thought.
By the time dinner was over, the night was fully settled. Tony and Kenjiro remained near the entrance and were discussing schedules. You stood beside Peter waiting for the car, while Akira was a couple of feet away, having a smoke break.
You bounced on your heels, holding your coat jacket. “You sure you're okay?” you asked quietly.
“Yeah.”
“You seem tired.”
Peter’s low, brown eyes looked over at you. “Ever feel like everyone else already knows the rules?”
You hummed, “Not sure, sometimes.”
The streetlights reflected on the sidewalk below you.
“I think most people just pretend they know what they're doing with their life.”
Peter softly laughed, “You really think so?”
“I know so,” you said, poking his arm. “You survived dinner with old businessmen. You can mark that off your bucket list.”
He smiled again, despite himself. But he glanced over towards Akira standing beside Kenjiro, his posture relaxed. His hair remained gelled to perfection. Peter couldn’t shake the thought in the back of his mind.
You weren't his. Not a single bit. But maybe in some way, he was yours.
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Free period Fridays were the best part of the week. Forty-five minutes of doing whatever you want in your (or anyone else’s) homeroom was bliss. Some would take a much-needed nap, take the time to study, do the homework due the next period, or just hang out. Teachers really gave up on pretending it was meant for studying.
You’d stop by the library sometimes to frantically finish your essay that you had all week to complete while everyone migrated to the common area with coffee. Peter was usually at the table near the windows. Ned was slouching in a chair across from him, head in his hand.
“You look terrible,” Kate noted, setting down her bag.
“Good morning to you too,” Ned said, scrolling on his laptop.
“Peter, you’ve had that look all week.”
“What look?” His brows now furrowed, moving his backpack so she could sit.
“I don’t know, but you should fix it. Are you getting enough sleep? Do I need to ask one of the maids to fix your bed at the tower?” She joked, a hefty laugh coming from her.
“I’m alright, really. Just school.”
Val snorted from beside, a ballet flat propped up on the table. “He always looks like that.”
“‘S been worse,” Ned said, glancing up.
The conversation dissolved into overlapping arguments and old tales until Peter rubbed the back of his neck.
“So...”
They all quieted, awaiting whatever Peter had to say. Kate smiled slowly.
“No.”
“What?”
“No.”
Peter gasped, “I haven’t even asked anything yet!”
“You were about to.”
Ned leaned forward. “What do you want to know about Akira?”
“How do you know him?”
“Did some digging,” he said before shutting the lid of his laptop.
“You’re not subtle,” Val said, nearly wincing.
Kate jumped in, “If you want to know if he’s secretly evil, there are easier ways.”
Peter paused. “I’m not trying to find out if he's evil or not.”
“.. .Do you think he’s evil?”
“No!” Peter exclaimed. “I just.. Don’t know.”
Val shut off her iPad. “What don't you know?”
Peter hesitated, scared to even ask such a thing. “They both have a history.”
Ned shrugged, “I mean yeah, they’ve known each other forever.”
“They’re also both obscenely rich and products of their family's wealth,” Val said, as if she wasn’t the same.
Peter looked down at the notebook on the oak table. “I imagine that’s bonding.”
“They are close,” Kate carefully said.
“But she’s close with a lot of people.”
“Not helpful,” Peter muttered.
Val reached into her bag to get her snack. “Do you want me to say they're secretly in love so you can get over it quicker?” she asked dryly.
“No, not at all,” Peter sighed. He buried his face into his hands. “This is why I don't tell you guys anything.”
“You haven’t said anything, actually,” Ned pointed out.
Kate leaned back in her chair. “For what it’s worth, if she actually liked Akira like that.. We would know.”
Before Peter could speak his mind, someone slid into the empty chair beside him.
“We would know what?”
You balanced an iced coffee in one hand while you had your iPad in the other. “Hello?”
Nobody answered, your eyes narrowing. “What did I miss?”
Before anyone said anything, Val squealed out, “Peter’s investigating Akira!”
“Valeria!” he hissed, putting his face in his hands once more.
You blinked at Peter, then laughed. “You thought Akira was mysterious? He posts his entire life on social media.”
“Well, that still doesn’t tell us enough,” Peter rebutted, making Ned nod.
You sighed, baffled that they would even assume so. “He cried when he was thirteen because they forgot his ketchup with his chicken nuggets. He hates public speaking. He has failed his driver’s lesson twice.”
Peter blinked, “Seriously?”
“He backed into Kenjiro's car. Anyways, the point I'm trying to make is that he’s not everything he seems.”
Kate faked a yawn, tired of hearing about Peter’s secret rival. “Anyways,” she pulled out her phone, “heard about Cassie’s party tonight?”
“Cassie’s throwing?” Your eyes lit up.
“But I said I was going to edit tonight,” Val groaned into Kate’s shoulder.
“You can do that tomorrow. We are all going, yes?”
Multiple yeses went around the table, until we got to Peter.
“We are?”
You looked offended at him. “You think you’re missing out on Scott Lang’s sponsored suburban dumpster fire?”
Ned cackled, “She’s been banned from hosting since New Year's.”
Peter was scared to even ask, “What happened at New Year's? I was in Queens.”
You shook the ice in your coffee, "Best you don't know.”
“You know what?” Kate stood up, slinging her bag across her shoulder. “I'm ready for tonight.”
Everyone agreed.
Friday sunlight filtered through the stained glass of the library, a colorful reflection illuminating across the library. The red and blues caught on the edge of your bracelet as you put your hand on Peter's shoulder.
“Cassie’s starts at nine. You’ll be there.”
Peter stammered, “I don’t really–”
“You do. That’s how we met, remember?”
Peter swallowed thickly, something fluttering uncomfortably in his chest.
You looked back down at your phone. “Oh. Akira texted me.”
Summary : Peter Parker and Tony Starks daughter have been friends forever, but somehow hangouts turn into dates and things take a change.
Warning : mentions of y/n, cursing
Part : 1, 2, 3
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Ynstarklette ♫ : Talk Too Much by COIN
stayin up studying 🙃
Liked by mjones, peterparker, tonystark and 120,488 others
Buckybarnes : glad you guys were quiet
↳ ynstarklette : um we always are?!
steverogers : keep working hard kid 🫡
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↳ ynstarklette : 🫡
User1 : um mystery kid again??
User2 : wow she actually study’s?
↳ user4 : um duhh you tea towel ??
Legomanned : imagine having to study.
↳ ynstarklette : the block button looks magnificent right now 🙂
User5 : wow Parker has game??
↳ user8 : who tf is Parker?
mjones : nice.
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User10 : loser.
↳ user9 : ??
User12 : queen posted again
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tonystark : 🩷
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Pepper.p : nice work hun 😘
↳ ynstarklette : thanks mom 🫶🏼
User13 : who is this kid????
User15 : just kiss atp
₊˚⊹ ᰔ
You and Peter were supposed to be studying, Mrs.Manual, your science teacher, giving you a both a mountain of homework that was supposed to be complete that same week.
“Come on Pete, can we take a break? It been 2 hours.” You whined, throwing your pencil across the room with a huff.
“Just two more pages, come on we got this.” Peter insisted, turning his attention from the work in-front of him to you, shaking his head as he does so.
“Do you want a bad grade?”
That made you roll your eyes, retrieving the pencil that you threw across the room to do the rest of the work.
“Fine. Hurry up and show me what to do.” You replied, an obvious tone in your voice, Peter trying so hard to not laugh at the way you’re acting currently.
You placed your arm on the desk to rest, but was surprised with a warm sensation, realizing that Peter’s arm was touching yours, but both of you did nothing to pull away.
Of course peter noticed as well, trying so hard to act like he didn’t feel the way your arm pressed against his.
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Few days later :
Ynstarklette ♫ : Wonderwall by Oasis
movie theater hang outs are the best :)
Liked by peterparker, mjones, Wanda and 129,848 others
peterparker : had a blast :)
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mjones : wow first slide is amazing
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User1 : queen
User2 : it’s so obviously that Peter guy
↳ user6 : no seriously
tonystark : is that why you asked me for 20$?
↳ ynstarklette : yes 🩷
Pepper.p : my beautiful daughter 🫶🏼
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May : looking amazing sweetie!
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↳ ynstarklette : thank you May 🩷🙂↕️
User8 : second slide??
User10 : love love love
User3 : she’s so obviously trying to give us hints
Authors note : school has had me working hard lately. One project due wensday and so much homework has me in a chokehold…. Of course, next part soon 🩷🫶🏼
Your apartment's quiet as the evening settles in. You try to read, then try to clean, distracting yourself with anything that isn't him, but everything feels too still, even now.
You're halfway through folding a blanket when the front desk calls informing you that a breathless Rafe Cameron is here to see you. You tell them to send him up, and suddenly you're standing there, waiting, pulse hammering in your ears.
You hear him before you see him, hurried footsteps, uneven breathing, but unmistakably him. And you open the door.
Rafe stands there, hair messy, chest rising and falling like he ran the whole way, eyes wide and unsettled. He doesn't wait for you to speak.
"I can't—" He swallows. "I can't leave like that."
You don't move. You just watch him, every thought you had about why he might be here thrown out the window, replaced by the sharp, dizzy rush of seeing him like this.
He steps forward.
"I should've said something this morning," he says quietly. "I should've stayed. I should've—" His voice breaks off. "I just... I need to talk to you."
You step aside to let him in. He doesn't go far, just inside the doorway, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him, far enough that he's giving you space.
For a moment, neither of you speaks.
Then he does.
"It wasn't fake for me," he says quietly. "Not that night. Not ever."
He runs a hand over his buzzcut, pacing once, twice, like he's trying to find the right words and failing... miserably. Then he stops in front of you. "I noticed you the first day you walked into the paddock," he says. "Not in some creepy way," he lets out a soft nervous laugh, "I mean... you were you. And I didn't stand a chance."
Your chest tightens.
"So when you said you were engaged that night," he continues, voice cracking, "I didn't think. I just stepped in. Because I wanted—" He swallows. "I wanted it to be me."
You can't breathe, so you stay frozen, hanging onto every word.
"The rookies knew," he says with a soft, helpless laugh. "They weren't surprised we were together. They were surprised I hurt you. Because I've loved you from afar for so long that the idea of raising my voice at you—" His face twists. "I hated myself the second the words left my mouth."
He steps closer, slow, careful.
"I was fucking terrified," he admits. "Not of you. Of me. Of turning into him."
Your stomach drops.
"Ward was..." he takes a deep breath. "He was emotionally abusive. Demanding. Cruel. He expected perfection, anything less and... He made me into the man I am now and drove my mother away because of it. I haven't seen her since. I wouldn't even know where to start looking."
You reach for his hand.
"When I yelled at you," he says, voice barely above a whisper, "I saw her. I saw him. I saw everything I swore I'd never be. And I thought—" His voice breaks. "I thought I'd lost you."
You squeeze his hand three times.
He squeezes back.
"I race like I have something to prove," he says. "Aggressive, sharp, pushing too hard. But never dangerous. Not until that day. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
You lift your free hand to his cheek, and he leans into it like he's starving.
"I don’t have anything to prove anymore," he says. "Not to him. Not to anyone. I put in a block last week, Ward can't enter the paddock again. I can't have him around the people I love."
Your thumb brushes his cheekbone.
"I've been thinking about finding my mother," he says. "About changing my racing nationality. Because I might be a Cameron, but I'm not just a Cameron."
Your eyes sting.
"And marrying you," he says, voice steady now, "was the best fucking thing I've ever done. Racing lets everything melt away, but being with you—" He shakes his head. "I don't have to escape anymore, I can just be me."
You swallow hard.
"I'm glad you stepped in," you say softly. "That night. I'm glad it was you and not some rich arsehole."
He chuckles, warm and quiet, eyes closing.
"You know I still am a rich arsehole."
"I know. But so am I."
He smiles, content.
"I thought I was falling in love with you," you continue. "But now I know I am. Completely. I'm yours."
"You know about my family," you say. "How they treated me like shit. I... at first I agreed to the therapy as a point to prove, but it's helped me work through some of it. There's a lot more to go, but one of the things that came up was how I always ran before things got real because I was scared they'd find out I wasn't worth staying for, like my parents did."
His grip tightens.
"But I don't want to run from you," you whisper. "I was terrified of falling in love. And yes, I'm still so fucking scared, and avoidant. But I want to work through that with you. I need space sometimes, but that doesn't mean I'm leaving. I don't want to leave this. You."
His forehead drops to yours.
"I'm lucky to be married to you," you say. "And I wouldn't mind doing it for real. Someday."
"Someday."
You sit together, knees touching, hands intertwined, his thumb brushing your knuckles, his fingers tracing the ring on your hand, and for the first time since the fight, everything feels... good. Real.
DREW'S NOTES... me screaming at them to just kiss and realising oh wait- i'm the author
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Your apartment's quiet as the evening settles in. You try to read, then try to clean, distracting yourself with anything that isn't him, but everything feels too still, even now.
You're halfway through folding a blanket when the front desk calls informing you that a breathless Rafe Cameron is here to see you. You tell them to send him up, and suddenly you're standing there, waiting, pulse hammering in your ears.
You hear him before you see him, hurried footsteps, uneven breathing, but unmistakably him. And you open the door.
Rafe stands there, hair messy, chest rising and falling like he ran the whole way, eyes wide and unsettled. He doesn't wait for you to speak.
"I can't—" He swallows. "I can't leave like that."
You don't move. You just watch him, every thought you had about why he might be here thrown out the window, replaced by the sharp, dizzy rush of seeing him like this.
He steps forward.
"I should've said something this morning," he says quietly. "I should've stayed. I should've—" His voice breaks off. "I just... I need to talk to you."
You step aside to let him in. He doesn't go far, just inside the doorway, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him, far enough that he's giving you space.
For a moment, neither of you speaks.
Then he does.
"It wasn't fake for me," he says quietly. "Not that night. Not ever."
He runs a hand over his buzzcut, pacing once, twice, like he's trying to find the right words and failing... miserably. Then he stops in front of you. "I noticed you the first day you walked into the paddock," he says. "Not in some creepy way," he lets out a soft nervous laugh, "I mean... you were you. And I didn't stand a chance."
Your chest tightens.
"So when you said you were engaged that night," he continues, voice cracking, "I didn't think. I just stepped in. Because I wanted—" He swallows. "I wanted it to be me."
You can't breathe, so you stay frozen, hanging onto every word.
"The rookies knew," he says with a soft, helpless laugh. "They weren't surprised we were together. They were surprised I hurt you. Because I've loved you from afar for so long that the idea of raising my voice at you—" His face twists. "I hated myself the second the words left my mouth."
He steps closer, slow, careful.
"I was fucking terrified," he admits. "Not of you. Of me. Of turning into him."
Your stomach drops.
"Ward was..." he takes a deep breath. "He was emotionally abusive. Demanding. Cruel. He expected perfection, anything less and... He made me into the man I am now and drove my mother away because of it. I haven't seen her since. I wouldn't even know where to start looking."
You reach for his hand.
"When I yelled at you," he says, voice barely above a whisper, "I saw her. I saw him. I saw everything I swore I'd never be. And I thought—" His voice breaks. "I thought I'd lost you."
You squeeze his hand three times.
He squeezes back.
"I race like I have something to prove," he says. "Aggressive, sharp, pushing too hard. But never dangerous. Not until that day. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
You lift your free hand to his cheek, and he leans into it like he's starving.
"I don’t have anything to prove anymore," he says. "Not to him. Not to anyone. I put in a block last week, Ward can't enter the paddock again. I can't have him around the people I love."
Your thumb brushes his cheekbone.
"I've been thinking about finding my mother," he says. "About changing my racing nationality. Because I might be a Cameron, but I'm not just a Cameron."
Your eyes sting.
"And marrying you," he says, voice steady now, "was the best fucking thing I've ever done. Racing lets everything melt away, but being with you—" He shakes his head. "I don't have to escape anymore, I can just be me."
You swallow hard.
"I'm glad you stepped in," you say softly. "That night. I'm glad it was you and not some rich arsehole."
He chuckles, warm and quiet, eyes closing.
"You know I still am a rich arsehole."
"I know. But so am I."
He smiles, content.
"I thought I was falling in love with you," you continue. "But now I know I am. Completely. I'm yours."
"You know about my family," you say. "How they treated me like shit. I... at first I agreed to the therapy as a point to prove, but it's helped me work through some of it. There's a lot more to go, but one of the things that came up was how I always ran before things got real because I was scared they'd find out I wasn't worth staying for, like my parents did."
His grip tightens.
"But I don't want to run from you," you whisper. "I was terrified of falling in love. And yes, I'm still so fucking scared, and avoidant. But I want to work through that with you. I need space sometimes, but that doesn't mean I'm leaving. I don't want to leave this. You."
His forehead drops to yours.
"I'm lucky to be married to you," you say. "And I wouldn't mind doing it for real. Someday."
"Someday."
You sit together, knees touching, hands intertwined, his thumb brushing your knuckles, his fingers tracing the ring on your hand, and for the first time since the fight, everything feels... good. Real.
DREW'S NOTES... me screaming at them to just kiss and realising oh wait- i'm the author
If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know. And, if you want to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts, which includes commenting &/ reblogging (credits to @zyafics).
Summary — If having a fairytale love story guaranteed a happy ending, then, uh, why are you and Rafe getting a divorce?
Content — angst, drama, marriage in crisis, hurt/comfort, brother's best friend, childhood friends to high school sweethearts to lovers to divorce.
Navigation — Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15
IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, if you want to be added to this specific taglist, let me know (but to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts).
Zya's Post-Notes — thank you so so so much to @7-deadly-cats for letting me use her graphics for the ending! everyone please go check out blurred lines; i'm so so in love with this smau!!
Summary : Peter Parker and Tony Starks daughter have been friends forever, but somehow hangouts turn into dates and things take a change.
Warning : mentions of y/n
Part : 1, 2
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Aunt mays apartment always has the same feeling, the perfect temperature and the smell of vanilla mixed with Peters cologne.
“Oh, hey y/n!” Aunt may says as she opens the door, making way for you to get inside.
“Hey may! Missed you.” You reply, hugging her and then making your way to Peter’s room, your legs automatically knowing where to go.
After a couple steps, you find yourself in front of Peter’s door, knocking on the wall before coming inside.
“Hey spider-boy, ready to build that Lego set?”
── .✦
ynstarklette ♫ : needs by Verzache
I’m the best Lego builder 😌
Liked by mjones, peterparker, tonystark and 200,489 others
peterparker : um the caption?? I am obviously?!!
↳ ynstarklette : 🤣🤣🤣
steverogers : glad you were home by 10.
↳ ynstarklette : am I still the hot topic?
↳ steverogers : yes.
mjones : guess we were forgotten.
Liked by creator
↳ ynstarklette : sorryyyyy
Legomanned : wow dude. Wow.
↳ ynstarklette : 🥲🥲🥲
User10 : her and this Peter dude must have smth going on.
User7 : hottie
User6 : she looks so much like her dad
↳ tonystark : I know right.
↳ user6 : ahh omg!!!
Wanda : that’s where you were?
Liked by creator
peterparker : wow I look so good in the last picture
↳ ynstarklette : did you have to comment twice?😭
User4 : shes literally living the dream life
Buckybarnes : so you guys couldn’t have hang out over here?
↳ ynstarklette : you guys spy 24/7
User1 : ateee
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At the dance :
Colored lights flashed on the ceiling and gym floor, the music playing being somewhat tolerable, Peter standing by the snack table, sipping on his punch not knowing what to do.
That was until he spot you, a smile creeping on his face, his hand’s subconsciously going to fix his hair.
“Uh hi Peter..!” You mumbled out, playing with the necklace that you just recently bought.
His eyes still on his punch he mumbled back as well, sounding something between the lines of “hey” and “hi”
“You look pretty today.”
You would be lying if you said that didn’t give you butterflies.
“Thank you Peter… you look handsome as well.” You replied with a smile, not realizing how the music started turning softer, the dance floor getting crowded with couples.
“I know I stand in line until I think you have the time to spend an evening with me~”
Peter rubbed his neck, pink immediately crawling up his neck, all of a sudden his punch became interesting.
“Uh….” He started, looking up from his drink and placing it down. You knew what he was about to ask.
“…you wanna…dance?”
That made you feel queasy.
“I would be lying if I said no.” You chuckled, nodding as you threw away your untouched nachos, grabbing his hand and dragging both of you to the dance floor.
His hands barely touched your waist, not knowing what to do.
“By saying something stupid like, ‘I love you’~”
“Can I uh, put my hands on your waist?” Peter asked, not knowing where to look.
You nodded as you put your hands around his neck, both of you failing to match the rhythm of the song.
“But then I think I’ll wait until the evening gets late and I’m alone with you.~”
── .✦
ynstarklette ♫ : punkrocker ( ft. Iggy pop) by Teddybears
homecoming ;)
Liked by mjones, pepper.p, Legomanned and 272,486 others
mjones : wow you guys weren’t kidding
User2 : second slide?!!!
peterparker : had fun! :)
Liked by creator
tonystark : wow. Why didn’t I know of this?
↳ ynstarklette : so about that
pepper.p : beautiful as always baby 🩷
Liked by creator
User4 : she’s THAT girl
User8 : queen of nyc
steverogers : kiddo you’re giving your dad a heart attack
↳ ynstarklette : he’s exaggerating
Legomanned : dude.
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Wanda : love the hair 😌
Liked by creator
↳ ynstarklette : I 🩷 you :)
User12 : who is this Peter guy???
User13 : this weird…
Buckybarnes : woah who is the mystery man?
User23 : this sussy…
User6 : NOBODY saw who it was???
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Authors note : sorry for being inactive 🙃 school just started and it’s rough out here 🥲part 3 tmrw or Friday 🩷
summary: Walking through the upside down, Steve has a bit of his own realization about himself. Dustin begins to try and figure out why Dove is being contacted by Vecna and the gang tries to break out of the upside down.
warnings: Angst, Suicidal ideas, negative self talk, please if you feel these ways reach out to those who can help.
authors note: I'm sad so Dove is sad, but like she's always been sad.
chapter 25
ao3 link!
song for this chapter: I Always Wanna Die (sometimes) by The 1975
Chapter 26: I Always Wanna Die (sometimes)
The Upside Down is actually worse than Steve ever imagined it to truly be. He had seen a glimpse of it in those tunnels back in ‘84, then again when they came face to face with that gate, but this…this is so much more fucked up. Because it almost looks right. Hawkins could look like this given the right circumstances. The weird blue glow, the slight haze. But then he catches a breath of that stale air and the smell, while not rotten or putrid, it’s wrong and he knows it. Other worldly, even.
He’s trailing behind so he can keep an eye on everyone, casting light in front of him with the flashlight he carries. Nancy leads the charge with Robin close to her. Dove walks a pace or two behind, sending worried glances to Steve every once and awhile.
Steve finds his mind wandering back to the lake. Vecna’s words echoing in his head and trying to make sense of them. And then his light catches Eddie. The metal head stomping around, moving loosely and carefree even though Steve can tell he’s scared as shit. But he figures that’s just how Eddie moves.
Eddie. Steve’s baffled to have a lingering positive thought of him right now as he stares at him. Because for the past few days, Steve has had something he would never truly name as jealousy brewing hotter under his skin when he looked at Eddie. He didn’t like his lingering glances on Dove, or the way he’d only look at her, or talk to her, or anything he did involving her. That didn’t help the green eyed monster already in him from Dustin talking about him all the time.
All those thoughts accumulate into one final thought, Eddie had no reason to be down there with them. Sure he was escaping the law but he didn’t have to help them save him. And if he thought about it a little harder, Eddie probably had every reason to despise him for who he was and also dating his (kinda?) ex now.
It’s not at all a pretty thought, in fact it probably would make him sick with guilt if he lingered in it too long, but it’s a nice break from the headache of a riddle Vecna left him with.
“Eddie, Eddie, hey man,” Steve calls out, not terribly loud but enough to get his attention. He jogs the rest of the way to catch up with him, the two of them now walking in tandem.
“Uh…listen, I just…I just want to say thanks,” Steve says, looking at Eddie sincerely.
Eddie stares back at him blankly, waiting for an elaboration on what he’s being thanked for.
“For helping save my ass back there,” Steve adds.
Eddie scoffs. “Shit, you saved your own ass, man. I mean, that was a real Ozzy move you pulled.”
“Ozzy?”
“When you took a bite out of that bat?”
Steve blinks at him as they slowly continue to walk, a confused look on his face. ‘Cause he has no fucking clue who Ozzy is.
“Ozzy Osbourne?”
Not a bell ringing in his head.
“Black Sabbath? He-he bit a bat’s head off onstage,” Eddie says, hoping to God Steve isn’t this far gone into normie media.
“I don’t—”
“You know?”
“No.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Eddie sighs in disappointment before leaning close. “It’s very metal, what you did. That’s all I’m saying.”
And coming from him, Steve knows that has to be a compliment. “Thanks.”
“Henderson told me you were a badass. Insisted on the matter, in fact,” Eddie continues.
That peaks Steve’s attention entirely. Dustin? Henderson? His Dustin? The one for the past couple of months who only talks about how cool he thinks Eddie is?
“Wait, Henderson said that?”
“Oh yeah, shit, kid worships you, dude,” Eddie drawls. “Like, you have no idea. It’s kinda annoying, to be honest.”
He says it so easily, like it's a fact. That pangs something inside Steve’s chest that he doesn’t like to address often. The feeling of not being enough, of just being someone people can use. Not good enough, not smart enough, not…anything enough.
After his fall from his “throne”, Steve learned why he wanted to be up there so bad. He needed to be enough, and he was enough if he was cool. He was enough if everyone showed up to his house for a party. He was enough if he got the attention from the girl he thought hurt was pretty. But then he wasn’t enough for Nancy and that wrecked him more than he thought it did because he was terrified he’d never be enough for Dove (which got worse last summer when everything happened between them and then her mom dying). Then Dustin went to high school and met Eddie and it hurt because he thought he’d been enough for him. So when Dustin bailed on him a ton this year, Steve started building up a resentment towards Eddie. Because he loves Dustin. He loves all those kids. But Dustin, the little shit he is, is probably the closest thing to a little brother he’ll ever get.
“I don’t even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks, but, uh, I got a little jealous, Steve,” Eddie admits.
Well, Steve can relate to that.
“I guess I couldn’t accept the fact that Steve Harrington was actually…a good dude.”
That strikes Steve square in the chest, making his heart clench in the same way it always does when he thinks about who he was. Being enough meant painting himself as this dude that he thought people wanted. The bravado, popularity, parties, drinking, all of it making him someone he knew deep down he wasn’t. He was miserable but he plastered that stupid charm and King Steve persona on because he wanted to be enough for Carol and Tommy to like. He wanted to be enough for his parents to notice. Looking back, maybe he should’ve just been himself and he would’ve been enough for himself.
“Rich parents, popular, chicks love him, not a douche? No way, man. No way. That, like, flies in the face of all the laws in the universe and my own Munson doctrine,” Eddie continues to ramble on. “And then when I heard you and Dove were together? Boy, then I knew I had you all wrong, because that girl would not fuck with the Steve Harrington I pictured you as.”
Steve stares at the ground, watching his bare feet move over the forest floor. He’s not sure what to feel from hearing this sober point of view because he’s still beating himself up for a lot of things he shouldn’t. He’s beating himself up for being who he was, for not noticing how Dove has been feeling, and for feeling sorry for himself while she’s feeling like that. He thanks whatever is out there he stumbles into the Byers living room in 1983, actually he’s grateful for that slap Nancy gave him because that’s what knocked some since into him truly. Because then that leads him to the thought that agrees with Eddie’s statement, Dove would’ve never given him the time of day if he was still that version of himself.
And he’d never blame her. He’s grateful for every day since she’s come into his life because she’s made him so much better.
“Still super jealous as hell, by the way,” Eddie says, leaving in close to Steve to tease him.
Steve laughs, shying away but feeling it settles into a bit of pride. He’ll take that win.
“Which is why I would never have jumped in that lake to save your ass,” Eddie confesses, looking at Steve briefly. “Not under any, uh…normal circumstances.”
A branch snaps in the distance, making the two of them stop and look in the direction it came from. Steve shines his light, but finds nothing there. They just hear chittering and growling in the distance.
God, this place sucks.
“Nope, outside of D&D, I am no hero. I see danger and I just turn heel and run…or at least that’s what I’ve learned about myself this week.”
“Give yourself a break, man,” Steve cuts in, gently slapping him with the back of his hand.
Eddie stops, stepping closer to Steve, one hand going out to gesture to the group of girls in front of them. Specifically to Dove.
“See, the only reason I came in here was ‘cause those ladies, Dove specifically, came in straight after you.”
Steve turns to look at them. Robin wobbles and bumps into Nancy as they walk closer together. Dove is walking slowly, carefully, hands tucked into her overall pockets.
“And listen, it might’ve been awhile since Dove and I were…something,” Eddie says the word low and teasing and Steve cuts his eyes at him briefly. “I was too ashamed to be the one who stayed behind, but Dove? The princess herself didn’t hesitate. Hell there was no keeping her on the boat at that point, no matter what you had asked. She just dove right in…”
Steve stares at Dove’s back, eyes trailing over the dried blood from the cut wrapping her arm. He sees the torn sleeve of her butter yellow blouse and whatever anger had settled in him from her not sharing how she felt seems to dissolve. Because Eddie has reminded him of something he’s known about Dove since fall of 1984.
That’s what makes this whole thing so difficult. Because Steve knows Dove loves fiercely and passionately. He’s heard her talk about her favorite love stories throughout history. He knows that if she could’ve, she would’ve put herself in her moms place last summer. She would’ve given every part of herself up to save him and Robin as well. Even when she barely knew him or the kids, she risked her life for them. Whatever feeling of her own self worth be damned, he knows that decision is easy for her.
He knows it because it’s easy for him.
Eddie clears his throat slightly, seeing Steve’s softened features. “Now, uh, I can tell there is some sorta tension or something going on between you two. I’ve been tracking it for days now. But if I were you…I wouldn’t let her go.”
Steve whips his eyes away from Dove to Eddie’s, who are staring deeply and seriously into his soul.
“I know Dove, I know she is stubborn as hell and will put herself last so much it’s selfish but don’t let her. Don’t let her slip away. She is a lover girl but was forced to be something else by those pricks we went to school with. But what I see in her now…”
Steve stares at him, waiting for him to continue.
“It is the most unambiguous sign of true love these cynical eyes have ever seen.”
He whips his head back to Dove, catching her gaze that had just looked back at him. His heart soars. He feels it in his bones how much he loves her. And then she smiles, a little lift of the corners of her mouth. It’s like the sun suddenly cracks through this demented place and Steve feels his eyes burn. He swallows hard and can see Eddie smirking in his peripheral.
The ground shakes again.
“Goddamnit,” Steve grunts as both him and Eddie collapse towards the ground.
“Second on my list of least favorite things, earthquakes. Seriously I am unsteady enough as it is,” Robin says, crouching on the ground and holding onto a tree root.
Nancy and Dove brace themselves on the same tree, panting as they wait for the quake to pass. Nancy pushes off the tree after lifting her eyes and seeing something in the distance.
“Nancy?” Dove says, watching her begin to walk off.
“Nancy! Hey, where are you going?” Robin yells, standing to follow the girl.
Dove takes off after them both, stumbling slightly as the ground shakes below them. Faintly, she can hear Steve call her name but the rumbling is so loud she barely makes it out.
When she and Robin reach Nancy, she’s standing on the edge of the woods. In the distance is a house, the Wheeler house, surrounded by fallen trees and powerlines.
Steve and Eddie skirt to a stop behind the girls. For a moment, they all just stare at the house, watching the lightning crack behind it in the distance. Thunder rolls and Dove feels a lick of anxiety go up her spine.
“Come on,” Nancy says before strutting forward.
--------------
After getting caught at Lovers Lake, Max, Lucas, and Dustin find themselves stuck at the Wheeler house. The murmur of voices carries from the next room where the parents are talking with a few officers. Dustin has just returned from the bathroom after narrowly avoiding Holly Wheeler and her Lite-Brite, while Lucas leans against the kitchen island with his head in his hands. In another room, Max is busy answering questions from the police.
Dustin sets the walkie he was using in the bathroom to contact the older teens with a sigh.
“Anything?” Lucas asks.
“Nothing,” Dustin replies with another huff.
There’s a beat of silence before Lucas looks up at Dustin.
“You don’t think they went through…”
“Through Watergate? Without us? Without a plan? Without weapons? They wouldn’t be that stupid.”
Lucas nods, sighing out a “yeah”.
“They must just be laying low ‘cause the law got us,” Dustin reasons.
“The law? What is this, Gunsmoke? The Stupid and the Ugly?” Erica Sinclair suddenly asks, appearing out of thin air.
She pushes herself off the banister she was leaning on, juice box in hand, and over to the two boys at the island. Erica is taller than she was last summer, now in sixth grade and with an even more dominant personality than before. Or maybe it’s the same, she’s just louder now.
“Should I round up the posse? Saddle the horses?” Erica continues to poke as she stares her older brother in the eye.
“Erica,” Lucas snaps lightly. “Please, just go away.”
“Here’s the deal,” Erica begins, placing both her hands on the island to make herself a little taller, more authoritative (not that she needs much help, her voice commands a lot). “Either you tell me what’s happening, or I tell Dustin what I found under your bed.”
Lucas, who had let his gaze move away from his sister out of annoyance now snaps his eyes towards her. Her threat is very clear and very, very real.
“Please, no.”
“Spill your guts, cowpuncher,” Erica says.
Dustin, now very interested in what was found under his friend's bed, turns to Lucas. “What’d she find under your bed?”
“Nothing,” Lucas replies way too quickly.
“Is it gross?” Dustin looks at Erica now.
Erica nods.
“Scale of one to ten.”
“A hundred.”
“A hundred?!” Dustin snaps back to Lucas.
“The serial killer is a dark wizard from the Upside Down,” Lucas blurts out, not wanting to be picked on by his friends for the rest of his life by what his sister went snooping for. “And we’ve been looking for him, but he’s in the Upside Down, which we can’t reach. At least we thought we couldn’t, until we found a gate at Lover’s Lake.”
Erica stares at Lucas, eyebrows furrowed and seemingly unimpressed. She sips her juice box loudly as Lucas continues.
“That was the reason we were there, but these stupid cops grabbed us.”
Lucas’s voice starts to raise a little too loud and Dustin calmly shushes him.
“And if you tell anyone about this, that’s including Mom and Dad and Tina…” Lucas goes a little quiet after the name, thinking about all the things Erica has told her best friend about his personal life. “Especially Tina, I will smother you…in your sleep. Do you understand?”
Erica sets her juice box down, resting her face on her balled up fists. “Hmm…”
“Erica?” Lucas asks, sliding forward on his elbows to get closer to her. “Do. You. Copy?
Erica stands up straight, “The smothering in my sleep part, but not much else. Why would they open up a gate at Lover’s Lake?”
“What?” Lucas asks.
“The Commies,” Erica reminds him.
“The commies didn’t.”
“Then who did?”
“Nobody!”
“So it just opened up for fun?”
“Erica, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“No she doesn’t,” Dustin interrupts slowly, finally pulling the pieces of this puzzle together. “Yet she raises an essential question. How did Watergate open up?”
Lucas stares at Dustin, waiting for him to continue.
“Only two gates have opened, so far as we know. One by El, one by the commies. But it’s not the commies or El this time, so it…”
Dustin trails off, losing where his point was exactly going but then it clicks.
“Dove,” Dustin says so quietly Lucas almost doesn’t hear it.
She has been seeing these gates in her mind, that’s what led them to believing they’d find a gate somewhere at the lake. But why?
“Holy shit,” Dustin breathes. “Wait, wait, wait.”
“Wait, wait, wait, what? Dove what?” Lucas asks, standing up straight as Dustin pushes himself away from the island.
“There’s one thing we’ve never understood. Which is why Vecna’s killing people. What’s his motive? Killing teens? It always just seemed too random. Too prosaic. On top of that, how does the Mind Flayer figure into all of this? Maybe this is it. This is the answer.”
“What is the answer?” Lucas snaps, not following where Dustin is going at all.
Before Dustin can reply, Karen Wheeler walks into the kitchen with a cop trailing behind her asking about what kind of drink he wants. Dustin motions for the Sinclair siblings to follow him into the foyer hallway.
“Okay just hear me out,” Dustin says in a hushed voice now. “How did El open the Mothergate?”
“She contacted the Demogorgon," Lucas says, recalling what El had told them almost three years ago now.
“With psychic contact. Just like…”
“Vecna when he casts his spells,” Lucas finishes.
“Exactly. So, what if, with each kill he's not just simply killing them, he’s making a powerful psychic connection with his victims? A connection powerful enough to rip a hole in the fabric of time and space.”
“But what about Dove? You said her name, what does she have to do with that?”
Dustin thinks back to their discussion in the woods. Dove is seeing little tears, or gates, or something in her mind whenever someone is under Vecna’s spell. But what does that even mean? Why is she seeing that? Why does she have memories of Hawkins Lab to even be pulled into?
Her trances are different then Max’s, so it’s not like Vecna is trying to kill her, so what if…
“Vecna is opening more gates, and the two times we have known there to be an attack, Dove has seen one so what if—”
They hear the buzz of a walkie and move out of the foyer hallway as another cop walks through.
“He’s opening more gates to take over the world,” Lucas whispers as they walk away.
“Yes, and we know that the Mind Flayer wants to do that. So what if…what if Dove is a part of that plan like Will was? Or maybe has been a part of it for longer? Her mom was in that Russian Lab helping them and I don’t think she would do that willingly from what Steve has told me about her mom,” Dustin says as they finally stop in the dining room.
“So what, you’re saying the Mind Flayer wants to possess Dove like it did Will?” Lucas asks.
“No, maybe, I’m not entirely sure yet, but I think that these memories Dove has been seeing at Hawkins Lab show that she was somehow exposed to the Upside Down and Vecna and maybe she has become a pawn in his game,” Dustin explains. “But what we do know is that if the Demogorgon was the Mind Flayers foot soldier, then Vecna’s his five star general. A five-star general with the power to open gates.”
“Holy shit,” Lucas says as it all starts to become more clear.
“Holy shit,” Dustin echoes.
“Holy shit, that was incomprehensible,” Erica says, bursting the bubble. “What the hell would he be using Dove Jones for? What can he do by using her? It would make way more sense for him to try and get El, you know since she has powers?”
Dustin pauses again, because it is a valid question from her again. Why Dove? What does the Mind Flayer gain from her?
“Maybe it’s not the Mind Flayer,” Dustin starts thinking outloud. “Maybe Vecna wants her? Maybe he saw her in the lab when she was a kid and became, like, obsessed or something?”
“What? Like a stalker?” Erica asks.
“Possibly? I don’t know she hasn’t really said much about what she’s seen in the visions but…come on guys isn’t it weird that when Vecna pops up she starts having these weird visions? And also the fact that her mom was in that Russian Lab last summer? You don’t just stumble into that job and I’m pretty sure her mom was a scientist for the U.S. government before…so maybe when Hawkin’s Lab went under, the Russians pulled her in because she knew a lot.”
Silence falls over them as they all dwell on that thought. It’s not totally out there. They don’t know much about Dove's mom or family outside of what they’ve been told by Dove herself or Steve. The facts they know are her dad died when she was fifteen from Huntington’s disease, she has two older siblings both ten years older than her, and what family she has that doesn’t live in Hawkins now lives in New York City. Dustin specifically knows her mom was an Astrophysicist, something he talked to Dove about a lot before her mom died.
Two nights ago now, Dove realized she hasn’t always lived in Hawkins like she thought. They moved from New York to Hawkins. In Dustin’s mind, that makes no sense because why would Veronica move from New York where she probably had a successful job to Hawkins? That is, unless there was a crazy scientific breakthrough here they wanted her to be a part of.
Yet, it still doesn’t all fit. They’re missing some pieces still, and Dustin’s mind won’t rest until he figures that out.
—
The Upside Down version of the Wheeler house sucks. Objectively, everything here sucks, but there's something especially unsettling about seeing a place you're supposed to know twisted into something rotten. Knowing what it should look like only makes the reality sitting in front of you worse.
Steve shines the flashlight through the space, moving into the dining room.
“Might be time to get a maid, Wheeler,” Robin jokes.
Dove chuckles lightly but it turns into a light gasp when she feels something move behind her. One of those weird vines. She rushes close to Steve, almost pushing herself into his back for safety.
“Hey,” Steve whispers, turning around to put his arm around her for a second.
“This is so fucked,” Dove whispers to him.
“Yeah, tell me about it,” Steve grumbles, giving her side a light squeeze before dropping his arm.
“Come on, I don’t want to stay here longer than we have to,” Nancy says before heading up the stairs toward her bedroom.
The others follow, Steve and Dove lingering at the back. But halfway up, Steve suddenly stops. His touch leaves her, making her stop as well. She turns toward him to find him staring into the empty room.
“Steve? What is it?”
“Shhh, hold on.” Steve jumps back down the stairs.
His light shines all around as he continues to look for something Dove can’t see. His eyes are wide and honestly, she’s starting to get a little freaked out.
“Hey, uh, Steve? You’re really starting to freak me out.”
Steve continues to spin, like he hears someone calling his name. Oh God, did Vecna get him? Or is it actually rabies like Robin said?
“Dustin! Dustin!” Steve begins to yell.
“Oh God, you’re actually going crazy,” Dove mutters, moving down the stairs now to be in front of him.
“Can you hear me? Dustin!” Steve continues to yell.
“Stev—”
“Hello? Hel…HELLO?!”
Dove hears the sound of the three others that ran upstairs come down beside her now.
“Maybe he really does have rabies,” Robin whispers to Dove, making her jump.
“Jesus, you scared me,” Dove says before looking back at Steve. “Steve, baby, what are you doing?”
“Hello!” Steve yells again, sweeping his flashlight across the four of them. “He’s here. Henderson. That little shit, he’s here. He’s like... in the walls or something. Just listen.”
Steve's heavy breathing does absolutely nothing to ease Dove's concern that he's finally lost it. Between the blood loss, the concussion, and everything else, surely hallucinating Dustin Henderson wasn't completely out of the question.
The room falls silent again.
Everyone strains to listen, but before Dove can focus on anything, Steve shouts again.
“Dustin! Dustin! Dustin, can you hear me?”
“Uh, Dove, maybe you should, like... calm him down or something?” Robin asks, a nervous edge creeping into her voice.
Dove is just about to agree when she hears it.
"If Dove is seeing..."
Her head snaps up. It's Dustin. A little muffled and hard to make out but it's him. Clear as day.
“Holy shit,” she breathes.
Steve is moving toward the dining room and Dove is right behind him.
“Dustin!” she yells back.
A few minutes later, after everyone has finally heard Dustin's voice for themselves, they're all shouting into the darkness.
“All right, either this kid can’t hear us or he’s being a total douchebag,” Steve says, voice a little more raw from all the yelling.
“Will found a way,” Nancy says quietly.
“What?” Dove asks, looking at Nancy standing next to her.
“Will, he found a way to speak to Joyce through the lights,” Nancy reminds them as she runs over to a lamp and flicks it on.
Nothing.
Then Steve points her to the switch, which also gives no result.
“It’s not working,” Nancy grunts, continuing to flip to the light switch aggressively.
Dove turns around back to the sound of where the voices are coming from. The chandelier above the table shimmers slightly and then begins to glow. It’s not on from Nancy flipping the switch, not entirely, but it’s almost like it started something.
“Uh, guys…” Dove calls out. “I’m not imagining this light glowing right?”
Everyone walks over now, all of them looking curiously up at the light. The particles around it shimmer and are almost magical. It’s…beautiful.
Dove carefully reaches her hand up, dancing her fingers through the glitter. They glow bright when her hand connects with them. A slight hum pulses through her fingers, jarring at first but then pleasant. Like a cat purring.
“Whoa,” Eddie breathes.
Then Steve reaches his hand up to join hers and the bulb above his hand shines brighter. Soon all five of them have a hand in the weird glitter.
“It…tickles,” Steve muses, furrowing his brows together.
Dove giggles, “You’re right, it does.”
“It kinda feels good,” Robin says as well, making Eddie chuckle in agreement.
“Does anyone know morse code?” Nancy suddenly asks, retracting her hand from the glitter.
“No,” Steve, Dove, and Robin all say together.
“Wait, does SOS count?” Eddie asks. “Is that…is that good?”
Dove slaps him on the shoulder with a proud smile, “That’s perfect.”
—
“So our working theory is that Vecna makes remote contact from his attic, and when that happens, Dove sees a gate appear in the “mind world”, because…well we don’t know why other than she was at Hawkins lab when she was a kid. For some reason, he’s trying to communicate with her and the more he kills, the stronger that power gets.”
Dustin is pacing a path in front of the Sinclair siblings who sit at the round kitchen table. When he looks over to them, Erica is staring hard at the light fixture in the next room.
“Are you even listening to me?” Dustin asks, sitting in front of Erica to get her attention. He’s been taking his time to go back and explain all the lore of what they’ve learned about the Upside Down for the past twenty minutes and now she’s just staring blankly at a light fixture?
“Yeah, I’m listening, it's just…” Erica stands, walking over to the pulsing light fixture. “You said you followed Vecna through lights, right?”
“Yeah, why?” Dustin asks.
“Because I think he’s here,” Erica says carefully, maybe even a little fearfully if Dustin is reading it correctly.
Sure enough, when he follows her eyes to the light fixture, it’s pulsing. The lights grow brighter then duller in a rhythmic pattern. But Dustin knows this pattern, he recognizes it. Morse Code.
“S…” he mutters, stepping closer to the light. “O…S.”
Holy shit.
“Hey uh, remember when I said they wouldn’t be stupid enough to go through Watergate?” Dustin says slowly.
“Yeah?” Lucas says, watching the lights with wide eyes.
Dusitn turns back to look at the siblings, “I overestimated them.”
—
Communicating with Dustin, Erica, and Lucas became way more efficient after they nabbed Holly’s lite-brite and brought it up to Nancy’s room. Now, in the Upside Down, the five older teens kneel beside the bed, watching Dove’s fingers dance through glitter as she writes out letters to communicate with them.
They explain that they’re stuck in the Upside Down. Through the void, they can hear Dustin ask if they can get through Watergate, which then leads to the question of “what the hell is watergate?” from Steve.
“Because it’s a gate in water,” Robin explains with amusement.
“Oh that’s cute,” Eddie muses.
Dove writes out in the glitter the word, "Guarded", hoping she doesn’t have to explain more than that. Dustin gets the idea, the smart little cookie he is, and they hear him yell through the void that he might have a theory that can help with that.
“Genius child,” Robin sighs in relief.
Dustin goes on to explain they think Watergate isn’t the only gate, and that there’s one at every murder site.
“Does anybody understand what he’s talking about?” Nancy asks.
Everyone shakes their heads saying “No” as Dove reaches into the glitter and draws a question mark.
“Okay, seriously?!” Dustin’s voice echoes through the void, making Dove drop her head forward. “How many times do I have to be right on the money before you guys just trust me?”
“Jesus Christ, this kid’s gotta get his ego checked,” Steve says, shaking his head.
“It’s his tone, right?” Eddie says, leaving in between Steve and Dove.
Dove just shakes her head trying to think of all the places they know the murders have happened. “Okay…so Eddie, how far is your trailer from here?”
“Seven miles,” Eddie answers quickly.
“Nancy? I know your house here is, like, weirdly, creepily frozen in time and shit but haven’t you guys always had bikes?” Robin asks.
In the garage Nancy pulls out all the bikes, handing them all off until Dove is left standing, empty handed.
“Shit,” Nancy says, looking to see if there is another one anywhere but…they only ever needed four. Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and Will. The four of them always. “Uh, maybe we can double up?”
Dove furrows her brows, “Literally how?”
Nancy throws a glance over Dove's shoulder to Steve, who is smiling almost excitedly about the idea of them sharing a bike.
“You can ride with me?”
The sentence, seemingly meaning nothing and almost child like, makes Dove’s heart skip a beat. A sense of déjà vu comes over her that she shakes quickly.
“I don’t think this is gonna work,” Dove says, looking at the bike.
The seat is longer than the others, and she recognizes it as Mike's bike from the amount of times she’s seen him throw it on the ground outside Steve’s house.
Steve shrugs, “Sure it will, just hold onto me.”
She catches his smirk he’s fighting before shaking her head. Of course he would be excited to ride through hell together on a bike. Like some sort of knight. Her knight. And sure, while she’s annoyed at the whole situation entirely, it doesn’t stop the swoop of her stomach at the thought of them pressed together. At him wanting to keep her close.
Oh my God, Jones, grow up he’s your boyfriend stop acting like a fool.
Steve throws one leg over the bike before nodding for Dove to get on behind him. She huffs out an annoyed breath and swings her own leg over, gently grabbing his shoulder for balance. He hisses at the contact, his entire upper body still torn to hell, but the seat is wider than most and Dove slides all the way to the back of it, giving him enough room to sit comfortably as the group takes off.
The streets are just as terrifying as the woods, but at least the streetlights offer some kind of illumination. How or why they're working is a question Dove doesn't have the energy to ask as she wraps her arms beneath Steve's and holds on tight. They're moving fast, and she can hear him panting from the effort of pedaling both of them. Seven miles of this. Seven miles through the Upside Down.
For one selfish second, when the air doesn't smell quite so rotten and she lets her cheek rest between his shoulder blades, she imagines they're somewhere else. Maybe they're riding a bike down the coast where it's warm and sunny and they're not trying to save the world. Maybe they're weaving through Central Park, spring air filling their lungs laced with street vender coffee she'll dump too much sugar in.
Maybe there's something waiting for them after this. Not in Hawkins, but somewhere else. Somewhere new. If she survives this, if they all do, maybe she and Steve can get into some small college and disappear. Start over. Become people who didn't spend their late teens fighting monsters and playing house because they were orphaned or abandoned.
But then the smell of the Upside Down creeps back into her lungs and the fantasy falls apart. The summer sun dissolves. The New York spring air disappears. Every hopeful thought she'd let herself have is swallowed whole by the same darkness that's been following her for months. The same darkness that’s been looming around her for years actually, now just stronger and louder then it’s ever been.
Because that's not how this ends. Not for her.
It's not a thought she likes in her mind, it’s why she never talked about it or addressed it with Steve or anyone. But it’s there and it’s ugly. They thought that she shouldn’t be here, not alive, not with these people she’s surrounded with, and definitely not making plans for a future she feels unworthy of. A future she hasn’t earned. Where this lack of having a reason, a purpose, or proof comes from she’s not really sure but she knows it’s always been there and it’s just louder now. She remembers it when trying to fight her feelings for Steve, she remembers it when she let herself fall into something with people who didn’t care about her, just trying to find a reason.
It sucks, God does it suck because she’s exhausted. She’s exhausted from fighting herself. And this feeling got worse after she watched her mom die because why did she live? And why does she turn that whole situation back on herself? Why does she still feel guilty for it? She wishes she knew the reason she survived in the mall that night because she was sure she was going to die with her mom, the thought almost felt comforting to her.
And who is she to even feel like that? Who even is she? Does she know a version of herself where she isn’t suffocated from her own misery? Where she knows who she fully is and has all her memories?
Dove swallows the limo in her throat as she peers over Steve’s shoulder to the road. Streetlight flickers overhead as her hands begin to shake against the denim on Steve’s chest. It doesn't surprise her when he takes one hand off the handlebars for a brief second and places it over hers, giving them a gentle squeeze.
It's meant to be comforting, and part of her is comforted.
But another part twists the gesture into something painful.
Because after everything she's said, after every confession and every argument, he still believes in her. He still believes she deserves to stay. He'd fight for that belief with everything he has.
It should make her feel loved. Instead, it makes her chest ache. It feels like something that belongs to somebody else. Something she was never supposed to have. And all that growth and realization she had in the woods suddenly starts to be swallowed up by something, that part of her that doesn’t want the good things. It comes in and shakes her inner being, rattling her all over again. Making her unable to shake the feeling that she isn’t supposed to be here.
pairing: college!basketball!captain!rafe x college!student!reader
content: fluff, college au, smau/irl, cursing,
summary: You were trying to make one problem disappear. You were tired, so you lied. That small lie led you to contact the last person you wanted to ask for help. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Rafe; only that you didn’t want to deal with his constant teasing more than you already did. Also, you two weren't that close, but this one lie was going to bring you two closer and maybe help some truths come to light.
word count: 1.9k
authors note: I know it's been a long time, I had writer's block, wrote the first scene and couldn't move past it but FINALLY I made it. Also taglist closed!
16 | 17 | 18
“Kiss me, now.” You demanded in a whisper. Rafe was dumbfounded, but he didn’t waste a second to cup your face. He caught a glimpse of Jordan when he did so, which fueled him even more. He was not only going to kiss you, but that asshole was going to be there for it, and he was going to make it worth it.
The kiss wasn’t soft or cute like it had been back at your house. It was a real kiss, the type of kiss that makes you dizzy and steals the breath from your lungs. He knew what he was doing, and you leaned into it. It felt good. Too good. Your lips parted, and your arms wrapped over his shoulders. He took the invitation of your parted lips and slipped his tongue in, deepening the kiss even more. His hands tightened on your waist at the same time.
You should stop this. The grocery store was no place to be kissing like this. So slowly, even if you truly didn’t want to, you pull away. You break the connection slowly. Rafe follows your lips for a second, and he stops himself when he sees what he is doing. You don’t want to look at him, but you have to. Your faces are still very close. You see how his gaze is locked on your lips; maybe they are red or swollen. You can see his lips are more pink; not sure if it’s from your lipstick or just the kiss. You want to reach out, but everything feels too intimate, so you don’t move.
“Okay…” you finally said in a whisper. He doesn’t answer, and it makes you anxious. “Rafe…?” his name sounded so soft coming from you after all this.
”Hm?” he only hums, like his brain can’t produce any full words.
“I-I think we should…” He takes a deep breath and nods as he steps away from you.
”Pay, yeah,” he nods as he makes his way to the cashier. You followed behind; the last thing on both your minds was Jordan, who had seen everything but left without you noticing.
The ride back to your house is quiet. You are not sure what to say after all that; he paid for everything before you could even protest about it or pay for it yourself.
—
“There you are!” Your mom’s voice resonates in the living room the second you two walk in together. You give her a small smile, trying to act as normal as you could. You were still in a post-kiss daze. Rafe was no better either, but he was used to compartmentalizing when needed.
“I think I want another piece of cake.” You say, moving to the kitchen to keep yourself busy. For once, Rafe didn’t follow. He went to sit next to Kelce, who gave him a questioning look. Then Angie followed you into the kitchen.
“What happened?” She could easily tell something happened.
“Uh…” you stuttered. “I saw Jordan and then rafeandikissed” you said that as quickly as possible.
“What? Wait, what?!” She widened her eyes and grabbed you by your shoulders.
“You heard me.”
“Did I though? What do you mean you saw Jordan, and what do you mean kiss? Like a peck? Like at the store? Wait, why?” She was bombarding you with questions, and you didn’t blame her. You understood where she was coming from because you had already asked yourself a lot more.
“Well, he was there, and last time Jordan contacted me he thought Rafe and I were together, and I never denied it, so… I told Rafe to kiss me,” you explained as you cut yourself another piece of cake.
“Are you insane?”
“I might be.” You might as well be, because you were still not sure how you just let your thought process land on asking Rafe to kiss you.
“This is getting a bit out of…” You don’t let her finish.
“The plan is good. We’re fine. This was just a slip-up, a bump on the road if you will.” She sighed, shaking her head.
“If you say so.”
Tuesday
Halloween
“No way!” The call had ended the second you saw Rafe. Anakin. He was Anakin, and the costume was so detailed and looked so perfectly made that you were half jealous, half impressed.
“What?” he said, smirking. He knew why you were shocked and how coincidental it was that now you two were matching.
“The costume is insane; how long ago did you plan this?” He could’ve answered truthfully, saying a week, but he wasn’t going to put himself on the spot like that.
“You know, just a few weeks”
“A few weeks? This is so…” You trailed off, looking all over the costume. “And we are matching!” you said with a smile, a smile that could turn Rafe into a mush
“Yeah, I guess we are. How cool, huh?”
“I told you last week I wanted to match and you didn’t even tell me about this!”
“Well, you didn’t tell me you were dressing up as Padme,” he said, lifting an eyebrow.
“Oh right, well now we need to take some pictures for sure.”
“Sarah has a camera; let’s go find her.” He motioned for you to come inside the house, trailing behind you. The party was full, a lot of people with the same costumes as every year, others that you couldn’t even decipher, and some others that made you think how you didn’t think of it first. You walked between the people, Rafe saying hi to a lot of them in the process. Meanwhile, you were looking at the details of the house. It looked big enough for at least four or five people to live in; you were guessing it was all guys by the lack of actual home decor that was not sports- or videogame-themed.
“Whose house is this?”
“Some of the guys from the team live here, so they decided to host the party. Or more like we made them. Two of them want Topper and JJ’s jersey number, and they kinda have to win that, so Topper made them host, and JJ made them wear a matching costume with him.” Rafe chuckled. “Why?”
“Just wondering, it’s very… manly”
“You hate it,” he smirked at you.
“I didn’t say that!”
“You are judging real hard right now”
“Just a tiny bit.” You chuckled as you finally made it out to the backyard, where Sarah was setting up a beer pong game with JJ.
After a few rounds of beer pong, in which you lost twice against JJ and a sophomore you didn’t know, it was time to take pictures. Sarah was more than ready with her camera; she was telling everyone how to pose, where to pose, and then she transferred those quickly to her phone so you could all post them as soon as you wanted. She was very efficient; you weren’t sure if it was the excitement of Halloween or the amount of energy drinks mixed with alcohol she had taken, but she was on a roll.
Thankfully, nature, aka the bathroom, was calling your name. This meant a few minutes in peace; you loved Sarah, but she was getting really bossy and loud. You made it inside the house and asked around so someone could point you to the bathroom. After your two minutes of peace, you walked out just to find Rafe reclining on the opposite wall.
“Oh, you’re here. What a coincidence,” He said with a small smirk.
“Second one tonight, actually.” You pointed at him.
“Right, the first one was this.” He pointed at his costume, and you nodded with a smile. “Tired already?”
“Your teammates are very loud drunks,” you chuckled
“Topper and one of the guys are giving them water; it’s all taken care of.” He paused and walked closer to you to then whisper. “Wanna go snoop around the house?”
“We can?” you smirked.
“Well, I’m kinda their captain, so they can’t say no to me,” he shrugged.
“Oh, they can’t?” you said teasingly, moving even a bit closer to him.
“No, it’s kinda like an unspoken rule to always say yes to me.” He teased back, his face leaning in closer to yours. You noticed but didn’t do anything to stop him.
“Is that so? Does that only apply to them?” Rafe noticed that for the first time in all the time he had known you, you were flirting back, and he wasn’t about to let this go to waste.
“Do you want it to apply to you too?” He slowly lifted a hand and placed it on the nape of your neck. You almost shivered at the sudden touch.
“Saying yes to you all the time seems a little bit risky”
“Mh, how so?” He glanced at your lips and then back at your eyes.
“For starters, your ego would get too big. A girl saying yes to you all the time? You’d be insufferable,” you said as you unconsciously leaned in a bit more. He noticed it and let it happen. He had been dying to kiss you again, just like in the supermarket. He just chuckled under his breath.
“But you’d like it, don’t you?”
“In what world would I like that?” you almost laughed.
“In this one, where you are smiling at me like that.” He knew he was pushing his luck, but still he moved his hand up to cup your face and touched the corner of your mouth with his thumb. Your heart skipped a beat when he did so.
In that moment, it fully sank in how close you two actually were. You stared at his face, then, for a second, your eyes moved to his lips, and all the memories of The Kiss came flooding back into your mind. The way he held you, how you didn’t want it to end, and now how much you wanted for that to happen again. He noticed how your eyes went to his lips, and he took it as a silent invitation to lean in a bit more.
“Yo! Rafe, there you are… Oh…” Kelce’s voice broke through, and the two of you almost jumped to opposite sides of the hallway. Rafe cleared his throat.
“Man, hey, what-what do you need?” he fake-coughed.
“We need help moving some of the tables inside; it’s getting too cold.”
“Yeah, okay.” He gave you a last look before going back to the party. Kelce lingered, lifting an eyebrow at you.
“Uh uh, no. Don’t give me that look.” You said as you walked past him.
—
After the party had moved inside, everyone was more cramped, but it still went on. By 11 PM, it started raining, which was weird since it rarely rained in October, but there was always the occasional storm, and with the weather you never really knew. It was enough for you to want to go home. Now you just had to go look for Rafe. You found him talking with Topper in the kitchen.
“Hey,” he said immediately when he saw you. “Wanna go?” It’s like he was reading your mind; you nodded. “See ya’” he told Topper and left the red solo cup on the counter.
“You weren’t drinking, right?”
“Nah, I had a beer at like 8 but didn’t drink more. I knew I had to be sober, plus we have practice tomorrow and can't have a hangover.”
“Right,” you smiled. “Let me go say bye to the girls,” he nodded.
“I’ll go warm the car up.”
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Summary — If having a fairytale love story guaranteed a happy ending, then, uh, why are you and Rafe getting a divorce?
Content — angst, drama, marriage in crisis, hurt/comfort, brother's best friend, childhood friends to high school sweethearts to lovers to divorce.
Navigation — Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14
IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, if you want to be added to this specific taglist, let me know (but to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts).
warnings! fem!reader, use of y/n, fluff & angst, threats of violence (jk), relationship insecurity, avoidant attachment, abandonment anxiety, domestic discomfort, & unresolved conflict
imessage with; ROOKIE PROTECTION PROGRAMME 🐥
andrea: so cam cameron...
oliver: we need to have words
isack: kind words, no (major) threats involved
franco: very uh how you say... nice words
andrea: we know you can handle him
message loved by y/n
andrea: but if you want someone to run him off the track...
message loved by y/n
oliver: we'll all gladly volunteer
y/n: would you like to tell him that?
franco: noooo that's alright
oliver: it's just a figure of speech
andrea: sure
isack: that depends on whether this will impact my chances of getting into an f1 car anytime soon
y/n: you'll have to ask cam cameron
oliver: wait- are you guys sitting next to each other?
oliver: gross
y/n reacted with 🙄
andrea: so cam cameron...
rafe: yes andrea?
andrea: rude
andrea: but i'll ignore that rafael
andrea: you hurt our mother
rafe: mother-?
franco: shhh stop interupting
isack: you hurt her again and we will run you off the track like roadkill, got it cameron?
rafe: i'd like to see you try hadjar
You end the call with a laugh, the rookies still chirping in the background. Then the screen goes dark, and the room feels too quiet. You get up first. Rafe's arm drops to the bed with a soft thump from where it had been sling over your shoulders during the call. You put on something and leave the room without saying anything, and he just watches you go.
Five minutes ago, or last night, when you were coming undone in front of him, he would've followed without thinking. Now, he hesitates.
He hears the espresso machine start, the smell drifting towards him, followed by the faint hiss of something hitting a pan. You hear his footsteps behind you, but you don't turn. He hovers in the doorway, movements careful, like he's approaching a skittish animal. He isn't too far off.
"Want coffee?" you ask, voice neutral.
Your stomach twists. It's too tense, too awkward. Everything should be fine. He apologised, profusely, you invited him in, you ate together, and then you had mind-blowing sex. Again. But somehow it feels worse now.
He steps in to help with breakfast, and the domesticity is almost painful, his eyes flicking to the ring on your finger constantly.
...
You slide a mug toward him without looking. He takes it, fingers brushing yours, barely, accidentally, stupidly gentle despite the callouses on his hands, and you feel it like a little spark under your skin. He doesn't pull away, and doesn't push forward either. Just... lingers.
You move first, stepping back to the stove.
He clears his throat, about to say something, but stops himself. His eye drop to the counter, then to the ring again. His thumb rubs over the metal on his own hand, a nervous tic he thinks you don't notice.
You plate the breakfast. Your hands colliding with his as they reach for the plates. He laughs under his breath, soft and embarrassed, then takes them from you and sets them down, opposite from each other, not beside like you usually do.
The silence stretches, thin as a thread pulled too tight.
You take a sip of coffee. He takes one of his.
And neither of you touch the mess sitting between you.
...
He finishes first, standing to bring his plate to the sink, knowing you prefer washing by hand over the dishwasher. "I'll... clean up."
He kisses your head as he walks past, instinctive, thoughtless, something he's done a hundred times, and it knocks the air out of you. He doesn't even realise what he's done.
You open your mouth, ready to start the conversation you've been avoiding, but his phone rings. And the moment shatters. You snap out of the strange, suspended state you were in.
He has to go. Again.
He pauses at the door, like he wants to same something and you desperately want him to. His eyes flick to you, then to the ring, then back again.
"I'll see you later," he says softly, kissing your cheek before he leaves.
The door shuts quietly behind him.
And the silence he leaves behind feels heavier than the one you shared.
DREW'S NOTES... almost forgot about the rookies for a min 🫣 oops
If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know. And, if you want to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts, which includes commenting &/ reblogging (credits to @zyafics).
Summary — If having a fairytale love story guaranteed a happy ending, then, uh, why are you and Rafe getting a divorce?
Content — angst, drama, marriage in crisis, hurt/comfort, brother's best friend, childhood friends to high school sweethearts to lovers to divorce.
Navigation — Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14
IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, if you want to be added to this specific taglist, let me know (but to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts).
BUZZCUT!RAFE & BLACK!KOOK!GF going on a ski-trip and using it to not-so-softly launch their relationship...
a/n: this is my first little piece for themmm omg i love it. also these are some of the smau templates i'd been talking about working on so lmk how y'all feel about em!! *reupload bc tumblr is funny like that
⋆.˚ PAIRING ˚.⋆
therapist!rafe x younger!reader (f)
⋆.˚ SYNOPSYS ˚.⋆
fresh out of college and emotionally fried, you escape from nyc to the outer banks for 6 months to figure out what the hell you’re doing with your life. unfortunately, your insomnia, anxiety, and terrible coping mechanisms come with you.
desperate to get your shit together, you make the incredibly sensible decision to start therapy with dr. rafe cameron—the man you blocked 4 years ago and definitely never planned on letting back into your life.
but reopening old wounds is part of therapy, right?
⋆.˚ CONTENT INFO ˚.⋆
vulgar language, angsty, side mention of drugs (coke, weed), distress
⋆.˚ AUTHOR'S NOTE ˚.⋆
back into the present and our stressed-out girl. have fun reading <3
xx ᓚᘏᗢ
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COMMENT down below if you wanna be added to the tag list
When Rafe Cameron wasn't playing the part of a glorified uber driver, he was sipping champagne in suits worth more than your rent, at galas that put poor Cinderella's ball to shame. Gala's that your family so graciously hosted. It almost seemed ridiculous at how you'd both managed to avoid each other for so many years, until suddenly you were engaged. Or were you?
warnings! smau, fem!reader, premarital therapy & f1 inaccuracies, strong language, w*rd, idiots to lovers*... & more
You might've previously known this as Newton's Laws, but it lacked direction (& plot), so it's now under construction and being reimagined as... Marriage Material.
I'm still hoping to bring my own twist to the world of F1, and F1!Rafe, this time with actual structure, deeper storylines, and (hopefully) regular updates. I hope you fall in love with this little world too.
This series will be an smau, including a mix of written content in the form of articles, interviews & more! If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know. And, if you want to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts, which includes commenting &/ reblogging (credits to @zyafics).
Summary — If having a fairytale love story guaranteed a happy ending, then, uh, why are you and Rafe getting a divorce?
Content — angst, drama, marriage in crisis, hurt/comfort, brother's best friend, childhood friends to high school sweethearts to lovers to divorce.
Navigation — Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13
IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, if you want to be added to this specific taglist, let me know (but to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts).
jimmyeatworldofficial
2087
yousharknotpass
prguitarman
discoholicmusic
