#everyone's least favorite chris | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

guccifrog · 1 month

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you don't even know my name

chris sturniolo x f!reader

warnings : SMUT hm hm hm hmmm 😈🙏

I cringed so hard writing this but here is your fic also it's not proofread ☝🔥

•As the sun slowly sank below the horizon, you and your best friend Ava found yourselves nestled comfortably in the cozy confines of your car, as you had been for the past few hours. The scent of freshly popped popcorn filled the air. You had been discussing everything from your favorite TV shows to the latest celebrity gossip, all while capturing it all on camera for your loyal YouTube followers.

"I just can't get over how hot he is" Ava gushed as she scrolled through a picture of a popular actor on her phone. "I kid you not y/n if this man asked me to get on my knees and bark" she paused looking up at you with seriousness in her eyes "I'd do it!" You couldn't help but laugh at her dramatic tone. "Oh please" you chuckled.

"I mean he's hot and all but imagine moaning his name"you added, taking a sip of your root beer. Ava paused for a moment, her face scrunching in concentration. "yeah you're right" she finally said, "It's so unmoanable, like you can't even do it right!" You couldn't help but snicker at her poor attempt. "Okay, enough of that," Ava said, rolling her eyes.

"no, but like let's talk about unmoanable names," You said, sitting up straight. "Like, imagine moaning something like 'Bradley' or 'Austin' or something, it's just not it!" You both giggled at the ridiculousness of it.

"how about 'Christopher'" Ava asked, making you both laugh. "oh Christopher, yes! Just like that" you whined sarcastically. The two of you were in hysterics now, tears streaming down your faces as you tried to catch your breath.

"Wait wait, you could use the short version too like Chris or Topher, and then it'd be like 'Oh-Topher!' That would be so much worse!" You both collapsed into fresh fits of giggles, unable to contain your amusement any longer. "Oh my god, I can't believe we're laughing so hard at this" Ava managed to choke out between laughs. "But like seriously, imagine trying to moan out 'Oh Christopher' while you're bouncing on it..." you trailed off, unable to finish the thought without losing it again.

"WOAH" Ava's eyes widened as she processed what you had just said. She covered her mouth, trying to muffle her laughter. "Oh my god, oh my god!"

Your sides hurt from laughing so hard, tears streaming down your face. "okay I guess we should probably-" you started, but Ava cut you off with a loud laugh. "end this video here" You snorted, trying to catch your breath. 'Oh, Christopher'..." Your voice trailed off, before ending the video, and the two of you dissolved into another fit of giggles, clutching each other for support.

After regaining your composure, you both decided to go home and edit the video before posting it online. you couldn't help but giggle to yourself as you watched back the footage, "I can't believe we were laughing so hard at something so stupid," Ava chuckled, shaking her head. "But hey, at least it made a good video," you replied, your eyes still glued to your laptop. Once you were satisfied with your editing, you quickly uploaded the video to your YouTube channel.

The next few days, the video went so viral unexpectedly that you and Ava couldn't believe your eyes. Thousands of comments flooded your YouTube page. The likes and subscribers to your channel were duplicated, and everyone was sharing clips from the video on TikTok and Instagram. You even got invited to a huge influencer party this weekend. You and Ava were both completely overwhelmed by the sudden attention, but you couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous the whole thing was. You even found yourselves scrolling through the comments, reading all the different interpretations of the 'Oh Christopher' joke. Some people thought it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard, while others were confused as to why it was so funny at all.

The dimly lit room was filled with the familiar sounds of typing as Nick, was sat on the sofa across from Chris scrolling through his phone. The two brothers were in their usual setting, the living room of their apartment. It was just another normal evening for them until a video that popped up on Nick's screen caught his eye and sent him into fits of laughter.

"Dude, you gotta see this" Nick exclaimed, barely able to contain his laughter as he threw his phone at Chris.

Chris, confused by his brother's sudden outburst , took the phone and began to watch the video. It was a clip of two girls, sitting in a car.

"But like seriously, imagine trying to moan out 'Oh Christopher' while you're bouncing on it..." One of the girls in the video trailed off,

"WOAH!" The other one looked at her in shock, before they both burst into laughter.

Chris stared at Nick's phone in disbelief, his eyes widening as he continued to watch the video. He couldn't help but let out a chuckle, and soon enough they were both doubled over with laughter. "Oh my god," Chris gasped between laughs, "this is too much." He handed the phone back to Nick, still chuckling.

Their laughter died down as they both sat there, breathing heavily. Chris grabbed his phone, opening TikTok."Nick send me that video" Nick raised his eyebrows but decided to comply.

As Chris watched the video, again, he clicked on the hashtag that had one of the girls' names in it and found hundreds of similar videos, and some edits. He clicked on the first video that popped up. It was a different clip from the same video.

"how about 'Christopher'" the girl asked

"oh Christopher, yes! Just like that" the other one whined, sarcastically. But something about the way she said it made Chris' heart race a little too fast. it turned him on.

He couldn't believe it, but there was something about hearing his name come out of her lips like that, in that suggestive tone, that did it for him.

He couldn't help but feel a strange tingle in his pants. He quickly looked away from the screen, trying to pretend it wasn't affecting him. he felt stupid for getting turned on by some random girl on TikTok. But the more he thought about it, the more aroused he became. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch, wishing he could just focus on something else. He felt guilty, ashamed even.

"I hate traffic," you complained as your best friend Ava pulled up to the curb in front of the mansion. The address was an unlisted number in the most exclusive part of town, and you'd been circling the block for over twenty minutes. "Why couldn't they just have this party somewhere normal?"

"This is normal for them," Ava shrugged, throwing her car into the park. She grabbed her small, designer purse and hopped out of the car, glancing around at the other luxury vehicles surrounding you.

You both walked up to the huge, gold-plated doors and were immediately greeted by a bouncer who checked your names off a list. The inside of the mansion was even more luxurious than you'd expected, with marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and expensive artwork adorning the walls. The party itself was in full swing, with people dancing to the loud music and laughing as they sipped on their drinks.

"Hey, check out that guy over there," Ava pointed at a tall, dark-haired man standing by himself near the grand piano. He looked like he was lost in thought, not paying attention to anyone else around him. "He's totally cute. Let's go say hi!"

"girl, no," you said shaking your head, "you don't even know him" you whispered to your best friend. Ava rolled her eyes" When did YOU start caring if we know people or not? Come on, he's cute and looks lonely" she insisted.

You sighed"Fine, but let me get a drink first" Ava nodded, and You made your way through the crowded room, carefully navigating between people as you made your way to the bar. The bartender smiled warmly at you as you approached. "What can I get you tonight?"

"Surprise me," you said with a small smile. The bartender reached for a bottle behind him and began pouring liquids into a shiny martini glass. "On the house," he said, sliding the drink across the polished wood. "My name's Damon, by the way." You took a sip of the drink, savoring the smooth, fruity flavor. "Thanks, Damon," you said, setting the glass down on the counter.

While you were chatting with Damon, you kept an eye on Ava and the mysterious man she'd been so interested in. You decided to let her have her fun, but you weren't quite ready to join them yet. As you took another sip of your drink, you found yourself lost in thought.

You were just about to set your glass down when you felt a hand on your waist, gently guiding you off to the side, before letting go. You turned to see who it was and was met with the most beautiful pair of blue eyes you had ever seen.

"Sorry," a gentle voice said, before disappearing. You turned back to the party, taking in the scene, Ava was now dancing with the tall, dark-haired guy. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, and Ava looked like she was having the time of her life.

You took one last sip from your drink, before placing it down with a 'clack' on the counter. With a smile, you slowly made your way through the crowd, the rhythm of the music guiding your steps. The dance floor was packed, but somehow you managed to find a spot where you could lose yourself in the music.

Kiss It Better by Rihanna started playing and you smiled, the beat was perfect for your mood. You raised your arm in the air and began to sway to the music, feeling the rhythm in your bones. You closed your eyes, letting the music take control as you moved your hips and spun around, singing along to the words.

unbeknownst to you, the same blue-eyed stranger from before had been watching you as you danced, to the music, and seemed to enjoy it as much as you did.

His eyes locked on you as you swayed, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. You span around, your eyes catch his and hold them, you smile tilting your head slightly in confusion as you continue to dance, and you gesture to him with your index finger to come closer. He nods slightly, walking over to you, his hands in his pockets. He took a step forward before swiftly moving around you, guiding your body with his hands as he spins you around the dance floor.

You gasped, your heart pounding in excitement. The music seemed to fade away, leaving only the sound of your breath and the beat of your heart. He held you close, his big hands resting on the fabric of your skirt, his chest pressed against your back. You could feel his hardening length pressed against your ass, and it made you want to moan with pleasure.

As if sensing your arousal, he slowed down the dance, moving you in a lazy circle on the dance floor. His hands traveled up your back, cupping your shoulders, before sliding down to your hips. He pulled you closer, grinding his hips against yours, his erection pressing harder against your ass. You arched your back, pressing yourself against him, wanting more of his touch.

You were aware of the fact that he was just a stranger, but like Ava said, when did you care if you knew people or not? You let yourself enjoy the moment, and enjoy him. His hands traveled down to your hips, lifting you higher against his body. He pressed his lips against your ear, whispering, "You feel so good, so warm in my arms."

You shivered, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over you. The alcohol was beginning to make you feel light-headed but in a good way. You pressed your back harder against him, wanting more of his touch "Careful, princess, we're in a public place" he whispered, loosening his grip on you slightly. You felt the cool air brush against your skin as he pulled you away from his body, but you reached back, grabbing his hand and dragging him behind you, as you hurried out of the dance floor.

You led him to a bathroom, grabbing the knob and twisting, just to realize that it was locked, he watched in amusement as you give the door an aggressive kick, sighing in frustration when it still doesn't open. "Hey, I got it," he says, crouching down and wrapping his arm around the space between the back of your knees and the small of your back, lifting you up in the air effortlessly. "Gotcha." He carries you to the end of the hallway where there's a small, unused office, its door slightly ajar. He kicks it open, revealing an empty room with a small desk and a few chairs. He carries you inside, setting you down next to the desk with a gentle thump.

You turn to face him, your hands grabbing the edge of the desk, and leaning back on it. "That's better," you pant, your breath hot. His eyes meet yours, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "And what do you want to do now?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

You swallow hard, feeling a wave of desire wash over you. "I don't know... show me something I've never seen before," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the muffled music. His eyes flash with amusement and he leans in closer.

"you don't even know my name," he whispers back, his lips brushing against your ear. "hmm?" he asks, his warm breath tickling your skin. You inhale, feeling a shiver run down your spine. You tilt your head to the side, offering him better access to your neck.

"I don't care" You muttered as you closed your eyes, giving into the sensation of his breath on your skin. "Just show me something I've never seen before..." Your voice trailed off as you felt his fingers gently brush against your cheek, pushing a stray hair back behind your ear.

"that's crazy coming from someone who thinks Chris is an unmoanable name" Your eyes snapped open and met his. You quickly looked away feeling ashamed as you realized he had definitely seen the video.

"way to ruin the moment," you said, trying to sound annoyed but failing. He let out a chuckle, seeming to enjoy teasing you. "It's okay, sweetheart. I don't care about that either. You looked like you were having fun in your video, and that's all that matters." His hand traveled down your cheek, cupping your jaw, and turning your head so that you were looking at him again. "let's see how much will it take you to take back your opinion about my name..." He leaned in closer, his lips just millimeters from yours. "If you do, then I'll stop teasing you."

Your heart raced as you stared into his eyes. A part of you wanted to take back your words, to kiss him just to prove yourself wrong, but another part of you wanted to keep him teasing you, wanting more of his attention. You hesitated for a moment, feeling the anticipation build up inside you, before finally leaning in and pressing your lips against his. His hand moved to the back of your head, gently pulling you closer, deepening the kiss.

You felt a thrill run through you as you explored his mouth, tasting the beer on his tongue and the hint of mint from his breath. He tasted so good, better than any of your past hookups. You moaned into the kiss, feeling your body start to respond to his touch, wanting more of it. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.

He broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. His pupils were dilated, his cheeks flushed. "Well, I guess that answers that question," he said with a smirk. "You're so stubborn" He leaned in again, his lips pressing against yours, and you felt your body melt into his touch.

His hand slipped down your back, over the curve of your ass, and gripped your hip. You moaned into his kiss, feeling the heat between your legs spread throughout your entire body. He pulled you closer, grinding his hips against yours, and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressing against your leg. His other hand found its way under your shirt, tracing lazy circles on your bare skin, making you shiver.

As he walked you backward, your back hit the wall with a soft thud. He didn't break the kiss, instead, he deepened it, his tongue sliding against yours in a rhythm that sent shockwaves through your core.

One of his hands slid up your body, and grabbed your neck, pulling your head back. He pressed his knee on your clothed center, grinding against it roughly. His lips left yours, trailing down your jaw to your neck. He sucked gently on your skin, leaving a mark that stung pleasantly. "You're so fucking wet" he chuckled, his voice rough with desire. You moaned, arching your back against him. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked, his voice laced with entertainment. You shook your head frantically, feeling the heat between your legs growing more intense by the second.

He released your neck but didn't let go of your hip. His other hand found its way under your shirt, teasing your nipple through your bra. You gasped as he pinched it hard, rolling it between his fingers. "Fuck," you whined, squirming against him. He chuckled darkly and bit down on your neck. "Maybe I should just take you right here," he whispered, his words hot against your skin.

Before you could reply, he reached down and quickly slid down your panties, baring you to him. You gasped as his fingers brushed against your slick folds, feeling the cool air of the room against your exposed cunt. He placed his knee back between your legs, rubbing roughly against your swollen clit. His hands were now gripping your waist tightly as you rode his thigh, your hips moving in a desperate rhythm.

You arch your back, as he continues to tease you. His thigh is hot against your clit. You feel your muscles tense, your breath coming in short gasps as you edge closer and closer to your release. You close your eyes, lost in the sensation of his hands on your hips, guiding you on his thigh, and the way he looks at you like he can see every thought and feeling inside you.

You feel him kiss your neck, his lips trailing down your shoulder as he sucks gently on the skin. "Fuck, I want to feel you around me," he whispers, and with one swift motion, he stands, lifting you up with him. You wrap your legs around his waist, feeling his hardness pressing against you, and the wetness between your legs spreading on his thigh. He carries you back over to the desk, setting you down gently on the surface with a thud. Your legs spread wide as he kneels between them, his hands on the desktop for support as he leans in, his lips just above your center.

You watch him as he looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire. He parts your folds with his thumbs, revealing your swollen clit to him. His tongue flicks out, circling your sensitive nub before pressing against it in a long, slow lick. You arch your back, moaning loudly as he sucks on your clit, teasing it with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. Your hips rise off the desk, seeking more contact with his mouth.

As you feel yourself getting closer, he stops, pulling his lips away from your center. You look up at him in confusion, breathless from the pleasure he's been giving you. "Please," you whisper, your voice shaky. He smirks, reaching down and rubbing your clit roughly with his thumb. "Please what?" he teases, his voice low and seductive. "Please make you come?"You nod frantically, your hips bucking against his hand.

"use your words" He demands, his gaze locked on yours as you struggle to form a sentence. You can't speak, your words tangled up in the pleasure flowing through your body. He watches you with dark, intense eyes, his thumb still rubbing your sensitive clit in small, slow circles.

You felt the pressure building inside you, your body tense and ready to release. You dig your nails into his shoulders, urging him to keep going, to help you get there. He chuckles, leaning in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Tell me what you want," he whispers, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "Tell me how you want it."

You gasp, your eyes flashing up to meet his as you try to catch your breath. "I want you to make me cum," you manage to choke out, the words barely audible even to your ears. "I want it so bad," you whine, your hips grinding against his hand. You're so close, that you can feel the heat rising up from your core. You arch your back, pressing your swollen clit harder against his thumb, desperate for release.

"What did we agree on though ?" He asked, teasingly slowing down his hand movement as he watched your face twist in frustration. You grit your teeth, his thumb still circling your clit. "I take..." you breathed out, your voice strained as you tried to focus. "...I take it back."

He smiled, his lips curling up into a wicked grin as he continued to tease you. "take what back, sweetheart ?" he whispered huskily, his thumb still moving in small circles. You gasped, as you tried to focus. "Your name," you managed to choke out between breaths. "it's moanable."

"oh yeah ?" he asked, a smirk curling his lips as he glanced up at you from where he knelt between your spread legs. "prove it" he challenged, his thumb still working on your clit in small, relentless circles. He leaned in closer, his breath fanning across your wet center as his lips parted, revealing his teeth. "Prove to me that it's moanable."

You inhaled, feeling your body tensing. His finger pressed harder against your clit, his thumb, and forefinger forming a perfect circle as he circled and pressed. You arched your back, your hips lifting off the desk as you moaned his name, your voice low and throaty. "Chris!." you panted, your words coming out in gasps.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked, his voice low and amused.

You moaned again, your hips moving faster against his hand as you felt the familiar tension building inside you. "That's it," he whispered, leaning in closer, his lips brushing against your thigh. "Let it out for me"

You cried out, your body arching as you came. Your muscles clench and release in rapid succession, your breath coming out in ragged gasps as pleasure washes over you in waves. His thumb continues to circle your clit, milking every last drop of pleasure from your body.

"Fuck, it feels so good," you pant, your head falling back against the desk. You feel a shiver run down your spine as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your inner thigh. "Don't... don't stop," you whimper, your hips still moving helplessly against his hand.

He chuckles, his thumb continuing to circle your clit, his other hand moving to cup your hip, holding you in place. You whimper, arching your back as you feel the last tendrils of pleasure wash over you.

"I can't believe how submissive you are," he giggled, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. "I feel like I could make you cum just by thinking about it." He leans in closer, pressing a gentle kiss against your thigh.

You moan, your body still trembling from the intense orgasm. His hand moves to gently stroke your clit, teasing the sensitive skin as he asks, "Want more?"

You were about to answer, but a loud ring interrupted you. "Shit," Chris muttered as he reached for his phone, glancing at the screen. "It's my mom." He rolled his eyes and put the phone to his ear, shooting you a sheepish smile. "Hey mom, what's up?"

As he spoke to his mother, you took the opportunity to collect yourself, pushing the desk back and sitting up straight. Your heart was still racing, and your body felt warm and tingling all over. Chris glanced at you from time to time, a small smile playing on his lips.

When he finally hung up the phone, he let out a sigh. "Sorry about that," he said, shaking his head. "So, um... I have to go" he added, glancing at you with a sheepish grin. "But I had a really good time. You were great, and I can't wait to see you again."

You were a little disappointed, but you still smiled at him. "I had a great time too, Chris." He leans down, his face close to yours, and brushes a stray hair from your cheek. "Maybe next time, I'll make you cum even harder," he giggled, and before you can react, he's gone.

Chris walked into his room, The air in the room was thick with the scent of his cologne, and the bed was unmade, sheets twisted around the pillows. He quickly took off his clothes and walked over to his shower, turning on the water to warm it up. As he stepped in, he couldn't help but think about what had just happened with you. The memory of your body beneath him, your moans in his ear, the feel of your hands on his skin... it was all still fresh in his mind.

"Fuck" He groaned, as he reached between his legs, his hand finding his already hard cock. He began to stroke it slowly, imagining it was you who was touching him. He pictured your soft, warm lips wrapped around him, your tongue swirling around the head, your hands gripping his hips as you took him deeper.

He closed his eyes, letting out a moan, trying to focus on the feel of his skin under his fingertips, and the hot spray of the shower against his body. But it was impossible to ignore the images of you that flashed through his mind, making him even harder.

He remembered how you had looked earlier, sitting on that desk, your legs spread wide, your eyes meeting his as he approached. He could feel the heat between your legs even from across the room. it was driving him wild.

Chris gripped his cock tightly, his hips moving in time with his strokes as The memory of your moans filled the shower stall, echoing in his ears. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body tense with need.

He imagined sliding his cock between your legs, hearing the wetness as he penetrated you, feeling the tightness as he thrust deep inside.

His strokes grew faster, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he neared the brink. He pictured your hands gripping the desk, your head thrown back in euphoria, your loud moans filling the room. His hips bucked wildly, his body tensing as he felt the first, powerful wave of release wash over him.

Chris cried out, his voice muffled by the sound of running water, as he came hard, his cock throbbing in his hand. The hot spray of water pelted his skin, but he barely noticed as he rode out the waves of pleasure. When he finally regained his senses, he quickly cleaned himself up and stepped out of the shower.

He dressed in comfortable sweatpants and a t-shirt, his movements still a little unsteady. He layed down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to calm his racing heart. He couldn't help but wonder when he would see you again.

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formulaforza · 2 months

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miss americana and the heartbreak prince

—08. It's So Sweet —word count: 5.2k —warnings: none :) love, mackie... um... yeah. yeahhhh. sorry sorry sorry if you still read this fic. surprise I guess! its NOT as dead as you thought it was. See you guys again in four months. hopefully sooner if there is a God.

Charles, teeth dug into his tongue so hard he can taste copper, manages to keep from slipping up for the remainder of his time in Georgia. He swallows it down, chokes on an I love you everytime she looks at him for days that feel like an eternity.

The flight out to France that marks the end of his stay had spent weeks serving as a dreadful backmarker, but now it was one of solace, saving him from himself. He knows better than to spit out “I love you” two months in. He knows better, but he also knows. Simple as that. He just knows.

He’s good at keeping it down during phone calls and voice memos and FaceTimes because there’s no fucking way he’s stupid enough to say it over the phone. Whenever he does finally deem the time to be right, it’ll be inches from her face, with all the time in the world ahead of them. Her smile will be there, just waiting to be kissed.

It definitely will not be while she’s grading papers or reviewing a movie or putting purple refills in her pen, even though he finds himself thinking just how plain and simple he loves her when she’s doing those things.

– – –

Charles spends the holidays with his family in France, coming pretty much directly from his time with Chris and her family in Georgia.

They quiz him like there’s no tomorrow about all of it; on Chris, and her family and her city and her life. He thinks he does a half-decent job at keeping his cards close to his chest; hiding his tells and acting completely normal and regular and plain about it all.

Well. He can be coy and secretive to everyone but his mom. Mother’s always know when their sons are in love, and Pascale has always been particularly apt at seeing straight through her boys and the bullshit they try to feed her.

He’s helping with dinner dishes—working hard to get those extra points towards being the favorite son this weekend—when she confronts him about it. He knows he’s in trouble. He’s never been able to lie to her in a way that was even sort-of convincing.

“So, Chris…” she hums, drying three two forks at once with a damp towel. “Is this going to be something?” She asks. Charles shrugs, squeezing more blue dish soap onto the plate in his other hand. “That’s too much,” she remarks.

He ignores the comment, moves the scrubbing sponge over the plate in small circles. “It’s new, still.”

“But you like her?”

He chuckles. Of course he likes her. He wouldn’t be dating her, traveling to see her, introducing her to his family if he didn’t at least like her. That’d just be cruel. “I like her a lot,” he says. I like her the most, he bites his tongue. He rinses the soap from the plate.

Pascale nods, soft smile on her lips when she takes the plate from his hand, drying it carefully. “Just like, is that right, Charles?”

He knows what she means, what she’s implying. They both know she’s right, too, but he can’t stand to admit it. He feels like if he does, if he actually speaks the words out loud, there’s no way he’s going to be able to keep it in anymore. It’ll be breaking the seal, and he can’t. Not yet. He doesn’t have it in him yet. “Maman,” he says, and his tone is laced with her answer, soft and sweet and pleading in a desperate way.

She smiles, sets the plate down onto the counter gently. It still clatters against the marble. “I know,” she hums, hand finding his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.

Charles spends New Year’s Eve in London. He’s with his brothers and his friends and like, all of their girlfriends. He’s been pathetically texting her the entire trip going on about i’ll buy your ticket if you want to come and it would be so much more fun with you here.

What Charles doesn’t know is that Chris is on her way, and that she’d been planning the surprise with Joris for three weeks. After a red eye flight from Atlanta that lands a little before two in the afternoon in London, Joris manages to sneak off from the group to meet her at the hotel and give her a key to his room. She hides out there for most of the afternoon while Joris tries to convince the group to head back to the hotel for a few hours without spoiling the surprise of why they should go back to the hotel in the middle of the day.

When he finally gets them back to the hotel, he waits fifteen minutes to text her the all clear, to let her know that she can come and execute the surprise.

It takes her an almost comical amount of time to find his room, considering it’s in the same hallway as everyone else’ rooms, and only ends up being three or four doors down from where she’d started. When she finally finds it, she’s hit with a sudden wave of anxiety.

What if he doesn’t want me here? She worries. Her hands get clammy and she stands there in front of the door like a complete idiot just waiting for her body to do something, to do anything. Finally, she brings her fist to the door and knocks.

Voices are muffled and heavy feet shuffle on the other side of the door before finally, after what feels like an eternity of loud bickering from the boys about who’s going to open the door, Chris is face to face with Charles, stupid, toothy grin on her face. “Oh,” he says.

Behind him, the guys jeer in French, but neither of them are paying any attention. Chris can't stop laughing, standing there, staring at Charles in the doorway. He stares right back, his eyes a window into the gears that turn behind them, processing… processing… processing so incredibly slowly. “Are you gonna hug me, or just stare at me?” She finally asks, and he laughs, snapping into reality, pulling her into a tight hug.

“What are you doing here?” He questions, pressing a hard kiss into her hair, and then he laughs even harder. “How did you get here?”

– – –

Chris isn’t there for more than a couple days—she has to be back at work as winter break winds to a close, and Charles has training camp in Italy at the end of the week. It’s a quick visit, but they make the most of it, and they do get their new year’s eve kiss.

It’s been, like, a month and a half since Chris was last in Monaco, but it’s been just two and a half weeks since someone posted a TikTok of Charles and her walking around Monte Carlo together. That means, it’s been two weeks of Chris stumbling upon, and falling down rabbit holes of, Charles’ fan accounts desperately trying to put a face to the back of the head of the girl in the video.

She’s less interested in are they going to figure out who I am and more interested in are they at least, like, close? The answer is no. No, they are not even kind-of close to connecting Chris with him. It’s all models and friends and people he follows on Instagram and even one ex-girlfriend, but definitely no American kindergarten teachers.

The fire is only fed, though, when on New Year’s Eve, drunk on Moscow Mules and equipped with the world’s most fashionable LED glasses, Charles is posted showing off the look. Under his arm, equally as drunk off espresso martinis, is Chris, engaged in conversation with Joris beside her.

It’s been two-thousand twenty-three for fifteen minutes, and Instagram explore pages across the world are already filled with pictures of the side of her head and Charles’ goofy heart-eyed glasses.

Chris is too drunk to know, much less care, but when she does find out about it, she won’t be bothered. She thinks that maybe she never will be a big deal—certainly not as big of one as he seems to think it is. Nothing is going to happen, she tells him so many times it doesn’t even sound like a sentence anymore. Who cares if everyone figures out who I am?

January isn’t much but settling into a routine. They’re both busy with a million and one different things—just a little peek into any sort of future they hope to have together—and it’s the end of the month before they see each other in person again.

Every post he makes on social media—every video, photo, story, mention, and repost is run through a microscope, carefully dissected searching for a repeat like and commenter, for an unfamiliar woman’s voice or a hand or a coat or a head of hair. Names fly around in a tornado of guesses, and none of them are correct.

It’s an easy routine to fall into; scheduled phone calls, FaceTime dates twice a week, and sneakily sent texts in the middle of the workday. Sometimes it feels like they aren’t all that far apart, like he could walk out the front door and get into his car and drive for fifteen minutes and be at her house, eat dinner at the same table, fall asleep at the same time, in the same bed. Other times, they can feel every step of the four-thousand, six-hundred, ninety-five miles that separate them, when it’s all pictures of dinner and goodmorning texts seen three hours later and delayed, laggy FaceTime calls.

It’s on one of those calls, where her face is frozen mid-conversation, that she’s gushing about how excited she is for some school event at the end of the month, the Art show, she’d called it, and when—after sorting out the camera issue for the time being—he’d asked for clarification on what exactly an Art show is, she’d explained the whole event with a big, excited smile on her face.

“Oh my gosh!” She’d laughed, pulling her legs underneath her. “Okay, so, it’s the coolest thing. Basically, the art department displays all of the art the students have made so far this year all throughout the year, and the kids get to show it off to all their family. They set up a book fair in the library, and they serve ice-cream in the cafeteria,” she explains, “All the teachers go, and they bring their families, too,” she nods. “It’s really cool. I like to see how proud the kids are of their work.”

He decides then, in that very moment, that he doesn’t want to hear about this in text messages and photos and Facetime calls. He wants to be there—feel her energy, her pride, her smile. It just pours out of his mouth, what if I came? And then, before she can even come up with a response, If that’s okay, obviously. If you even would like, want that, you know.

She bites down on a smile. “I thought you wanted to keep things quiet?” she chuckles, “be all protective of me and stuff?”

Charles shrugs. “I don’t think anyone would believe I’m at a primary school’s art-fair in the middle-of-nowhere America.”

“I mean, I don’t care,” she explains, tucking her bangs behind her ears. “But you do. I’d love it if you could be there.”

He smiles. “You’d love it?”

“I would!” She laughs, leaning forward, closer to the camera. “You’d better come for more than just a day though,” she continues, slumping back against the couch behind her, picking at the cuticles on her thumb, raising her brows when she quietly adds: “I can think of lots of other things I’d love to do with you.”

He shakes his head, dimples digging into his cheeks. “You’re a tease, Christyn,” he taunts, and her head shoots up from her cuticle.

“You have such a dirty mind, Charlie!” she laughs, and his cheeks burn at the nickname, at the accusation.

“Don’t call me that,” he mutters, and she only laughs harder, smiles bigger.

“Why?” She teases, crossing her arms over her chest, cocking her head to the side playfully. “Because it makes you blush?”

– – –

There’s really only one of Chris’ students that Charles knows by name: Quinn. Or, as Chris usually refers to her, my sweet, sweet, little Quinnie. Quinnie is not at the art show. Chris goes on to explain that she and her family are never at any of the school events—no open houses, no field trips, no choir recitals or art shows or parent teacher conferences. If it’s not a free event that takes place during school hours, neither Quinn or her siblings will be there, and their Mother will never be there because she’s always at work.

So, no Quinn to win over. He does, however, meet what may be the cutest kid he’s ever been face-to-face with in Landry, a little girl with two long brown braids and a strawberry patterned dress on. Landry is the first of her students to find their teacher, and completely ignores him to tug Chris’ arm towards the little girl’s artwork hung in the hallway.

“I’ll be right back,” she says hurriedly, over her shoulder, letting the little girl pull her away. Charles nods and flashes her a quick wink before she’s properly whisked away, leaving him with nothing better to do than shove his hands deep in his pockets and analyze the artwork of primary school students.

When she finds him again, no Landry in tow, she links her arm through his, leaning her head against his shoulder. “She told me I have a cute boyfriend,” she says.

“No, she did not,” He laughs, but his ears blush pink.

“She did,” she nods. “She said you were ‘oh my goodness he is soooooo cute,’” Chris repeats, in a sing-songy tone. “I said, ‘I know right! He’s the cutest.’”

“Whatever,” Charles mutters, running his other hand through his hair. “Where’s the ice-cream at, anyway?”

Two styrofoam bowls of vanilla ice-cream slices—one covered in rainbow sprinkles, the other with chocolate syrup and a maraschino cherry—later, and Chris and Charles are sitting at Chris’ desk in her classroom, him in the green spinning chair, her on the desk itself.

Two boys, who Chris refers to after they leave the room as Nash and Wyatt, are bouncing off the walls with excitement when they turn the corner into Chris’ classroom, their faces lighting up when they find her there. “Miss Elliott!” One of them shouts, half-out of breath. “The book fair has posters of your brother!” He explains.

“Yeah!” The other chimes in. “I see-ed it when my sister was getting a poster of,” he takes a big breath, “of, uh, a princess poster or something.”

“Yeah, and I get-ted this one!” The first kid adds, unrolling the paper in this hand to reveal a black and white Fortnite poster, demonstrating the dances from the game. “Cool right?” He asks, and Chris nods.

“So cool!” She says, “where are you going to hang it?”

Charles leans back in the chair, spinning slightly side to side, eating his ice-cream and just observing the interaction.

“Um, probably in my bedroom.”

Chris nods again, “perfect place for it,” she agrees.

– – –

He’s in Georgia for three days; Friday to Sunday, and spends all of it with Chris, almost entirely at her house. The art show is on Friday night, but he finds himself playing sleepover host with Chris on Saturday when Reid appears with a backpack, a pillow, and a baby blanket Chris tells him not to refer to as a baby blanket.

Chase is racing in Los Angeles this weekend, and left town on Tuesday, leaving Hannah alone on Mom duty. That would be all fine, if the weekend didn’t fall on the one weekend a month she works. Bill, Cindy, Chris, and Hannah’s mom have been helping to pick up the slack left in Chase’ absence.

It all comes together to result in him sitting in the middle of the living room, on the floor, surrounded by every blanket and pillow in the entire house on a Saturday night—a four-year-old boy sitting across from him, hanging on his every word, and his girlfriend in the other room making popcorn.

He’s been tasked with coming up with, and executing the plan for a super, super, cool boy-fort that Auntie Chris can come into, I guess.

A fort that fits into that description is a lot easier in theory. In Practice, however, he’s faced with the nephew he desperately needs the approval of, and a pile of purple and pink and sparkly and fluffy blankets and pillows.

It takes all four of the dining table chairs, a curtain rod from the screened-in porch, a fitted sheet, and a box fan, but the fort is quickly commissioned, and gets Reid’s stamp of approval when he moves his pillow, favorite blanket, and definitely not a baby-blanket, baby-blanket into the build.

Chris is behind them momentarily, knocking on the seat of one of the dining chairs before Reid permits her to enter. She crawls in, laptop and big bowl of popcorn in either hand. Reid is sandwiched between the two of them, Cars blanket covering his little frame, eyes glued to the screen while buttery fingers bury themselves in the popcorn bowl.

Reid is asleep about five minutes after the popcorn bowl is empty, Chris running her fingers through his short brown hair while soft little snores leave his lips. Her head rests on his pillow, just above his head, and she watches the movie. Charles watches her, arm propped up at the elbow, holding his head up. She’s so soft. So sweet. It ties him up in knots.

He feels like a child when she catches him staring, her eyes glancing over to him and making unexpected contact. His cheeks burn and his eyes dart away, back to the screen, to the movie. She giggles softly, barely loud enough for him to hear over his sudden mortification. “Beautiful fort you’ve built here,” she says, and he looks back at her, meets her eyes properly this time.

“Thank you,” he chuckles. “I’m thinking maybe I will make it my new career after racing.” Charles nods. Chris nods. A smile dances its way across her lips, turning the corners up gently. It makes him smile, too. “Charles Leclerc: Professional fort builder.”

“Oh,” She chuckles. “I can hear it now. You’ll be a household name.”When Charles wakes up, credits are rolling on the laptop screen and Chris’ hand is moving softly over his shoulder. He’s the bridge of his nose and picking the sleep out of his eyes and trying to get his bearings. All he’s sorted out so far is that Chris is here, he’s fucking boiling, and there’s a sleeping kid between them. He squints his eyes—like the dim light from the black credit screen is too bright for him—until she comes into focus. She points to the exit of the fort. “Bed,” she mouths.

“Well,” Chris shrugs, bringing a forkful of salad to her mouth. “I think you’ve won Reid over.”

Charles laughs on her phone screen. He’s in Italy… or Monaco… or… she’s not really sure, to be honest. It’s hard to keep track sometimes, when he’s always somewhere new. He’s in bed, wherever he is, the lamp from her kitchen casting the only light in his dark room. “Is that right?”

“Oh yeah,” she nods. “I had the pleasure of reminding him you weren’t here this afternoon. He wasn’t happy with me.” She remembers it well, his declaration that Charles and Me are going to play games today, and remembers better the little, defeated oh, right after she had to remind him Charles had left the day before.

Charles chuckles, shaking his head and rolling his eyes playfully. “I told him goodbye!”

“I know!” She says, taking another bite, her hand covering her mouth while she talks around the lettuce. “He thought you meant goodbye for the day,” she explains, swallowing. “Not goodbye for a while.”

Charles frowns. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!” Chris laughs, poking her fork around her bowl. “I love that he likes you so much, it’s adorable,” she hums. “He’s absolutely devastated you won’t be at his birthday party, though.”

Charles scoffs, his mouth dramatically falling open. “No way. You didn't tell me it was his birthday!”

“Because it’s not for like, two weeks!” She defense, laughing. “I wasn’t even thinking about it.”

“When is it?”

She cocks her head to the side, already knowing what he’s about to say, and unscrews the top of her water bottle. “His birthday’s the sixteenth, but the party is the eighteenth.”

“I’ll be there.”

“No you won’t. You have testing.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah,” she insists. “On Monday you have to be in Bahrain.”

“Monday is not Saturday.”

Chris doesn’t tell anyone outside of Chase and Hannah that Charles is flying in, and they definitely don’t tell Reid about it, just in case it falls through for any of the million reasons it could possibly fall through because of.

It was a last minute-trip, after all, and it seems like every second of Charles’ time is accounted for right now, so Chris is prepared at any moment to get a text or a call apologetically explaining that he got pulled into something else. That call never comes, and she picks him up from the airport late Friday night, just in time to bicker in the middle of a liquor store about wine.

“Absolutely not, baby.” He says, shaking his head, a truly horrified look on his face.

“You don’t even drink wine!” She insists, holding a three-liter box of Franzia. “This is perfectly fine.”

His eyes go wide, brows raising like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “It’s in a box.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s for a fifth birthday party.”

“It’s not for the five-year-old,” he argues, picking two bottles of overpriced chardonnay from the shelf. “We’ll get these.”

– – –

Much to the dismay of the other, they show up to the party the next afternoon with one box and one bottle.

Reid is upstairs playing with some kid that Chris is related to somehow, she’s sure, so their arrival goes unnoticed by the birthday boy. Instead, Chris is heaving the box of wine onto the kitchen island, greeting a visibly stressed Hannah with a hug. Charles follows closely behind, setting his bottle down next to her box, following the hug train to Hannah.

“Look great, as always, Hannah,” He says, and Hannah laughs.

“I’m a mess, the house is a mess. Reid,” she looks to Chris, “Lord have mercy on me, your nephew has dressed himself.”

Chris scowls, and then shrugs. Charles laughs. “He can be Chandler’s nephew, today,” she says.

“He’s still your godson, though,” Hannah reminds.

“Oh, don’t I know it!”

Charles takes Chris’ coat with his own, hands them both up in the mud room that’s just off the kitchen. He hears Hannah calling for Reid while he does it, telling him to come down and say hello to your auntie. Auntie Chris. He loves the way Reid says it—Annie Chris—or, when he really wants to stir some shit up, which Charles has come to learn is just about all of the time, Reid will call her Miss Elliott.

Everyone hears him before they see him, little feet making heavy noises as they hurry down the stairs so quickly he might as well have just jumped off the landing and tuck’n’rolled his way into the kitchen. He’s bouncing on his feet, talking to Chris animatedly with his back turned to Charles when he appears in the mud-room doorway. Immediately, Chris is glancing up to him and covering Reid’s eyes with her hands, turning him to face Charles. “I have a surprise for you, Reidy.”

“What?” He squirms. “What is it?”

“More like who is it?” Hannah says, and Reid gasps.

“Chucky?” He asks, and Chris is grinning at Charles, adjusting her hands over the boy’s eyes so one hand covers them both. With the other hand, she pokes Reid’s side right where he’s ticklish and makes him giggle.

“Who?” She asks, his belly laugh making her laugh, too.

“Sharles!” Reid exclaims, breathless from laughing so hard. “Sha-rle,” He laughs out, enunciating the poorly mocked accent.

“Wrong,” Chris says, and then takes her hand off his eyes to reveal Charles.

Reid is slamming into Charles’ legs before he can even squat down to give the kid a proper hug, settling for just hugging his legs. “You comed!” He cheers.

“Come on, Mate!” Charles says, ruffling the little boy’s hair. “You didn’t think I would miss such an important birthday?”

Chris watches the whole interaction with a giddy smile on her face. Hannah watches, too, while she stirs a crock pot full of nacho cheese. Reid fills Charles in on everything that’s happened to him since Charles left, and is already asking if Charles wants to go play catch outside with the football he’s gotten from his dad earlier that week, on his actual birthday. When Hannah slides behind Chris, between her body and the cabinets, muttering a quick behind you and grabbing a ladle from a drawer, she gives Chris’ shoulder a soft squeeze.

– – –

Chris is MIA when Bill and Cindy turn up, arms full of food and gifts for their only grandchild, but Charles is in the backyard, standing around a smoking fire pit with Chase and Reid and other people he remembers meeting from the wedding, but who’s names he wouldn’t be able to remember if there was a gun held to his temple.

Bill and Cindy wander out shortly after they arrive, looking for the birthday boy, and Charles handles the introductions all by himself—a handshake to Dad, a compliment to Mom, and hugs for both of them. He knows how to charm. Knows he’s going to be working at it for a while, probably. He’s more than willing to put in the hours.

“I didn’t know you were comin’, son,” Bill says, and Charles is nodding, hands in his jacket pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Yeah, it was a kind of… last minute choice.”

“Aw,” Cindy hums. “What a sweetheart. How long are you in town for?”

“Just a couple days,” he explains. “Chris is off work this week, but I have to get to Bahrain in a couple days. Get used to the timezone and everything.”

“Ah,” Bill nods. “Season’s starting up again, that right?”

“Eh,” he shrugs. “It never stops, it feels like,” and Bill nods.

“Don’t I know it, boy.”

“Is Chrissy planning on coming out to any of your races?” Cindy asks, linking her arm through Bill’s, leaning against him around the fire. “I know she told us that y’all are keeping it pretty hush-hush for now.”

“Eventually, I hope she can,” he says. “I don’t want to have her come if she doesn’t feel comfortable.”

Cindy nods, smiling to herself. “Smart answer, honey,” she says, and Bill laughs. “You’re a good egg.” Charles chuckles softly, if only because he doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s been called a lot of things over the years, but good egg might be a new one.

Just then, Chris is pushing open the sliding door on the back deck, stepping out with her coat on, the hood pulled up over her head, her hands hidden in the sleeves. “Well, speak of the Devil,” Bill says, greeting his daughter with a tight hug.

“Uh oh,” Chris laughs, following suit with a hug for her mom, too. “Y’all are talking about me?”

He’s come to learn that her accent is never anywhere as strong as it is when she's around family. He’s familiar with the pattern of it, and does the same thing after long breaks away from speaking English or Italian. It takes a while to settle back into translating your thoughts. He thinks it’s probably pretty similar, even if she’s not translating from another language. He thinks it’s cute, when the southern twang gets extra prominent. It’s cute, and it’s sweet, and she sounds like a movie character sometimes.

She slots into her comfortable position at Charles’ side, and his arm is tossing itself over her shoulder before he even realizes it’s happening. It’s habit, almost, to keep her close. “Always,” he says.

– – –

They’re cute and annoyingly couple-ey all night. He doesn’t care if she’s related to or friends with almost everyone here, he’s never not amazed at just how easily she can find home in any conversation. Sometimes he wonders if he looks as awestruck about it as he feels, watching her put on this masterclass with everyone she talks to—from passing, brief conversations about how good Hannah’s food is and how old Reid is getting, to the long, sit-down chats about work and her life and their lives. It’s so crystal clear that she makes everyone feel important—the most important person in the room—and he;s even starting to remember names.

There’s a lot of names to remember.

There’s nobody that feels quite as important to Chris as Charles does, though, he’s sure of it. In fact, he’s not sure there’s another person on Earth that could manage to make a social event into something so… recharging for him. She just radiates energy, truly. It’s in the atmosphere, just being in her proximity, just having an arm around her or their fingers intertwined or the smell of her perfume on his clothes is enough.

He loves her so horribly that he’s almost sick with it. He’s biting his tongue all night. Hell, he’s even trying to talk himself out of the now months old revelation.

Like, she drinks wine from a fucking box. A box. Of wine. And she sees absolutely no problem with it. She wants to drag him around to every person, to engage in every conversation. She changed her perfume or her shampoo or her laundry detergent or something, because she smells different than the last time he was with her. She drives like an elderly woman—Jesus fucking Christ, she takes the speed limit so seriously it’s hard to sit in the passenger seat and let it happen. She cried three times on the way from Atlanta. Three times, because she saw some roadkill that wasn't even identifiable, and couldn’t stop thinking about it. She’s covered in glitter, like, all the time. And so is her stuff. It’s on her face and her hands and her clothes and every surface of her house. Glitter and spelling tests and like, six variations of the same travel coffee mug. She listens to country music as if it’s the only genre of music that exists, and she listens to it all the time. He doesn’t love her. He doesn’t. If he did, he wouldn't have been able to keep it in for so long.

He doesn’t love her, and then she laughs and he can feel it in his fucking gut, feels the urge to laugh even when he doesn’t get the joke, even when he misses entirely what is making her so happy. He wants to laugh because she’s laughing and her laugh makes the world a better place and he loves her so bad it hurts.

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querenciasturniolo · 5 months

Note

so glad ur reqs are back open, it's been too long

anyways, idea where chris goes on a blind date one of his brothers set up for him and just has the time of his life with this girl, eventually leading to them sharing a kiss at the end of the night

nonsense ⮕ c.s.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: swearing, chris’ pov, frustration, fluff, a smooch (i’m not sorry for being corny), like one use of y/n

summary: request

a/n: agreed, it’s been WAY too long. i’m obsessed with this concept, thank you so much for sending it in 🫶🏻

p.s. this is my all time favorite picture of chris. he just looks so fucking pretty i cab’t handle it

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

“And you’re sure about this?” Chris said into the speaker, the sigh on the other end of the phone had him rolling his eyes.

“Yes, Chris. I’m sure about this, could you just trust me for once?”

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. Matt’s attitude this entire conversation had him on his last nerve.

“Okay fine, I’ll just let you know how it goes.” He grumbled, hanging up the phone and sliding it in his pocket.

If he were being honest, he really hated Matt right now. Okay, he didn’t hate him, but he wasn’t too happy with him in the slightest. Matt set him up on this date, and if it weren’t for both of his brothers shoving him out the door and into his Uber, he wouldn’t be in this restaurant waiting for you.

Chris decided that the moment he saw you, he was going to let you down easy. Maybe tell you he wasn’t ready to go on a date with someone he didn’t know. Matt had shown him a picture of you, and vouched for your greatness the entire time Nick was throwing outfits in his face for him to try on. If he was honest, Nick and Matt were more enthused about this blind date than he was.

“Chris?”

Chris looked up from his hands with furrowed brows, his mind going completely blank when his eyes met yours. You looked better in person, and because of it, his nerves skyrocketed.

Wow.

You frowned. “What?” You asked, Chris’ cheeks flushed red at the realization that he’d said that out loud.

“Nothing, um. Hi, yeah. I’m Chris. You’re Y/n?” He stood from his chair as you nodded and awkwardly stuck out his hand. You looked down at his hand with an amused look and met his eyes again as you tentatively shook it.

Jesus, this is already going well.

“How do you know Matt?” Chris asked, pulling your chair out for you and pushing it in once you sat.

“Wow, a gentleman.” You teased, smiling at Chris from across the table as he sat back down. You shrugged and reached for the glass of water in front of him. He watched your movements like a hawk as you took a sip from his glass and sat it back down. “Oh you know, it’s LA. Everyone knows everyone.” You said, Chris raising an eyebrow and nodding his head. “I’m kidding.” You said with a grin. “I’m a friend of Madi’s. Matt came to pick Nick up one night when all three of us were hanging out, and he sparked up a conversation.”

Chris nodded, the pressure in his chest relieving a bit when he realized at least one of his brothers knew you more than just your name and face.

“Sorry about the blind date thing, I don’t even know why they thought it’d be a good idea.” Chris said humorlessly, his brows furrowing when seeing your expression drop.

“This is a blind date?” You whispered, Chris’ stomach dropping as he fumbled over his words to apologize. Before a single, coherent sentence could leave his lips, a smile broke out across your face and you covered your mouth with your hand.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry. I was trying to break the tension, bad joke, that’s my fault.” You said, covering your amused laugh with a cough. Chris chuckled nervously and nodded.

“Of course, yeah.” He mumbled, taking a sip of his water and looking around the restaurant awkwardly.

You cleared your throat, his eyes immediately flickering to your incredulous stare.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, you know that right? I can text Matt and say that this was a bad idea.” You said.

It almost relaxed him a bit to know that you were willing to end the date to make him more comfortable, and instead of doing what he’d planned on in the first place, he shook his head.

“No, it’s fine. I’m just a little nervous.”

It was obvious that he was nervous, why the hell would he say that? Maybe he should just cancel this date, go home, and tell Matt that if he ever had another person to set him up with, to not bother.

“I am, too.” You said, catching his attention. He frowned and tilted his head to the side.

“Why are you nervous?” He asked, a soft scoff coming from your lips.

“I’m on a date with a guy I’ve never met at the advice of his brothers that I barely know, you could be a murderer, Chris.” You said. Chris rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“You really think I could be a murderer when I’m sweating fucking bullets just trying to figure out what to say to you?” He asked.

You nodded your head. “You could be sweating because you’re worried about getting caught.” You said. Chris snorted and grinned down at his lap. “There we go, I knew I could get you to smile.”

Chris looked up at you then, your own smile beaming as you scanned his face. He squared his shoulders and set his gaze on you. “How about we start over?” He asked. Your smile grew impossibly wider and you nodded. He cleared his throat dramatically. “Hi, I’m Chris. I’m not a murderer, and I’d like to get to know you.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Hi, I’m Y/n. I’m glad you’re not a murderer, and that was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

The rest of the dinner went by smoothly, the both of you laughing and joking and flirting, much to Chris’ surprise, like you’d been doing it your whole life. It wasn’t until the two of you were walking towards your car that he realized this date was over, and he really didn’t want it to be.

“I had fun.” He said, his voice coming out soft as you dug through your bag for your keys. You met his eyes and smiled shyly.

“So did I.” You replied, dropping your hands to your sides and looking around the empty parking lot.

Chris wanted to ask if you would like to go out again, maybe at a more casual location that wouldn’t have both of your nerves going crazy, but before he could, you met his eyes again.

“Do you want a ride home?” You asked. Chris scoffed.

“Now who sounds like a murderer?”

You rolled your eyes and bit your lip to contain your smile. “It’s a yes or no question, you ass. The offer expires soon, you better think fast.” You teased, reaching for the door handle as Chris shook his head and walked towards the passenger seat.

“My brothers have my location, so don’t get any ideas.”

The drive to his house consisted of the two of you chattering over the music he insisted on playing, much to your disdain. But as much as you complained about how it all sounded the same to you, he couldn’t help but notice the soreness of his cheeks from smiling so much.

“Well.” You started, putting the car in park and turning to face him. “Home sweet home.”

He glanced out the window at the house, disappointment clouding his mood as he nodded.

“I guess I’ll see you around.” He said. You mumbled a goodbye as he stepped out of the car. He had barely heard the door latch before he scoffed and ripped the car door back open. He climbed into the passenger seat and leaned over the console, his face inches from your shocked one.

“Do you want to go out again sometime?” He asked, his breath fanning across your face. You nodded slowly and blinked up at him. He grinned down at you, his eyes flickering to your lips before he nodded. “Good.”

His lips were pressed to yours before he could even register what he was doing, his entire body feeling as though it was igniting in flames. You were hesitant at first, but sooner rather than later you were sinking into it and humming against his lips. He pulled away and smiled softly at you.

“I’ll text you.” He mumbled. You nodded again, your eyes dazed as you watched him step out of the car and shut the door.

He was grinning the entire walk to the house, and even when he stepped into the living room. Matt and Nick were sitting on the couch, trying their best to look like they were there for any other reason than to ask him how it went. Matt saw his face first, and his smirk was smug.

“I told you you’d have a good time.” He said. Chris rolled his eyes for what felt like the millionth time that night.

“Yeah, yeah. I need her number off of one of you. Preferably, like, now.” He said, never stopping his movements as he made his way down the stairs to his bedroom. His phone vibrated in his pocket as he dropped down onto his bed. Good, one of them sent him your contact information.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the notification without even reading it, a grin spreading across his face at the contents of the message.

now, what was that nonsense about you texting me?

tags: @strniolo , @toyourloves , @ssturniolo , @jellybeanbby , @thetriplets3 , @mxriverse , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @dwntwn-strnlo , @tylerscreat0r , @lvrsparadise , @angelcake-222 , @20nugs , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #querenciasturniolo

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sluts4matt · 1 month

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Can you do one where y/n is inlove with nate since she was 14 but she's the sturniolo tirplets little sister and her best friend is in love with nate now she's 19 and still in love with him, she is dating this bot but he's not so nice to her and nate gets mad at him and one night y/n gone to nate while he was in LA and tells him that her boyfriend broke up with her because she didn't want to lose her virginity to him, nate is there for her so she kisses him realizing she betrayed her friend and brothers but nate tells her he likes her back they go on a couple of dates and 8 mouths later y/n loses her virginity to her high school crush meanwhile they have sex y/n best friend comes over and her best friend and her brothers didn't know they were dating till they hear her moan/or nate and y/n feels like bad friend but none of them actually care

SECRET

pairing: nate doe x sls!erika sturniolo

summary: she had hidden her feelings away for years, but with growing up and toxic relationships it was all starting to resurface.

warnings: none

word count: 1631

authors note: a miniseries, whaaat. i am so fucking sorry this took me as long as it did @mssturniolo, next chapter in a few days most likely.

having feelings for your brothers' best friend had always been a no go. or at least that's what the movies always taught me, i found myself loving the trope from a young age, before i truly understood what liking a boy meant.

now i know, and am in fact involved with the same beloved trope of all of my favorite movies.

the feeling was planted when I was fourteen, my mom and brothers brought me to watch a friends hockey game. his blue eyes and blonde curls captivated me basically immediately. of course, i knew about the infamous nathan doe, he had been nick, matt, and chris' best friend since middle school.

i just hadn't had an actual conversation with him until he skated up to our area. nick, matt, and chris had all been freshmans' in high school while me and nate were still stuck in the eighth grade.

he had skated right up to us, the biggest smile i had ever seen, which i had thought was impossible because of the contagious one chris almost always wore. "hey guys'," he grinned, "hey erika," he said, the name falling from his mouth as if he had spoken it a thousand times before.

my cheeks flushed as i nodded and gave him a small wave. the butterflies felt instant and like they weren't gonna go away. the buzzer rang, signaling for everyone to get in their positions.

we watched as nate skated away on the ice, the silver blade of his ice skates carrying him away. "always such a sweet boy," i heard my mother marylou state from beside me.

after watching the game and watching nate score the winning goal, we all made our way out of the arena, nate quickly joining us. he swung an arm around chris' shoulder as he fell in stride beside me.

"you guys did good," i state, ignoring the heat i felt going to my cheeks. "yeah?" he asks, his boston accent thick, and i can tell he wants me to keep talking. "yeah, it was pretty impressive," i say. "im glad you thought so," he replies, and his smile is even wider now.

i feel my face heat up more as the words 'he's talking to me!' repeat in my head. "you guys staying the night?" he asks, turning to the three boys who all looked basically identical.

"can we?" the three of them ask, practically jumping up and down. "of course!" marylou answers, and the four of them start cheering.

my alarm blared, bangs coming from my door. "hurry up erika," i could hear nicks agitated voice, "you're gonna make us late," he continued with a groan.

i looked over at my phone, seeing that my alarm had been going off for ten minutes now. a gasp left my lips as i got up, frantically moving around my bedroom.

i pulled the first clothes from my drawers that my hands landed on, pulling my pajamas off and replacing them. i quickly put on deodorant and brushed my teeth before brushing through my hair. i applied a few layers of mascara to my eyelashes, watching the black envelop them and make them longer and bolder.

i heard nick groan once again, as i walked to my door. i opened it being met with his eyes staring down at me, "what's the point of an alarm if you don't wake up to it?"

"hurry up," chris sang from the bottom of the stairs, "we have to go get nate."

a smile was brought to my lips, before i quickly replaced it. nate and i had gotten closer in the past two years, most of our freshman classes were with each other so we grew accustomed to each other's company.

he always came to our house after practice or games, sometimes he would just show up unannounced to hang out, typically with the boys, sometimes me if they were busy.

he was an incredibly sweet person, he was always helping around the house and never expected anything in return. he was also extremely funny and had a great sense of humor and could make even the toughest situations funny.

"bye mom," the four of us stated, walking out the door. me and nick got in the back of the van while matt and chris sat in the front, matt being the driver.

nick started a conversation with the three of us, one that i mostly tuned out, only catching a few words here and there. the drive to nates house was short, like always.

matt parked by the curb and i watched chris pull out his phone to send nate a text. not even a minute later nate was walking out of his front door, a black baseball cap sat backwards on his head, his blonde hair peaking out slightly.

he wore a grey sweatshirt and black jeans, a bag slung over his shoulder. a wide grin appeared on his face as he saw the car, running and throwing himself into the back.

"morning," he smiled towards us all, scooting in beside me. "morning," we all mumbled, giving tired smiles. "why are you so happy," nick grumbled, leaning his head against the window.

"because we get to go to school, where they'll teach us, and fill our heads with knowledge," he said, grinning. "okay, now the truth," i giggle, poking his side.

his hand grabbed my finger, holding it. a smile stayed on his face, as his thumb grazed over the back of my finger, sending goosebumps up my arms. "i just have a good feeling about today," he answered. "okay psychic," chris joked, not taking notice to nate's hang wrapped around my index finger.

"well im glad you're so happy," matt added, smiling at nate. "are you guys excited for homecoming?" nate asked, looking at us. "no," me and matt respond at the same time, neither of us were one for big crowds and god knew that's what homecoming would be.

chris and nick on the other hand, had already bought tickets and were planning their outfits. chris was planning to take some girl named juliette while nick was trying to figure out how to ask his best friend to go as friends.

no one knew who nate was going with, at least not me. he didn't talk about it much in all honestly, today had been the second time i've heard anything from him about it in a month.

"who are you taking again?" chris asked, turning back to the three of us. "ava," nate smiled, causing my heart to drop. ava michaels was pretty, i had always envied her.

the way her skin looked flawless and clear all the time, her clothes, everything. her eyes were a deep blue color, and her hair was a dark brown color, almost black. her lips were plump and naturally pink, she was known as one of the prettiest girls in our school.

"lock it down bro, we'll be popular forever," nick joked. "it's not a date," nate chuckled, "just friends," he added, causing me to let out a breath i hadn't realized i was holding.

out of the corner of my eye, i could see nate look over at me, though i chose to ignore it. the rest of the drive was silent, except for the occasional joke or two.

when we finally arrived, matt parked the car in his original parking slot, putting it in park before he turned the key over, shutting the ignition off.

the four of us unbuckled and exited the vehicle, following the stream of kids entering the school.

the day seemed to move by in a flash, and i had found myself in the library, sitting next to nate, waiting for the bell to ring so the librarian could tell us what our english teacher had planned.

"did you do the homework?" i heard nate whisper. i looked over at him, his head was laying down on his crossed arms. "yes," i state, already pulling the paper from my bag so he can copy the answers.

i watched his eyes widen slightly, before a small smirk fell onto his lips. he sat up, scooting his chair closer to mine. his knee brushed against mine as he copied the answers, the touch sending a shiver down my spine.

he was close enough that i could smell his cologne, and i had to admit that i liked it. "thanks," he whispered, putting his paper away as the librarian began speaking.

"welcome, welcome, mrs. wilson called out sick very last minute, not giving us time to find a substitute," she explained.

"so instead you all will be working with a peer partner, groups of two, mrs. wilson says she doesn't mind who you work with as long as you're quiet and respectful," she finished, a smile appearing on her face.

"any questions?" she asked, but no one raised their hand. "perfect," she grinned, "get in groups of two," she said.

"hey partner," nate grinned, and the butterflies in my stomach erupted. "hey," i smiled, feeling a blush fall onto my cheeks. "so what do you wanna do?" he asked, his knee bumping into mine again, this time purposefully.

"shakespeare?" i suggest, and he nods, a smile on his lips. "what's your favorite play?" i ask, pulling out a sheet of notebook paper. "romeo and juliet," he smiles, making me smile as well.

"i knew you were basic," i joked, and his jaw dropped. "im not basic," he defended, a fake gasp escaping his lips.

i laughed, rolling my eyes as i wrote the title of the play on the paper. "we could compare and contrast the original play with the movie," he suggested, and i nodded, writing.

"good idea, let's start."

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @lily-strnlo @etvar12 @iloveurgf @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolho @mayhem-72 @nicksmainbitch @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @catalina-island @stars4chratt @gbaabyyyy @monkeyscientist22

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khruschevshoe · 3 months

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How Behind-the Scenes Issues Affected the Writing of Doctor Who (Both Good and Bad)

Doctor Who is such a fascinating show to look at from a Watsonian v. Doylist perspective. Like, entirely just from an episode writing point of view:

Twice Upon A Time feels so slow and meandering and even boring in places because Chris Chibnall didn't want to start his run as showrunner and Steven Moffat didn't want the show to lose the coveted Christmas timeslot (ironic, I know) so he bumped the Twelfth Doctor's regeneration from the end of The Doctor Falls (where it makes sense) to the end of the Christmas special

Boom Town (my beloved) only exists because originally there was going to be an episode in its spot explaining that Rose had been molded to be the Doctor's perfect companion (by the Doctor, gross) and the writer didn't have the time to commit to the show

The ending of Last Christmas feels like one inside-a-dream too many because originally Jenna Coleman was questioning whether she was going to leave the show or not and the ending was rewritten after the first readthrough when she decided she wanted to stay for another season

The first five episodes of Season 7 feel like each one takes place in a different genre because that's literally how Steven Moffat pitched it to the writers; for example, A Town Called Mercy was literally pitched as "Doctor Who does a Western"

Not so much a weird one but one I find cool: Eleven's first words and Thirteen's first words were literally written by Moffat and Chibnall respectively, as they were brought in to write the first words of the first Doctors of their runs so as to make it cohesive

The reason why Fourteen isn't wearing Thirteen's clothes when he regenerates is because Jodie Whittaker is much shorter than David Tennant and Russell T. Davies didn't want it to look like he was making fun of the genderfluidity of the Doctor (still think he made the wrong decision, but eh)

Wilfred Mott isn't in the Runaway Bride and Donna's father isn't in Partners in Crime because the actor who played Donna's father, Howard Attfield, died after filming several scenes for Partners In Crime, leading to the character of "Stan Mott" from Voyage of the Damned being written into Partners In Crime as Donna's grandfather

Astrid Peth doesn't die in the original drafts of Voyage of the Damned, but Russell T. Davies wrote what is generally considered one of the most emotional deaths in Doctor Who just because he wanted Kylie Minogue to be able to focus on her music career

Originally Oxygen was written as a prequel to Mummy on the Orient Express, where a corporate representative appeared on a monitor. Said representative was fired for his fumbling of the station and would later live on as the company computer, Gus

During Season 11, Chris Chibnall had to do some major rewrites for many of the one-off episodes, therefore The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos ended up being a first draft that made it to screen. He later admitted it was his least favorite episode of the series

And this is only a fraction of what I found in terms of major behind-the-scenes writing reasons. Though I am still totally willing to critique the product that made it to our screens, finding out the reasons behind some of the more badly written episodes of the show really made me feel sympathy for every showrunner of the show as well as appreciate a lot of the good episodes that ended up here despite the short production schedule/unexpected problems (once again, Boom Town my beloved AND everyone's favorite companion Wilfred Mott only exist because of unforseen problems). Absolutely bonkers, isn't it?

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livlaughloveluke · 1 month

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Reader getting neglected by her mom Hera bc she was a mistake? And Luke convincing her to join him and in the end she does- or she doesn't bc she is still loyal to Hera and Luke leaves her because of itt

𝗚𝗢𝗗𝗗𝗘𝗦𝗦 - 𝗟.𝗖 🫧

luke castellan x daughter of hera! reader 🦚

summary- basically just the request

warnings- use of y/n, few curse words, female reader, spoilers for tlt, heart wrenching angst

[a/n]- a lot of lines inspired by the last episode of the good place (literally my favorite show) and a line from the song “anything” used

2.3k

You were a mistake.

There was no alternative way to phrase it, at least not in the eyes of your godly mother, Hera. You were conceived in a fit of jealousy; your mom wanted to get petty revenge on Zeus for some clueless error he made. And so, within the blink of an eye, she transformed into a mere mortal and seduced a random man, otherwise known as your father.

When you stumbled into camp, bruised and bloody from a Cyclops attack, not a soul expected you to be the malicious goddess's daughter. Hera was loyal to her husband, even claiming multiple times that she forebode affairs, only allowing Zeus to commit the unfaithful acts. However, while she may have been the goddess of marriage, her extreme jealousy overpowered them all.

Which is why she detested you. You were a symbol of her errors, a constant reminder of her regretful affair.

You had a total of two interactions with her, the first one being her claiming of you and the second one being a spiel about how she resented and wanted absolutely nothing to do with a ‘disgrace.’

She was the reason you were so alone your whole life. There were no siblings to talk with, no mom to spend time with, and no father who could actively be present. In fact, the cabin hadn’t even been furnished when you arrived; no one thought your mother would commit infidelity.

With no bed to sleep in, at least until the one Mr. D ordered online arrived, you stayed in the Hermes cabin, a place welcoming to all. You were fourteen when you met Luke Castellan, who had already been claimed by his father and who generously made you feel included. He stayed up with you on those late nights, helping to calm you while you vented about your neglectful mother, and he saved you a spot at the picnic tables when no one else would.

From that point on, you and Luke had formed an incredible relationship. Even after you moved back into Cabin 2, you remained close friends. Seeing that you were the only daughter of Hera, you joined Cabin 11 for the daily activities, which only amplified your connection with the boy. Eventually, with the help of your friends, Chris and Clarisse, Luke worked up the courage to ask you out. You happily obliged, and ever since then, you have been dating.

Four years later, your bond with the boy was admired by nearly all. The two of you were a symbol of hope—that even in the pandemonium of demigod life, you could find love. As you grew into young adulthood, you became a profound woman, one with elegance and kindness, despite the hauntings of your past.

With Luke by your side, you began to love the simple joys life provided. You cared for the campers like your own kin, in hopes of providing the external fondness you were never granted as a child.

You and Annabeth became as close as ever, bonding over the experiences Camp Half-Blood provided. Her flawless skills in battle proved she didn’t need any protection, and yet you were always there to guard her from the dangers life presented. While Annabeth was reticent to most, after many weeks of being friends, she opened up to you.

You had that welcoming effect on nearly everyone, helping arrivals settle into their chaotic lifestyle. Which is how you ended up being chosen to complete a treacherous quest along with the new camper Percy, the satyr Grover, and your honorary little sister, Annabeth.

After packing the evening before departure, you headed to say goodbye to Luke. You both knew that the trip would be dangerous, with a chance you wouldn’t return, so you decided to relish in each other’s presence by the lake, just in case.

He sat on the dock while you lay in his lap, gently stroking your scalp as you watched the sun set and paint bright colors atop the sky.

“I’m gonna miss you.” You spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence.

“It’s only ten days. I went fourteen years without you; I can manage a week.” He said, smiling softly while looking down at you.

“Yeah. Ten days is nothing. I’d wait a hundred years for you.” You agreed, mirroring his expression. While you chatted, the colorful sky eventually faded into a deep blue, signaling that your time by the lake was coming to an end.

“Cmon, everyone’s asleep by now.“ He alerted you, standing up and offering you a hand. You accepted, interlocking your fingers and walking back to the cabins.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” You pondered as you strolled to Hera’s cabin. Sure, it was against the rules, but you just wanted to spend the last night with him. And what’s the worst you could do while surrounded by twenty other children?

“Course. The campers owe me a favor since I took them to the lake last Friday, so they won’t snitch.” Luke replied, changing course to the Hermes cabin.

Sleep came easy that night as you laid on Luke’s chest while his hands rested on your waist. Leaving the next morning was hard, but with the words from last night still present in your mind, you left with a smile.

The mission was nearly impossible, with monsters chasing you around every corner. After traveling to (literally) hell and back, you finally arrived back at camp.

Campers lined up cheering; a whole festival was planned for the victory brought by Percy. While most would miss the warm, safe beds in the cabins or the hot showers, you only craved one thing: your boyfriend. One short Iris message during your trip wasn’t enough. You wanted to listen to him blink, to listen to his hands soothe, to listen to his heart beating.

And so, within minutes of your arrival, you had found yourself embraced in Luke’s arms. All of your worries pertaining to the Lightning Thief faded away as you ran your fingers through his curls, your knees practically buckling at the sight of him.

“I missed you.” You whispered into his ear, swaying side to side as you hugged him.

“I missed you too. Camp hasn’t been the same.”

“I’m here now. We have all the time we need.”

“There’s too many people around. I found a new spot in the woods if you want to join me, and we can talk about the quest.” He spoke softly, his tone honey-sweet.

“Lead the way, Castellan.”

And so he dragged you deep into the secluded woods, the final location remaining a mystery as you hiked through hundreds of tall trees. The walk was suspiciously long, but with him, time seemed to fade away, and you grew blind to the flaming red flags.

Finally, you reached a clearing, surrounded by luscious greens. You both sat down, leaning your head on his shoulder as you glanced up at the stars. He was silent most of the journey to this unusual destination, just listening to you babble on about everything that happened during your time apart. And his nonverbal attitude didn’t disappear as you sat down, but this time you joined him in the comforting silence while staring up at the stars.

Gazing at him through the moonlight, you watched as his deep brown eyes lit up with a feeling you couldn’t determine. Curious, you queried what roamed his mind. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“I’m-“ he let out an angry sigh, pausing to gain composure. “I’m tired of the gods treating us like shit and getting away with it.” His indignant behavior staggered you, but Luke was prone to these fits of loathing after speaking to his neglectful father, so you assumed that’s what caused his wrath tonight.

“I know, and I’m sorry. Rough interaction with your dad again?” You tried to ration, hoping to calm his resentment, but instead it seemed to irritate him more. His jaw clenched with fury as he snapped at you.

“Why are you apologizing? Don’t defend the gods. They’re ruthless idiots who won’t even spare a glance in your direction.”

His cruel words made you question everything, praying this was just a dumb prank or something not as serious as he was letting on. Quietly, you asked what he meant. “What are you.. What are you saying?”

After a long pause, he looked away from you and spoke up. “I want you to join me. To join Kronos.”

Your heart sank upon his confession, and you scooted away from him frantically, standing up and trying to brace yourself for whatever he was going to do next. He lifted himself off the ground after you, taking a baby step closer.

“Kronos? You’re joking, right? Luke, please tell me you’re joking.”

You made eye contact with him, realizing that the mysterious tint in his eyes was now readable. It was hatred, pure evil.

“No. I can’t stand to watch them carelessly prance around while their children suffer. I’m standing against them, and I want you to be by my side.”

You grew vexed and infuriated that he was ruining your years-long relationship for some stupid dream. “Are you kidding me? I’m not joining you.” You snarled.

“You’re choosing them? Over me? You’re choosing your mother, who has ignored you your entire life, instead of me. Instead of us?” He growled, approaching you as you trudged backwards. For the first time in your life, you were scared of Luke. Scared of the man you loved.

“I’m choosing my friends at Camp Half-Blood. My family. What about Annabeth? And Percy? Do they know?” Thoughts of Annabeth finding out one of her closest friends was a traitor flooded your brain, hurting you more than Luke’s words ever could.

“No, not yet, at least. Why won’t you stand up for what’s right?”

“You’re starting an unwinnable war here. Tell me, do you really think you could overpower them?” You replied, fuming with anger towards him and the gods, too. And if we’re being honest, you were mad at yourself, too. Mad at yourself for still loving him even though he was hurting you.

“I will overpower them. With or without you.”

“You're—you're really leaving?” You questioned, and the rage dissipated.

“I have to.” He demanded, looking down at his feet while clenching his eyes shut.

A wave of memories washed over you, and suddenly, you didn’t want him to go. You wanted the boy who picked you the freshest of flowers—the boy who came knocking on your bedroom door at night, just wanting to chat.

“Please, Luke. We can forget all about this and go back to living our lives.” You pleaded, your bottom lip quivering as you fought back sobbing.

“It’s too late now. I never wanted to hurt you, Y/N.”

“Please don’t leave. I was alone my whole life before you, and I told myself I liked it that way, but I don’t. I don’t want to live a life without you. I can’t.” You choked out through mangled sobs, and his demeanor shifted to one of guilt.

“I’m sorry, but it has to be this way. And I can’t let you leave here and spoil my plans before they even start.”

The air became thick as he finished his sentence, and your tears subsided, freight replacing the sadness that lingered deep in your heart.

“What does that mean?” You entreated. Was he going to kill you?

“I love you. Maybe in another universe we can be together.” He said this, fleeting into the shadows.

“Wait! Luke, you can’t just leave me here!” You yelled, attempting to run after him, but he was nowhere to be found. You stood alone in the darkness of the woods, with no clue as to how to escape the woods.

Every fragment in your body was telling you to give up, to let go, and to sob. To silence out the cruel world and lay on the earth floor, to wait for your impending death, from the freezing cold temperatures or one of the hungry monsters that lurked in the night. But the thought of Luke getting away with this and letting him escape untouched fueled you. You hiked out of the path you came from, praying you could get back to camp alive.

Eventually, you met the forest ends, stepping foot into a camp that was blissfully unaware of Hermes’ boy’s plan. You shoved through crowds of partying teens, eager to find Annabeth and Percy and warn them.

After searching through every crook, you spotted them talking to Chiron. The look of concealed misery on the young girl’s face told you everything. Luke had already visited.

You were grateful the two preteens were even alive, but you know how hard this was. They were only kids, not deserving to experience such heartbreak at a mere twelve years old.

Running up to Annabeth, you wrapped her in a comforting, empathy-filled embrace. Her muscles tensed up at first before accepting the hug and leaning in.

“I’m so sorry.” You muttered into her ears as she sighed. Pulling apart to read her emotions, you asked a simple question. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She murmured unconvincingly.

“Promise?”

“Swear.” Annabeth replied.

“And you promise you’ll come talk to me if you’re not?” You asked again.

“Promise.”

You smiled for the first time in hours, basking in the warmth of your family.

“Is he... gone?” You whispered to her, and it didn’t take an Athena kid to understand who you were talking about.

“Yeah. He escaped through a portal.”

“Oh.” Was all you could reply, trying to shield the way your heart shattered.

“I’m sorry.” Annabeth said, looking into your glossy eyes.

“It’s okay. I’ll tell you everything later, but I’m just going to go to bed for now.”

You left, tears pouring down as you lightly jogged to the Hermes cabin. Slipping off your shoes, you plopped down onto Luke’s bed and sobbed.

His cheap cologne mixed with the citrusy shampoo he used lingered in the hot air, and for a moment, it was like he was still with you.

[luke masterlist] ★ [request here] ★ [hera moodboard]

#luke castellan #luke castellan angst #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #hera #liv’s writing !

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simpletale-officiale · 8 months

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INTRODUCTION!

SIMPLETALE is an AU that aims to parody undertale. while also giving it its own original twist, although its not just limited to undertale, as we also aim to parody other silly little bits of the multiverse. like underfell, underswap, heck. maybe even underverse! you can find some of the AU's included in the lineup drawn above, as well as in the descriptions for the askable AU's further on in this post

the AU uses old concepts for undertale, and some fanon misconceptions. to make a funny and entertaining story, but also one with worldbuilding and some slightly more serious bits. unfortunately we cannot show the rest of the cast for simpletale currently because that's spoilers and we want to keep it secret for later (;

(be sure to frequently check this post, as characters could be added to be askable in the future)

questions are not just limited to characters though, you can also ask us, the creators, questions about the production of simpletale, or even our own opinions on it! maybe even some questions about areas...? but ill be nice and give some suggestions. "whats your favorite thing about simpletale?" "whats your least favorite thing about simpletale" dont be shy, ask!

moving onto the characters.

the simple. the basics. the one and only's!

the simpletale bros!

sans- a rather cheeky, clumsy, and humerus fella. likes getting a laugh out of others, often through humerus actions, he ends up annoying the shit out of his brother a lot of the time, and they argue a lot, they love being brothers though, and most of the time they make up rather quickly. usually tries to speak as little as possible and be as straight to the point as possible. has a fast food addiction

papyrus- a bumbling perfectionist imperialist. believes himself to be superior to others, even when in a low position of power, he was accepted into the guard because..... they needed someone to do the paperwork, dogs ain't that good for writing. despite this he believes himself to be the most important and supreme member of the guard, despite the most important thing he does being signing the occasional tax document or punting a trespasser (usually just random preteens) 20 feet into the air. a bit of a narcissist with a sailors mouth but he does actually care for the people in his life, despite coming off so rude most people find him annoying though ):. basically papyrus autism thrown to a hundred. banters with sans often when he tries to knock papyrus ego down a peg. tries to act menacing, but hes really just an 80's cartoon villain goofball. cooks the most delicious food you will ever taste, we let bro cook for a REASON.

the simpled is swapped?

the simpleswap bros!

they started out exactly like simpletale sans and papyrus, but decided to parody each other for shits and giggles, and then got all their friends along, which created simpleswap. their personalities are a bit altered from the simpletale brothers due to reasons but their whole swapped personality thing is a gag and they might break character once you say something outlandish or spook them.

papyrus- apathetic, and a bit apolitical with almost everything. started smoking weed to parody sans fast food addiction but actually started smoking it regularly, so hes like.... high. always. once you get through his apathetic and at times, cold and careless character, he can be surprisingly kind and humble, honestly a pretty decent guy. finds his old self cringey and dumb. works as an accountant on the side, cooks pretty tasty food, and often makes tasty weed brownies????

sans- cheeky, energetic, and plays this character of perfection to parody papyrus narcissism, think of the character of perfection kind of like how liquid chris works, effectively doing anything papyrus did, but better. still tries his best to get a laugh out of everyone, hes in better shape then simpletale sans and is overall more athletic, playful and energetic, takes the whole parodying eachother thing less seriously then his brother. him and fellsimple sans are best pals

their bold, their brash, they certainly dont belong in the trash, an-OUCH I FELL AND BROKE MY FUCKING KNEEES-

fellsimple.

this one goes slightly more heavy into parodying fanon

sans- has anger issues, plays up this role of being a punk, "fuck the government" "acab" "i dont believe in consistency" you get the point, a bit of a greedy fuck, loves gold, as well as sharp stuff and gold, he has some.... taboo fetishes like hes probably into bdsm. being the only one out of the skeletons to not be asexual as well as being the only one to be straight. rides a motorcycle, but likes trucks more, probably secretly works with trucking, simpleswap sans is his best friend and he loves to drink with simpletale sans, tough attitude, but is secretly just as silly as the others.

papyrus-has a job as a guard but ends up skipping most of the time because the guards are pretty horrible people and they make him pretty stressed, likes books and philosophy, probably plays this fake role of an evil, heinous guard at work, if ever does it that is. hes a real cheapskate compared to sans, but will buy good books or vinyl albums at a high price if he feels their high enough of quality. hes shy compared to the other papyruses.

sans

....aaaand error.

a bit of a sleazy fella with a PLAN. he doesnt destroy aus here but does more heinous stuff, like rob banks in AU's, make illegal businesses or currencies, clash with rival gangs, and occasionally fights with ink (although their relationship is very sexual, parodying the fanon misconception that errink is canon) ask him the right questions, and he might even bring some of his gang members along to answer (; his personality is somewhat apathetic, but he always has a PLAN!!!!!! AND YOU CANT FIGHT NATURE JOHN......

NOW, THE FIRST ERROR GANG MEMBER!

killer: nickname: assassin has been unlocked!

coming from an alternate timeline of simpletale where sans got bored? varisk (frisk replacement) decided to mentally manipulate him into thinking that robbing and killing is a better option then doing nothing. and pays him for it eventually papyrus was killed in crossfire and sans murdered varisk, the pin on his jacket is a soul, but souls are useless in the simpleverse, blood is much more valuable. he's a silent but professional skeleton. cares deeply about his boss and coworkers.

EXTREMELY good with firearms as well as chains. its hard for him to move his mouth, so its almost always locked in a constant smile the liquid that leaks out of him is like an oil like substance, touching it for too long burns your skin, its incredibly cold though. he's ruthless and aggressive in battle and is often the tank/brute in whatever operation dysfunct has going on. usually smug and professional, but can also be very gentle around those he deems friendly enough.

picked up by error after an.... incident in his au.

the nightmare and dream brothers!

nightmare: claims to have been "betrayed" by his brother (dream stole his sandwich) believes dream causes all his misfortunes and bad luck moments. kind of acts like a spoiled rich kid with a military obsession. started the gang by feeding into errors idea of a free multiverse, where there are no governments and an independent existence for everyone. a world with anarchy and fun. he can be a good manipulator at times, but is all bark no bite. pretty cringe, both him and his brother claim to be "gods" but in truth, their both mutations/byproducts of the simpleswap universe "glitching" creating this disgusting blob and a ball of light (think like sans bad time eye) inside of a husk body. both are amortal and seek to destroy the other, or at least piss each other off for as long as possible.

dream: LOVES shit talking about his brother plays this role of an innocent cutesy kind emperor, when he is everything opposite to that, except for emperor I guess. he is an emperor. believes causing nightmare misfortune will bring him luck in some form (it doesn't, but hes too stupid to realize) if he gets the chance he would probably torture and give his enemies a VERY painful, but quick death. he wants his brother to be at the bottom of life, the worst point in his life, before he plans to KILL. speaks in a very Shakespearian way. is a snobby fuck. not really greedy. but will do ANYTHING in his power to make his enemies die the most painful death he can give them. not cruel to his people, but gaslights them a lot. claims what he does is for the "greater good" acts nice, and very kind to his "friends" but would betray them the moment he finds anything better. the type of guy to give you puppydog eyes after burning down your house

AND ME!!!

thanks to kyne for activating my dastardly plan to take over this tumblr, im not just gonna be thrown away as a simple outcast at that pub anymore, im fuckin important goddamn it!!!!!

i also may edit the intros a bit add my own flare you know but the importance is i am now your stand in if you ask anyone thats in the multi-bar!!!!

bio: 404 was born omnipotent, automatically more powerful then all the other simpletons. he would become aware of how through an alternative reality known as the prescratch timeline where that version of him speaks of what he was destined for. nobody believes him however and that bitch error keeps harassing me about talking shit well guess what whore i dont fucking need you anymore because ive found myself somebody who won't just use me and then throw me away when its most fitting fuck you never talk to me again bitch

liks: chaos, delinquency, anarchy, NOT following the rules, 100 gecs (the one with the stupid horse), being powerful, super transformations, hyperpop, chains, gold, copypastas, big hot strong men that could absolutely penetrate me hard, 100 gecks (literally, i have 100 of them as pets and its awesome!!!), flexing, being totally dripped out, colors associated with errors, busting it down (gay kind not cool kind)

dislinks: order, rules, politics, leaders, having to follow instructions, horror sans from the evil guys fuck you you stole my place on that group which im not that upset about anymore after realising they all suck anyways but i still hate you because you refuse to actually fight and keeps saying random quips everytime youre on screen like actually shut the fuck up, gex, women because im severely femalephobic and extremely homosexual so they terrify me, error (cheater and liar dont ever trust him with anything), ink who stole my man with her fuckin cursed woman parts and apparently in the prescratch timeline everyone calls her mommy????? kinda sussy BUT THE SIMPLEVERSE IS LIMITLESS! Because there is a multibar just down the road > (https://simpletale-officiale.tumblr.com/post/727125546167828480/farm-sans)

CREDITS

Undertale by @fwugradiation

Underswap by popcornprince and @underswapped3

Underfell by @underfell

error sans by @loverofpiggies

Killer sans by @rahafwabas

Dream and nightmare by @jokublog

Sigh.... 404 by.... @vibeless15

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haleyboook · 4 months

Text

Christmas cheer

When a relationship not known by Chris’ family is suddenly front and center when he insists on her coming to his family Christmas festivities. Just how insane can she expect it to be? And how bad will it effect her relationship?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“I just need my bathing suit and I’ll have all my clothes ready to be packed.” I tell him as I hold the laundry basket in my arms

He nods as he remains half out of it staring at me

“Chris?”

“Mmhm?”

“What’s on your mind?”

He sighs as he sits up saying “I’m not liking the idea of not being together on Christmas. The best holiday.”

I drop the laundry basket and walk over to him, I sit on the armrest of the chair as he pulls me towards him

His lips press to my shoulder as he says “The Bahamas are so lame right now. Change your flight. Let’s go there for New Years. Boston is so beautiful right now.”

Sighing I say “My whole family is there, and they would love to meet you. You know that. I talk about you all the time and my mom already loves you. Why don’t you come with me? And then we can celebrate New Years with your family?”

Slowly he considers giving in as my eyes practically melt him and my lips press to his as I smile widely

The corners of his lips curve upwards in response to me and he groans saying “My mom and sisters would kill me if I missed Christmas. My nieces and nephews are expecting me there.”

Nodding I sigh saying “So basically we can’t spend the holiday together. And we’re back to square one.”

He smiles to me and says “Yeah. I guess so.”

But that look on his face for a split second was awfully mischievous and I know he’s up to something.

He pushes my hair out of my face and kisses my collarbones as we draw closer to each other

“It’s snowing in Boston. Have you ever been to Boston when it’s snowing?”

“No. I haven’t.”

“Winter is my second favorite season there. A white Christmas is my favorite. And my family goes all nine yards.”

“Oh really? What do they do?”

He smiles and says “Well my whole big family pile into my childhood home and we spend the whole week together. My mom has us baking and cooking all week and we go see a Christmas play on Christmas Eve. And we have a Christmas Eve party after. And Christmas Day is the best, seeing my niece and nephews excitement over the gifts is the best. My mom makes us spiked hot chocolate and we have this massive dinner. It’s literally heaven.”

The pause sits for awhile as I think on my family, my parents have my sisters and all their friends in the Bahamas with them currently

I paid for the vacation, called it an early Christmas gift.

But… Boston doesn’t sound too bad

“If.. I can change my flight, I’m in.”

His eyes widen suddenly as he looks to me surprised saying “You’re serious?”

I scoff saying “Was that not a real offer?”

“No! No it was real. I’ll.. I’ll call my mom telling her you’re coming along.”

I nod and stare at the laundry across the room. I sigh saying “im not going to need that bathing suit am I?”

He laughs whole heartedly and I grumble saying “You owe me time at the beach. I need ocean and sun time.”

“Promise. New Years with your family in the Bahamas. We can stay a week longer than your family. Just us.”

I sigh into him as I grow relaxed, nodding saying “That sounds perfect. Just what I need after the shit-show movie I just wrapped.”

“He was a terrible director.”

“He made me pull my hair out. I need to strictly rely on Greta and Sofia for work. They’re the only tolerable directors I’ve worked with. Besides obviously the marvel projects.”

He nods saying “Making everyone work on a holiday is crazy.”

“Well you saw how well that worked out for him.”

Chris laughs saying “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a movie crew so happy that an actress went full diva for them.”

“They all deserved to be with their families, regardless if they celebrated the holiday or not.”

“Trust me, I know they were thankful.”

I sigh saying “Yeah…. Now tell me what I need to pack for Boston.”

“You need to start with at least 3-4 coats or jackets.”

I make a winced face and say “You’re kidding.”

“That doesn’t include winter coats. Do you have a winter—”

He pauses as he looks to me as I produce a pinched expression and shrug saying “I don’t own anything like that.”

“We’ve got a lot of work to do then.”

The flight was simple enough, I overpacked and had to check my bag. Chris didn’t have to, he had a small enough bag for it to be a carry on

I realized how big of a mistake it was to check my bag the minute I started looking through the carousels for my suitcase

Only to my surprise it never came around. Chris felt terrible as the flight attendant informed me that my suitcase, along with half the passengers were left to fly out on the next plane

I blinked in response to her, feeling anger rise within me “what do you mean you left my suitcase?”

“It will be delivered here in a few hours. We can ship it to the address you—”

“I just want my things! Why couldn’t you fit my suitcase on the plane?”

“There are certain rules and regulations we need to follow, the flight was sold out and we couldn’t exceed a certain weight—”

“Everything I need is in my suitcase! It’s 25 degrees out! I need my things!”

Chris wraps his arm around me attempting to calm me down saying “Honey… honey it’s alright. We’ll figure it out.”

I scoff saying “Don’t give me that. You carried your suitcase on. You have everything you could possibly need. I have nothing. My scripts were in there. I needed to run those lines.”

He sighs and attempts to comfort me as he looks to the lady saying “How soon will it be shipped?”

“The second it’s in our custody. You should get it by tomorrow.”

“That’s not so bad, you’ll have all your things by tomorrow. In the meantime we’ll figure something out.”

The Bahamas are sounding a lot better now

“Yeah. Okay..” I say unconvinced and on edge

Chris had called his mom a day ago telling her he was bringing his girlfriend and she was surprised to find out so late in advance

Pretty frustrated this is one of the few times she’d even heard about me.

But before I wasn’t even his girlfriend, we were just going on a few dates. He thought it was easier to just say that to his mother instead

We were both so busy, there was no time to share with anyone else but each other

And we used every single minute we could find with the other

He’d fly to me and leave in the morning. Or I’d fly in at 9am and have to leave at 12am.

He knows he should have mentioned his girlfriend earlier, to not only his mother but probably his sisters and practically anyone else in his family

I ask as he drives our rental car towards the house “Scott’s there already?”

He’s the one person I really knew from his family, considering how often he visited

“Yeah. He just got to the house this morning.”

I swallow hard saying “And your mom, Lisa knows I’m coming to Christmas?”

“She knows, relax y/n. There’s nothing to worry about. My mom will love you and we’ll have a great time.”

“So your older is Carly, and Shanna is your younger sister. Then there’s your dad and he’s a dentist. And then there’s miles and—”

“Clearly you’ve done your research.”

I sigh as I run my hands down my face saying “I wouldn’t even need to. You love your family, you talk about them constantly. I can’t believe this is the first time I’ve met them. I could probably recite their birthdays at this point… oh my god. Don’t let me say that to them. I’m losing my mind. I’m so nervous, were you this nervous to meet my mom?”

He laughs as I scramble my sentences together quickly, talking way too fast

“Your mother gave me no warning, I met her in my boxers while I was getting the paper. I had no time to be nervous.”

I smile and look to him saying “She thought you were handsome immediately.”

He shakes his head saying with a chuckle “No, her first comment was asking why I was so pale.”

Laughing I shake my head saying “I can’t believe she said that.”

“She wasn’t wrong.”

He livens up my mood just switching the topic, I feel better already. He squeezes my hand saying “Just don’t overthink this and you’ll do great. Promise.”

And that’s when we turned down a street where I saw a suburban neighborhood, it was different than I was used to

There was an inflatable Santa on the large patch of grass in the front yard and lights thrown up onto the gutters, brightly colored

The driveway was full and it made me uneasy. Chris put the car in park and once he turned off the engine he looked to me “you ready to go in?”

“The gifts were in my suitcase, Chris. I have nothing for them—”

“You have your bright smile. That’s enough, we can go shopping in the morning or wait for your suitcase. All that matters is the gifts under the tree by Christmas.”

A sigh releases my lips as I look to the sprawl of inflatables across the front yard that I hadn’t noticed earlier

Some that are so clearly Boston suburbia that it’s odd to me

“Oh. That’s Jim. Moms had that inflatable for decades. It’s older than all the grandkids combined.”

“What is… it supposed to be?”

“It used to be an 8foot tall snowman, one of the first to be released. But it’s face wore off so is kids drew a new one on with sharpie and… yeah that was the result.”

Scott slowly sneaks around the car, and slams his palms into the glass of my car door

I scream as I jerk my head towards him and heave heavy breaths as my screaming stops

Chris laughs loudly and boisterous as I nearly kick the door open. It hitting Scott as I climb out, pushing his shoulder as his laugher only annoys me

“You’re an asshole!”

He and Chris just think my reaction is the funniest thing possible

“Did you hit your head when you jumped that high?”

He tumbles to the ground as he falls in the snow and practically cries with laughter

I huff in annoyance saying “Why would you do that?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Scott struggles to say as he gasps for air as his laughter slows

I look to Scott saying “We have a whole competition going, scaring each other. We do this basically every time everyone’s home.”

Chris smiles as he says “She has an out, it’s her first Christmas with us. She is free of the jump scares.”

“No way! She needs to experience the evans family Christmas in every way.”

Chris gives Scott a look and I walk away saying “I’m freezing. Can we please go inside.”

Scott nods saying “that sounds like a great idea.”

Chris nods as he lifts his suitcase through the snow and pulls his jacket off as he drapes it over my shoulders

I look to him thankfully as I tighten it around me. I slow to a stop as I wait for one of the two brothers to lead the way

Chris steps in front of me as he says “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just cold—” but I’m cut off by Scott running towards us and throwing a snowball into the back of Chris’ head

Scott laughs as I feel the corners of my smile turning upwards quickly as I laugh quietly as Chris huffs out a breath of annoyance

“oh… little brother you so shouldn’t have started this.”

“Chris.” I plead as his hand digs into the snow

“Just let me reach this little punk a lesson.”

And they’re already at it with each other. I stand there as Chris creates a snow ball throwing it towards his brother as Scott ducks out of the shot

My sisters and I were never like this. They were 12-15 years older than me. By the time I was 5-6 years old they were out of the house or in college. I was basically an only child with occasional visits from my sisters

But Bree moved to England for a job and Elise lives across the US. Hawaii, with her husband. Her husband is stationed in the navy there

I wince as both Scott and Chris tumble roughly into the snow but I smile because it’s hilarious

“They do this often.”

My shoulders jump at the voice, I thought I was alone out here

I look to the woman and say “And I’m sure it’s entertaining every time.” My smile shines towards her and she breathes out a laugh saying “Yeah. Most of the time. I’m Shanna. You must be y/n, his girlfriend. Right?”

Nodding I say “yes, that is me. I’m sorry to intrude on your Christmas, he insisted I have a Boston Christmas.”

“You don’t have family around here?”

I pause and say “They’re in the Bahamas for Christmas.”

“And you picked this over that?” She laughs as I shake my head saying “I couldn’t leave him. We try to spend any second we can together. I’m sorry, are you Carly or Shanna? Chris talks about his sisters so much but I can’t place your name.”

She smiles saying “Shanna. His younger sister.”

“Oh okay. Thank you.

She nods saying “How’d the two of you meet?”

“Work. Of course. There’s not really anywhere else I could’ve meet someone.”

“You’re an actor too?”

I nod and say “Yeah.”

“Are you cold? We could go in while they sort this whole thing out?”

I look towards Chris as he has Scott pinned down with knee pressed against his back.

Scott’s face doesn’t leave the patch of snow as Chris tells him to tap out

I look to their sister saying “Is this normal?”

Shanna smiles saying “Yes. When they’re around each other they get like this. They’re brothers that’s for sure haha.”

I bite at my lip saying “I really am freezing. We could go in.. I’m just anxious.”

“Why don’t you head in while I get these idiots into the house?”

She steps away before I can argue the offer

I swallow hard and walk towards the house, I so don’t want to go in alone

Scott is pulled up from the snow and pushes his brother as he looks to me as Chris brushes off the snow on his clothes

“Babe, you can head in. You look like you’re about to freeze.”

I nod to Chris and ask “Just walk in?”

“My ma doesn’t care, she has everyone just walk right in.”

I stare at the door as I push it open and enter the house. Shutting it behind me to keep all the warmth in the house

I’m first hit with voices and I slow to a stop as I attempt not to intrude

But then I quickly realize they’re talking about me

“No, this is really the first time he’s ever brought her up. He told me all about her a day ago and that she was coming for Christmas.”

“Shanna is laying into her for answers and to find out what kind of person she is. God I hope she’s not some arrogant brat.”

My eyes widen suddenly as my arms drop to my sides quickly

“God knows Chris has poor taste in women. Should be interesting to meet her. From what he’s told me she’s a bit high maintenance.”

My eyebrows shoot up at that and I huff in annoyance

“I can only hope she isn’t some privileged obnoxious child. Chris didn’t give me much, only that they didn’t want to be apart. It sounds like they’re pretty serious.”

“How close could they be if he kept her hidden from us? She’s got to be the reason he skipped literally everything for thanksgiving but the dinner. He literally rolled in here at 3 and left by 8.”

The pause in conversation leaves me frozen in the entry way as I feel like I just stepped into something I shouldn’t hear

“You think he’s fallen for a girl who will keep him from us for holidays? That’s often what happens when a son marries someone.”

“You think they’re getting married?! He hardly knows the girl. God bless her but Chris could never commit to something like that. You know the cycle, give it a few more months and they’ll have moved on.”

“He said she can be difficult, especially under pressure. Like I said super high maintenance.”

“Probably means controlling.”

Excuse me?

“If this girl is wrong for him I’ll have a conversation with him. He’s my son, he’ll listen to me. She’ll be just another ex girlfriend if we don’t like her—”

I can feel the lump in my throat growing as I reach for the door handle but it opens and I take a step back as Chris steps in

He looks to me confused as I remain hovering by the door like I wanted to bolt, his arms find their way around my sides saying “you alright?”

My shoulders tighten and wind up as my whole body tightens up, I shrug in response as I slip from his grasp

Scott shouts “Ma! Chris and y/n are here!”

Chris huffs in response to his brother

The group of people file towards us as my hands pull at the zipper sides of Chris’ jacket that’s tightly wrapped around my body

Tightening it around me

“Chris!”

He bounds for his mother, and you could tell how much he loves him mom. That’s a strong hug around her. Clearly he missed her

Maybe she was right, I didn’t think I was keeping him from his family

Suddenly I feel super out of place as their whole family hugs and speaks to each other

Slowly I slip into the background of the family as my back presses to the door, everything growing overwhelming

“My sweet boy. I’m so happy you’re here.”

Controlling.

That word wanders around my head as I feel the weight of it

High maintenance

How could she have all these opinions of me before even meeting me?

Scott pulls away from his older sister saying “y/n, meet my sister Carly… y/n?” He looks behind him not finding me

I’m practically melting through the door as Chris suddenly pulls away from the conversation him and his mother are having

“honey?”

The people in front of me, serving as I wall suddenly break into two groups and the whole Evans family turns towards me

Chris looks to me with a widening smile and walks forward, grabbing my hand and saying “Everyone, this is my girlfriend y/n. I’ll introduce you to each person in a minute. Firstly, this is my ma.”

The woman looks to me and I feel the nauseous feeling grow as I stare at her nervously

She takes a step towards me as Chris’ warm hand leaves my back

She smiles and says “I’m Lisa. It’s so great to meet you.”

My grin slips as she pulls me into a hug and I grow frustrated as she says “Chris just adores you.”

I swear there’s sarcasm coming off her words

“Love, mom. I love her.” Chris confirms as his smile falls from his lips and I’m released. I’m basically introduced around and the minute I’m free from introductions I find Scott

He’s with Carly but I grab his wrist tightly and give him the crazy eyes. He excused himself from his sister as I pull him out front

“I have to get out of here.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

My hands pull down my face as I frown and say “Your mother doesn’t know I heard what she and Carly were saying in the kitchen.”

“What we’re they saying in the kitchen?” He leans forward, practically begging for the information

“Am I controlling?”

“What? Why would you…. Oh.” He pauses as he looks inside the glass panels for a second saying “she doesn’t know you. Don’t take what she said to heart. She probably read a bad article about you.”

I shake my head as I sit down on the front steps and he follows shortly after “They lost my suitcase. I have nothing. I’m feeling insecure enough already. And I know Chris is loving every minute of this but I’m just… overwhelmed and annoyed.”

Scott nods as he rubs my shoulder, and I continue saying “He never told his mom or anyone about me. They don’t know me. Would he have ever told them about me? He basically worships your mom. But I’m not important enough to be a topic?”

“I’m sure he has good reason, bee.”

I huff in response and cover my face saying “This is going to be a long week. You have to promise me you won’t leave my side. If Chris isn’t glued to my side you have to be. Please.”

His eyes widen and he says “That’s a big job.”

I narrow my eyes to him saying “Scott.”

He smiles lightly saying “Fine deal.”

“This is going to be a long week.” We both say in sync

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Oh hi! It’s been awhile, hasn’t it! I wanted to create a Christmas story, this is only going to be a few parts, I think (don’t know yet!)

I really enjoyed writing this part, I’m currently working on a part two! I hope you all enjoy this!

Next part>>

Make sure you comment to be added to the taglist!

More will be published soon! Promise!

Make sure you interact with my stories please!

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #chris evans x you #Chris evans Christmas #chris evans x y/n #cevans #captain america #marvel #Chris evans Christmas fic #Chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic

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brbsoulnomming · 4 months

Text

WHERE NOBODY KNOWS YOUR NAME

For: @sharpbutsoft

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: Teen

Wordcount: 14.9k

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, mention of alcohol and financial exploitation of child stars

Tags: Famous Steve Harrington, Bartender Eddie Munson, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Snapshots

Summary: A drop dead gorgeous man walks into The Hideout one night while Eddie's bartending, and Eddie's absolutely determined to flirt with him. What follows is snapshots of the two of them growing closer and closer, all while Eddie's absolutely oblivious to the fact that Steve's secretly one half of the famous pop duo Scoops Troop.

This fic is a part of the @steddieholidayexchange

-----

The prettiest man that Eddie has ever seen walks through the door of the Hideout, and Eddie damn near drops the glass he was rinsing out. It's not like their town's small enough that Eddie could actually recognize everyone in it, and the Hideout gets enough business that Eddie doesn't know everyone who comes in, but still, he was not expecting to get hit in the face with that kind of handsome on his shift tonight.

Sure, the nearby resort is a particular favorite among the wealthy elite - Eddie even heard there was one douchebag pop singer who booked the entire place for two weeks in the spring, apparently just so he wouldn't have to associate with any other guests - but they usually stay on the resort. It's rare for any of them to venture out into the town itself.

Pretty boy is wearing a dark blue polo with Hawkins Hope in Action stitched in yellow across his shirt pocket, which Eddie definitely does not notice purely because he's admiring the way it stretches across his chest. He takes an empty seat at the bar, pushing one hand through his hair as he scans the chalkboard specials they've got on display.

"You think it's as soft as it looks?" Chrissy asks, nudging him with her hip as she joins him in absolutely not just staring at the guy from the backroom.

He huffs out a little laugh. "I think you've got a better chance at me than figuring that out, Chris."

Still, he's fully prepared to head out there and try on at least a little bit of charm, until Jeff comes up next to them.

"I think Chrissy should head out there for a while," he says.

Eddie turns to fix him with a betrayed look. "What? Come on, man, I said Chrissy had a better chance, not that I had no chance."

Jeff nods towards the guy. "Look at him, he's all on edge."

And it's true - the guy's perched on the bar stool like he expects to have to bolt at any minute, and he's started to hunch in on himself like he's trying to take up as little space as possible.

It's kind of sad, actually, which unfortunately doesn't make him any less cute.

"So?" Eddie asks.

"So you know I love you, man, but you can be kind of a lot," Jeff says apologetically.

Eddie gasps, whirling to face Chrissy. "Can you believe this?"

Her nose is a little crinkled, lips turned down the way she does when there's a hard truth she doesn't want to tell him. "You're not always the most soothing presence," she admits.

He lurches back dramatically, hand over his heart. "Complete and utter betrayal, from my own best friends no less."

Jeff pats him on the shoulder. "You'll get over it."

"You can talk to him next time," Chrissy offers.

Which, considering pretty boy is probably staying at the resort and not going to come back, is small consolation.

But, well. He's probably staying at the resort and not coming back, so Eddie guesses he really isn't losing out on much by not getting to talk to him.

At least he can enjoy the eye candy.

He keeps an eye on them at first, only partially because of said eye candy - Chrissy can handle herself, but if the guy is going to be the typical resort douche, Eddie won't hesitate to come back her up. Pretty boy starts to relax a little the longer he's there, though, and Chrissy's doing the genuine smile she does when she has a good customer, so he doesn't worry about it.

By the time the guy leaves, Eddie's heard the sound of them laughing a few times.

"His laugh is just as pretty as the rest of him," Eddie sighs to Chrissy as they watch him leave.

"His name is Steve," Chrissy replies. "He works for that charity that's booked the resort this weekend for a fundraising event."

"That explains what he was doing here," Eddie jokes. "I knew we wouldn't see a resort guest slumming it at the Hideout."

Chrissy rolls her eyes at him, but she doesn't disagree. "They work with kids in the foster care system," she says mildly. "They put on camps and events and things for the kids to come to, do fundraising to get money to support them. He spends most of his time with the kids.”

Eddie groans. “No, come on, that's not fair,” he whines. “Handsome and a pretty laugh and he works for a charity and it's for foster kids and he's likes spending time with them? He's gotta have some flaws. Maybe he's actually terrible with kids, maybe they all hate him.”

Chrissy giggles. “Maybe he leaves his wet towels all over the floor.”

Eddie nods. “Maybe he sings off key in the shower and it's awful and he won't stop.”

Chrissy gives him a little shove. “Well, Steve says they've booked the resort for a few camps and events throughout the rest of the year, so you'll have plenty of time to find out.”

“If he comes back,” Eddie points out.

“Oh, I have a feeling he'll come back,” she replies.

—

Steve comes back.

It's just him behind the bar tonight, with Gareth and Grant back in the kitchen, so Eddie spends a moment quietly collecting himself before he heads over.

Eddie shoots him a smile. "Hi."

"Hey," Steve returns, smiling at him in return - though it seems practiced, nothing like the soft, warm smile Eddie'd seen him give Chrissy when he left the other night.

Ouch.

"Chrissy's not working tonight," Eddie says, trying not to let his disappointment show.

Steve's face scrunches in confusion, a little furrow between his brow that Eddie has the immediate urge to reach out to try to smooth with his thumb.

What is wrong with him? He's usually way better at not letting customers get under his skin.

"Thanks for telling me?" Steve says, the end of the sentence raised up in a question like he's not quite sure he's giving the correct response.

"Just thought I'd let you know, in case you came back in hoping to see her again," Eddie says.

Steve's expression smooths out. "Oh. Nah, I just really liked the… atmosphere…"

He trails off, clearly aware of how what he's saying sounds, but Eddie makes a point of scanning around the bar anyway - it isn't empty, but it's not exactly crowded, either, occupied mostly by small groups who stick to themselves or solo patrons who are more interested in their drinks than engaging in conversation with other customers.

No one's paying the slightest bit of attention to them.

He cocks an eyebrow as he looks back at Steve, and now the smile he gets is a little less practiced, a little more genuinely pleased - maybe even a little teasing.

"Exactly," Steve agrees. "What's not to like about a place where nobody knows your name?

Eddie barks out a little laugh. "Not nobody," he returns. "It's Steve, right? I'm Eddie. What can I get you?"

He calls Steve's order of onion rings back to Gareth, then grabs a glass to get his beer.

"So, Chrissy said you work with the charity that rented out the resort?" he asks. "What do you do for them?"

Steve lights up a little at the question, which, unfortunately, makes him even prettier.

"I'm the activities director," Steve replies.

Eddie raises his eyebrows as he sets Steve's beer in front of him, inviting him to continue.

“I plan all the stuff for the kids to do at camp,” Steve clarifies.

His eyebrows go even higher. “That sounds exhausting.”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “Sometimes,” he admits. “But I don't, like, personally do all of them. Some of the other staff will take lead on things that interest them - like Nancy does journalism and writing workshops, and Lucas picked up basketball, Jon does photography, and Robin's doing film watching and analysis. We actually do a lot of partnerships, too, get people to come in and do guest spots leading activities for like a week.”

Right, Eddie's pretty sure he heard that Hawkins Hope was a celebrity sponsored charity. Makes sense why they're able to afford using the resort for things.

“So what do you take lead on, then?” Eddie asks, mentally hi-fiving himself for finding an effortless way to ask Steve about his interests.

He's pretty sure it doesn't go unnoticed, because Steve blinks at him for a moment before he gives him just a little bit of a smirk.

It's a good look on him, though, so Eddie doesn't mind one bit.

“Swimming,” Steve replies. “Mostly lifeguarding, if we're somewhere on the water, and I do lessons. Baseball in the summer. Ice skating in the winter. Music, sometimes. Cooking. I'll pretty much fill in whenever I need to.”

Eddie's not surprised that the majority of those were sports, but it does mean he flounders a little bit in the next step of his plan - find a common interest and get his flirt on. He's a decent enough cook, but it's not exactly something he does for fun. Which means he's got one option left, and he latches onto it eagerly.

“What kind of music?” he asks.

Steve watches him for a moment, like he's waiting for the punchline. Or waiting to be judged, maybe - maybe the guy only likes Top 40s and is used to being looked down on from guys wearing Dio t-shirts.

And all right, Eddie might judge him a little - but only teasingly, and only if he knew him better. So he just waits, hoping he looks as genuine as he means to.

“I'm not picky,” Steve says finally. “I can find the merit in just about anything. It's not about the genre to me - it's about how the song makes you feel, if you can connect with the lyrics or if the music stirs some kind of emotion in you that you didn't even know was there.”

Oh.

“I get that,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?” Steve asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “Like - it's not what I usually listen to, and it's not what people expect, but my mom loved Bluegrass and country. I hear it now and it makes me think of her. I still end up singing Hazel Dickens or Loretta Lynn when I clean the kitchen, makes me feel like she's there with me.”

And there's that soft, warm smile that Eddie'd briefly seen him give Chrissy - only now it's even worse because it's directed at him, and it keeps lingering.

“Yeah,” Steve says again, but this time it sounds like you really do get it.

“So, it, uh, sounds like you like what you do,” Eddie says.

“I love what I do,” Steve agrees. “What about you?”

Eddie shrugs. “Can't complain. I get a lot of freedom here, actually. I'm the one that comes up with most of the drinks on our specials list.”

That's usually the most he goes into it, but Steve's still looking at him, so much less closed off than he was when he first came in, and he leans in like he's interested.

So when Steve asks him to tell him more about it, Eddie does. How it's not what he thought he'd be doing after high school, but then, he hadn't really given a lot of thought to much of anything after high school while he was still there, too busy just trying to graduate. How he likes the people he works with and the Hideout itself, how much fun it is coming up with his own drinks, how he's gotten to the point where he can figure out the best drink for someone before they even know what it is themselves.

And all right, he'd maybe been bragging a little, maybe said that with just a little bit of a cocky smirk to see the reaction he gets, but he's still a little bit surprised when Steve picks up on it and gives it back.

“Yeah?” Steve asks. “Do me, then.”

Eddie smiles at him, pleased. “What's the first cocktail you order when you go somewhere new?”

“House special,” Steve replies immediately, shooting him a little smirk.

Eddie gives him a look.

“It's true!” Steve insists. “I can get an old fashioned or a margarita anywhere, but the house special is usually something unique.”

Eddie considers that. “What's your go to drink if you're making yourself something at home?”

“Lemon drop,” Steve says. “They're my best friend's favorite, I learned how to make them for her. It's the only drink I can pull off that isn't just popping a can of beer or pouring a glass of wine.”

Eddie hums. He already knows Steve's taste in beers, so - “Red or white wine?”

“White in the summer, red in the winter,” Steve replies.

“Whiskey or tequila?”

“Whiskey.”

“Apple cider or hot chocolate?”

“Apple cider.”

Eddie manages to fire off questions like that for a while, and Steve even plays along when he asks him something that clearly has little to do with his drink preferences - though Eddie is absolutely ready to spin a tale about how it's vital to know if someone is a summer or a winter person for flavor choices, and being a romance or a horror fan will tell him how adventurous they are if Steve questions it.

Steve doesn't call him on it, though he does raise one eyebrow and give him a little smirk at each one, which leads to Eddie dropping into his explanation, anyway.

He wants someone to appreciate his brilliance.

It makes Steve laugh, warm and a little surprised, like he hadn't been expecting it. “Does that excuse work?”

“I don't know,” Eddie admits. “I haven't tried it on anyone else. What do you think?”

Steve hums, eying Eddie up and down in a way that, ridiculously, makes Eddie want to hide behind his hair.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I could see it working. Depends on how good your drink ends up being.”

That gets Eddie back on more confident ground, and he points dramatically at him. “Prepare to be wowed.”

Steve's an autumn person who likes apple cider, whiskey, and action films, so Eddie makes him a spin on a whiskey highball with ginger ale, apple juice, and cinnamon simple syrup.

Steve takes one sip and immediately looks delighted. It's far from the first time that Eddie's gotten that reaction, but coming from Steve, well.

Eddie doesn't want to say that it makes his whole week, but it kind of makes his whole week.

“This is amazing,” Steve says. “You do this all the time?”

“Eh, just when I feel like showing off,” Eddie finds himself saying, which is true but is definitely not what he wanted to admit to.

Steve's finally looking reasonably relaxed, though, so he can't bring himself to regret it.

“I hope you know you've set yourself up for having to do this every time I come in,” Steve tells him.

Eddie grins. “I'm holding you to that. Better not see you getting drinks from one of the other bartenders here,” he teases.

He's joking - really, he is - but when Steve laughs and agrees, well.

Okay, maybe he kind of means it.

—

It's Eddie's day off, but he's at the Hideout anyway.

He'd feel more pathetic about that if it weren't for the fact that it's Jeff and Gareth's night off, too, and they're also at the Hideout.

It's a slower night, so they're just sitting at the bar drinking beer and heckling Grant while the regulars ignore them and their antics. Or, well, he and Gareth are heckling Grant - Jeff is shifting back and forth between taking their side and taking Grant's, claiming neutrality with a gleam in his eyes that says he knows exactly what he's doing.

Even though he's not working, Eddie still looks up on instinct when the door opens - and then grins when he recognizes Steve.

He flings himself around the other side of the bar, ignoring Jeff and Gareth's surprised exclamations, and very heroically manages to not immediately wave Steve over. He plans to wait until Steve's come to sit at the far corner of the bar, then slide on up to him, but - Steve sees him and immediately makes a beeline to grab a seat in front of him.

Oh.

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve greets with a smile.

“Hey, Steve, what can I get you?” Eddie asks.

“I don't know.” Steve raises an eyebrow at him, expression almost playful. “You're the expert, right? What can you get me?”

“What is happening right now?” Gareth asks, immediately squashing the little thrill Eddie'd gotten at Steve's words.

“What's happening right now is that I'm trying to serve an actual paying customer, so why don't you two go find a table to sit at and shoo,” Eddie grumbles at him.

“Come on, Gar, let's quit bothering Eddie,” Jeff says, pushing away from the bar and tugging Gareth with him.

Fuck, Jeff is Eddie's favorite forever, he's going to owe him -

“Eddie's apparently decided to throw in a little free labor for us tonight,” Jeff calls back as they saunter off towards an open table.

Never mind, Eddie hates him.

Steve's brow furrows, and he looks up at Eddie expectantly.

“It's my night off,” Eddie admits.

“Eddie!” Steve chides.

“It's just one drink,” Eddie protests.

Steve rolls his eyes at him. “Uh-huh. What if I wanted more than one drink, were you going to hang out here all night?”

“Maybe,” Eddie grumbles.

Steve laughs at him, but it's soft and - well. It might just be Eddie's wishful thinking, but it sounds almost fond. “Go hang out with your friends. You can get me next time.”

Eddie sulks for a moment - like they're friends, like Steve is scolding him over a stupid decision and Eddie's whining at him about how it totally makes sense, really.

Wait.

“Come sit at the table with us,” Eddie says. “I can give you recommendations on what to order.”

Steve hesitates. “Your friends won't mind?”

“Nah. They love heckling me, so I'm sure they'll get a kick out of it. Come on, it'll be fun.”

Despite his words, Eddie's actually a little nervous that Steve won't get along with Jeff and Gareth, or that the tense, rigid way Steve had held himself when he first came to the bar will come back, but by the time Steve's two drinks in, he's folded almost seamlessly in with the three of them.

Jeff and Steve like the same baseball team, apparently, and he gets Gareth talking about ice skating in a way that makes him light up - a way that might make Eddie a little jealous, if Steve didn't keep catching Eddie's eyes and smiling at him.

Steve even gets a couple of their Lord of the Rings jokes, though he admits he hasn't read the books himself, just picked up on some things from the kids he used to babysit. The way he talks about this Dustin kid makes him sound more like a little brother than anything else, and it's really sweet.

Shit, he's probably not terrible with the kids. Maybe Eddie better hold out hope for the wet towels or the terrible shower singing.

It's probably pretty damn late when Eddie hears the door open, and glances over. The man walking in is unfamiliar, but he's looking around the bar with a sense of purpose that makes Eddie grimace.

“We're all up to date on our liquor license and everything, right?” Eddie asks in a low voice.

Jeff frowns at him. “Of course. Why?”

“Check your ten o'clock,” Eddie says, purposefully adding in a little flair like he's a spy operative keeping an eye out for the enemy. “He's just screaming off duty cop.”

Both Jeff and Gareth crane their heads to look, leaving Eddie to sigh internally, but Steve plays along, tipping his head in towards Eddie like they're sharing a moment.

Steve's face is so close to his that he can feel the soft puff of air on his cheek when he breathes out, can see the whites of his eyes as his gaze flicks towards the door. Then he grins, and Eddie can see the way it makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Fuck, Eddie should be ridiculous around Steve more often.

“Retired cop, maybe,” Steve replies. “He's here for me. I, uh. I must have missed my curfew.”

Eddie looks back over at the guy, who must have spotted Steve, because he's making his way towards them.

“You still have a curfew?” Eddie teases.

“Shut up,” Steve says, but his smile hasn't faded.

“No, it's cute,” Eddie says. And honestly - it is. “Your dad is your ride when you've had a few too many to drink?”

Steve's eyes darken briefly. “My dad's an asshole,” he mutters, something cracked and bitter in his tone that Eddie's pretty sure wouldn't be there if Steve was entirely sober. “He wouldn't be caught anywhere near somewhere like this, or me in general.”

Well, shit, leave it to Eddie to open his mouth and accidentally step in it.

“Hey,” Eddie says, bumping his shoulder against Steve's. “Mine, too. Fuck ‘em, right? We're better off without them.”

“Better off without who?” Retired Cop asks as he stops in front of their table.

“Our terrible, horrible, no good, very bad fathers,” Eddie replies immediately, shooting Retired Cop what he hopes is a very charming grin.

It must be, considering Steve is back to smiling, and now he's looking at Eddie all soft and pleased.

Retired Cop grunts in what Eddie is going to optimistically assume is agreement.

“Hey, Hopper,” Steve greets. “This is Eddie, Jeff, and Gareth. Hopper's the head of security for Hawkins Heroes.”

“Among other things,” Hopper comments drily.

Eddie's going to guess those other things include picking up wayward activity directors when they stay out too late.

Steve looks a little abashed. “Sorry, lost track of time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hopper grumbles. “Get your shit and let's get going.”

“Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys,” Steve tells them.

“You kidding?” Jeff asks. “It was great, man.”

“Come back any time,” Gareth agrees.

“I'll have a new drink ready for you,” Eddie promises.

Somewhat foolishly, considering he knows that Jeff and Gareth are going to tease him about that, but the smile he gets flashed at him is well worth it.

“I still gotta settle the tab,” he hears Steve tell Hopper as they head out, but he's too distracted by Jeff and Gareth's smirks to think anything of it.

“Not a word,” Eddie threatens before either of them can say anything.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Gareth replies, batting his eyelashes at him instead of saying anything.

“Just let me know when you have the drink ready,” Jeff agrees mildly. “We can call it Steve's Special.”

Gareth and Jeff fistbump each other while Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves himself up out of his chair.

He ignores their laughter as he heads over April, who's behind the register at the moment.

“What's my damage for the night?” he asks.

“Your friend already paid,” she tells him.

“Okay?” He frowns at her, a little too tipsy to make any kind of connection between his question and her answer. “I mean, I'm glad he didn't duck out on his tab and leave me stuck with it, but I'd still like to pay mine?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, you moron, he paid for all of you.”

Eddie gapes at her. “He what?”

April smirks at him. “Guy that good looking, and he picks up the tab for you and those two? I'd hang onto him.”

Eddie's pretty sure his cheeks are bright red. He covers it up by muttering, “Son of a bitch. I'll get him for this.”

—

Steve's already at the bar when Eddie arrives for his shift that night, which instantly makes him perk up.

His crush on the guy is probably a little bit out of control, but eh, that's future Eddie's problem. Tonight Eddie gets the pleasure of some very nice eye candy all night, on top of the security of knowing he's going to have an awesome interaction with at least one patron.

Steve's clearly been there at least a little while, since there's a half eaten plate of loaded fries and a beer in front of him, and he's chatting enthusiastically with Grant.

Well.

Maybe chatting is the wrong word for it, now that Eddie gets a closer look at them.

Steve's leaning in, one elbow braced on the bartop with his gaze focused intently on Grant, as if he was the only person in the room. He's saying something in what must be a low tone, considering Grant's leaning back in to hear him. And is that -

Yup, that's a faint pink flush to Grant's cheeks.

Eddie gapes.

"Is Steve flirting with Grant?" he hisses the moment he finds Chrissy.

Chrissy rolls her eyes. "They got into an argument about pick up lines. Grant said pick up lines are shitty and cliche and don't work, and Steve insisted it's not about them being lines, it's about delivery and intention."

"So they're… flirting to prove a point?"

Damn it, why didn't Eddie think of that?

Chrissy's smiling at him, that sweet little grin she gives him when she knows exactly what's going on in his head. "Why don't you go over there and tell Steve where you sit on the pick up line debate?"

Eddie hip checks her, but, well.

It's not a bad idea.

He does go over, if only because he wants to say hi before he actually starts working.

He hears Grant laughing as he gets closer, but it sounds a little strained.

"Hey," Steve says quietly. "I meant all of it, you know. I wouldn't have said anything I didn't think was true. Any girl would be lucky to have you. Or, uh, guy, if you swung that way."

"You're kind of making me wish I swung that way," Grant teases, but there's something sincerely appreciative in his voice that tells Eddie that they'd been talking about more than just an argument about pick up lines.

If Steve could stop being so kind to his friends, that would really help out Eddie's stupid heart.

He tells himself very firmly to absolutely not think into the fact that Steve's apparently okay with guys dating other guys.

Instead, he stalks up to the counter as Grant walks away, pointing accusingly at Steve.

“I caught you!” he informs him. “What, did you think you could hide it from me? That I wouldn't notice? You're in so much trouble.”

Eddie's not sure what he's expecting, but it isn't for Steve's expression to completely crumble. He sags in the chair for a moment, then Eddie watches him visibly pull himself together, straightening up and looking solemnly at Eddie.

“Okay,” Steve says, very quietly. “How do you want to do this?”

And that - completely deflates the wind in Eddie's sails.

“You're not like, actually in trouble, dude,” Eddie tells him. “I just can't believe you thought you could pay our tabs and we wouldn't realize it.”

Steve's brow furrows, then smooths out. “Oh!”

It's clearly a startled little realization, which immediately makes Eddie narrow his eyes.

“What did you think I was talking about?” he asks.

“I, uh. I guess I just wasn't sure what I did to upset you?”

Eddie considers that. It's possible - but Steve hadn't looked confused, he'd looked resigned. Like there was a secret that he was keeping, and he hadn't been expecting to be able to continue to keep it, and he was pretty sure Eddie knowing it wasn't going to be anything good. But what could he -

And then he remembers that he walked over in the middle of Steve flirting with another guy, and clearly implying that he was okay with guys dating other guys, and -

And the first thing that Eddie said was that he caught Steve and he was in big trouble.

Shit.

“It, uh,” Eddie starts, then stops, pausing to think about how he wants to say this. “There's a rainbow flag pinned up at the corner of the bar.”

Steve gives him a tiny smile. “I noticed,” he says softly. “It's one of the things that made me come back here.”

“Really?” Eddie asks, immediately derailed. “It was my idea to put it up. I wanted people to know the Hideout is a safe space, even if it doesn't look like it.”

“It worked,” Steve tells him. “You're a good guy, Eddie, that was a great thought.”

Eddie flushes, ducking his head for a moment before he determinedly gets this conversation back on track. “So, uh, I just wanted to make sure you knew that none of the staff here are going to hassle you no matter what way you swing. Especially not me.”

Steve looks at him for a long moment. “Especially not you?” he repeats.

Eddie swallows, then nods. “Yeah.”

Steve's quiet at first. Then, “Thanks, Eddie.”

Eddie nods again, letting the moment sit for a little bit. Then he shoots him a teasing little grin, tipping his head at the beer in front of Steve. “What you're really in trouble for is getting a drink from another bartender here.”

Steve smirks at him. “Oh, that's not mine. It's Robin's.”

“Robin?” Eddie asks.

“My best friend, the one who likes lemon drops? She came with me today, said she wanted to meet the guys who got me to stay out so late,” Steve replies.

Oh!

Eddie straightens up, looking around. “Where is she? I want to meet her.”

“She was going to the bathroom, but I think she got distracted on her way back,” Steve says drily. He nods over towards where Chrissy is talking animatedly with a girl he's never seen before. “So you might have to wait a bit on that.”

Chrissy's smiling in a way he hasn't seen her do in a long time, which immediately makes him like this Robin girl.

“Guess you're stuck with me until then,” Steve adds.

“Oh, no,” Eddie says, voice monotone. “However will I get over my disappointment.”

Steve laughs. “You can start by getting me a drink.”

Yeah, okay, Eddie guesses he can do that.

He's going to finish the night by making the best impression possible on Steve's best friend, though.

Even if his own best friend seems to have gotten there first.

—

It's D&D night the next time Steve shows up at the bar.

The other regulars are pretty used to it, by now, and seem content to let the D&D crews take over the back half of the bar, but Steve hasn't seen it before. He's not sure when he started thinking of Steve as a regular - can someone be a regular if he doesn't live here, even if he does seem to come in every time he's in town? - but that's beside the point.

D&D nights were Eddie's idea. He'd wanted to do something similar to what he did in high school, give them a safe place to be able to play - only this time, some place fun, where they'd be welcome as adults instead of laughed at for playing a "kid's game." Even the nights when he isn't playing or DMing, he has a lot of fun with coming up with campaign themed drinks.

It's stupid, but he's kind of nervous about what Steve thinks of it. It's not like anything's going to happen with Eddie's crush, but he enjoys it anyway, enjoys Steve's company. It's going to suck if Steve laughs at it.

Steve beelines for the corner of the bar where Eddie's at as soon as he sees him, which makes Eddie smile involuntarily, despite the clench in his stomach when he sees Steve staring intently at the group in the back.

"Is that Dungeons and Dragons?" Steve asks.

"You know D&D?" Eddie asks. His stomach is still clenching, but now it's in a very, very different way.

"Yeah," Steve replies, shooting him a little smile. "Some of my friends play it. We actually used to have it as an activity for the kids, but Mike and Will are at college and Erica had this huge project she needs to finish for school, so it's on hold now."

"Have you ever played?" Eddie asks.

"A couple of times," Steve replies. "I did, uh. The side characters? For the kids a few times. Do you play?"

"Yeah. I used to run a D&D club in high school, actually, and I started D&D night here."

"Dude, that's really cool," Steve says, so genuine that it makes Eddie want to hide behind his hair. "Oh, hey, I know it's kind of a lot to ask, but would you be interested in doing it for camp this week? Some of the kids coming have really missed it. We'd pay you for your time, of course."

Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it again. "You want to pay me to DM a D&D game for summer camp?"

"Yes?" Steve says, like he's not sure why Eddie's in a little bit of disbelief here. "Only it's October now, so not summer camp anymore."

Right, because that's the unbelievable part.

"You know what? Sure. Do you want a one shot, or a short campaign?" Eddie asks.

Steve's face scrunches a bit in confusion.

"How many days do you want me there?" Eddie clarifies.

"All of them?" Steve blurts out.

Eddie's eyes widen, and Steve's ears go a little pink.

"I mean, how many can you do?" Steve asks.

Eddie considers. He could use some extra cash, and he's really missed throwing himself into D&D - he actually thinks he has the perfect campaign, one he used leading up to Halloween back in high school. A few tweaks and he thinks it'll be perfect.

"How about four days, five hour sessions each? Is that too long for the kids?" Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head. "Nah, I've seen them spend like ten hours playing before, five should be perfect. Come by the resort around noon tomorrow and I'll have the paperwork all ready for you?"

—

There's more security at the resort than Eddie remembers there being the handful of times that he's been there before.

Makes sense, he guesses, since there's more kids than adults there now. It'd probably look bad if the resort let just anyone onto the grounds and some of the kids got kidnapped or something. And if they've got celebrities coming in to get their good PR by volunteering, too, they've probably got to be at the top of their game.

Eddie must be on the approved list, though, because once he's shown his ID and proven who he is, he's given a “guest staff” badge, a map of the resort, and a list of which amenities he's allowed to use for the next week.

Nice. Steve hadn't mentioned that, but Eddie is definitely going to take advantage of it.

He's a little early to meet Steve, so he wanders around the inside of the resort instead, taking in everything.

Eventually he stumbles onto a lounge with a roaring fire and a massive plush sofa, occupied by a teenage girl and a bunch of textbooks.

“Can I help you?” she asks, for all the world like she's a busy executive behind a fancy desk and he's already wasting her time, instead of a teenager sprawled out on a couch doing her homework.

“I'm looking for Steve,” he says.

Her eyes narrow as she sits up. “Why?” There's an edge in her voice now, something a little bit protective.

That's kind of sweet, actually.

“I'm meeting him here about a temporary gig,” Eddie says. “Hi, I'm Eddie.”

Her expression shifts from wary to downright skeptical. “You're the DM who that hairbrain thinks will do a better job than me?”

Yeah, Eddie's taking back that sweet comment.

“You must be Erica,” he says.

“That's Lady Applejack to you,” she retorts with a sniff. “You better be at the top of your game, or I will sneak behind any monster you throw my way and stab them in the back with my poison-soaked kukri. And I'll smile as I watch them die a slow, agonizing death.”

Oh, fuck, Eddie likes this kid.

He raises one eyebrow at her. “I thought you had a big project that you're supposed to be working on?”

She stares right back at him, unimpressed. “You going to rat me out if I come play?”

Eddie hams it up a little, making a big show of thinking it over. Before he can tell her that obviously, he's the last one to give any kind of quibble about playing D&D instead of doing homework, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching echoes through the lounge.

“Hey, Erica?” Steve's voice calls, sounding a little strained. “Can you keep an eye out for Eddie, tell him I'm going to be a little late? I gotta - oh. You're here!”

Steve's rounded the corner, and now Eddie can see the reason for the heavier footsteps. He's giving a piggyback ride to a kid, who looks about eleven or twelve. The kid's face is screwed up in pain, and Eddie spots a bloody, skinned knee peeking through ripped jeans.

“Hey, man,” Steve greets. “Give me a minute? I've got to get this guy to the nurse.”

“I don't want to go see Nurse Henderson,” the kid sulks. “Can't you just patch it up yourself? Max is going to tell me I should have just walked it off!”

“Probably,” Steve admits. “But she'd also want you to get looked at if you're really hurt. And Nurse Henderson is the only one who's qualified to decide that, right? Besides, didn't we already talk about not doing stupid things just for a girl?”

“Especially for a girl like Max, who's way too old for me,” the kid replies, in a tone of voice that says, yes, he's heard all of this before. “Fine, I'll go to the nurse.”

“I'll keep Eddie company,” Erica volunteers.

Steve looks at her with narrowed eyes.

“I'm just making sure his campaign is up to snuff,” she informs him.

Steve relaxes, though he still cuts his gaze over to Eddie and waits for him to nod before he takes off.

Eddie tilts his head at Erica. “How would you feel about a little extra backstory? A little party betrayal, maybe?”

Her eyes light up. “I'm listening.”

By the time Steve comes back, Eddie and Erica and hunched over character sheets, and they've got a frankly amazing tie in for Lady Applejack into his slightly tweaked campaign.

“I take it things went well?” Steve asks.

Erica stuffs her character sheets into her folder. “He'll do.”

Eddie gets the feeling that's high praise, coming from her.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Lady Applejack,” he says solemnly.

She rolls her eyes, but accepts the hug that Steve gives her, and Eddie's pretty sure he hears Steve whisper thank you.

“Come on, let's go see Joyce,” Steve says. “She's the director of Hawkins Hope, she's amazing. Then we can grab lunch after.”

“Are you bribing me with fancy resort food?” Eddie asks.

Steve grins at him. “Maybe.”

Joyce is amazing, but lunch with Steve is even better. Eddie makes a big deal of moaning over how good the food is, but really, making Steve laugh is the best part.

Yeah, Eddie's in way too deep.

—

"Eddie!" Steve greets when he comes into the Hideout a few days after the final session. He sounds a little bit breathless, and Eddie immediately smiles.

It's amazing how much having a favorite regular there improves his night, on top of the fact that he thinks he and Steve are actually friends now.

"Hey, man," he greets. "The kids all get where they're supposed to be okay?"

Steve looks at him like he did something amazing, instead of just asking a question that any decent human being would ask, but Eddie's not going to protest.

"Yeah, just the staff left now. Hey, I wanted to ask - we're doing a masquerade event on Halloween as a fundraiser. I mean, the event itself is going to be kind of shitty, catering to a bunch of semi famous people, but the staff are having an after party. Do you want to come?"

Eddie swallows, trying not to get his hopes up. "Me?"

"Well, yeah, you were basically staff this week, so you should come."

"Oh." Turns out it didn't work, not getting his hopes up, and now he's fighting disappointment.

Steve must take that for reluctance, though, because he adds, "Chrissy and Jeff and Grant and Gareth are all welcome too, so you don't have to worry about not knowing anyone there? Unless you guys already had plans."

"Nah, I think we were just going to hang out and watch shitty horror movies, I'm sure they'd rather go to an after party at the resort," Eddie says.

It sounds like a much better night than anything they had planned, even if it isn't what he thought Steve might be asking.

"Good! Uh, that's good." Steve looks uncertain for a moment, like he's having a debate with himself. Whatever it is, he must come to a decision, because he leans over the counter a little. "What about you?"

…okay, maybe he's not completely out of luck here.

"Me?" Eddie asks again, but this time he keeps his gaze locked on Steve's.

"You," Steve says again. "I was really hoping you'd come, Eds."

"Yeah? What do I get if I go?"

Steve smiles at him, this soft little hopeful thing, and his eyes drop briefly down to Eddie's lips. "I got a few things in mind."

Oh fuck, this is happening.

"Well now you've got me intrigued. I guess I better make an appearance."

Steve's expression lights up. “See you at the resort at ten?”

—

There's even more security when Eddie arrives at the resort on Halloween. He isn't driving - he's pretty sure there's going to be free alcohol tonight, and he's planning on taking full advantage of it - but the cab he and the others took gets stopped three times by security guards, and each time they have to show their IDs.

“Who the hell is going to the stupid masquerade?” Eddie grumbles after they finally get dropped off at a side entrance to the resort.

“Celebrities,” Gareth says with a roll of his eyes.

There's still a small crowd of people exiting the resort through the main entrance a little bit away, and despite the grumbling and eye rolling, none of them can help craning their heads just a little, to see if there's anyone they recognize.

There isn't - looks mostly like people with press badges and cameras.

There's a little bit of a commotion, though, and that makes them pause, just for a moment.

“He owes us!” someone is shouting. “One song for the bronze tier donors, that's it? What does Alistair think he's trying to pull?”

“Oh, wow,” Chrissy says. “I mean, I knew Alistair was the celebrity endorser for the charity, but I didn't think he'd be here tonight.”

Eddie shrugs. “Steve said it was for the semi famous.”

“Alistair and Hawk are a little more than semi famous,” Jeff points out.

There's more shouting at the front entrance that distracts them, though - looks like whoever it was that was complaining is getting very firmly escorted out to the parking lot by security.

“What are you losers still doing out here?” someone asks, and Eddie turns over to see Erica scowling at him from the side entrance.

He beams at her. “Lady Applejack, destroyer of Vecna, light of my life!”

Erica rolls her eyes. “Get your butts in here,” she orders, disappearing through the side entrance.

Eddie and his friends dutifully follow her, down a few hallways and into a massive ballroom that's all decorated in orange and black lights, fake cobwebs, swooping bats, and even a fog machine. There's about thirty or so people mingling about, but fortunately, she leads them to where Steve and Robin are standing together. They're both dressed in black tuxedos, but Robin has a twinkling gold halo crowned on her head and a pair of feathery wings, and Steve has a pair of devil horns. There's a cup of something bright orange in each of their hands.

Jesus, Steve looks even more gorgeous.

“Hey!” Steve greets, lighting up. “You guys made it!”

There's a round of greetings, finished by Steve pointing out the tables laden with food - some of it is clearly fancy shit that was probably left over from the masquerade, but a decent chunk of it is freshly made, mixed in with a ton of boxes of pizza and pitchers of various drinks.

“Come on,” Steve says, circling his fingers around Eddie's wrist and giving it a tug. “I want to introduce you to my friends.”

Steve leads him around the room, weaving through the small crowd and stopping whenever he finds someone. Eddie meets Jonathon Byers, Argyle, and Nancy Wheeler - Steve's ex, apparently, which throws him for a moment when he sees that they're clearly good friends.

Eddie can't imagine being friends with any of the small handful of exes he has.

Steve shrugs when he says as much. “Nancy and I are much better as friends,” he admits. “Our break up was… all right, it was pretty bad. But it was a long time coming. We just didn't work, you know? We wanted different things.”

“Not a great point in favor of you still being friends,” Eddie points out.

Steve laughs. “Nancy's amazing at what she does. She's an investigative reporter for her real job - she just volunteers here, because it's family. It's a lot easier being her friend.”

Eddie's not completely convinced, but he'll take Steve's word for it.

Nancy seems pretty great, anyway, when both of their circles of friends end up spending most of the party together. She and Robin and Chrissy keep ducking their heads together and giggling, and Jeff and Jonathon are having some kind of emphatic discussion about something Eddie doesn't really understand, and he's pretty sure Gareth and Grant and Argyle have snuck off somewhere to smoke weed.

Eddie's a little disappointed they didn't invite him, except, well, Steve's been pretty much plastered to his side the whole time, so he can't really complain.

“You want to get out of here?” Steve asks, when Eddie has definitely had too many candy corn jello shots to be effectively considering the ramifications of that question.

He agrees anyway, wholeheartedly, and hopes he doesn't come across as way, way too eager.

Steve is beaming at him, though, and he leads him out of the room.

“Let's go for a walk?” Steve suggests, which isn't quite where Eddie's mind had been going, but he can admit it's probably a better idea than anything he might have come up with.

So they grab their coats, and Steve winds a scarf around Eddie's neck even though Eddie insists it isn't that cold out.

He's pretty sure the scarf is Steve's, though - it smells like his cologne - so he doesn't actually try to stop him.

“This is definitely a date, right?” Eddie asks as they're walking along the path to the lake, their fingers laced together.

You know, just to make absolutely certain.

“Yeah, it's definitely a date,” Steve says with a little laugh.

“It's technically our fourth date,” Eddie points out.

There's a little furrow between Steve's brow as he frowns at him. “What?”

Eddie holds up his free hand so he can tick them off his fingers. “One, you bought me drinks and dinner at the Hideout.”

“I paid for Jeff and Gareth too!” Steve protests.

“Two,” Eddie says, ignoring him. “You bought me lunch at the resort.”

“We're staff, we get free lunch!” Steve says.

“Three, you invited me to go to a Halloween party with you. And four, moonlight walk by the lake,” he finishes triumphantly.

“Those are the same date!” Steve's clearly trying to sound exasperated, but he's grinning, so Eddie's calling it a win. “And the other two are like, half dates. So if you really want to, we can call this our second date.”

“Come on, sneaking away from the Halloween party to get time alone is at least worth a half date on its own.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, two and a half dates.”

Eddie pumps his fist in victory, but he doesn't get time to crow too much about it.

Steve kisses him for the first time out by the lake, leaves rustling in the wind and the reflection of the moon hanging heavy and orange.

It's perfect.

At the end of the night, after they've been gone from the party for so long that people have had to notice - though no one says anything - Steve gives him a piece of paper with his number on it.

“You don't have to call me,” Steve tells him, like there's any chance that Eddie won't use it immediately. “But I'd like it if you did.”

Eddie steals a pen and paper from the front desk, sprawls down his own phone number and shoves it at Steve.

“Here,” he says. “So you'll know it's me when I call you as soon as I get home.”

—

Eddie expected it to be a little awkward, trying to keep up a relationship - or whatever this is, is it a relationship when they've only had two and a half dates? - via phone, but it really isn't. Steve remembers his work schedule, and he calls him every day after he gets home from work, and it -

It's almost as good as having him there. They talk about their days, about everything and nothing, and it's so fucking good it helps distract him from knowing he's not going to be able to see Steve in person again until December.

Or at least, he wasn't supposed to see him until December.

But about a week after Steve's gone, when he's hanging out with Chrissy and trying to pretend like he doesn't miss him an unreasonable amount, Eddie asks, “Who is Alistair, anyway?”

Chrissy raises her eyebrows at him. “You don't know?”

Eddie shrugs. “It hasn't come up.”

“Scoops Troop?” Chrissy asks, like that's supposed to mean something. “The pop duo?”

And yeah, all right, the name sounds vaguely familiar, but it's not anything that Eddie looks for, and he shrugs again. “I mean, sure, I've probably heard some of their songs on the radio.”

She rolls her eyes. “You're ridiculous. I have a poster of Alistair in my bedroom, it's your favorite one. You've listened to him with me, he does that cover you really like, the one you said at least he wasn't a coward who changes the gender when he covers female songs.”

Shit, okay, yeah, now Eddie knows who she's talking about. He remembers that poster - a blown up shot of the pop star wearing a pair of tight jeans with the button popped, bare chested, head tilted back so all you could see was the line of his neck and the underside of his chin. He remembers sitting with Chrissy a year or so after they graduated high school, listening to one of his albums, hearing the guy sing about how it feels to watch the man he loves kiss some other girl, remembers how the song had stuck with him.

Huh. Handsome, good singer, funds charities - maybe he should have given more of his songs a chance.

“Oh,” Eddie says.

Chrissy laughs softly. “Yeah, oh. Should I tell Steve to watch out for your crush?”

Eddie bumps his shoulders into hers. “Steve is prettier,” he says confidently. “And sweeter, and funnier, and - everything-er.”

He does know to cut himself off before he starts going into too much detail, though, and instead he flops down on his bed.

“What's his deal, then? You have a poster, you probably know some things.”

Chrissy shrugs, flopping down next to him. “He's pretty private. Teenage pop star, made it big pretty quickly, had a huge, blow up falling out with his manager and record label. Went quiet for a while, made a massive comeback with a new manager and label as part of a duo with Hawk.”

Eddie hums softly. Nothing all that interesting - or nothing out of the ordinary from things he's read about in the music industry before.

“What was the blow up about?” he asks, curious. He could go look it up himself, of course, but it's easier to ask Chrissy.

“Something about his manager and label mismanaging his earnings. There was some kind of scandal back then about exploitation of child stars, it's why you don't see Harrington Studios or Brenner Talent Acquisition around much anymore.”

Jesus.

“Wait,” Eddie says. “Harrington Studios? Like Steve Harrington?”

Chrissy frowns. “Maybe?”

“Shit, Steve did say his dad was an asshole who wouldn't want to be anywhere near him,” Eddie says. “I wonder if that's why Steve cut ties.”

“You could call him and ask him,” Chrissy says mildly. “Didn't he say he and Robin were just going to be hanging around at home the next few days?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at her. “You just want to talk to Robin,” he protests, even though he's already picking up the phone.

Steve and Robin are home, and Steve sounds so happy to hear from him that Eddie almost immediately forgets everything else.

“I miss you,” Eddie says before he thinks better of it, before he wonders if maybe that's too much.

“I miss you too,” Steve says immediately, sounding a little bit relieved - like maybe he was worried it was too much, too. “I wish I could see you.”

“Hawkins isn't too far from here,” Eddie points out. “And I've got a guest room.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, his voice a little soft, a little hopeful.

“Yeah. Come stay the night, we'll get pizza and watch bad movies.”

Steve hums a little like he's considering it, but it's playful, and Eddie's pretty sure he's going to say yes. “Are we counting this as a whole date, or is this another half date?”

Eddie breaks out into a grin. “Half date,” he decides. “That'll bring us up to three, and tomorrow we can make four.”

“Deal,” Steve agrees. “See you soon.”

Steve kisses him the second he and Robin arrive, crowding him in against the wall in the narrow hallway like it's been so much longer than a week since they last saw each other.

“Hi,” Steve murmurs when they break for air.

“Hi,” Eddie replies breathlessly, smiling so wide it hurts.

They end up squished together on the couch, Steve and Robin in the middle with Eddie and Chrissy on either side of them. After the pizza's gone, and they're mid way through their second movie - Eddie glances over, sees Robin's feet tucked under Steve's thigh, Steve's hand curled loosely around her ankle, Chrissy's head pillowed on Robin's shoulder.

Which sounds like a fantastic idea, actually, and he squishes down so he can lean into Steve's chest, Steve's arm wrapped around his shoulders.

Later, after the girls have disappeared into the guest room and Steve and Eddie are getting ready for bed, Steve seems… nervous, almost, as they climb under the covers.

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks.

“There's things you don't know about me,” Steve admits quietly. “Important things.”

Things like his dad owning a record label and working with a manager who exploits children, Eddie'd guess. Not a great thing for a guy who now works so closely with kids.

But Eddie trusts him.

“Hey,” he says softly. “It's okay. I mean, you don't know everything about me either, right? We're only at date three. It's okay if you want to take this slow, to get to know each other before we jump into the messy stuff.”

Steve looks like he's thinking about that. “That's okay?”

“Yeah, of course. If you want to feel each other out, keep this low commitment, even see other people, that's fine.”

It's not really fine, but now Eddie's said it, so he can't take it back.

Steve frowns at him. “I don't want to keep this low commitment,” he protests. “Eds - I'm in this. I don't want to date anyone else.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, a little shaky.

Steve's expression shutters a little. “Did you want to?”

“No!” Eddie replies, a little too quickly. “No, of course not. I just didn't want to pressure you. I, uh, I'm in this too.”

“Good.” Steve tips his head in to kiss him softly. “But - maybe slow is good? I haven't really had a serious relationship since Nancy and I broke up.”

“It's been a while for me, too,” Eddie admits. “…is it bad that it kind of makes me feel better? That we're both figuring this out together?”

Steve snorts. “Nah. Not bad. I kind of like the idea of figuring things out with you.”

—

“Hey, Munson!” April shouts from the office, when he's elbow deep in sudsy water doing the dishes. “You got a phone call!”

“Who is it?” Eddie yells back. He doesn't want to lose his groove if it's just a crank call, or one of his friends with something far from urgent.

“Some guy named Steve! Want me to tell him to get lost?” she asks.

“No!” Eddie yelps immediately. Then, in what he hopes is a calmer voice, “No, I'll come get it.”

He dries off his hands, passes April on the way to the office and has to put up with her smirking at him, but he pointedly ignores her.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie greets, already feeling himself smiling.

“Hey,” Steve says back. “Am I interrupting a busy shift?”

He sounds - just a little bit off. Almost like his normal self, but more like he's forcing himself to sound normal.

Eddie frowns. “Even if you were, it'd be a welcome interruption. What's up?”

“It's nothing really important,” Steve says. “I just - wanted to hear your voice, I guess.”

Oh.

Eddie lets himself feel soft and gushy over that for a moment before he leans out to shout, “April, I'm taking my lunch!” and closes the door to the office.

“Eds, you don't have to do that,” Steve protests. “I just wan-”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie cuts him off gently. “I can tell something's wrong. Taking my lunch is nothing - I'd drive to Hawkins right now to see you if you wanted.”

Eddie can Steve breathe out, a slow, ragged exhale.

“What happened?” Eddie asks.

“My dad happened,” Steve mutters.

Shit.

“Well, if anyone gets how hard it can throw you off when your shitty dad pops back up in your life, it's me,” Eddie says. “You want to talk about it?”

Steve's quiet for a moment. “I don't know why I let him still get to me,” he says after a while. “He didn't even talk directly to me. He hasn't tried to reach out since I cut him off, but he still knows exactly what to say to get under my skin, and he knows where to do it so it'll get right back to me. God, it's so stupid. I don't even care about his opinion, but…”

“But he's your dad,” Eddie finishes for him when he trails off. “Even if he's terrible, even if you don't want to be anything like him, even if you don't really want his good opinion, it's always going to matter a little.”

There's another exhale, though this one's tinged with something like relief. “Yeah. Exactly.”

“What'd he say?” Eddie asks.

Steve snorts. “Just the usual shit. I'm not living up to my potential, I'm wasting my time on publicity stunts, I've lost sight of what's really important.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters. “Your dad really is an asshole.”

“Grade A,” Steve confirms.

“You sure you don't want me to drive down there?” Eddie offers.

“Nah,” Steve says, though Eddie can hear a smile in his voice. “I'm with Robin. She just went to pick up dinner, she should be back soon. Just, uh. Like I said, I wanted to hear your voice. It always makes me feel better.”

“You can't say stuff like that to me when you're not in kissing range,” Eddie teases. Mostly to cover up the way it makes his heart beat a little too fast.

“Sorry,” Steve replies, not sounding apologetic at all.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie says. “I'll still stay on the phone with you until Robin gets back. What do you want me to talk about?”

Steve hesitates for a moment before asking, “Is it too much to ask about what happened the last time your dad popped up?”

Part of Eddie wants to say that nothing Steve could ask him for would be too much, but he does the responsible thing and actually thinks about it before he answers.

“I was seventeen,” he says, once he's decided that yeah, he's okay with Steve knowing this. “I'd been living with my Uncle Wayne for almost five years. He blows back into town, claims he has something of my mom's that she'd always wanted me to get, before she got sick.”

“What was it?” Steve asks.

Eddie snorts. “Nothing. I already had everything of hers that she left behind. He didn't realize I'd already emptied out the old house after he left the last time. But he said he missed me, said he needed me. That he really wanted it to be the two of us this time, the way we always talked about when I was younger and he was teaching me things.”

Steve makes a little encouraging noise.

“Shitty things,” Eddie clarifies. “Other dads taught their kids how to fish or play ball, but mine? He taught me how to hotwire cars. Even at seventeen, he had me convinced. I wanted to believe him so bad, I went along with his idea. Ended up with him skipping town and me in a jail cell taking the fall. My uncle had to come bail me out.”

“I'm sorry, Eddie,” Steve says quietly.

Eddie shrugs, even though Steve can't see him. “It's not your fault.”

“That's not why I'm sorry,” Steve retorts, in a tone that Eddie knows means he's rolling his eyes. “I'm sorry that he couldn't see how amazing you are. You deserve better.”

Eddie feels his cheeks heat up. “So do you,” he replies. “Fuck our dads, all right?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees empathetically. “Fuck ‘em. Who needs them when we have people who actually give a shit about us?”

Eddie wishes they were together, so he could take Steve's hand or tug him in for a hug or something, to make it clear that Eddie is one of those people who gives a shit about Steve.

“Yeah,” he settles for saying. “You can call me anytime, you know that, right?”

“I do now,” Steve says softly. “Thanks, Eds.”

Fuck.

“Any time,” Eddie managed to get out.

“You too, okay? Any time. Even if I don't answer right away, I'll always call you back.”

—

Eddie's pulling his boxes of Christmas decorations out of the storage space off of his little balcony when he notices one of the boxes is damaged.

He's not sure what happened. Water leaking, maybe, or maybe just the box giving out, but it's sagging in on itself, and when Eddie opens it he - he sees the remains of some of his oldest Christmas decorations. The ones that belonged to his mom.

Eddie stares at them for a long time, fighting back tears, and then goes inside to call his boyfriend.

“Hey, Stevie,” he says when he gets his answering machine. He doesn't even bother trying to sound like he isn't bummed. “It's not urgent, just - some of the Christmass stuff I had from my mom got wrecked. Guess I just wanted to hear your voice. Give me a call when you get this, yeah?”

There's an awkward pause that he almost fills with love you, before he hangs up real quick so he doesn't end up going there on a fucking voicemail of all things.

He doesn't really know how long it's going to be before Steve's able to call him back, and it's stupid to just wait around waiting, but… he can't actually bring himself to do the only thing he had planned today and get the Christmas decorations up.

Eddie's still dithering around hours later when the doorbell rings, and he considers ignoring it and pretending he isn't home. He's not in the mood to be any kind of good company, after all.

But then he hears Steve's voice calling his name through the door, and he's on his feet and opening it up before he knows it.

“You're here,” Eddie says, a little gobsmacked.

Steve shifts his weight, looking a little hesitant. “Is that okay? I mean, I know you said you wouldn't mind driving down to Hawkins for me if -”

Steve cuts off, because Eddie's dragged him inside the apartment and pressed him against the back of the door, doing his level best to kiss him senseless.

“It's not too much?” Steve manages to ask in between kisses.

“It's so far from too much,” Eddie returns.

Eddie's not really sure he knows what to do with someone who drove all the way here just for him, just because he was sad, but Jesus, he's not going to complain about it now.

They're both a little disheveled by the time they manage to get away from the door, and Steve gives him a tentative little smile.

“I brought you this,” Steve says, holding something out to him.

Eddie takes it, and it's - a copy of Loretta Lynn's Country Christmas. A signed copy. A signed copy specifically addressed to Eddie, wishing him a merry Christmas and a wonderful holiday season.

He looks back up, gaping at Steve a little. “Steve?”

“It was supposed to be your Christmas present,” Steve says. “But I thought - maybe you could use it now.”

Jesus Christ, Eddie's pretty sure he's really close to crying. He squeezes his eyes shut, taking a ragged breath.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

He sets the album down, then practically launches himself at Steve, folding him into his arms and hugging him tight. Steve lets himself be held, sinking into the embrace and hugging him back just as strong.

Eventually, when Eddie's reasonably certain he's not in danger of crying - or blurting out a love confession - Eddie pulls back.

“How long are you here for?” he asks.

Steve shrugs. “I don't have any where to be now. I finished work up early, so I've got a few days before we have to get started on winter camp and the Hawkins Hope Christmas gala.”

“Stay here?” Eddie asks, even though he's a little afraid he's pushing it. The guy drove here for him after one upset voicemail, he's pretty sure he's not going to be turned off by the suggestion of staying over a few days.

“Shit, yeah, I'd love to. You want me to help decorate?” Steve offers.

Eddie swallows past the lump in his throat and nods. “Yeah, that'd be great.”

He puts on Loretta Lynn, and before he knows it he's laughing along with Steve as they bicker about where to put some of the decorations and immediately agree on others.

It's a much better day than Eddie could have ever imagined.

—

“How'd you guys even find this place?”

It's mid December, and the Hawkins Hope crew officially have the resort for the rest of the year.

Which means Eddie's been hanging out there pretty much all of his days off, to the point where the security staff don't even bother to check his ID anymore. They just let him waltz right into the resort to meet Steve at one of the lounges.

Or in the room Steve's staying in, which is where they're at now.

“We rented it out for a couple of weeks back in the spring. Or I guess, technically Scoops Troop did, but when Joyce saw it we figured it would be the perfect place.”

“That was you guys?” Eddie asks. “I figured it was some doucebag pop singer.”

“Well, I guess you'd be kind of right, depending on how you feel about Scoops Troop.” Steve says it too casually, like he's trying to pretend that he doesn't care about Eddie's response - but he clearly cares about Eddie's response.

Eddie hums softly. “How do you feel about Scoops Troop?”

“Hawk is fantastic,” Steve replies immediately. “She's so, so talented, she could do just about anything, you know? She's funny, and so damn smart, she's just amazing.”

Briefly, Eddie wonders if he should be jealous, but nah. Steve'd sounded similar to the way he does when he talks about Robin, and Eddie knows there's nothing going on there.

“What about Alistair?” Eddie asks.

Steve gives a one shouldered shrug. “I don't think my opinion really matters all that much.”

“Of course it matters, Stevie, your opinion always matters,” Eddie says.

Steve smiles at him, soft and fond. “Thank you.”

Eddie waits, but apparently Steve is going to play hard to get on the subject of Alistair. “Do you like him?”

Steve shrugs again. “Yeah, sure.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, squirming a little so he's draped across Steve's lap, staring up at him expectantly.

Steve huffs out a little laugh, carding his fingers through Eddie's hair.

“It was touch and go there for a little bit,” Steve admits. “There was some pretty dicklike behavior going on for a while.”

Eddie gives a dramatic gasp. “A teenage idol? Being a dick? You don't say.”

There's another little laugh, which Eddie's going to count as a win.

“And now?” Eddie asks. “The charity thing, is that all a cover?”

“Nah,” Steve says. “That's genuine. You go through some shit, get a couple of good thumps on the head, it can change your perspective on a lot of things. Makes you realize what's important, and what's just bullshit, you know?”

It sounds like Steve's speaking from experience, and Eddie makes a little encouraging noise.

“My dad did some pretty shitty things to some of my friends,” he says quietly. “And to me. There was a time when I was probably too much like him. I mean, I wasn't ever that bad, but - I put popularity and shit above the things that really mattered.”

“It's hard to imagine you like that,” Eddie says.

Steve frowns a little. “Really?”

“Well, okay, you're kind of a preppy jock, and back in high school I would have thought you were a huge asshole. But I mean, I was kind of a dick back then, too. I probably would have judged you without even knowing you. And now, knowing you? Shit, you're amazing, Steve.”

Steve swallows, leaning down to kiss him.

“I kind of like that you don't know a lot about Alistair,” Steve admits quietly.

“Really?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Most of the people that I work with, aside from the core staff? They're in this because it's a good look for them, or because of their connections with Scoops Troop. You're one of the few who helped out just because of the kids.”

“You guys did pay me,” Eddie points out.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but you said yes before you even knew how much. It wasn't because of some celebrity, it was just because you're a good guy.”

Something squirms around in Eddie's gut, in a way that he can't decide is good or not. Don't get him wrong, Steve telling him he's a good guy's got his heart beating a little quicker, but he also feels like Steve's got the wrong impression of him.

“I mean, I also did it because you asked me to,” he says, before Steve goes thinking it was entirely selfless. “And you're the prettiest guy I've ever seen.”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “You agreed to help out just to get paid and to get in my pants?”

“Well, not just that. It worked though, didn't it?”

There's another laugh, and Steve jostles him with his knee a little. “Seriously, though. There's not a lot of people in my life that aren't here because of Alistair.”

It's Eddie's turn to swallow. “Well, now you've got me.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, still far too serious. His eyes are so intense as he looks down at Eddie, like he's seeing straight through him - like he's on the verge of saying something big, something maybe too big.

“So what are you going to do with me, then?” Eddie asks, light and teasing, wiggling his eyebrows.

It works to break the moment, though Steve's still looking at him almost too closely.

“Keep you,” Steve says. “If you'll let me.”

Jesus Christ.

“Yeah,” Eddie replies. “Yeah, I'll let you.”

—

The sound of a piano playing draws him down one of the resort hallways, smiling softly as he recognizes it as a Billy Joel song.

“La, la-la, di-di-da,” echoes along with the notes of the piano. “La-la di-di-da da-dum.”

He follows the sound, until he reaches another one of the resort's many little lounging areas. This one has the customary fireplace, wide open windows with gorgeous scenery, and cozy seating. It also has a baby grand piano, and Eddie's a little shocked to see Steve sitting at it, eyes closed as he plays.

“Sing us a song, you're the piano man,” Steve croons. His voice is a little raspy, a little rough, low and soft and so fucking gorgeous that it makes Eddie catch his breath. “Sing us a song tonight. Well, we're all in the mood for a melody.”

“And you've got us feeling all right,” Eddie chimes in.

Steve's eyes fly open, and he looks a little panicked for a moment before his gaze catches on Eddie. The tension in his body relaxes a little, though there's something about him that seems a bit wary.

It makes Eddie feel like maybe he shouldn't make a big deal about this, shouldn't exclaim that he didn't know Steve could play or tell him that he should sing more often.

“Practicing for a music activity with the kids?” Eddie asks.

Steve's expression lights up with a smile, and Eddie immediately feels like he's said the right thing.

Which isn't all that common of an occurrence, honestly. Makes it feel pretty damn good that he just about always gets it right with Steve.

“Doing a piano lesson later,” Steve says.

“And you're going to teach them Billy Joel?” he asks.

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “Christmas carols, actually. I was just trying to warm up a little.”

“Don't mind me,” Eddie says, plopping down at the bench next to him and leaning against him. “Warm up away. Hey, you play one I know, and I'll even sing.”

Steve's expression goes contemplative for a moment. “How about we sing together?”

“You don't have to,” Eddie says a little guiltily, kind of worried that he'd made him feel pressured.

Steve shakes his head. “I want to. What's your favorite Christmas song?”

“Carol of the Bells,” Eddie says immediately.

Steve barks out a little laugh.

“What?” Eddie demands, bumping his shoulder. “It's a good one!”

“I know,” Steve says. “It's my favorite, too. It's just not a great dueting song.”

“Nah, come on, give me some notes. We got this,” Eddie insists.

Steve rolls his eyes, but his fingers dance over the keys as he starts playing.

“Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, throw cares away.” Eddie's not exactly singing so much as he's whispering the words into Steve's ear, lips brushing up right against his skin.

It makes Steve's breath catch. He tips his head to face Eddie, playing without looking.

“Christmas is here, bringing good cheer, to young and old, meek and the bold,” Steve whisper sings back. Even like this, he sounds good - Eddie can tell he must have gotten some training, but with who Steve's dad is, he's not surprised.

Eddie kind of figures that's why any musical ability Steve has would be a sore subject, so he doesn't ask about it. “Ding dong ding dong, that is their song, with joyful ring, all caroling.”

“One seems to hear, words of good cheer,” Steve sings, lips so close to Eddie's that they're practically breathing the same air. “From everywhere, filling the air.”

Steve joins him in singing, “Oh how they pound, raising the sound,” their voices melding together in a way that Eddie's not sure is technically good, but fuck it feels downright magical.

They make it through a few more verses like that, but Steve kisses him before they finish out the song, and they're too distracted to get back to it.

Really, it's not like Eddie's going to complain.

Steve's amazing with the kids, he's clearly not a terrible shower singer, and Eddie's not holding out much hope for the wet towels on the floor at this point.

Eddie just doesn't know how he got so lucky.

—

When Eddie opens the door, Chrissy immediately smacks him with a magazine, but doesn't say anything until she and Jeff have pushed their way into his apartment and shut the door behind them.

Eddie blinks at them, bewildered.

“When were you going to tell us?” she asks in a low, excited whisper.

“Tell you what?” he asks.

“He probably swore you to secrecy, right?” Jeff asks.

“Can we talk about it now that we know?” Chrissy says. “Oh, wait, you probably had to sign an NDA or something, right?”

Jeff makes a face. “Are we going to have to sign an NDA?”

“An NDA about what?” Eddie demands.

Chrissy thrusts the magazine at him, shaking it until he takes it.

Oh.

That's Steve and Robin on the cover, wearing matching Christmas sweaters, with glitter on their eyelids and cheeks and snowflakes in their hair.

He can feel his expression go a little dopey and fond, but hey, how is he supposed to help it?

Eddie assumes it's some kind of article about the Christmas gala Hawkins Hope is throwing, but the caption of the picture catches his eye as he's looking up.

Christmastime With Scoops Troop! Alistair and Hawk spill about their holiday traditions.

It's not until Eddie hears Chrissy saying, “Oh” and Jeff going, “Oh shit, you didn't know,” that Eddie realizes he's gaping.

Eddie slams his jaw shut. “No,” he says tightly, feeling a sharp stab of hurt covered up immediately by a blinding rush of anger. “No, I didn't know that my boyfriend is famous. Apparently that's something that he didn't feel was important to tell me.”

He throws the magazine down onto the couch, stalking around the living room. “Apparently Alistair likes to play games with poor, hick bartenders, make them think they've found something amazing, while Mr. Famous Douchebag is probably off laughing with his other celebrity friends about what an idiot I am.”

“Eddie,” Chrissy says, sounding a little shocked. “I don't know if that's fair.”

“Fair?” Eddie demands. “Fair would have been leaving me the hell out of however he gets his rocks off. It wasn't coming into the Hideout again and again, hanging out with us and getting to know us, all the time keeping something like this!”

“Hey,” Jeff cuts in. “Come on, man, Steve didn't owe us anything then. He was just a guy coming into a bar to get some drinks, getting along with the staff there.”

Eddie snarls, because he wants to be as furious as possible, and he isn't thrilled that Jeff's making a logical point. “Fine,” he concedes. “But he owed me something. He should have told me what I was getting into before I got too deep. I don't - what, was his plan to just keep quiet about this forever and hope I wouldn't find out? How stupid does he think I am?”

Chrissy and Jeff are silent at that, but that just deflates Eddie more than if they had tried to argue with him.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asks.

“Do you want to break up with him?” Chrissy asks.

Eddie startles. “No!” Then he pauses, considering. “I don't know.”

“You don't know?” Jeff prompts.

“What if all of this was a game? What if he never liked me at all, and he was just a celebrity asshole having some fun?”

“What if it wasn't?” Chrissy counters gently. “What if he's just a guy who found someone he really liked and was too scared to tell him about this?”

Eddie drops down into the couch, burying his head in his hands. “I have to talk to him, don't I?”

—

Eddie goes to talk to him.

He asks the resort staff to let Steve know that he's here, waits around in the front entrance until one of the staff tells him they got the go ahead to let Eddie wait in Steve's room.

Eddie's sitting on the bed when Steve there.

“Eddie? Are you okay, they told me you-” Steve cuts off, and Eddie's going to assume that he saw the magazine in Eddie's hands.

He can't bring himself to look up to see him, to check for sure.

“Was any of it real?” he asks. His voice comes out rough, though he manages not to sound like he's on the verge of tears.

“God, Eds, of course it's real, how can-”

“Don't,” Eddie cuts him off, harsh and sharp.

Steve makes a little wounded sound before he falls silent, and this time Eddie can't help but look up at him.

Steve looks - he looks like a fucking wreck. His eyes are wet and sad, and he looks like everything that he'd been trying to balance on his shoulders has come crashing down. Eddie wishes he could say with confidence that the guy he knows, the guy he's fallen in love with, is the same guy he's seeing now, is who Steve really is.

Still, Eddie isn't here to purposefully hurt him. Chrissy and Jeff had talked sense into him - he just wants answers.

“I don't think it's fair for you to act like I'm out of line for doubting that,” Eddie says.

Steve crumples like a wet paper bag.

“You're right,” he says, which honestly - Eddie wasn't expecting. “It's not fair, I'm sorry. Of course you'd think that if I was hiding this, what else wasn't I telling the truth about?”

Eddie rolls up the magazine to hide how his hands want to shake, crinkling it with the force of his grip. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Not at first,” Steve admits, lips twisted in a humorless little smile. “This summer, I just - it was nice, spending time with people who had no idea who I was. I thought that would be it, but then the more time I spent with you, the more I fell for you, and by the time I realized I didn't want to let you go, I was afraid. Afraid of your reaction, afraid of what it would mean for us. There's so many people that think they know me as Alistair, and so few that know the real me. I knew, just - even if you didn't hate me, even if you still wanted to be with me, things were going to change. I wouldn't just be Steve anymore.”

“But… you are Alistair. I'm not getting the real you unless I can have both.”

Steve swallows. “Do you want both?”

Eddie blinks at him, a little thrown. “What kind of question is that?”

“Most people want to date Alistair, the pop singer. I haven't had anyone since Nancy who knew me as Steve first, and I - I don't know. I kind of thought it would work the other way, too,” Steve admits. “That you wouldn't want any part of Alistair.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him. “Dude, you keep talking about Steve and Alistair like they're different people. They're both still you, right? I mean, sure, you've got to put on a different front when you're out there with the press and the celebrities, but we all do that a little. You think I act the same way with most customers that I do with you?”

“I - no. Okay, well, I hope not,” Steve adds, just a little bit teasing.

“Definitely not,” Eddie says, giving him the tiniest smile. “So if you're really in this, I want you to be in it. I don't want you to have to hide something so huge from me. I think I deserve the chance to know all of you.”

“Okay,” Steve says softly. “You're right. You're - yeah. If you still want this, if I didn't fuck everything up, then I promise no more secrets.”

Eddie lets out a slow, ragged exhale. Then, “It was real, right?”

“Every bit of it,” Steve says. He inches closer, then when Eddie doesn't stop him, he comes to sit next to him.

“Everything I've told you is true,” Steve says solemnly. “It's okay if you can't believe that yet. I promise I'll work really hard to show you.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Maybe I'm stupid, but I do believe you. There's a lot of things that make sense now.”

Thinking back on it - he doesn't think Steve ever actually directly lied to him, not once. Just by omission.

“Fuck, your dad is even worse than I thought,” Eddie swears. “I assumed you guys had a falling out because he fucked over your friends, but he fucked over you.”

“And my friends,” Steve says. “Jane, Hopper's adopted daughter - she got it the worst. I mean, it was mostly our manager, Brenner, who was the real piece of work, but it's not like my dad gave a shit.”

“Fuck him even more,” Eddie mutters. “Am I allowed to ask what happened? Will I have to sign an NDA or something?”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “No NDAs, and yeah, you can ask. Hopper and Joyce were the ones that uncovered a lot of it, at first, and then Nancy and Jonathan did this massive push and got all the details to leak to the press. They're in investigative journalism half because of how good of a job they did. Robs and I both almost quit music after, but Joyce and Hop knew this guy who was a really good manager, and Murray knew Dimitri who had a small record label, and it just… fell together.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “Hopper's your head of security, isn't he?”

Steve grins. “And the security for Hawkins Hope, but yeah, mostly me and Robin. Jonathan also does most of our pictures for album covers and stuff, and Argyle actually handles our PR.”

Eddie hums. “Wait, why didn't I have to sign an NDA? What if I was secretly a reporter just pretending to be a bartender?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “But you weren't.”

“What if I was?” Eddie insists. “Or, okay, what if it didn't work out and I was the kind of guy who liked petty revenge? What if some shady paparazzi comes up to me and promises a huge pay day if I spill all of the secrets I learned?”

“You wouldn't,” Steve says confidently.

Which, okay, yes, Eddie very much appreciates Steve's trust in him and it kind of makes him feel a little gooey inside, but Eddie's on a roll and he has a point to make.

“I could!” Eddie protests. “What if I was just a huge asshole? What do Hopper and Argyle think of you dating someone without an NDA?”

“I don't think I've ever had anyone mad at me that I didn't ask them to sign an NDA,” Steve says thoughtfully.

“Well clearly you've been dating douchebags,” Eddie grumbles. “You have to look out for yourself more, okay, what if I was just the worst person in the world and - what?”

Steve's smiling at him way too fondly. “I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you,” he says softly.

Eddie's breath catches. “Is that, uh. Is that a confession, or the reason you didn't have me sign an NDA?”

“Both?” Steve admits. “Look, I know it's kind of early, so I'm not expecting -”

“No, fuck that, I'm definitely in love with you,” Eddie cuts in. “I've wanted to say it since the time you called me at work.”

“Oh,” Steve breathes out. “Still?”

“Still.” Eddie makes a little face at himself. “I do trust you, Steve. It might take me a while to get used to everything, but I don't think there's anything I'm going to learn that will change that.”

Steve kisses him, tangling his fingers in Eddie's hair.

“Come to the Christmas gala with me?” he asks.

“Won't the press and stuff be there?” Eddie says.

“Yeah. It's okay if you're not ready for that, but I - I think I'd like to tell people that I have a boyfriend. To introduce you whenever you are ready.”

Eddie considers that. He's honestly not sure he is ready, but - shit, is he ever going to feel ready? “Yeah,” he says. “Jesus, yeah, let's do it.”

“Yeah?” Steve says, his face lighting up.

“Yeah,” Eddie says again. “Just, uh, let me call my uncle and tell him first. Unless - do you want to come with me, tell him together?”

Steve kisses him again. “I'd really like that. We're still in this, still figuring this all out together, right?”

Eddie follows after him for another kiss. “Together,” he agrees.

Yeah, Eddie can handle that. As long as they're together.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #steddie fic #steddie holiday exchange #pop singer steve harrington #bartender eddie munson

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