#the way she's looking at steven in that last one though...

[understandableparadox]

a comprehensive list of everything wrong with hazbin hotel.

quick note before i lose myself in madness, my standards for helluvaboss are non existent because its a free show on youtube. also i kinda like helluvaboss and i will indulge in any bias i damn well please.

oh and spoilers. i guess.

the greater narrative of the entire season is "White lady civilize inner city hoodlum". ex: The blind side. rich girl, affluent family yadda yadda.

the story is set up to be like amphibia, owl house, svtfoe, steven universe, that being starting as something episodic then transforming into story driven narrative. why? because we know the benefits and drawbacks, episodic starts allows us to wander the world, it allows us to understand the dynamics, we are not forced to reckon with anything because there is no deadline. characters are allowed to bloom and shine and the audience can actually get attached.

the source material is Vary Clearly formed from remnants of something out of a middle school edgelord narrative. the usage of transformation, the big spooky grins, the "and then i smile as my eyes glow and-"-isms which in most cases i don't mind because in some instances but in a vary Particular case its astoundingly annoying and that annoyance is like a mold, shit spreads quick.

the color Red. as a lover of homestuck cherubs and karkat and aradia, as someone who fucking loves the color red, it is so painful to say but holy shit tone it the fuck down, i know its hell but their are so many other colors that you can use, its everywhere, the streets, the air, the windows, the screens, the characters, i know the pride ring is represented with red but change up the palates every so often for backgrounds

the rush, this ties into the second point made but i think the story itself is rushed. we know everything way to early. i know way to much and it makes it hard to care about anything because im still trying to digest the last chunk of info. "oh ok, so they clear out hell once a year. oh hell has a heaven embassy? ok. oh that adam the angel, i though he wou- oh its every 6 months now. wait the exterminators die a lot? then why is everyone sca- people in hell already have weapons that can kill angels? w- oh we are in heaven now, ok ma- no one in heaven except for the elites know the exterminations occur? how do-" and its that, just this incessant rush to explain everything to you. notably that's just the god damn spark notes, we need to know everything about the characters now, every single bit of their story, their insecurities, what charlie needs to fix, how she can fix them, the major bad guys, everything. you are never allowed to dwell on a character because we need to rush towards something else. it almost feels like this should have been like... season three, it would have been a fantastic season three if you dropped the introductions honestly.

the concept of redemption. for a story of redemption to work you need to look at three things. What is there crime, Do they want to change, What is preventing them from changeing? there is only one single character that has a notable path of redemption, angel dust, but if you look through their story it feels off. What Exactly is he guilty of? he has sex, does drugs and drinks. his apparent nymphomania is tied to his sad backstory as someone forced into the sex industry so how is that their fault? then if you think about it you start to spiral and notice "hey why are most of these people in hell?" like sure some of them may deserve punishment but then you see the fucking dichotomy and its like "I was a inventor in england and died of the fucking plague, i may have made evil little contraption hoohoohoo" vs "I was a cannibal, a full on cannibal, i fucking killed people and ate them and then someone shot me". ONE OF THESE THINGS ARE A LITTLE MORE FUCKING EXTREME. i'm going to go fucking nuts, the thing they went to heaven with when presenting a case to angels on the idea that redemption and becoming a better person is actually real was angel dust not drinking at a party and not having sex with consenting adults and i want to go fucking insane. WHAT IS THE CRIME, WHO IS THROWING THE BOOK, WHAT DOES THE BOOK INTEL, ARE WE ON GOOD PLACE RULES?! half the cast dont Need redemption they need fucking help, and the other half of the cast do need redemption but they do not seek it making the point moot. sir pentious acts like he has the brain of a hyper intelligent toddler tossing about toys, its almost like he did his one bad thing of spying and then got caught, sank his little diddy about forgiveness and second chances and become a null point through out the rest of the series, sure their was Some weight to him sacrificing himself, he was a decently funny character and he had good moments but him popping up in heaven felt like a fore gone conclusion, he didn't deserve to be in hell so why do i care that he is suddenly in heaven? because its working on the concept the good place already made. no one actually deserves eternal punishment they just need help processing what makes them a dick, but instead of looking at all the parts of the afterlife that make it bad, inefficient and then creating and trying ideas to see if it work instead over a few seasons, we crash dick first into all the major plot points in regards to that and say "tada, we fixed it.".

having a sub-plot about sexual assault and its victims then having multiple sexual assault related gag ruins your point.

don't make a bunch of stereotypically jewish characters into cannibals, that was a big thing, really shouldn't have to say it.

if you are going to make a character black, make them black, you can say alastor was black but sweet seren-fucking-dippity that's not a black man.

pot meet kettle but yeah the cursing could be a little less liberal. maybe just blue hair or the pronouns, not both.

there is a very distinctive art deco/jazz aesthetic which normally i love but i feel as though it is not used to its full extent and in some cases really hurts the character design in and of itself.

this is a vary obvious bit but the story is a million times more interested in gay men then it is of lesbians, which culminates in this insane thing where the writers clearly have more talent or perhaps it would be more abt to say practice writing male gay pining then they are with lesbian pining. which i personally think is hilarious because i did not know you could min max fujoshi-ism that hard.

this next section is more to do with each character on a fundamental level, for the sake of brevity whatever there is left, i'm just doing ones with speaking roles.

13. Charlie:

(see what i mean about that red thing?)

as originally stated charlie fits rather comfortably into every white saviour narrative, though that seems to be part of her joke. though i'm not entirely sure how much of a joke it can be when its rewarded and expected to advance the plot.

her character design says nothing, it has the motif of old puppets or dolls, she wears something vaguely similar to service suits, her demonic form is just some extra horns.not to say every character needs to have their life on a clothes rack but some more snake and goat imagery would be nice

its not the chol design of charlie with snake hair, not an actual problem but its a problem to me, damn you @cholvoq for ruining my ability to look at any of the characters without wishing i was seeing your designs instead.

character wise aside from the white savoir bit, i'm having a bit of trouble understanding what the arc of the character is. she is shown to be naive, someone who doesn't understand how the world works but everytime she says something its something astoundingly clear like "people can actually get better". and its treated like someone demanded faygo in every water fountain. is the joke that the world around her to cynical or is so to naive? please pick one or the other.

now if you know me, you know i fucking hate overpowered characters with a blinding passion, one that would set alit the god damn abyss but in this one special instance, i feel like its warranted, she's the direct descendant of fucking God, she can swing her weight around a little, i mean god damn. she in so many instances looks like shes cowering so often, why would the daughter of lucifer get backed down by some rando pimp? why wasn't she the one to fight adam? sure you can say she is young but how young? her parents were there since pre-abrahamic times, most of the characters showed up in hell in the 1900s, some of them showed up in the 1600s, how old is charlie??? how long does it take for her to learn how to be strong? The story does not suffer if charlie is strong and knows she is strong. it can easily be a case of "i don't believe in violence to a weird degree". fit it into her apparent naivety about the world to believe that violence is never the answer even when dealing with a being that is unilaterally horrible and abusive and monstrous.

she ga- no im kidding, i do think her romance was waysided a bit, it would have been fine to have more scenes of them togather and in love you know?

14. Vaggie

why did you name the lesbian vaggie...? Don't do that maybe?

I like how her design is almost moth like but again i feel as though you could have amped that up.

she feels as though someone tried to combine undyne and pearl from steven universe, same story beats and design elements. it makes it hard to really distinguish her as a character.

i honestly dont have much to say about her. she is fine.

christ kill me, lets just get the big one out of the way

15. Alastor.

God Damn

where to start.

"alastor is mixed race" mixed with fucking what? concrete? there is not a single black feature on that creature, now im not saying you have to make him a png of louie armstrong but it wouldn't hurt to add a curl to the hair maybe? make it a tiny bit more wavy? Something? a crumb i beg of thee?

his symbolism is all over the god damn place, native american monsters (you know the one), voodoo, radio, puppets, stitches, circuses??? and Tentacles i guess. two of those are from closed religions so if you dumped those you would actually get a more concise character focused on the concept of vox populi as a means of societal control and influence as we see in his first song. but again that gets drowned out repeatedly by all the other random toy box bits shoved into him.

tumblr sexy man bait

he serves no purpose in the story. he does spooky stuff, pretends to do things and then goes back to sitting around looking spooky. i understand that his motif is supposed to be aloof mastermind but maybe have him do more mastermindy things? if you remove most of alastors scenes, bar the songs, it doesn't change all to much. husk and nifity can still be at the hotel, they could be looking for outs in their contracts the same as angel dust. hell it even helps with the one scene where he dose some spooky shit, asking charlie for a favor in exchange for his help in the fight with the angels instead of asking him about angel weapons which should have remained a strictly vaggie scene.

his presence in a way delegitimize the story, as I noted in in the section regarding redemption, the three parts are "what is the crime, do they want to change, what is stopping them?" and alastor kinda just spits in the face of that. he is a serial killer cannibal that has no qualms about how evil he is and apparently must continue being evil due to being under the control under someone legitimately called the Root Of All Evil. show him take a slight interest in the idea that maybe shit for him could be better, make him Want Change at the bare fucking minimum or dont have him at the hotel.

his stupid little fucking horns, big shot the troll liker wants characters to have big fucking horns, make them noticeable or dont have them.

he looks more like a dog boy, which could have been an interesting thing with the collar motif but fuck me i guess.

personal pet peeve but i fucking hate characters that have a million plus powers, stick to a set number, be creative.

im getting more petty as i go on so last point: he could have been in less episodes, he didn't need to be in dad beat dad, that should have been just a lucifer and charlie episode. inverse the red and black and i think he would be fucking great color wise, his body type is the same as ten different characters, he isnt radio enough, aside from the voice and and staff if you told me he was the fucking Cat Demon i would have been just as convinced.

16. Angel Dust

what the fuck, gay spider? its hard to actully articulate all the thoughts i have on angel dust, not in the sense that he is a deeply thought provoking character but in the fact that there is not much meat on the bones.

all around i think angel dust is kinda middling. he has a decent enough romance with husk, he has a decent enough story line that revolves around battling addiction and removing yourself from an abuser (which the story tries to brand as "Redemption???")

I dont like that most of his jokes would qualify as sexual harassment, i don't mind him being sexual as a character but continuing on when clearly someone doesn't like the jokes hurts the character.

not a critique but he is pink, which honestly ill fucking take at point, as long as its not more fucking red.

i think his design is an improvement over some of the old vivzie designs but it feels like it could have done with going a few more rounds of design changes.

same thing with alastor, charlie and vaggie, there is not enough of the animal that they are supposed to be. You could have told me angel dust was a fucking bee or something and i would have had to believe you. nothing about angel dust initially says spider, hell he dosent even have enough limps to be a fucking spider.

17. Carmilla carmine

are... are you supposed to be a rabbit...?

Big Yoai Hands

ballet fighting style, could have been cool, wish she fought more like sanji or chun li.

A single mom that works to hard, who loves her kids and never stops-

her song was decent, not great, decent. it feels as though the actress has experience singing but not in the way they tried to make her sing during her two songs. they have a obvious mexican influence, honestly just let her sing in spanish in the english dub. go listen to the spanish dub, "out for love" sounds great in spanish.

i wish i had more thoughts on them, fucking rip.

18. cherri bomb

that's not a punk aesthetic that's 2010s alt

decent character, they showed up once or twice i guess, no real thoughts.

19. egg boiz

absolutely perfect, i have not notes on them, these are perfect creatures.

20. Emily

im so fucking happy to see a singular blue character

does the naive dreamer bit better then charlie

We really shouldnt have seen her until the end of season two or middle of three.

good contrast with the other angels on screen.

Wait she is supposed to be black??? Where???

21. Husk

keith david you absolute delight, Why on gods green earth did they only give you one singing part?

one of the few charecters where its clear husk is a cat, i do like the kinda... marquee design, he is a magic cat, thats neat. i still think you can toss the wings and eyebrows and still have just as good of a charecter.

has a deeply intresting story of someone who died as a nobody, became the fat cat of hell and then was forced back to the bottom by their own vices, not used at fucking all.

huge potential, little pay off.

22. lillith

I know nothing about her except she ditched her kid and husband to vacation in heaven and i think thats kinda funny.

alot of werid things floating around her, again she shouldnt have been shown in the show at all until next season.

23. lucifer morningstar

no notes, funniest charecter, did a song based on friend like me.

few notes: i do like the idea that the immortal symbol of pride is a constant emotional wreckage constantly seeking approval through grand showmanship and manic energy that threatens to take over anything they touch.

would have liked more snake stuff on him, maybe some more goat things like horns.

that is such a stupid fucking staff lmao.

24. Adam.

alex brightman you absolute fucking delight, you should have had more songs.

I wish his design was more focused on the idea of him being a glam rock wash up

I fucking hate his mask

We shouldn't have met him until the end of the season.

25. Niffty

again she is supposed to be a bug or cockroach but nothing about her points to that.

token straight

keeps rocketing back and fourth between sexulization and infantilization

you had kimiko glenn but didnt give her a single fucking song?

26. Sir Pentious

the secret season one redeemed.

the pilot version of him felt more like someone that could do a season one redemption arc, a megalomaniac constantly attempting territory grabs, there is something you can work with, actual character flaws to work through.

essentially a child after the first episode.

actually a snake which i appreciate.

no where near steampunky enough.

27. the villians of the show dont make much sense, each one feels like they should be season long deals on their own instead of a bunch of team rocket esque idiots that show up on occasion, do a bad thing and then leave.

28. Valentino

gOD THERE IS SO MUCH RED

only a moth some of the time.

sucks as a villain, maybe they need more screen time to show why they suck in a more substantial way aside from being told that he sucks.

it is interesting that angel dust is only under his magical control when in the studio, it shows that angel dust has to make a conscious choice to return, which in turn can be made to show how abusers can draw back their victims. I do not think it was done well in this circumstance as it shows him to be cartoonishly evil, constantly flying back and fourth between sweet and utter psycho, there is no actual reason for angel dust to ever actually go back to the studio, he just does so every so often.

29. Vox

legit who cares? the only thing about him that is in any way substantial is all the dope ass fan art we get.

propaganda machine angle that is not explored at all, just hinted at. no actual barring on the story whatsoever.

why didn't he try to do the same shit as alastor by the way? he knows its bad if alastor gets in good with charlie so shouldn't it be a ass kissing race?

same body shape as literally every other male character.

tumblr sexy man version of pyrocynicals fursona.

30. Valvette

the actual poster child of the shows huge problem of "Show me, don't tell me".

apparently the glue that holds the villains together. never shown.

apparently the one that makes the love potions that valentino is famous for. had to learn about that in the fuckin wiki trivias

we know so much about her from things outside of the show.

was there to call carmilla a coward, that's her plot contribution. she shows up every now and again but its never anything substantial and serves to more around take up run time for people We Don't Need To Know Yet.

im not trying to be mean, animation is animation, we need smaller studios to have success in the industry so that other indie studios can have that success, felling a tree makes it easier for others to follow. showing that its possible to number brain rot exacs helps all animators.

but this show has so much bullshit attached to it, it has so much fucking potential that it fries my brain with unyielding frustration.

this took a bit to write, im tired, thanks for reading.

#hazbin hotel

[thelostmagicians]

Booksmart | Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve Harrington’s head may be full of air, but his heart is full of love. [4.4k]

Fluff, comfort, slight angst, insecure Steve

♡

Steve Harrington isn’t a genius. He barely passed his classes in high school, couldn’t get into college, and can barely keep his minimum wage job. He’s been belittled by his parents too many times to care about their opinion and he knows compared to his friends he isn’t as clever or witty, but he’s okay with it - at least he thinks he is. It might sting when Robin and Eddie tease him for being too slow or when Dustin sighs in frustration because he can’t keep up, but the ache dissipates when they look at him in adoration. 

He blames his failing love life on his lack of intelligence. Although girls find his himbo-ness endearing, his relationships never last long.  Most of the dates he goes on end up as dirty hookups in the backseat of his car and on the off chance a girl stays longer than a month he can slowly see the irritation replace the endearment in her eyes. He was just something to do during the inbetween phase of graduation and moving out of Hawkins, a trophy to conquer - to finally have slept with the previously known King. He used to be okay with that at the beginning, he got his needs met while girls crossed him off their list, but over time he craved more. He saw how Nancy looked at Jonathan, how Joyce laughed with Hopper, and how Robin blushed around Vickie. He was desperate for that feeling of being wanted and loved. 

Even though he's surrounded by people who love and accept him as he is, he can't help but wonder if things would’ve been different if he was just a little smarter. 

_

“Robin I’m telling you she started speaking a different language halfway through dinner,” Steve grumbles as he’s shelving the horror section. 

Robin rolls her eyes at him, “Just because you don’t understand the words she’s using doesn’t mean she was speaking a different language, Steven. I don’t even think she knows anything but English. 

Steve sighs under his breath. 

He had gone on another date last night, but didn’t even make it past the appetizers before he made up an emergency and left. The night started off great, the Indiana summer evening had a cool breeze, he opened the door for her, and was rewarded with a kiss on his cheek when he presented her with  flowers. Valerie had been nice, beautiful, and smart - maybe a little too smart for Steve. Don’t get him wrong, Steve loves strong, smart, and capable women. He loved hearing Valerie speak about physics and graphing linear equations, he loved learning about what interested her, but as the night went on he could see the light in her eyes fading as he kept asking her questions. The final straw had been when he told her he hasn’t read a book since high school and she laughed lightly before saying “you really are only a pretty face.” 

“Maybe, I’m just destined to be alone, or like a back up plan for girls who come back to Hawkins after giving up on their big city dreams.”

Robin sighs and gives him a reassuring pat, “Steve, you’re a good man. You’ll find your one, trust me on this.”

Before he can say more the bell jingles as a gust of hot air is let in. Steve groans as he spots Dustin’s mop of curly hair and hears the chatter of 6 other teens. He holds the door open with his arm as he sees Lucas struggling with Max’s wheelchair. 

“You guys can’t keep coming in here, Robin and I actually have work to do you know.”

“We wanted to pick a movie for movie night,” Max says. 

He sighs softly as he meets her eyes. Steve’s always had a soft spot for Max ever since they’ve met and it’s only gotten softer since then, everyone knows this, but the kids tend to take advantage of this and use Max to get their way. 

“Alright two movies max and no rated r ones.”

As he hears the bell jingle again he starts his greeting in a monotone voice, “Welcome to Family Video, my name is St—” he chokes. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you ask softly. 

He’s still coughing and panting slightly as he tries to give you a reassuring nod. Robin makes her way to the front to hand Steve some water and finish introductions. 

“What he means to say is his name is Steve and I’m Robin. You can come get us if you have any questions.”

You nod politely, finally tearing your gaze away from Steve as you start browsing through the racks. Steve, however, can’t seem to stop looking at you. He’s seen a lot of beautiful women in his life, but none of them held a candle to you. Everything about you was just perfect to him and he didn’t even know you yet. His eyes repeatedly traced the slope of your nose, down to your plush lips, and back to your furrowed eyebrows as you read the back of a tape. 

You lift your head up and he blushes as you make eye contact. 

“Do you have any recommendations for sci-fi, I just moved to town and need something to keep me from getting bored?” you ask shyly. 

“Err- We have a sci-fi section over there” Steve points to the rack behind him where the kids are gathered and quietly arguing over which movie to pick. 

You speak as you make your way over, “Yeah, but do you have any recommendations for me? I feel like I’ve seen all the good ones already.”

Steve's face falls as he tries to come up with an answer. 

“Have you seen Star Wars?” Dustin speaks up

Max and El groan loudly as you shake your head. 

“I tend to stay away from franchises, but what’s it about?”

Before Dustin can answer, Mike beats him to it, “It’s about galactic adventures of these characters, it’s pretty cool.”

“We were planning on watching it tonight, we always have movie nights at Steve’s on Friday. You should join us!” Dustin exclaims as he tries to shoot Steve a sly wink. 

Your eyes grow wide at the sudden invitation as Steve rests his head in his hands too embarrassed to speak. 

“Is that alright with you, Steve?” You ask kindly. 

Steve’s breath hitches as he hears you say his name, he slowly meets your gaze as he gives you a slight nod trying to avoid choking on air again.

Robin smirks at Steve as she hands you a post-it, “Here’s Steve’s address. Movie starts at 7 and bring as many snacks as you’d like!”

You grab the post-it and shoot everyone a small wave “I’ll see you guys then!”

Steve feels like he can finally breathe after he hears the soft slam of the door behind you. 

_

“I can’t believe you would do that, just invite a stranger to my home like that,” Steve groans as he fixes his hair, again, in the hallway mirror. He glances down at his polo debating if he should change his shirt for the fourth time. 

“Steve, she agreed to come while seeing you in a Family Video vest, I don’t think your outfit is what you should be worried about,” Jonathan teases him as he passes him a coke. 

Steve shoots him a sarcastic smile before checking his watch. It’s 7:02, you should’ve shown up 2 minutes ago and he’s a nervous wreck. He sees your headlights before anyone else does and trips over Will’s backpack as he waits to open the door on the very first knock. 

“Sorry I’m late, the petit fours took longer than expected.” You smile at him holding out a large container filled with small cakes. 

He gives you a confused look too embarrassed to ask what petit fours are, so instead he takes the container and waves you in. 

“What brings you to Hawkins?” Eddie asks.

“I actually came here for work, Hawkins laboratory needed another scientist to look at all the crazy stuff that’s happened here.”

Everyone basks in the uncomfortable silence as you mention the lab before Nancy speaks up, “You work as a scientist? You seem pretty young.”

You hesitate slightly, folding your hands in your lap, “I am young, but I graduated college at 16 and recently got my PhD and my advisor recommended me for this job, so here I am.”

Steve’s heart falls to his stomach, you were a genius, a child prodigy of some sort and you’ve accomplished so much at such a young age. There was no way you would even be slightly interested in him, but part of him was willing to take that risk - be okay with whatever you spared him because it was better than not having you in his life at all. 

The movie is ignored as everyone pays more attention to you and your genius-ness. He hears voices all at once but all he can focus on is yours. The way your laugh ends in a higher pitch than it starts in, the way you softly reassure Nancy that college isn’t hard, but his favorite is when you say his name when you ask for his opinion on the theories the kids present to you. It makes him feel important like you care about what he has to say and you value his thoughts just as much as you would anyone else’s. 

Steve might’ve only met you today, but he was already enamored. You might’ve knowingly opened the door only to Family Video, but you also unknowingly opened the door to his heart and started to fill every corner of it with you. 

_

Steve doesn’t think he’s read this much in his entire existence as he has this month.

The first thing he did the morning after movie night was go to the library and check out as many books as he could about everything that sounded smart. He’s inhaled almost every book on poetry (specifically Shakespeare), astrophysics and European history. You’ve come to every movie night since the first one and you try your best to visit Family Video after work just to chat with Steve and Robin. He was slowly falling in love with you and he wasn’t going to let his dumb brain be the reason he lost you. He forcefully read every book from cover to cover, prying his eyes open with the memory of your impressed smile anytime he fell asleep. He’s made countless flashcards and pesters Robin to quiz them during their shift. 

After two months of revising and memorizing he thinks he finally finds the courage to ask you out. You’re the last one to leave tonight, helping Steve clean up after everyone either left or claimed a spare room. 

Steve’s hands are clammy as he ties the trash bag into a pretty bow, “I was wondering if… I mean you don’t have to… but umm, like if you wanted to go out. With me, I mean.”

Your eyes trace his face as you clench the empty red vines wrapper, “You mean like a date?”

Steve nods, unsure of your reaction. Part of him hopes you’ll say no and put him out of his misery, so he can finally stop learning, but a bigger part of him hopes you’ll give him a chance. 

Your lips upturn in a shy smile as you fiddle your thumbs, “Yeah, I’d like that a lot. What did you have in mind?”

“How about next Friday, we ditch the losers and have our movie night? I’ll pick you up at 7 and we can catch a movie?”

You respond with a quick kiss on his cheek as you grab your purse and head out. Steve rests his head on the back of the door as he pumps his fist in the air and tries his hardest to not  wake Robin and Eddie with his cheering. 

_

You’re nervous as you pace in front of your door. Steve makes you nervous, but you don’t hate the feeling. You’ve never felt this way about a boy before, boys always had a competition with you, a majority of your dates ended up with the two of you trying to up each other with accomplishments, but with Steve everything is different. Even though the facts he tells are wrong, it was still endearing to watch him try. 

You’re broken out of your thoughts with a knock on your door. You smooth down your dress and look in the mirror once more before swinging the door open. Steve stands there in all his glory, hair perfectly done, snug jeans, and a bouquet of flowers covering his stupidly handsome face. 

“These are for you,” he pushes the bouquet towards you with a surprise force that you have to step back to avoid them pressing into your nose. 

“Thanks Steve, they’re beautiful.” You set them down gently at the nearby table mentally making a note to find a vase after you come back home. 

He opens his car door for you, waiting until you’re settled in before jogging back to his side. “There’s a French movie playing tonight, I think it’s about Marie - Annette, you know the queen who liked cake?” 

You giggle quietly but opt to ignore his mistake because he just looked too fucking cute with furrowed eyebrows and a nervous smile. 

“And after the movie I was thinking we can stop by somewhere for a late night snack?”

You nod excitedly eager to finally spend time with him far away from the eyes of your prying friends, “I didn’t know you knew French?”

“Uh, yeah.”

The movie was… boring and bland. Steve didn’t understand anything happening so instead spent the entire time admiring you, the furrow of your eyebrows, the tilt of your head, and the gentle bite of your lip. He remembered you mentioning to Robin that you were fluent in French, so thought a foreign film would be a good idea for a first date, but now he regrets his choice especially since you spent the drive to the diner asking him questions about the movie. Questions he didn’t know the answer to. Steve has charmed his way through life, but he wasn’t sure how much longer his charm would last with you, he had an inkling that sooner or later you would be able to see through his facade and you would see him as a disappointment.

_

You had a hunch that Steve was lying about knowing French and your hunch was confirmed when his shoulders tensed as the ticket guy told him the movie didn’t have English subtitles. He played it off with a laugh and a wave of his hand, but you could tell it made him nervous. You thought the movie was alright, but your favorite part was feeling Steve’s eyes on you. You try to be mindful when asking him questions, keeping them vague and more about opinions rather than asking him questions that have a right or wrong answer. He responds as vaguely as possible, gauging your reaction to see if you’re pleased with his answer or if he needs to backtrack and fix his opinion. 

Your conversation at the diner starts to get more personal as you ask each other about your likes and dislikes. You learn that Steve broke his arm learning to ride a bike, his favorite color is green, and he’s always wanted a dog. Everything you learn about Steve just makes you like him even more and the potential of falling in love with him makes you giddy with happiness. Your hands brush occasionally as you walk back to his car. He bites his lip hesitating to grab your hand as he peeks at you from the corner of his eye. You make the decision for the both of you and take a hold of his hand swinging both your arms as he blushes. 

“You’re really cute Steve Harrington,” you say as you force him to face you before gently pushing your lips to his. 

_

You spend every free time you have with Steve now. It’s been a month since your first date and since then you’ve gone out plenty of times and if you’re not physically together then you’re talking for hours on the phone. Steve’s able to open up to you more than he has to anyone else and it’s only been a few months of knowing you but he knows he’s in love, yet he can’t ask you to be his girlfriend. He does everything a boyfriend should do, calling you during breaks, kissing your bad days away, and hugging you just right when you’re on the verge of tears, but he still can’t find the courage to ask you to be his, officially. 

You express your concern to Nancy and Robin at an impromptu girls night, thrown together after a rough week for all of you. 

“I just don’t know why he won’t ask me, I always want to ask him myself before I see him, but then I lose my nerve. Maybe he doesn’t even like me like that and I’m just reading into things,” you whine as you smear a homemade face mask on Robin's face. 

“Trust me, Steve is a goner for you,” Nancy replies as she squints to make sure her brushes on the nail polish perfectly. 

“Nance is right, Steve is in love with you, but you just make him nervous.”

“I don’t understand why though, how do I make him nervous when he’s Steve Harrington,” you sigh dreamily. 

Nancy and Robin giggle as they see the childish frown on your face. You push your face into a pillow whining into it like a petulant child. 

Nancy rubs your back gently, “Look it’s not my place to say, but Steve isn’t the smartest tool academically. And you’re this child prodigy and that makes him nervous.”

Robin nods in agreement, “Yeah, you do know he spent months reading all sorts of books just to impress you right? He isn’t actually as smart as he pretends to be. He just memorizes a bunch of stuff the days leading up to your date.”

You huff in annoyance, “Yeah, I knew that on our first date when he took me to that French film. But I don’t love him because he can tell me facts about the mesozoic era. I love him because he’s him.”

Nancy and Robin share a knowing look.

“You love him?” Robin whispers.

“What?”

“You just said you love him,” Nancy clarifies.

You breathe in deeply before letting it out, the weight of what you said finally sinking in. “Yeah, I do. I really do.”

Both girls squeal as they pull you into a hug, face masks and nail polish quickly forgotten. 

You fall asleep that night knowing the next time you see Steve you’ll tell him. Tell him how much you love him and how he means to you.

_

Unfortunately for you and Steve, you aren’t able to spend any time alone lately. Work is crazy for the both of you and any time you have off it’s spent with the group. While you love spending time with your friends, you’re dying for a second alone with Steve. A second that only you both can cherish when you finally tell him how you feel. 

You’re hoping you can finally catch a moment alone with Steve at the summer bonfire by Lover’s Lake. Almost every young adult in Hawkins comes out of hiding for this annual bonfire, usually thrown by college kids as a final hurrah before summer break is officially over. You hung out with Nancy and Robin for a while and meet some new people, but you’re aren’t able to find the one person you want to see. You finally spot him parking his car and hurriedly shoving his family video vest in the trunk, but before you call out to him you’re blocked by a freckled boy wearing a smug smile. 

“Well if it isn’t the new genius of Hawkins,” the boy teases, voice filled with malice.

You smile politely, “I’m sorry you’re–”

“I’m Hagan. Tommy Hagan, surprised Steve hasn’t mentioned me considering we used to be the best of friends before he became a loser.”

You’ve heard about Tommy, mostly through passing from Nancy and Jonathan and based on Steve’s disgruntled face every time his name was mentioned, you decided Tommy Hagan wasn’t worth your time. 

“How can I help you?” You ask in a monotone voice to show how disinterested you are. 

Before Tommy can start you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist and lips brush against the side of your head. You turn to see Steve’s grimace at Tommy before his eyes soften landing on you. 

“Hi hon,” he whispers gently, his left arm moving from caressing your hip to soothing the ache in your shoulder. 

“Hey baby.” For a second it’s just the two of you lost in each other’s eyes, you wonder if everyone else can see how lovesick you are for Steve. Before you can whisk him away for yourself Tommy interrupts again.

“Damn, Harrington. Didn’t think I’d see you go all soft again after what Wheeler did to you.”

You rolled your eyes at the mention of Nancy. It’s been years, both Steve and Nancy were over it, being happy for each other and supporting each other as friends. Yet everyone still brought it up because they had no other dirt on Steve. 

“Didn’t know you were home for the summer Tommy,” Steve replies ready to end the conversation with his former friend. 

At this point you see Jonathan and Eddie glancing from their spot near the fire. Both of them looking at Steve, silently asking him if he needed them. Steve shakes his head at them and squeezes your shoulder readying to lead you away. 

“Yeah, summer is the only time I have off now. Between college and my internship. It’s hard out there man, but you wouldn’t know that, would you?” Tommy smirks knowingly as he pushes Steve’s buttons. He knows college has always been a sore spot for Steve especially since he was still stuck working at Family Video. 

Steve grunts in response hoping his disinterest is enough to stray Tommy away from the both of you, but with Steve’s luck Tommy turns his attention to you. 

“Surprised he can keep up with a genius like you sweetheart.”

You wrinkled your nose in disgust, the term of endearment turning sour coming from a mouth other than Steve’s.

Tommy continues to go on, swaying from the few too many drinks he’s had. “Did he tell you he barely passed high school? His dad complained to mine about how much of a disappointment he turned out to be. Can’t even get a job at his dad’s firm with the brain he has.”

Steve loosens his grip around your shoulder, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. 

“You’re telling me your girl hasn’t caught on to the kind of screw up you are Harrington? You sure she’s a genius, or maybe you found someone that aligns with your IQ.”

At this point everyone is watching the words fly out of Tommy’s mouth, some snickering others shooting Steve looks of pity. Tommy Hagan is ripping him to shreds in front of everyone and yet all he can focus on is you. A look of disappointment mixed with frustration glazing over your otherwise sweet disposition. He sees his friends pushing their way through the crowd but before they could defend him he hears your honey like voice calling out for Tommy. 

“What university did you say you go to, Tommy?” you ask sweetly.

“Indiana University of Business,” he smirks behind his beer.

“And I’m assuming your daddy paid for it? Cause you sure as hell didn’t get into school by your merit, considering you spent most of high school with your head so far up people’s asses that you couldn’t get enough oxygen to your brain. Hence, why you and your stupid ass are still playing into high school politics at your grown ass age.”

The smugness on Tommy’s face disappears. 

“And what do you want to do with your future Tommy? Join daddy’s business? Turn out exactly like him? Cause last I heard he spends more time with his new family than he does with you. Maybe he finally got a child he actually loves.”

You knew it was a low blow, bringing up Tommy’s family issues, but you couldn’t care less. After everything he said to Steve, he had it coming and you only wish you were around in high school so you could’ve put him in his place earlier. 

You heard a low whistle from Eddie, “Well guess the shows over folks. And looks like we have a clear winner.”

People start clearing out going back to mind their own business and you grab Steve’s arm leading him far away from Tommy’s frozen stance. 

“Guess the secret’s out,” Steve mumbles.

“Huh?”

“Now you know I’m not really smart, so..” he trails off.

You smile, arms twisting around his waist pulling him close. “You know, I’ve met a lot of smart people in my life, but don't you dare, even for a second take Tommy’s words to heart. Because I know you, and I know that you’re the greatest person I’ve ever met.”

Steve pinches your chin, holding your gaze before whispering out a shy “yeah?” 

You hear the insecurity laced in his voice as you nod fervently. “I kinda figured you weren’t as smart as you let on from our first date, but I said yes because even though you aren’t a brainiac you have a heart of gold. I see the way you take care of the kids, how you take care of your friends. And I love how you take care of me. I love you and everything about you, Steve Harrington.”

Steve blushes, his cheeks turn a rosy hue as he grabs your waist pressing his lips to yours in a kiss so sweet you think you’ll get a toothache. 

“You really love me?”

“I really do.”

Steve presses another kiss before murmuring out an I love you against your lips.

Yeah, Steve Harrington is stupid. Stupidly in love with you. 

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #st4 spoilers #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #stranger things #stranger things spoilers #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington angst #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic recs #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington masterlist #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington recs #steve harrington series #steve harrington thoughts #simon-writes #simon-writes-steve #sh

[probably-writing-x]

Fault.

Summary: you’re an incredible writer!!! could you write conrad x reader where she is belly’s best friend and goes with them to cousins for the summers, and she tries really hard to not like conrad because belly does but he likes her back and they start secretly hooking up/dating? hell maybe even throw in that jeremiah likes her too 😂 and everyone finds out somehow, i live for the messy drama 😝

Warnings: Sexual references and innuendos, 18+ DNI

Cousins had been a part of your childhood like it had been for Belly. You’d met her in kindergarten and been inseparable ever since, so you were practically the third sibling to her and Steven. You spent countless summer days with them, then came home with Belly and spent the rest of the year counting down until next summer would come around.

When you were young, it was just fun and sun and summer and Belly’s undying crush on the older brother. Not too much of that had changed as you’d grown up now - but perhaps you’d changed.

You weren’t sure when it had changed. But, one summer, it was like you looked at that older brother and saw what Belly was on about this whole time. You didn’t see him in the same infatuating way that she did, but you couldn’t deny any longer that he was attractive. There was just something in those eyes, the sort of half smile he gave you, the way his words just rolled off his tongue so smoothly. You couldn’t help it.

Once you’d came to that realisation, perhaps two summers ago, you’d done your best to completely suppress it. You ignored it. You ignored him. You avoided being alone with him, brought up Belly whenever you felt like the conversation might be shifting. You did everything in your power to stop yourself from ever feeling that way about Conrad. It wasn’t that you didn’t want something to happen - but breaking your own heart would be better than breaking your best friend’s.

But those damn eyes…

———

“It feels weird doing this drive myself,” You point out, indicating into the last street that would lead you into Cousins, “I’m used to your Mom complaining that we’re too loud.”

Belly laughs in the passenger seat, “Now you’ve just got Steven complaining.”

You glance in your rear view mirror to where Steven was resting against the window with his eyes closed, “Shut up.”

“Come on Stevie, we’re almost there,” You taunt, turning once again into the final road to the Fisher-Beck household.

Laurel hadn’t driven you this year, she had some fancy author thing to attend so she’d be meeting you next week. Belly couldn’t wait to come to Cousins, however, so you’d offered to drive the three of you.

When you pull up into the driveway, it’s like every bit of summer ignites - the start of a million memories.

Almost instantly, the door opens and Jeremiah comes hurrying out.

“Thank god you’re here!”

He opens the driver’s side door of your car and sticks his head in, grinning widely at the three of you.

“Good to see you too, Jere,” You laugh, stepping out of your seat to hug him.

He smells like mint and limes.

“We’ve got so much to catch up on,” Jeremiah comments, hurrying around to hug Belly too as Steven drags himself out of the car.

You laugh and ruffle his hair, much to his disgust, at the same moment that the front door swings open again and the other brother steps out, squinting a little at the sun. He’s wearing a navy t-shirt and grey shorts, dragging a hand through his messy hair. He jogs down the few steps from the front door and makes his way over.

“Hey!” You clear your throat, swinging your keys in your hand.

Conrad looks at you and smiles lightly, the sort that meets his eyes in a brief moment, “How was the drive?”

You shrug, “Mostly okay, I still hate all these country roads though.”

He laughs, looking down at his feet, “Yeah, I know you do. You’ll get used to it.”

You nod and both of you fall silent for a moment.

“So do you-“

“Did you-“

You both look at each other and laugh.

“You first,” He gestures towards you, stuffing his hands into his pockets soon after.

“No, um,” You shake your head, “I was just going to ask if you have plans tonight. Someone at the gas station told us there’s a drive in movie. We were thinking we could all go.”

Conrad nods, “If it’s a musical I’m not going.”

“Deal.”

You turn back to the rest of the group as Steven and Belly are grabbing bags from the trunk.

“Oh it’s so good to see you all!” Beams Susannah as you all trail inside.

She wraps Steven in a hug, does the same to Belly and then comes over to you, squeezing you tightly.

The house is no different but it always feels brighter at the start of summer, like it’s welcoming you back. You breathe it in for a second, a sigh of relief at your return.

“Alright, get settled into your rooms and everything and I’ll make us up some lunch,” Susannah encourages.

You follow behind Belly towards the room that the two of you shared, walking past the ajar door to Conrad’s room. You ignore the fluttering in your chest.

“God it’s good to be back,” Belly grins, dropping down onto the mattress and spreading out her arms.

“Yeah, it feels like forever since we’ve been here,” You nod, setting your suitcase down onto the floor and sitting yourself on the edge of the bed beside her.

She reaches over and grabs Junior Mint, setting him down on the mattress.

“I still remember when Conrad got me this,” She mumbles, brushing her thumb over the white fur.

“At the boardwalk right?” You comment, “It was that day I was sick.”

She hums in response.

You remembered that day too. Conrad had come home with a toy giraffe stuffed in his bag and told you it was meant to make you feel better. He hadn’t won it, but he paid someone else for it. You’d kept it in your suitcase until you got home - knowing it wasn’t worth upsetting Belly over. And, to this day, on the same mattress sat the same toy you’d had for all those years.

“I don’t get him these days,” Belly shakes her head, “Sometimes I’m so sure he feels the same way about me and then other times… it’s like his heart is somewhere else.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, “That’s all guys for you.”

“Not Jeremiah,” Belly laughs, “He’s been in love with you since I first brought you here.”

You laugh too, “I don’t know where you get that impression from.”

She scoffs, “You’re just blind, (Y/n).”

Belly looks up at you from where she lay and smiles, hugging the polar bear close to her chest. You smile back and ignore the slight tightness in your chest at being back here this summer - being back with the boy that your heart just seemed to pull to.

———

That night, you all start heading out to the drive in.

“Okay I’m just saying we’re not all sitting in one car to watch this movie,” Steven points out, “We won’t be able to see anything in the back.”

“You’re so dramatic, you’ll fall asleep halfway through anyway,” You roll your eyes, tugging your shoes on at the door, “I can just take my car too if it’s that big of a deal.”

Jeremiah, Belly and Steven all make their way outside, fighting over who will get shotgun in Jere’s car.

You glance back and see Conrad eventually coming down the stairs.

“Where are the others?” He frowns, grabbing his shoes and pulling them on.

“Um,” You clear your throat, “They’ve gone already, they’re going in Jere’s car, we’re taking mine.”

He nods, “I’ll drive.”

With that, he stretches out a hand to take your keys and you oblige, following behind him to where your car sat in the driveway.

Every so often, you could convince yourself that Conrad might ever feel the same way about you. It was in the little things. The glances, the comments, the smile. You could convince that small part of yourself that he was waiting for you as much as you were waiting for him. But it disappeared quickly.

But, now, seeing him behind the wheel of your car, humming along to the song playing through the radio, it felt like this could be something. You weren’t sure why. It was just a feeling.

———

By the time you get to the drive-in, it’s packed out. Conrad drives around the back and pulls into a space, nowhere near to Jere and the others.

“We can go and find them if you want,” You offer, glancing out of the window.

Conrad shrugs, “I like the peace and quiet without them.”

You laugh, “Just us then.”

The film starts and both of you sit in relative silence. You shift in your seat and cross your legs beneath you, leaning back against the chair. There’s a couple in the car beside you and your eyes drift over to them - how he sits with her head against his shoulder, his arm around her, looking down like she’s the only person in the world. You’d never had that with someone. Not that you hadn’t wanted to, or options hadn’t been there, but it just was never right for you.

And then your eyes turn back to Conrad. The light of the film catches against his skin, glowing his eyes just a little. It shadows down his jaw, darkening his jawline and brushing over the muscles. You take a deep breath. Ignore it. It wasn’t worth it.

He turns his head to look at you and you quickly look away.

“(Y/n)…”

“I’m going to grab a drink,” You say quickly, rushing to open the passenger door and scrambling out.

As soon as you’re outside, you gasp at the air like you hadn’t taken a single breath beside him. Like he’d taken them all away.

Ignore it. It wasn’t worth it.

———

“Oh my god this storm is awful,” You hiss into the air between you and Belly, snuggling under the covers of the double bed that you shared.

It was the following day and a storm had started to sweep over Cousins. There was a chill in the air all day and it had now turned into a full blown storm in the middle of the night. The rain was hammering down, wind sweeping over the houses, and thunder claps every few minutes.

“Belly,” You hiss again, “You awake?”

You’re met with the balanced, shallow breaths beside you that tell you she’s not hearing you. You sigh and shift in the bed until you’re sat on the mattress, debating your options. Sleep wouldn’t welcome you when the weather was like this. It wasn’t that you were scared of storms, they just unnerved you. Okay, you hated them.

With another clap of thunder, you step out of the bed and pull a hoodie over the crop top and shorts you’d been wearing, padding through the silent house and down the creaking steps. You wince with the creak on each one until you’re finally downstairs, stepping through into the kitchen.

“(Y/n)?” A voice speaks softly into the dark voice and you flinch instantly, spinning on your heel.

It’s Conrad.

“Con?” You frown, “Why are you awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” He returns.

He’s wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a forest green t-shirt. He looks cosy and innocent.

“Yeah, I just… uh-“

“You hate storms.”

You feel your cheeks heat at his words, looking down at your feet as if he’s just embarrassed you in front of no company at all.

“Come on,” He gestures with his head, his hands stuffed into his pockets, “I’m going to start the fire.”

You follow him through into the lounge and sit down on the floor beside him as he starts fixing up the fire. You hand over logs and he sets them in place, you hand over the matches and he scratches them against the box to set it alight, holding it against the paper until it ignites. The heat hits you almost instantly in the too-cold house, wrapping you in an embrace of crackling warmth.

At the same moment, another rumble of thunder sounds from outside and you visibly flinch, glancing quickly out of the window at the hammering rain. Conrad chuckles from beside you, only quietly.

“Don’t worry, we’ve had worse storms here,” He assures you.

“That doesn’t help,” You roll your eyes, drawing your knees up to your chest.

“Oh, come on, I promise it’s okay,” He nudges your shoulder, “Nothing’s going to happen.”

“Conrad Fisher are you going soft on me?” You narrow your eyes at him, “You’re normally so blunt.”

He looks away with a smile on his lips, “For everyone else, maybe.”

You feel your breath catch in your throat, the words escaping you. There was just something about the way he looked at you, the way his eyes just melt into you.

“You know I-“ He stops himself, taking a deep breath, “I kind of felt like things were different with us this summer.”

“D- different?”

“Don’t you?” He says, “I just feel like you’ve been… distant?”

You stop yourself from speaking again.

“And, tell me to stop, but I’m-“ He half-laughs as if it’s a way of escaping the nerves, “I’m… I just thought I was so sure that there was something between us.”

“Con-“

“And you can tell me that I’m wrong but I don’t think I am.”

“Conrad I-“ You pause, biting your lip, “I can’t.”

“Just…” He shuffles in closer to you, his hand slowly rising to your cheek, thumb brushing the skin, “Tell me to stop.”

With that, he leans in and you find yourself pulled to him too, every bone in your body finally giving in to what you wanted. Your hands move to grip his shoulder, his breath fanning over your lips as he presses his against yours, slow at first and cautious.

You practically gasp at the contact, pulling him into you as if you don’t want him to slip away. His hand moves lower from your jaw and down to your neck, fingers wrapping around the back to keep you drawn to him, his other hand moving down to your waist. His fingers slip further back to the base of your spine, guiding you back against the floor as his other hand lowers your head down softly. You pull him back to your lips, fingers tangling into his hair. Both of you tangled between each other as his legs settle next to and between yours.

Once both of you are breathless, he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” He mumbles, laughing gently against you.

“I think I have some idea,” You respond, gripping his shoulders once again to pull him back into you.

———

It’s much later than normal the next morning when you eventually wake up. You and Conrad had split off into your separate rooms just as the fire was dying out and, with the sun blaring through the windows now, it just felt like it hadn’t happened. Like last night was a dream.

“Hey! You’re finally awake!” Belly announces as she walks back into the bedroom, “What happened to you last night?”

“Oh, um,” You lean up onto your elbows, “You know what I’m like, I hate storms.”

She nods, sitting on the edge of the bed, “We were thinking of what to do today.”

“Yeah? What’s the plan?” You drag a hand through your hair, feeling the flashbacks of Conrad’s fingers tangled amongst the strands.

“I don’t know yet, maybe we could go out tonight? There’s a party I think, one of Jere’s friends,” Belly suggests, picking Junior Mint up from the floor and setting him back onto the bed.

You feel your heart drop. The realisation seemingly hitting you like a ton of bricks. This was awful. What had you done?

It would break her heart if she knew what had happened last night.

But, god, you wanted to see Conrad again.

She disappears again to let you somewhat wake up fully and you push yourself enough out of the bed that your legs dangle over the side, dragging your hair away from your face and rubbing your hands over your eyes.

You don’t hear anyone coming into the room until he’s already dropping down onto the mattress behind you. The weight shifts and an all too familiar figure sits behind you, leaning forward to press a kiss to the exposed slither of skin on your shoulders.

“Good morning,” Conrad mumbles softly, his voice thick with sleep like your own.

You let yourself lean into his touch for a moment, every sensation from the night before seemingly reignited. It was real. He leans forward and perches his chin on your shoulder, tilting his head to look at you from the awkward angle.

“You know when we said last night that we’d be careful this isn’t what I meant,” You point out as he turns to kiss your neck, “This definitely isn’t careful.”

Conrad pulls back and you turn around on the bed so that you’re facing him, he reaches up a hand to brush the hair away from your face, “We’ll be careful. If that’s what it takes, we’ll do it.”

“I just…” You shake your head, “I can’t hurt Belly like that, not like this.”

Conrad nods and reaches a hand down to squeeze yours, “You won’t, I promise.”

You smile, taking a deep breath.

“But,” Conrad stands up, still holding your hand like he can’t bring himself to lose contact yet, “I would like to at least see you today. So if you could figure out a way for me to get you alone, that would be great.”

“God, you’re so needy Fisher.”

He rolls his eyes at you and disappears back out of the room, leaving you with a smile on your lips that it was impossible to get rid of.

———

Later that day, you’re outside with Belly, Jere and Steven by the pool, deciding on your plans for the evening.

“I’m just saying we should go, if it’s shit we can leave,” Jeremiah shrugs, “But like everyone’s going to be there.”

“Looking for someone to hook up with Jere?” Steven raises his eyebrows, splashing him with water from the pool.

Jeremiah scoffs, “Obviously not,” His eyes glance over to you, a small smile on his lips, “I just think it could be fun.”

“Alright but if we’re going we need drinks,” You point out, the idea crossing your mind as soon as you say the words, “I can go to the store.”

“There’s no way you’re getting anything,” Belly laughs, “You don’t have a fake.”

“No, but they know me less than they know you guys - so I’ll be more likely to get away with it, no?” You mention, pushing yourself up to stand, “Need anything else if I’m going?”

They all look at you slightly suspiciously but you ignore it, hurrying inside.

“Hey! I was just looking for yo-“ Conrad starts, just stepping down from the stairs as you rush through the house.

“Come on Fisher!” You grin, grabbing his hand on your way past, “We’re going out.”

He laughs breathlessly to catch up with you, following close behind as you grab your keys and run with him to your car.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” He raises his brows, pausing at the passenger side of the car.

You smile, “Didn’t you say you wanted to see me today?”

Conrad grins, “I won’t ask any more questions.”

Both of you pile into the car and you drive off, feeling like a new level of weightlessness when it was just the two of you together. You feel his eyes on you as you drive, like he’s infatuated by every part of you, and when you look back to him he doesn’t look away - the smile on his face only brightening at the connection. Part of you still couldn’t believe it.

You drive the two of you through the country lanes, through the rolling hills until you reach any level of seclusion, pulling up on a bank just over by the beach, overlooking an area that seemed completely untouched.

“Have you brought me here to kill me?” He looks at you slightly dumbfounded, “Should I be worried?”

“Well, there’s nobody here, I figured it was perfect,” You shrug, reaching into the back of your car to grab a couple of blankets.

“It is,” Conrad says, following your moves as you both get out of the car and walk down the short bank towards the sand.

The clearing of the beach is completely empty, and you stretch one of the blankets down onto the white sand, dropping down onto the soft surface and tossing the other blanket to your side. Conrad stands above you, his head blocking the sun as he grins down at you, his hair falling around his forehead.

“Hi,” You squint up at him, reaching out your arms until you can pull him into you.

He falls down beside you, leaning up onto his elbow.

“I still can’t believe this,” You comment, reaching up a hand to brush through the locks of hair around his eyes.

“Can’t believe what?”

“This. Us.” You say, feeling your stomach flip at the words, “I never thought it would happen.”

He frowns a little when you speak, “Why did you think that?”

You take a deep breath, “I’ve always been Bells’ friend, I thought that’s all you saw me as. God, they’re probably wondering where we are an-“

He leans down and silences your worries with a soft kiss, his lips lingering over yours without any pressure.

“They’re not thinking about us,” He assures you, “I’m thinking about us.”

You feel the smile tugging at your lips and he captures it into another kiss, as if sealing it between you.

You grip at his t-shirt and the back of his neck, pulling him into you as he shifts so that he’s over the top of your frame, deepening his connection against you. You’re breathless against his lips, desperate for more of him. His hand moves down to your waist, slipping below the hem of your top to hold your skin. You hiss at the contact, the cold touch of his fingertips.

He pulls back and smiles at you, glancing back around at the empty scene around you, “You know, there’s nobody around.”

You grin, looking to the side and pulling over the other blanket, shaking it out. He grabs it from you and stretches it over his back, burying both of you under your own seclusion.

His hands and lips find you again, his hips increasing their friction against you. And, in those moments, you’re sure that you two are the only two people in the world. Nobody else.

———

You get back a couple of hours later, carrying in a brown paper bag of liquor as Conrad walks behind you with two crates of beer.

“Listen I’m just saying that-“

You stop in your tracks as the door closes behind you and Jeremiah is stood in the hallway by the front door, at the base of the stairs.

“Where did you guys go?” He asks, glancing between the two of you.

“To the store,” Conrad says, nodding down to the items in your arms, “Getting the goods for you kids tonight.”

Jeremiah nods, “I could’ve gone with you (Y/n), if you needed help.”

“Oh, that’s okay, Con was just in the house when I came through so I asked if he wanted to come.”

Conrad smiles down at his feet and you fight the urge to nudge him in his side.

“Here, let me take that,” Jeremiah offers, taking the bag from your arms.

You thank him and he walks into the kitchen, Conrad following behind him, wiggling his brows at you before he disappears. You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile he always seemed to evoke.

“Hey!” Belly comes jogging down the stairs, “I thought I heard you, did you get everything at the store?”

“Yeah, yeah, got everything,” You nod, “Conrad got beer, and we got a bottle of tequila and vodka.”

“That’s where he was,” Belly returns, “I wasn’t sure where he’d disappeared to.”

You drag a hand through your hair, “Yeah sorry it was just a last minute thing, I figured I could do with the extra hands.”

She agrees, “I don’t think he’ll come tonight, he’s been distant recently.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I’m sure we can convince him,” You glance over to where him and Jere are stood in the kitchen and he laughs at something his brother has said, his eyes creasing as he does so.

You’re sure this is the brightest he’s seemed in a long time and you feel your heart swell a little at the sight.

And then Belly moves beside you and you’re flicked back to reality momentarily, a reality where your stomach sank at the thought of lying to your best friend.

———

All of you arrive at the party an hour after it had started, having made your way through at least half of the drinks you’d brought with you. You were wearing a pink floral fitted mini skirt and a white corset top that hugged your figure. You’d felt Conrad’s eyes on you almost as soon as you’d come downstairs.

The boys follow behind you as you all disperse amongst the party, you holding onto Belly’s hand as the two of you make your way to the kitchen.

“I’m already a bit buzzed,” Belly says into your ear, wearing a romper that she’d stolen from you, “I don’t think I should drink any more.”

You smile at her, “Here,” You pour lemonade into a red solo cup and push it into her hand, “They don’t need to know.”

You take your own bottle of beer and crack it open, holding your thumb over the top as you move back through the mass of bodies in search for the three boys’ heads that would pop up over the crowd.

“Wait,” Belly stops you, grabbing your arm, “I need to ask you something.”

You frown at her, shifting to face her against the moving bodies around you, “What is it?”

She leans in closer to you as she speaks, “I think I’m going to tell Conrad how I feel.”

You feel your heart drop, a lump forming in your throat.

“I just… I’ve been waiting for too long. And if I don’t say it now I never will,” She explains, “I can’t do that any more.”

You still can’t find the words, certain that you’ll stop breathing if the lump in your throat gets any larger. Your hands start to feel a little numb and you grip tighter onto the neck of the beer bottle to feel like you could be grounded at least a little.

“I have to say something,” She persists, “And hopefully he’ll tell me he feels the same way.”

Without realising, you stumble a little in the crowd and she reaches out to catch you.

“Are you okay?” Your best friend frowns at you.

“I just- I need some air,” You return, trying to force your words to be loud enough over the pounding music.

You push your way through the remaining people until you get to enough of a clearing, where you can get outside into the garden. Instantly, it’s like you’re gasping for a breath it was impossible to find.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Belly asks you, holding your arm as if holding you up.

“Um,” You drag a hand through your curled hair and look back at her, “Yeah, yeah, sorry, I just felt a bit dizzy in there.”

“God you terrified me,” She half-laughs, “Come on, the boys are over there.”

Belly guides you over to the beer pong table set up at one side of the terrace in the garden, Steven and Jeremiah are stood on one side and Conrad on the other.

“Hey! Bells, (Y/n)!” Jeremiah waves, “Come join us, we’re just starting.”

“Okay but I’m not drinking,” Belly grimaces at the sight of the half-filled cups.

“You can join our team then, (Y/n) can go with Conrad,” Steven shrugs, “Let’s go rookies.”

You walk over to Conrad’s side of the table and watch his eyes drag up and down the sight of your body, cocking your brow at him when his eyes finally meet yours. He blushes, fighting back a smile.

Jeremiah throws the first ball and it bounces from one of your cups, Conrad catching it as he throws it back, sinking it into one of the cups at the edge of their triangle.

“Nice shot,” You comment quietly, sipping from the beer in your hand.

He reaches an arm around your shoulders and takes the bottle from your hand, bringing it to his own lips to take a sip.

“Come on, drink up,” Steven breaks the moment, gesturing towards the ball now landed in one of the cups on your side.

You roll your eyes and pick up the cup, tipping back the drink and grimacing at the overwhelming taste.

“Alright, my turn,” You say, picking up the ball and lining up to throw it towards them.

Conrad’s hand falls to the small of your back, the bare skin between your top and skirt. You glance back with slightly widened eyes but quickly try to ignore it. He was buzzed, that’s what it was. All of his inhibitions were lowered, and his widened pupils couldn’t help but focus on you. You throw the ball from your hand and it bounces to land in their front cup. In one movement, you shift to stand directly in front of Conrad, trying your best to shield his desperation for you. The other three seem too distracted anyway, bickering over which one of them has to drink as Conrad holds your waist, pulling you back against him.

“Con,” You say under your breath, tightening your grip on the edge of the table, “Not here.”

He listens almost instantly, his hands loosening on you as he steps to the side, eyes not leaving you.

“We’ll leave early,” You mention quietly and he smirks, pursing his lips together.

“Come on losers, one of you has got to drink,” Conrad encourages, clasping his hands together, a new lease of life seemingly coursing through him.

You go about the rest of the game and you and Conrad both grimace through another two cups each before you eventually win the game, pushing your remaining cups to the other side for the rest to drink.

“Alright, I need to find the bathroom,” You mention, checking your reflection in the black mirror of your phone screen, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

You squeeze Conrad’s forearm before stepping past him to walk towards the house, trailing through the bodies and eventually making your way upstairs to the nearest available bathroom, shooting him a text of ‘second door on the left’.

You sit yourself on the closed lid of the toilet until, only a minute later, there’s a tap at the door. Without so much as a second thought, you stand up and unlock the door quickly, grinning at the sight of Conrad on the other side. He glances once over his shoulder to check for any prying eyes in the empty corridor before stepping in, hands gripping your waist instantly and turning you around, pressing you against the door as it closes behind you. You gasp at the contact and your mouth falls open, Conrad dipping his head to kiss at your neck.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you in this,” He grumbles, pressing against you, “You’re killing me (Y/l/n).”

“Yeah? I couldn’t tell,” You smirk, your hands moving down to unbutton his trousers, pushing him back until his back hits the opposite wall.

———

You adjust your skirt once, twice more, before stepping outside, running a hand through your hair once again, dragging a finger under either of your eyes. Conrad had left a couple of minutes ago so it was likely safe for you to do so too.

“There you are!” Belly exclaims, hurrying over to you as soon as you step onto the staircase, “Conrad said you were being sick.”

“Um,” You swallow to compose yourself, “Yeah, yeah, just too much beer I think.”

“Okay, yeah, Steven’s been sick in the garden too, I think we’re going to head home,” She nods, “Are you okay? Do you need some water or something?”

There’s that feeling again, the sinking in your chest. The sick in your stomach, not the kind of sick from Conrad’s lie. This was real. It was real because your best friend was stood in front of you and she cared about you, so openly and blatantly she cared about you, and you were lying to her. Over something that would break her heart. You were lying to her.

“Come on, let’s go,” She puts an arm out for you to take her hand and leads you down the staircase to where the three boys are waiting at the bottom.

Conrad looks up at you as you come down, a smile on his lips before he looks back down at his feet. His hair was messier than normal and you wondered whether anyone had questioned it.

“You feeling okay (Y/n)?” Jeremiah frowns, “Here, take this.”

He tugs the flannel from around his shoulders and hands it to you, waiting for your arms to slip into the sleeves.

“Oh, yeah, thanks Jere,” You nod, adjusting the material around you.

Conrad clenches his jaw, opening the door and stepping out without another word. You all follow behind, taking the shortcut that lead you back towards Susannah’s house, eventually reaching the familiar setting. Steven stumbles and clings onto Jeremiah, telling him that they should carry on drinking, and Belly looks at you every two seconds as if you’re about to break beside her, Conrad doesn’t look back at you.

Everything just feels… off. Jeremiah’s shirt seemed to itch around your arms and it didn’t sit right around your shoulders, and Belly’s arm was linked in yours but it just didn’t seem to rest there properly and it made your arm ache when you focused on it for too long, and why wouldn’t Conrad look at you?!

You eventually get back into the house and Jeremiah carries Steven’s weight through the corridor as quietly as he can, making sure he takes one stumbling step at a time. Belly tells you she’s going to get in the bathroom before anyone else does and you and Conrad are left stood in the doorway.

He glances back at you.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” You offer, pulling Jeremiah’s shirt from around you.

“You could’ve used mine,” He mumbles softly.

“Your what?” You frown, blinking at him in the low light.

“My jacket, you could’ve borrowed it,” He shrugs, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Conrad Fisher are you jealous?” You scoff, and for a moment in your laughter you forget about everything that had been worrying you on the way home. It’s just you and him again.

He rolls his eyes, “No, I just mean-“

You step forward until you’re directly below him, waiting until his eyes will meet yours.

“Admit it,” You state simply, “Admit you were jealous.”

“Im not jealous it’s just-“ He stops, “I don’t- I didn’t-“

You raise your brows, fighting to stop yourself from laughing at him.

“Good night,” He grumbles turning away from you.

You grab his hand and stop him, turning him around so that you can press the quickest peck to his lips. Conrad looks at you with a smile on his lips, drawing you back in to kiss him again, a second longer.

It’s only when you pull away that you both think to glance to the top of the stairs - to the figure stood at the top of them.

“What the fuck?” Steven mumbles, stumbling a little and catching himself on the wall.

Conrad looks at you almost instantly and you watch the worry cast over his face, him watching the exact same expression pass over yours.

“Come on, man, let’s get you to bed,” Jeremiah encourages, hurrying back over to Steven and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

He pauses when he sees the two of you at the bottom of the stairs, both looking up like you’ve seen a ghost.

“Good night guys,” He frowns, hooking his arm below Steven’s armpits and dragging him towards his bedroom.

Conrad looks at you again and his mouth opens as if to say something, stopping before he speaks, closing his mouth again, waiting, and then saying, “I’m so sorry (Y/n).”

You look at him and frown, hearing the way the words catch in his throat as if assuring you they’re honest. You can practically feel the way his chest would have been tightening against the words, the way he’d struggle against them.

“Hey,” You reach out a hand and take his, squeezing it, “Not your fault.”

He looks down at you and swallows the lump in his throat.

“Come on, not here,” You encourage, pulling his hand with you as the two of you walk through the empty bottom floor.

You lead him into the lounge where the two of you sit down in front of the fireplace. You cross your legs and face him and he stretches his out towards the fireplace, leaning back against the couch behind you.

“Okay, chances are Steven’s not going to keep his mouth shut,” You begin, “Even drunk, he’ll probably remember what he saw.”

Conrad just nods.

“Look, I get it. It’s only been a couple of days, and this ruins things and I totally understand if you don’t want this to carry-“

“Woah, woah, woah,” Conrad bolts upright, “What gave you that impression?”

“Well,” You look down at your hands in your lap, “I know we’ve been hooking up but everyone knowing is going to make this into something and I don’t know if you’re ready for that or if you want that or… I don’t know.”

“(Y/n),” He takes one of your hands and interlocks his fingers with yours, his large grip folding over your knuckles, “I want this. Not just sneaking off and hooking up, I want this. I want you.”

You feel your heart skip a beat, your whole body feeling like it could ignite under his touch.

“If they find out now, then we deal with it, okay?” He waits until your eyes find his, “We’re in this for the long haul, right?”

You nod and watch the corners of his lips curl up into a smile. You turn so that your back is against the couch beside him and he wraps an arm around your back, your head resting on his shoulder and his resting atop yours. You’re sure you could stay like that forever. And, somewhere along the line, both of you drift off to sleep.

———

When you blink your eyes open, for a second you hope you’re dreaming… or perhaps this is more like being in a nightmare. Stood directly in front of the pair of you, are the looming figures of Jeremiah, Steven and… Belly. You nudge Conrad and he blinks awake too, groaning at the stiff pain in his neck.

“God I thought I was dreaming last night but I wasn’t, was I?” Steven gestures between the two of you, “I mean, you guys are…”

You glance at Conrad and back to the others, scrambling to your feet, “I can explain-“

You reach out for Belly but she pulls away, storming out of the room as quickly as she can. You feel the tears bubble in your eyes, the lump in your throat.

“I mean, seriously (Y/n)?” Steven scoffs, “You knew how she felt about him. She’s meant to be your best friend.”

“I didn’t mean for-“

“Conrad?!” Jeremiah exclaims, “Seriously, of all the people you could’ve been with you went for Conrad? The one person you knew would break Belly’s heart.”

“It wasn’t like that,” You shake your head quickly, “It just happened and-“

“Well maybe if you weren’t so busy thinking about fucking-“

“Hey!” Conrad stands up beside you, stepping ahead so that he shields you from them, directing his anger onto his brother, “Don’t talk to her like that.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable, do you know that?” Jeremiah laughs, “I tell you I like a girl and you take that as a sign to get her for yourself?”

“Jere, stop,” Conrad warns, “You’re going to say something you regret.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Jeremiah raises his voice, “You knew that I liked her, you knew I fucking liked her and you just cared about yourself.”

“It wasn’t like that, (Y/n) decided who she wanted to be with, I did too. It’s not always about you Jere,” Conrad shakes his head, “When are you going to grow up and realise that?”

“When am I going to grow up? How about you growing up and realising you’re going to break her fucking heart?” Jere shrugs, “I mean, seriously, emotionally unavailable Conrad? In a relationship that’ll last? You’ll break her heart and she’ll come crying to-“

“Stop!” You raise your voice, pushing to step aside from behind Conrad, “Both of you stop fucking talking about me like I’m not even here. I can’t deal with this right now, I need to find Belly.”

“(Y/n)…”

You hear the faint tone of Conrad’s voice behind you but it’s overshadowed by the blood pounding in your ears as you hurry through the house to find her, catching sight of her just by the pool.

“Belly!” You call, pushing open the door, “Belly please just talk to me!”

“You knew, (Y/n),” She spins on her heel to face you, her eyes puffy with tears, “You knew I liked him. From the minute we were in middle school I told you I liked him. I told you every summer since, and you listened to me every single fucking time. And then, what? You just wanted him for yourself this whole time.”

“It wasn’t like that…” You shake your head, “I never meant for it to happen, especially not like this.”

“Then what was it like, (Y/n)?”

You pause, seemingly incapable of finding any words in the moment, “I- I just…”

She crosses her arms over her chest and looks at you as if you’re a person she doesn’t recognise.

“It was a couple of summers ago, I don’t know what changed. He just seemed… different. And then I noticed it more last summer, just the little things in how he was acting with me, I couldn’t explain it. I never told you because I knew how much it would hurt you to think that I liked him too. But the other night things just happened and he told me how he felt about me and… I never meant for you to find out like this, and I never meant to lie to you.”

“Well, which one is it? Did you not want me to find out or did you not want to lie to me? You can’t have both.”

“I-“ You fight back the tears stinging at your eyes, “I didn’t want to break your heart, Bells. But I could feel myself falling in love with him and him falling in love wi-“

“In love?” She steps forward, eyebrows raised against the redness of her cheeks, “It’s not love, (Y/n). Conrad doesn’t love you. You’re just there and he knows he can have you. You’ll realise that eventually.”

Her words are void of any emotion other than hatred, spitting from her mouth like she’s desperate for them to escape her. She storms past you and down the side of the house, each one of her steps carrying more anger than the last.

You feel your chest tighten, the way it seems to contort and twist when you’re on the verge of tears.

The garden door opens again and it’s Conrad this time. At the second your eyes meet his, you release every emotion in side of you, letting out a sob. He reacts almost instantly, hurrying down to scoop you into his arms, letting you bury your head on his chest, soaking through his t-shirt. One of his hands grips around your back and the other holds your head against him, running through your hair.

“It’s okay, (Y/n),” His voice is soft, like he is terrified of breaking you further.

You pull away from him and look up to his face, shaking your head through the tears still spilling from your eyes, “How is it going to be okay, Con? They hate us. All of them hate us.”

“Hey,” His hands move up to either of your cheeks, thumbs brushing under your eyes to swipe away the tears before they can even fall, “It’s you and me, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

You let yourself sink into the feeling of his arms around you, his heartbeat sounding less certain than his words did.

“You’ve got me.”

And in that moment, you know it’s true.

#tsitp #tsitp conrad #conrad x reader #conrad x you #conrad x y/n #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #tsitp one shot #tsitp drabble #tsitp blurb #tsitp imagine #tsitp request #the summer i turned pretty

[luveline]

Jade my dear I just had an idea for prince Steve… what if he got hurt (fencing or something??? honestly idk) & reader freaks out even though their relationship is fairly new? Or idk how your soulmate au works but maybe she can feel it too? Or idk!! I’d just love to see what you could do with that, but no pressure either way 🫶🏼

ty for requesting!! fem!reader, 1.1k

“Holy fuck!” Steve says, yanking his leg back from the doctor’s cold hands, and hurting his knee worse than ever. “Fuck!” 

“Steven,” she says with an eye roll, used to his lack of carefulness by now. 

“What the fuck.” 

“It’s not that bad. You haven’t even torn anything. It’s a sprain at worst.” 

“I will never walk again.” 

“Fingers crossed,” Robin says, kicking her legs up onto the end of his medical bed. Her hat slips down into her eyes, her naked knees red from ten minutes in the grass trying to persuade Steve into standing again. 

“It hurt so bad. Are you sure I can’t have morphine?” he asks. 

The doctor tightens the bandages one last time around Steve’s knee. “Absolutely not. I’ll make you a peppermint tea for the inflammation. You’ll be better by tomorrow.” 

It throbs evilly. Steve doesn’t believe even for a moment that his knee will be better by tomorrow, he can’t walk without help. “I want to see another doctor,” he decides. 

“Sure,” the doctor says. “Tomorrow.” 

Steve sinks down into the pillows unhappily. What kind of royal life is this? Nobody ever takes him seriously, they couldn’t care less that he’s injured, and now he’s doomed to sit inside for who knows how long in the suffocating heat and the smothering presence of his attendants. Worst day ever. 

“Where’s Y/N?” he asks, because if he’s going to suffer, he’s going to be spoiled about it. “I want to see her.” 

“She’s in her political etiquette class,” Robin says from under the hat, unmoving. 

“That’s dumb. She doesn’t like politics or etiquette. Can we have her pulled out?” 

“Sure, Steve, we’ll disrupt her entire day because you slipped on dry grass.” 

Steve tries to catch the eye of one of the serfs lining the room and by the door, but they’re smart to his ways, and they look away. He doesn’t care. He’s a prince. “Hello? Can someone go and get her, please?” 

They all stand still but uncomfortable for a moment, and then one says, “She’s coming down the hall as we speak, your highness.” 

“Aw, yes,” he says, propping up on his elbows to look out the doorway. There you are, in a pretty, breezy dress you aren’t used to wearing and your hair in one of the new fashions, silver bracelets tinkling on your wrist as you speed walk to the door.

“Hello,” you say, breathless, still shy despite having married him and kissed him more times than he can count (seventeen).

“Sweetheart,” he says, “I’ve been grievously harmed.” 

“They told me, and I–” You rub your index fingernail between the thumb and index of the other hand. “I can feel it,” you say, an embarrassed and adorable smile on your lips as you waver in the door. “Are you okay?”

“You have to sit down and have some morphine too,” he says quickly. 

“You aren’t having any morphine,” Robin says. 

You weave around servants and the dressing table to stand by his bed. He’s pleased to realise you want to sit hip to hip with him, moving over despite his screaming knee, and putting his arm behind you as you hoist yourself onto the bed. “Hello,” he says, audibly charmed by you as he kisses your cheek. He rubs the kiss with the back of his finger. “Didn’t hurt you too much, did I?” 

“It feels like I’ve had a cramp,” you say. “But it’s not– I can’t imagine how it feels for you.”

“I’m sorry to hurt you,” he says.

“Ew,” Robin grumbles, covering her face with skinny hands. 

“Sorry, Robin.” You wipe your forehead. “I freaked out.”

“Don’t say sorry to her,” Steve says, putting his hand on your hip just to watch you fluster, “she’s bitter. Let me rub your knee.”

“What about your knee? What did you even do?”

“I fell. A little. A minor fall.” 

“Will you be alright?” 

“Honey, I’m in agony, and they won’t treat me, and you’re sitting with me, so I’m already fine.” 

Confusion in your gaze melds to sweetness. You’re practically heart-eyed leaning into his side, wrapping your arm around his stomach. You rarely initiate hugs from fear of being overbearing, and he can’t believe his luck. He’ll be eating grass more often. 

“I can feel that you aren’t fine. Are you going to be okay? Seriously, Steve, are you hurting?”

Your soul mark burns a light blue. He’s narrowed your colours down, he thinks, maybe, though they tend to change. Blue means love and affection. He’s a more classic guy —when he’s in love, his soul mark burns a gaussian pink just as it does now. 

“Oh, you can feel it?” he asks.

“Don’t start.” 

“We’re so connected,” he says quietly, teasingly, a flirtation for your ears alone. “It’s almost like we’re soulmates or something. Suns, I wish. I’d be a lucky guy, huh? Connected to a girl like you?” He draws a line from just below your ear to your chin. “I’d feel like a prince among men.” 

“Stop,” you whisper, in a tone that suggests you’d very much like him to continue. 

Nonetheless, he drops his hand in favour of kissing you instead, pressing his lips softly to your cheek. His leg throbs with angry pain and a headache brews between his eyes, but he’s not kidding about being fine. Everything feels better when you’re with him. You truly are the half to his whole, no matter how new your relationship might be. 

“How was your morning?” he asks. 

“Being a princess is awful.” 

“Yes, but it suits you.” 

You turn your face to his, close enough to kiss. It’s very tempting for Steve, but he lets you say what’s clearly on your mind. “I had a funny feeling about you this morning, like something bad was going to happen, and I wanted to be with you in case but they wouldn’t let me out of meditation. Do you think I was having a premonition?”

“Maybe. They wouldn’t let you out?” 

“Morine said I need to have better discipline if I’m going to be queen.” 

He laughs and wraps his arms around you completely for a full, loving hug. “You will be queen, no ifs about it, so you need to start acting like one and have more hissy fits to visit your pathetic husband.” He kisses your cheek three times in quick succession. 

Your soul mark intensifies slowly, until it burns a beautiful, coruscating blue that dances over the skin of your wrist as you hug him back. “You’re the opposite of pathetic.” 

“No, I was. Ask Robin.” 

“He was,” Robin says. 

“But I’m totally cooler now,” he promises. 

You let your face fall into the curve of his neck, tickling him with your smile. “You’re so cool, Steve.” 

“My lovely liar.” He kisses the top of your head. 

“As touching as this is, I have your tea ready now, young Steven,” the doctor says. 

Steve pretends he can’t hear her. 

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

[stevieschrodinger]

Part Four - Baker Steve/Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU - Final chapter/complete

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

The kids are quiet in the back.

There ended up being ten of them. Once Steve realized that eight people would not fit in his car, he talked to Nancy. Nancy sighed out of her nose the way she does, but Steve already knew she was going to say yes, especially with Mike ready to literally throw himself at her feet to beg.

And then obviously Jonathan had to come along. Turns out he actually, really, genuinely likes Corroded Coffin and was as excited as the kids to learn Steve had tickets. Well, excited in that understated, no energy for anything ever way that Jonathan has about him.

So yeah, Mike went with Nancy and Jonathan, which meant Dustin and Will got pushed in that direction. Steve could breathe a sigh of relief; that left him with Max, El, and Lucas. The sensible ones. The nice ones.

If you ignore how scathing Max could be. So the girls have an earbud each from Max’s phone and Lucas seems to be content to stare out of the window while Max stoically pretends they aren’t holding hands.

It’s cute.

Robins’ looking at the side of his face, Steve can feel it. He raises an eyebrow, ‘what?’

Robin raises both her eyebrows tips her whole head in question, ‘how you feeling?’

Steve shrugs, tilts his head dismissively. The he rethinks his answer for a more honest one, lifting one hand off the wheel to, out of sight of the kids, make a rocking gesture, ‘so-so.’

Robin nods sympathetically, seeming content with his answer, ‘that’s fair.’

He’d told Robin, obviously, that he’d hit it off with a customer and developed a monster crush and hopefully fingers and toes crossed that customer liked him back. He had not told her who Eddie actually is though, because even though it’s Robin and Steve did once get her to look at his dick because he thought something looked weird, (“It looks weird Steve, it’s a dick.” “Yeah, but weird like, see a doctor weird?”) and they have literally no secrets between them...this isn’t his secret.

Until tonight.

And Steve had to tell her just because tonight he might...actually get to meet Eddie. For real.

Once she’d finished squealing and beating him with a pillow, she’d understood.

So.

Steve’s kind of got a hurricane worth of butterflies in him.

Steve has detailed instructions and a QR code in the form of the email he printed from Eddie. All the kids laughed at him because ‘no one prints tickets any more, Steve’ but he was nervous, okay? And phone batteries can die or the internet could not work or. Yeah. He wanted a sure thing.

So they all go to the gate that the email says, and when the QR code gets scanned the woman with the scanner points off to the side, “can you wait there please,” and then pulls out a walkie talkie and speaks into it, “Steve Harrington has arrived.”

There’s a blast of static which, presumably, she understands, and then she goes back to doing her job. Less than five minutes later, five minutes filled with everyone but Robin demanding, “what the actual fuck, Steven,” someone else arrives. A guy with a tablet, a headset, and a very, very 100% done look on his face shows up. He’s wearing Corroded Coffin merch and asks the group to follow along. Which they do.

They’re led along white washed corridors, clearly under the stadium, and get dropped off in a room. A room with a TV on, and snacks and drinks, “this is all for you, go for it, I’ll be back before the support goes on.” And the dude leaves.

The girls, priorities sorted, lay into the snacks. Dustin and Mike are insisting again, “what the fuck is going on?” and getting ever more obnoxious about it.

Steve, very smugly, informs them that he, “knows a guy,” and settles down with the girls and a bag of Cheetos. He’s going to enjoy this while it lasts, watching Dustin splutter over it is very satisfying.

Steve wasn’t expecting any of this. He’s playing it as cool as he can, but he was expecting to get tickets, see the show, call Eddie after and maybe get to see him. He wasn’t expecting to be perched in seats the have been put at the side of the stage, just for them. Someone keeps checking on them, to bring them drinks and snacks.

He’s probably, right now, less than fifty feet from Eddie Munson. Eddie, who's wearing torn up skin tight jeans, shit kicker boots and nothing else. Eddie, who has his guitar slung at his back as he roars into the microphone.

The crowd are going batshit.

Steve’s slowly going insane. When the stage lights finally, finally go down, Steve thinks, this is it. He’s going to meet Eddie. Now is his moment.

The lights come back up, they play an encore. It’s four fucking songs long. Steve’s pulling his hair out as is genuinely concerned he might be sick.

The kids don’t notice; they’ve all just been given gift bags brimming with merch.

The band come over, once they’re finally done. They’re red faced and sweaty and the kids are all vibrating with excitement but Steve doesn’t care, he just doesn’t, because he can very clearly see Eddie leaving the other way. Disappearing off the other side of the stage. Away from Steve.

Well, fuck that.

Gareth is standing practically right next to Steve, signing the kids merch and talking to them, “where is Eddie?”

All the other members of the band look at Steve, and all of them look sheepish as fuck. “He’s, uhm, you know, busy.”

“Busy,” Steve replies, deadpan. And then it occurs to him. Eddie doesn’t know, so they don’t know. They think they’re keeping Eddie’s secret. “I know. I know it’s him. I want to see him.”

Every member of the band visibly relaxes, “see, I fucking told you he’s worked it out-” Jeff starts.

“Eddie is such a shitty liar,” Gareth agrees.

“Yes, he is. And I know it’s him, and I’ve known for ages, and now he’s…” Steve gestures weakly in the direction Eddie disappeared in.

“Having a meltdown in a greenroom because he thinks you’re going to hate him when you realize he’s been lying to you,” Jeff supplies helpfully.

“What the fuck is happening??” Dustin screeches. Steve pushes him away with a hand on the forehead.

Gareth laughs, “come on man. One way to settle this and honestly, I am so ready for it. I am done with his pining.”

Steve perks up immediately, jogging along after, “he’s been pining?”

Steve is left with a thumbs up, standing in an empty hallway, looking at a very, very unassuming door. He lifts his hand to knock but...can’t.

It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like...like them. So after a few moments of indecision, Steve jogs a little way along the hall and then pulls out his phone, calling Eddie.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Eds.”

“You enjoy the show?”

“I did, yeah, thank you, so so much. The kids loved it too. And all the, you know, extra stuff, it was all amazing...but I had, kind of hoped I’d get to see you tonight?”

“Yeah,” Eddie starts slowly. Painfully slowly, “about, about that-”

“Look,” Steve sighs, now genuinely terrified that this is it, and it comes out a little sharper than he means it too but, he's...kind of scared that this thing is going to die before it even starts, “if you don’t want to meet up, I get it.”

“No. No Steve, it isn’t that. It really, really isn’t, it’s just...I might have, withheld something from you. Slightly.”

“Is it that, you're Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin’s front man?”

“You see, the thing is, I’m actually, Eddie, like the lead singer guy of-wait. Wait. Hold up. You- Steve. Stevie. Honey. What?”

“I know who you are Eddie. I’ve known for a while. I’m outside. The room. Like, I'm standing outside the door.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathes. And then...nothing.

“Eds?” Steve asks, tentatively.

“I was just...you don’t know what it’s like Steve. To be this famous. No one just...treats me like a normal guy. Not ever. Everyone wants something from me, you know? Everyone just thinks I’m rich and famous and I can do things for them. They only ever want to talk about the music and the shows and the fame and...I just...I’m...someone to fuck for bragging rights, not because anyone actually cares...no one. No one ever treats me, like, well, like a person. And you have, Stevie, this whole time you’ve just...been normal. I want someone who likes me for me... And I missed normal so much, and I thought, I was scared that once you found out I’d loose that but...you’ve known this whole time?”

Steve’s heart is kind of breaking for Eddie, and he wants to comfort him, show him nothing’s changing, but he isn’t going to force anything on him, this is Eddie’s choice, “yeah. I’ve known...pretty much the whole time yeah. You’re a...well, absolutely atrocious liar, Eddie Munson.”

“Yeah?” and Jesus he sounds like he’s laughing and crying a little, “are you, did you say you were outside? Are you still-”

“I’m here, right outside the door.”

“I. I, okay. Yeah. Yeah.” And then Eddie hands up.

And for a really long, really long minute, Steve worries that’s it. Eddie’s not going to open the door and-

The door opens slowly, Eddie peeking out at Steve. Steve can’t help laughing. And then Eddie laughs, coming the rest of the way out, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. His eyes are red rimmed, like he’s been crying, and Steve’s desperately trying to blink back the tears himself, “can I hug you?”

“Yeah,” Eddie’s voice is rough from the gig, much more noticeable now in person, “yeah, I’d like that.”

Steve doesn’t hesitate, throwing his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and pulling him tight close. Eddie’s more tentative, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and then...nuzzling into the side of Steve’s neck. Eddie takes a deep breath and...relaxes against Steve.

They stand there, hugging, Steve’s face buried in Eddie’s sweaty curls, swaying gently together in the quiet hallway.

@steves-yellow-cardigin @melodymeddler @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao

@superduckmilkshake @she-collects-smut @paintsplatteredandimperfect @resident-gay-bitch

@bestwifehaver @estrellami-1 @vampireinthesun @clumsiluni @swimmingbirdrunningrock @uwujinniee @heartdinosblog @overhillunderhill @noodle-shenaniganery @carlprocastinator1000 @danni-phant0m @wxrmland @steddie-as-they-go @i-have-three-feelings @space-invading-pigeon @antonymeanonyme @steddiedreamer @dragonmama76 @honorarybrit81 @punctualhowell @mojowitchcraft

@melodymeddler @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @co5m0 @tinyplanet95

#eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #baker steve harrington #rock star eddie munson #ficlet #my fic writing #fan fic author #fan fic stuff #ao3 author #wrong number au #complete #complete work

[xcherricutie]

🏵️ independent together 🏵️

[Lucifer Morningstar x Reader]

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four]

[Word Count - 5.5k]

[Tags: Fluff, bit of angst sprinkled in, bit of Adam x Reader sprinkled in too, songfic, two songs this time!!]

[Notes: This is the last part, I don't wanna milk it lol. I put two songs in this part, mostly because I really wanted to give Adam a song. Also, yes, this part is, like, triple the size of the others, sorry to those who don't like long one shots. I got way more love for these than I thought I would, so thank you to everyone, it was so much fun. I literally was getting at least a hundred notifications a day lol, thanks again for all the love]

[Additional note: take a shot every time you read "independent together". I love the song, but HOLY SHIT are the lyrics repetitive, it was so hard to write in a way that flowed easily]

“Hey, bitch, you alright in there?” 

You ignored the voice on the other side of the door. You didn’t dare crawl out of the safe space that was your blankets. The thought that he might be standing on the other side made your gut twist in fear, even if you knew that wasn’t the case. You didn’t dare risk it, even if you knew there was no way Adam and Lucifer would be standing side by side outside your room. 

Adam grumbled in annoyance at the lack of a response. Charlie had begged him to come check on you after you disappeared into your room days ago. You refused to open the door for anyone, not even Charlie, and the only person she thought could convince you to open up was Adam. He didn’t see the point in bothering, saying that they should just leave you be to mope, but Charlie insisted. So, here he was, against his will, checking on you. 

As the silence drawled on, Adam rolled his eyes, grabbing your door handle and giving it a twist. It was locked, but locked doors meant little in Hell, applying just a tad bit more strength to twist it open. The door gave in, opening to reveal your bedroom. 

You heard the door creaking open, shooting up out of your blankets. Glaring at your intruder, you're curled into the blankets, completely wrapped up in the only thing keeping you safe from Adam. Even though you knew he was completely harmless, you still didn’t feel comfortable being in the presence of anybody at all, not right now. Not after what you’d witnessed in Lucifer’s room. 

“So, the fuck is up?” Adam asked as he threw himself down onto your bed, the bed creaking loudly from the sudden addition. He laid on his side, leaning his cheek on the palm of his hand, his masked eyes looking over at you curiously. He couldn’t deny that he too wondered what had suddenly got into you. You were fine the night they drank together. “You’ve been holed up in here for days, the bitch is starting to get worried.” 

By “bitch”, you knew he meant Charlie. You knew she was worried; she had been coming up to check on you the last four days you had been isolated in your room. You would give her a short reply, saying you just weren’t feeling well, but you’d never open the door for her. Well, she’d certainly be able to come in now that Adam had broken the lock on your door. You’d have to ask Alastor to fix it, which you were not excited about. 

“I’m fine,” You rolled your eyes in annoyance, turning to lay on your side and hide your face from Adam’s view. “I told Charlie I just wasn’t feeling well. Tell her not to worry, I’ll get over it soon.” 

“Tell her yourself, bitch, get out of bed,” Adam said, laying on his back as he casually examined his nails, which had now turned into claws since his second death. You growled in annoyance, kicking him in the side, earning a pained cry from him. “What the fuck is your problem!? Being a little fuckin’ rude, aren’t ya? Even after I came up here to check on your ungrateful ass!” 

“Maybe don’t break into people’s rooms, Adam!” You shouted, sitting up and glaring down at him. Adam huffed, crossing his arms as he sat up. He practically eclipsed you in size, especially as his wings ruffled in annoyance. 

“What’s your deal? You were fine the other night, are you just pissy with me? Did I do something to piss you off?” He asked. You looked at him in surprise, eyes wide. 

You didn’t think about it until now, but that’s probably how it appeared to Adam and the others. You had spent another long night of drinking with Adam, only to suddenly close off the entire world, including Adam, with no explanation. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as you shook your head. “No, it wasn’t you, you didn’t do anything. It was...” 

You paused, unsure if it was the right idea to tell Adam of all people what had happened. When Adam leaned in curiously, a brow raised, you decided it was too late to back out of telling him now. “It was Lucifer. He was... I found him singing, about me, about us...” 

Adam looked down at you, confusion written across his face. “Singing about you? That’s fucking weird. He sounds totally into you, fucking gross.” 

You winced at his harsh words, though you didn’t disagree. Lucifer was missing you; he had sung all about how much he missed you, how much it hurt him to see you again. You found it somewhat pathetic that he was hurting, when he was the one who abandoned you. It was his fault he was missing you. 

Your anger revitalized, you clenched your fists as you huffed. “I know. It’s honestly pathetic; he’s the one who cheated! He shouldn’t be surprised I’m not going back to him.” 

“Woah, wait, what?” Adam grabbed your shoulders, looking down at you in pure shock. It took you a minute to process why he was so surprised, when it occurred to you that Adam didn’t know. It had completely slipped your mind that you hadn’t told anyone the actual connection you had with Lucifer. As far as everyone else knew, you two just used to be close friends. Nobody knew you were actually married. 

Your throat dried at the realization, tripping over words as you tried to come up with an explanation. Adam immediately saw through your lies, gripping your shoulders tighter, demanding the truth. You chuckled nervously, leaning away from him, although unable to escape his grip. 

“We, ah... Lucifer and I were actually married before everything happened. He cheated on me and left me for Lilith...” You spoke, hoping and praying to anyone that would listen that this didn’t get back to Charlie. You should have known Adam better though. He was going to make this a huge deal. 

“No fucking way,” Adam released you, placing a hand on his head as he came to terms with the bombshell information. “No fucking way. This is perfect.” 

You raised a brow in confusion, wanting to question him, but you had no time to voice your thoughts as you were ripped out of your bed. You yelped in surprise as Adam squeezed your wrists, bending over to have his face directly in front of yours. 

“Let’s make him super fucking jealous,” Adam grinned from ear to ear, his mask visibly glitching with excitement. He could finally get back at Lucifer, take his revenge for stealing both of his wives. “Come on, it’s fucking genius. Little man stole both our lives from each other! He stole my wives, and cheated on you with them! So, wouldn’t it just be so perfect that we just happen to get a little too close, fuck around, and make him super jealous? It’d be the perfect revenge, and hey, you’ll get to dick around a little too with the Dickmaster.” 

You cringed at the title he chose for himself, pulling back from him, but not strong enough to escape his grip. “I don’t know, Adam. I’m not into you like that. And I don’t want to catch Lucifer’s attention any more than I already have.” 

“Come on, babe, everyone’s into me like that,” Adam scoffed, pulling you to him by the waist. “Let’s just give it a try! He likes to sing about you, huh? I wonder how much he’d like it if I sung about you.” 

“W-Wait, Adam—” 

Before you could resist any harder, Adam whisked you away, throwing you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes as he flew back to the main hall, where everyone sat about in the lobby. You went limp against him, knowing there was little use in fighting the stubborn demon, a small chuckle escaping your lips. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a little fun with the situation, as messed up as it was. 

“Oh! Adam!” 

You heard Charlie’s voice as Adam came to a stop in the center of the lobby. He set you down on your feet, turning to Charlie with a smirk. “Got the bitch out, no need to thank me, I know I’m the best.” 

“Right...” Charlie gave him a forced smile. She turned her eyes onto you, about to ask you a question, when Adam spoke back up, ripping Charlie’s attention away and back onto him. 

“So, listen, CharChar,” Adam smirked as his particular use of the nickname caught a certain Devil’s attention. “I just came up with a sick ass way to thank you for letting me freeload off you while I’m down here. Seeing as how you guys all love a sappy fucking song, I decided, why not have the First Man put on a little show? I’ve got the voice, I’m the best at what I do, it’d be the fucking best.” 

Charlie’s eyes visibly lit up with excitement, Adam’s words surprising the other residents as well. The entire time Adam had been staying at the hotel, he refused to do anything for anyone, and especially refused to thank Charlie for allowing him to stay. Charlie had assumed his sudden change had occurred because of you, giggling excitedly at the thought. Finally, she was seeing some progress. Or so she thought. 

“That’d be great! When would you like to do it?” Charlie asked, beaming up at him. 

“Right fuckin’ now,” Adam smirked, grabbing her wrist. Charlie yelped in surprise as Adam dragged her toward the lobby steps, leading her toward the roof of the hotel. 

With that, Adam had set up a very impromptu concert. You had tried to tell him that it was too much for a little bit of messing with Lucifer, but Adam was dead set on doing it. You didn’t even understand what a concert had to do with making Lucifer jealous because, as far as you knew, you weren’t even joining Adam in his little surprise concert. Adam didn’t tell you anything, just that he was going to have a little fun with the song. 

Charlie had materialized a small stage on the roof of the hotel, the hotel’s bright lights lighting up the stage brilliantly. She was nearly bursting at the seams with excitement, so much so that Vaggie was having to calm her down somewhat. You looked at Charlie with a brow slightly raised, almost concerned for the woman, before your gaze drifted onto a person standing in the back. Lucifer. 

You knew he was only up here because Adam had led Charlie up here. Lucifer didn’t trust Adam a single bit, barely letting the demon out of his sight sometimes. In fact, the only times where Lucifer wasn’t watching Adam like a hawk was when Adam was with you. The thought made you frown, huffing as you walked up to the stage where Adam stood, tuning his angelic guitar. 

“Hey, Adam,” You called out, trying to get his attention without earning others’ unwanted attention. Adam looked down at you, before smirking and walking up to the edge of stage you leaned against. 

“Wassup, babe?” He asked, sitting down. You hummed, your finger pressing into the wood of the makeshift stage, pulling at one of the jagged chips. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea? It’s going a little far just to make Lucifer jealous...” You muttered. Adam scoffed, his eyes rolling heavily enough to be seen even through his digital mask. 

“Come on, this is our revenge! This is our way of getting back at that midget for fucking our relationships up. He’s a little cheater and a wife stealing asshole. Let’s just have fun with this!” Adam exclaimed, grinning widely, baring his fangs. 

Before you could reply, Adam stood up, pulling his guitar up to rest on his shoulder. His movements as he walked to the center of the stage caught the attention of the little audience, everyone’s eyes landing on him. You huffed, stepping back to stand next to Charlie as Adam spoke up. 

“You guys ready to have your fuckin’ panties blown off by my sick skills!?” Adam yelled, getting excited himself. Not only had it been a long time since he got to play any music, but it was all to fuck with Lucifer. This was the best kind of music. “Let’s do this shit!” 

Adam strummed the strings of his guitar, making an almost bursting sound, before easing into a slow tune. You looked up at him in surprise, not aware that he could make any music that wasn’t just loud noise and screaming. It sounded shockingly good, almost like he planned this, and you knew he hadn’t. 

“Nothing is holding you back now,” Adam began, his voice soft, and lacking any of the curses he usually threw around. He looked down at you, winking and blowing a kiss, causing your face to warm up as you chuckled nervously. “No one can push you around.” 

“What do you wanna do? You’re the master of you,” Adam stepped closer to the edge of the stage, his eyes trained completely on you. He reached his hand out to you, surprising you as you hesitantly took it. “And isn’t the thought enough to lift you off of the ground?” 

Adam yanked you up off the ground, pulling a squeal out of you as he threw you into the air. A pair of wings sprouted from your back, the lights of the hotel and the city shining all around as you floated high above everything. Looking down at Adam, he gave you a large grin and a thumbs up, making you giggle. 

“Nothing,” You sang along, a grin spreading across your face. “Is holding me back now. No one can push me around.” 

Landing next to Adam, you looked up to the taller demon with a beam, your lips tugged upward into a smile. “What do I wanna be? I’m the master of me, and isn’t the thought enough to lift me off of the ground?” 

Your wings flapped in sync with Adam’s as you both lifted off the stage, mimicking each other’s smiles. Adam took the lead, leaning into you as he sang. 

“We could be independent together, independent together, we can fly,” Adam leaned his back against yours, your wings pressed together, moving together as one. “Independent together, independent together,” 

You looked up to Adam with wide, awestruck eyes, your genuine smile a sight to see. Adam had been the only one to make you smile like that in a long, long time, and he knew it. It made something within him flutter to life, something he hadn’t felt in a just as long time. Genuine happiness. He truly enjoyed singing with you. 

“Independent together, you and I,” Adam shot you a smile, making you giggle as you pulled away from his back. 

Adam looked back to you in surprise, his eyes widening as two more pairs of wings sprouted from your back. A halo formed above your head, its form in the shape of a crown on your head. Its white coloration immediately drew attention as your hair fluffed out, much like that of a seraphim. Your bright blue eyes shone brightly, matching the new pairs of eyes that dotted your body and wings, your clawed hand reaching out to Adam. 

Adam looked up at you in shock, no doubt unaware of what status you had been as an angel. You giggled as he hesitantly took your hand, momentarily awestruck by your transformation. He quickly recovered though as he pulled you to him, holding your angelic form against his own demonic body. 

“High above an endless sea,” Adam’s face leaned in closer, his breath fanning your face. You smiled up at him, leaning into his hold, letting him guide you. “No one brought us here but me. Every step and every choice...” 

His body turned, squeezing your hand as he pulled you along. Backs pressed together; you fell downward back to the stage. “It’s my fault, it’s my thought, it’s my words, it’s my voice,” 

Landing on the stage with an explosion of light, you let out a giggle as you used your own angelic magic to summon a matching bass to play along with Adam. Adam’s face visibly lit up as you began singing and playing along, your voice taking on a more angelic sound. 

“Independent together, independent together, if we try,” 

You and Adam leaned in, your smiles lighting up the stage as you sang together, perfectly in sync. “Independent together, independent together, independent together, you and I,” 

You had completely forgotten the whole point of this impromptu concert at this point. You forgot that there was an audience, that the rest of the world surrounded you. In the bright lights of the city and hotel, you could only see Adam before you, his face progressively getting closer. 

“Independent together, independent together, we can fly,” Your six wings spread out, your eyes glowing with exhilaration. You didn’t notice just how few inches apart your face was from Adam’s, nor did you see just how that affected the Devil that caused this whole concert to begin with. 

“Independent together, independent together,” Your hand reached out to Adam, your palm pressing against his masked face as you looked into his eyes. He could have sworn you were looking straight through his mask and into his eyes with how you were holding eye contact, getting lost in each other’s eyes. “Independent together, you and I,” 

Your wings slowed to a stop as you and Adam landed. You leaned your forehead against his, surprised as he returned the gesture full heartedly, nearly leaning into you as the song slowed to a stop. 

“Independent together, you and I...” 

You looked up to Adam in both surprise and excitement. Adam held the same exact expression, as if surprised by how carried away they had gotten. Laughter bubbled from within you as the bass you held disappeared, jumping into Adam’s arms with a squeal. Adam chuckled as he held you up, spinning around, before setting you down. 

“That was fucking awesome, babe!” Adam exclaimed, throwing his arms up in exaggeration. You chuckled at his reaction, before remembering that you had an audience. You turned your attention to see their reactions, your eyes widening. 

Tears streamed down Lucifer’s face as he stood in the very front of the small crowd. He looked up to you with a desperate, almost pleading look. Charlie called out to him with a worried tone, snapping him out of his daze as he roughly rubbed his sleeve across his face, whipping around and storming off without a single word. 

“Dad, wait! What’s wrong!?” Charlie yelled, watching as he slammed the door behind him, disappearing into the hotel. A loud burst of laughter caught her attention as she turned around to see Adam completely doubled over, struggling to contain himself and breathe. 

“D-Did you see his fucking face? We broke him,” Adam stuttered through his laughter, wiping away a fake tear from his mask. He stood up straight, turning to see your reaction, his laughter coming to an abrupt halt as he saw the distraught look on your face. 

“Wait a minute,” Charlie held her hands up, shaking her head in disbelief as she approached the stage you and Adam stood atop. “You mean you did that on purpose? What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“Come on,” Adam groaned in annoyance, jumping down onto the floor before Charlie. “We were just messing around. We wanted to get a little revenge for Luci ruining our relationships.” 

“What?” Charlie’s brows furrowed in confusion, turning her attention to you as you stepped down from the stage, your angelic form disappearing in a flash of gold. “What is he talking about? What relationship?” 

You stilled at Charlie’s words. It seemed your hesitation caught the others’ attention, Charlie leaning in closer as she glared down at you. You growled in annoyance, turning your irritation on Adam. “Come on! They weren’t supposed to know!” 

“Oh, shit, my bad,” Adam held up his hands defensively, stepping back from you. Your attention was shifted back to Charlie as she urged an explanation from you, making you sigh in frustration. 

“Ch-Charlie, there was a reason I never said anything. I didn’t want to get in between you and your family, even if Lucifer and Lilith are split up. I didn’t want you to be mad at Lucifer, I—” 

“What are you saying?” Charlie cut you off, confusion written across her face. She didn’t understand. She didn’t want to understand, but she was already beginning to get somewhat of an idea. She knew what Lucifer did to you, abandoning you in the garden and running away with Lilith. But she didn’t even imagine that there was a whole other layer to it. She didn’t want it to be. 

“Charlie... Your dad and I were married,” You spoke softly, as if scared your words might harm her, scar her. She loved her father deeply and held him up on a high pedestal. She would often talk about how her parents met, and how she loved their love story, even if they were split up. You couldn’t bear to ruin that image, even if you were mad at Lucifer. 

Charlie’s eyes widened as she froze up. It almost felt as though her heart came to a halt in her chest, stilling the blood in her body. “Wh-What?” 

“I kept it a secret because I didn’t want to ruin the image of Lucifer that you have. Please don’t be mad at him, I—” 

“How could I not be mad!?” Charlie exclaimed. You looked up at her in surprise, your eyes going wide. You didn’t think you’d ever heard Charlie yell in the time you had spent in Hell. You almost didn’t think she was capable of getting genuinely angry. 

“All my life, I thought mom and dad had a perfect relationship,” Charlie paced back and forth, pulling her hair by the roots, something that had become a habit in times of stress. “Even when mom left, dad still stayed loyal, he wore her ring, he didn’t try to move on. I-I can’t believe he would do that! He’s such a fucking asshole!” 

“Babe, calm down...” Vaggie tried to plant Charlie in place, placing her hands on Charlie’s chest to keep her from pacing. Charlie growled in annoyance, sidestepping Vaggie as she continued to walk her anger off. 

“And you! How could you stay quiet about this?” Charlie looked down at you with a pleading look. “I deserved to know what kind of a man my dad is. I should have known what he did to you, what he...” 

Charlie trailed off, hiding her face in her hands. Her body shook slightly, the telling sign of the turmoil that lay just beneath the surface. Your heart broke at the sight of Charlie struggling to keep herself together, stepping toward her as you gently grabbed her wrists. 

Pulling her hands away to reveal her sorrowful face that had been soaked in tears, you gave her a soft smile, your thumbs caressing the palms of her hands to try and calm her. Charlie had been the only person aside from Adam to be friendly to you, the only demon down here that truly cared for you. You couldn’t stand to see her breaking down, not over something that was between you and Lucifer. 

“Charlie, despite what Lucifer did to me, he’s still a good person. He’s spent the last ten thousand years trying to make up for what he’s done, to make up for his past mistakes. I don’t want you to be mad at him, not when he’s putting so much effort into making a change,” You dropped Charlie’s hands to move to her shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Besides, isn’t the whole point of the hotel to atone and become a better person?” 

Charlie’s eyes seemed to widen at that, as if remembering her whole mission with the hotel. A soft chuckle bubbled within her, lifting her hand to wipe away the stray tears that remained. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

Charlie pulled you into a hug, momentarily surprising you before you returned it in full, holding her tightly. You felt her sigh shakily against you, releasing the remainders of her stress, before pulling away with a renewed smile. 

“You know, if you keep making progress like this, you’ll be redeemed in no time,” She said, making you chuckle. But your laughter died down as you turned your attention back to the door that Lucifer had stormed through not too long ago. 

“Maybe you should go check on him,” You said, gesturing toward the door. Charlie’s eyes followed your own, a soft hum on her lips as she mulled over it. She couldn’t help but still be slightly upset over the reveal of her father’s infidelity, having to remind herself that the whole point of her mission was to forgive those who did wrong. 

She looked down at you with a smile, holding her hand out for you to take. “Could you come with me?” 

You looked up to her, bright blue eyes going wide. You weren’t entirely sure you were ready to talk yet, still afraid that you might give in to your emotions and give him another chance. You were still afraid that he would take advantage of your weak emotional state and hurt you again. 

But the look Charlie gave you promised that she wouldn’t allow her father to hurt you, never again. So, despite your better judgement, you trusted her, placing your hand, and your emotional security, in her own. 

Leading you back into the hotel, you and Charlie went out to search for Lucifer. Finding his bedroom to be empty, the two of you made your way down into the lobby, surprised to find him just about to leave. Charlie called out to him, surprising him as he whipped around, a forced smile on his face. 

“Ah, Charlie! I was just about to head out, I—” 

Lucifer cut himself off upon seeing you beside Charlie. The forced smile immediately dipped into a frown, but he stayed in place as you and Charlie approached. He wanted more than anything to disappear from the world and never been seen again, especially as he felt your cold blue eyes meet his own. 

“Dad, there’s something we should talk about,” Charlie began, before taking a deep breath and looking at you. “Something you should talk about.” 

You looked up to her nervously, your heart thundering in your chest, especially as Charlie released your hand and stepped back, leaving you to stand alone before Lucifer. Your gaze landed on his eyes, bright red irises that you had always found alluring. You opened your mouth to say something, Lucifer doing the same, but nothing came out, no words were spoken. You could only look away, casting your stare onto the floor. 

Charlie seemed to notice the thick, tense air between you two, sighing deeply. A small smile pulled at her lips as her soft voice filled the lobby, catching the attention of you both. “Why don’t you talk to each other?” 

Charlie stepped toward you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and back, pushing you toward Lucifer. Both yours and Lucifer’s eyes widened at the sudden close proximity as Charlie continued. “Why don’t you talk to each other? Just give it a try,” 

Charlie grabbed her father’s hand, Lucifer’s eyes stuck glued to yours, giving you an almost fearful look. He jumped in his skin as he felt Charlie place his hand in yours, the touch of your corrupted angelic skin the exact same as he always remembered. “Why don’t you talk about what happened? I know you’re trying to avoid it, but I don’t know why,” 

“You might not believe it,” Charlie gave you a reassuring smile as she stepped back, leaving you in the presence of Lucifer. You glanced at the hand where you were connected with him, unable to help the heat that rushed to your cheeks, or the tears that began to well in your eyes. “You might not believe it, but you got a lot in common, you really do,” 

“You both love me, and I love both of you...” 

Lucifer sighed, his hand squeezing yours gently, taking in the way your soft palm felt under his thumb. He looked away, taking in a shaky breath as he forced his voice to work for him. “Look, if I were you, I’d hate me too.” 

“I don’t hate you...” You muttered, keeping your gaze on the floor as you held back your tears. Your throat squeezed tightly, trying to keep everything tightly wound up inside you, trying to hold yourself together. 

“Why not?” Lucifer looked up to you with wide eyes, as if begging you to hate him. Because it’d be easier for him to come to terms with you hating him, than for him to accept that you’ve moved on and don’t care anymore. “Y-You should hate me, you should want me dead,” 

You looked up to him in surprise, a stray tear escaping your eyes as you chuckled, your cheeks crinkling slightly. “I guess this place is just rubbing off on me. I got so tired of being mad, I just couldn’t bring myself to fight you anymore. I would rather just forgive you and move on.” 

“B-But—” Lucifer cut himself off, tears brimming in his eyes. He deserved to be hated, he was the most hated being in existence. It simply wasn’t fair, he hated that you forgave him before he forgave himself. He couldn’t forgive himself. He would never be able to. 

His eyes widened as he felt your hand on his cheek, wiping away the tears that he hadn’t realized escaped. He looked up to you in shock, trying to understand what was going through your head, why you were doing the things you did, the things that made him miss you even more. 

“If you wanted to, we could move on together. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust you again, but I trust Charlie, and I know she won’t let me get hurt here,” You chuckled softly, looking over at Charlie with a smile, before turning your attention back to Lucifer as you stepped closer to him. “You’ve raised a wonderful person, Lucifer. She’s the entire reason why I can forgive you. She’s the reason why I want to move on with you.” 

Lucifer stared up into your angelic eyes, his body shaking as tears streamed down his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, crashing into your arms as he held you like his life depended on it. “More than anything,” 

He looked up to you, his eyes glimmering in the lights of the hotel, his lips pulling into a soft smile. “I’d love it more than anything.” 

You giggled, grabbing hold of his hands, pulling him to a slow dance. Lucifer was practically beaming at you now, his tears streaming freely down his face as he chuckled, following along. 

Charlie couldn’t help the smile that graced her face, watching the scene before her unfold as she continued to sing, wiping away the tears that had fallen from her eyes as well. “I know you both need it, I know you both need it,” 

“Someone who knows what you’re going through,” 

Your laughter filled the room as Lucifer spun you around, the sound making his heart flutter. A chuckle escaped his lips, before he too was laughing, getting lost in the sounds of your joy. A sound he’d missed for far longer than he realized. 

“You might not believe it, you might not believe it, but you got a lot in common, you really do,” 

Your feet slowed to a stop as you looked down into Lucifer’s eyes, your hands moving to cup his cheeks. You leaned in, resting your forehead against his own, strands of your hair tickling his face. You felt him wrap his arms around your neck, his breath fanning your face as he sighed. 

“You both love me, and I love both of you...” 

“You have no idea how much I missed this,” Lucifer said, looking into your bright blue eyes. You smiled, moving to pull him into a hug. 

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” You muttered against his shoulder, basking in his presence. Perhaps this was the happy ending you had waited so long to get. It wasn’t perfect, but nothing was. Not even angels were perfect, as you had found out. But now, you wouldn’t have things any other way. Because now, you were finally happy. You could start anew, with the new friends you’ve made, with Lucifer. You were finally ready to let him back in. 

“You both love me, and I love both of you...”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

@christineblood, @jellyedkazoo, @sirenetheblogger, @charliesicedcoffee

#charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #Spotify

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

prompt #5 with conrad!! maybe reader and conrad are best friends but there's always been tension and one night they make out (maybe in the pool or on the dock?) but reader freaks out about it when she goes bed and decides the next day to act normal and pretend like it didn't happen so it doesn't make their relationship weird <3

This request is so old, I'm very sorry to the anon who sent it... I forgot to finish the ending and post

—

Ever since that silly spin the bottle game in Oliver’s basement when you were thirteen years old, you’ve been dying to kiss your best friend. You hadn’t realized what the fire of jealousy in your guts meant when you saw Penelope and Mariah kissing Conrad as a result of the game, but you did three years later when he told you about Aubrey. 

Their relationship didn’t last until summer. So, when the Fishers came back to Cousins, he was your Conrad again. 

That summer, you could write a full journal about the many almost-kisses, more-than-friends gestures and special attention between you and him.  

Unfortunately, nothing happened until two summers later. 

It was late, you and Conrad were sitting in his backyard, talking on the poolside with your feet dipping in the water. Sometimes you would have a night dip, but the moon was full above your heads, which added a chill to the night air.  

And then, it happened.

Conrad kissed you. The world around you blurred from the gentle way he was cupping your cheek as his lips pressed against yours, the chirp of the crickets fading into white noise, and for that brief moment, it was just the two of you. 

As you were sneaking back inside your house, you fought an urge to scream. It finally happened. Conrad had kissed you. Thirteen-years-old you would never believe it. You flopped down on your bed and squeezed your pillow, needing to exteriorize your excitement without waking your parents. 

You couldn't wait to see him again tomorrow. To greet him with a kiss and watch the look on your friends’ faces. 

What if that kiss was a mistake though? You both wanted it when it happened, but what if tomorrow Conrad regrets it? Or, what if you get together and then realize it’s not working and break up? No exes stay friends after breaking up. Your grin was immediately wiped from your face, the fear of losing Conrad settling in. 

You made sure to keep your distances the following day. You tried to not make it too obvious that Conrad would catch on, but just enough so he wouldn’t make another move on you. Even if you were yearning for another kiss. 

‘’Do you want to go on the boardwalk?’’ Conrad asked, leaning on the kitchen island as you were eating cherries from the fruit bowl. 

You nodded, swallowing before speaking. ‘’Sure. Who else is coming?’’ 

 ‘’Just me and you.’’ 

Suddenly, the boardwalk didn’t seem like a good idea. Being alone with Conrad didn’t seem like a good idea. 

‘’I don’t know…’’ you hesitated, glancing outside and seeing the bright sun. ‘’Isn’t it a bit hot to go on rides? I don’t want to get a heatstroke.’’ 

Conrad hummed. It wasn’t that hot, in his opinion, but he didn’t push. ‘’We could go in the pool? I think Steven and Jeremiah are already in there.’’

The four of you played volleyball for a bit. You usually teamed with Conrad, but you decided to switch and play with Jeremiah instead...which turned out to be a mistake. Your team wasn't doing great; Jeremiah was terrible at volleyball and you were much shorter than your opponents. You tried bringing up the unfair disadvantage, but Steven’s phone went off and he had to meet with Shayla. Jeremiah followed suit, seeing Belly was back from her debutante lesson. 

Which left you and Conrad alone. 

You felt him pass under the volleyball net and come up behind you, but you disappeared underwater and swam away. Unfortunately, your tactic must not have been as smooth as you thought because Conrad saw through your plan and called you out on it. 

‘’Is this what we do now? Making out and then never talking about it?’’ he questioned, sounding more disappointed than mad, which pinched your heart. 

You were caught off guard by his words, not expecting him to be so blunt. ‘’What do you want me to say?’’ you replied, your tone a pinch too defensive.

The pool's rippling water seemed to mirror the tension between you two. 

Conrad exhaled deeply. ‘’Why are you acting like nothing happened? Because last night you were pretty into it and now you’re pushing me away.’’ 

You closed your eyes, remembering his hand under your shirt as you were kissing by the poolside, groping and massaging your tits in a way that made your panties wet. You wanted to experience it again. 

‘’Last night was a mistake. We…we can’t.’’ You shook your head, stepping back as Conrad swam to you again. ‘’It’ll ruin our friendship and I don’t want to lose you as a friend—’’

‘’I don’t want us to be friends anymore. I want more.’’ He reached under the water to grab your hand. ‘’How many times do I have to say it until you get it?’’

—

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#conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher fanfic #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp imagine #tsitp

[ghosttotheparty]

a place where i belong

also on ao3 // 13k words cw: verbal abuse; gaslighting; family angst; smut/nsfw

He’s in the kitchen when he hears it. Standing by the sink and downing a painkiller, shoes on, jacket on, car keys in hand. He pauses when he hears it, hypervigilant as always, freezing without swallowing the gulp of water, the pill floating in his mouth for a moment as he realizes.

A car pulls into the driveway. 

He swallows, closing his eyes and sighing heavily, and he sets the glass in the sink. 

He’d forgotten they were coming back today. It’s been on the calendar, marked with a vague, innocuous red dot that he’d begun to look past, to look through, to ignore without meaning to. He’s been too focused on everything else, on his own messy handwriting reading Lucas basketball - 3pm and kids theater - noon and Max physical therapy - 1pm. His weekly hours are jotted down on a piece of paper that’s stuck to the wall next to the calendar, updated every Saturday evening. Robin’s handwriting is just as bad as his, but he’s gotten better at reading it, the same way she’s gotten better at reading his. 

Steve rests his back against the counter by the sink, taking a breath, steeling himself. He crosses his arms, clutching his keys in his hand so tightly the teeth bite into his palm. He looks at the ground. Follows the lines between the tiles with his eyes like he’s mapping out a maze. Or an escape.

He hears the front door open. Hears some shuffling, some muttering, the clunking of suitcases coming through the entryway. 

And then he hears, “Steven, your car is filthy, when was the last time you had it washed?”

 His eyes get stuck on a tile, at the corner of it. The tiles used to be a pristine, shining, sparkling white. When Steve was a little boy, they were always sparkling. Glistening. Always freshly mopped, scrubbed, waxed. They don’t look like that anymore. They’re dull now, still white but just barely grey. The one Steve is looking at has a crack in it. It’s a tiny crack, thin as a hair, branching off from the corner, but he sees it from where he’s standing. 

“A few weeks ago,” he says, even though he knows it’s been months. “I don’t know.” 

The house has aged with him, he thinks. His parents stopped making sure the floors were being taken care of when they started leaving. They stopped making sure the chimney was cleaned, the pool was cleaned, the walls were sturdy. Steve gave up on keeping everything in order when he started high school. When he started to question whether or not they were coming back at all instead of what day they’d show up. 

Steve stares at the tile. Traces the crack in it. 

“Steven, I paid good money for that car, I expect you to take care of it.”

He nods at the floor. 

Quiet. 

Good. 

He hates when they come home. It’s like the house gets a little colder, like the echoes of the kids’ laughter get sucked out the windows. Like the last burning embers in the fireplace have turned to ash. 

It doesn’t happen often, them coming home. But when it does…

“Goodness, this floor is filthy. We need to get these tiles replaced.” 

He blends into the walls. Turns to mist that they look right through. Fades back into the little boy he used to be, too small to look into his father’s eyes or to reach the liquor cabinet, quiet and well-behaved and good. 

They keep talking. He doesn’t hear his name. He keeps looking at the floor. He decides he likes the crack in that tile. He kind of wishes they were all like that. It took almost twenty years for that crack to appear, that tiny, thin crack. He wonders how many tiles there are in the whole room, wants to multiply that number by twenty. See if he’ll still be alive when they’re all like this one, damaged so subtly he has to look for it. He imagines it, the tiles grey and dusty with age, cracks spreading across them like a spiderweb across the floor. In his head, it’s beautiful. 

And then he remembers that they want to replace them now. Because they’re not as shiny as they used to be. 

Steve doesn’t feel very shiny. He doesn’t think he’s ever been shiny. 

They’re still talking. Steve exhales. 

His eyes find a scuff on his shoe. He blinks at it, trying to remember where it came from, and for an awful, awful second he thinks it’s from gym class, from basketball practice, from fucking around in alleyways, before he remembers. 

He thinks it’s from the Upside Down. From running, hiding, fighting. 

The keys bite into his palm, and he loosens his grip, inhaling sharply as his brain registers the pain. He looks at his hand, holding his fingers open to make sure he isn’t bleeding. He isn’t. His skin is red, indents from the teeth of the keys sharp in his skin, in the creases of his palms. 

Fuck. 

He looks at the clock across the room, and for a moment he wants to just leave silently, to walk right past them to the front door. But he doesn’t. 

“Uh,” he says, quietly enough that he isn’t really interrupting them. They both look at him, turning their heads a little but still glancing at him out of the sides of their eyes, and he finally looks at them. Sees them. They look older than he thought they did, lines around their eyes and mouths and on their foreheads. His father’s hair is mostly grey now, his mother's still dark red. It looks fake, just like the pearls around her neck. “I need to… go.”

“Go where?”

“To— To pick up some kids.” He stutters. He hates stuttering. “And take them home, I— I told their parents I’d get them home by six.”

Walter sneers. 

“Why are you driving children around?” he asks. But he isn’t really asking anything at all. He’s just… commenting. Like he always it. Your grades are shit. Your car is dirty. Why are you driving children around?

“I’m their babysitter,” Steve says. He used to hate that word. It felt so demeaning. He remembers his babysitters from when he was little, teenagers that only took the job for the money instead of for Steve, teenagers that would spend hours in the living room smoking or nursing beers and watching movies while Steve played by himself upstairs or in the corner. 

But he doesn’t mind it now. Being the babysitter. Driving the kids around. Making sure they’re okay, they’re safe and healthy and happy. Even though he tells them to shut up, he likes hearing their laughter and relentless bickering from the backseat. Even though he calls them little shits, he thinks he loves them. 

“Babysitter,” Walter repeats dryly. He’s making that face again. He’s always making that face at Steve. Like he smells, like he’s a stain on the carpet. Like he’s a dirty floor tile. Walter sighs, shaking his head like he’s disappointed. “We’re going to need to discuss your career plans, Steven, you can’t go on with your life babysitting.” 

Steve stares at him blankly. He won’t meet Steve’s eye. 

He’s wearing a suit. He’s always wearing a suit. Steve can’t remember the last time he saw him in anything else. 

And now, come to think of it, Steve can’t remember the last time he saw him. 

It’s been months that they’ve been away. Months since they’ve stepped through the front door into the boring entryway, through the boring hallway, into the boring kitchen. With no greeting, no Hi, Steve, how’ve you been? No We missed you, how are your friends? What happened with the earthquakes and the serial killer? Are you okay?

Nothing. 

A comment about the dirt on Steve’s car, and the dull floor tiles, and Steve’s future career. He wonders if they even know what color his eyes are. 

“Right,” he says finally, his hand clenching around the keys again. “Well, I’d love to have that conversation with you, but I really need to go, so…”

“We just got home,” Catherine says sharply, looking at him from where she’s sitting at the table, unbuckling her high heels. “You haven’t seen us in months, Steven, and this is how you greet us?” 

Steve looks at her. At her hair. It’s stiff with hairspray, piled up on top of her head in fake curls. Her makeup is creasing in her wrinkles, and her lipstick is faded around the center of her lips. Steve blinks. 

“I didn’t know you were going to be here right now,” he says carefully. “And I already told the kids’ parents I’d have them home by six, it should only take a few minutes.” He pauses, looking at her but feeling Walter’s eyes on him. Like he’s analyzing him, looking for faults. He can’t see the scars under Steve’s shirt. “I can’t just leave them there,” he says, pausing, thinking about how worried the kids would be. How they’d blow up the walkies trying to contact him, calling Eddie and Robin and even Nancy to ask if they know where he is, if they’ve heard from him. But he knows Walter would just laugh. “I’m responsible for them,” he finishes. 

And he starts toward the door. 

“When did you turn into such a little adult?” Catherine says lightly behind him, teasing. Careless. 

He stops walking, fist tightening on the keys again. He’s facing the doorway, and the room is quiet except for the soft shuffling of her shoe on the ground as she undoes the buckle. And he feels like his whole body is aching and sore, because he was nine. 

The first time they left him home alone. It was just a few days while they went to Indianapolis, but he remembers how quiet the house was. How he suddenly missed the smell of cigarettes and weed, how he missed the indistinct chatter of the television, of his babysitters’ voices muffled through the walls while they talked to their friends on the phone. He sat on the stairs for a while after hearing their car pull out of the driveway. Like he was waiting. 

He realized after a few hours that without a babysitter, he could go outside. It was his first time outside without supervision. 

He just tried to catch the fireflies. 

Steve turns around and looks at them. They’re both looking back at him, eyebrows raised curiously at the way he stopped short, at the way he froze. 

“Probably when I turned into an actual adult,” he says, his voice quieter than he intends. 

Walter scoffs. 

Steve feels like he just plunged into Lovers’ Lake again. Ice cold all over, in the dark. Eyes straining to see what’s ahead of him. 

“You’re an adult when you finish high school, Steven. You’re a child.”

Steve blinks. 

His gaze shifts over to him, to that fucking expression, at the earnestness in his eyes. The fucking ignorance. And Steve, inexplicably, laughs.

It’s a short laugh, but it’s almost hysterical, and he really just doesn’t know how the fuck else to react, to respond. They’re looking right at him. And they can’t see the age in his eyes, in his height, his face. They don’t even know him. He’s a stranger in their house. 

They’re strangers too. 

“I’m an adult, Dad,” Steve says dryly after the laugh, still half-smiling, even as the expression on Walter’s face deepens. Condescending, and mean, and judging, and even with the grey hair and the wrinkles, he’s the same man that Steve used to look up at as a child. “I graduated high school,” Steve says before Walter can say anything. “Two years ago.” 

Walter blinks, making a face and looking at Catherine, who just raises an eyebrow at Steve. 

“You were in Italy,” Steve says, trying as hard as he can to remain light, nonchalant, to keep his voice soft and sweet and quiet and good. “I sent you an invitation to the ceremony.”

“Oh, Steven, you know we never check our main when we’re abroad,” Catherine says lightly. 

Steve looks at her. The faux kindness in her eyes. The smile gracing her red lips. Like it’s Steve's fault. Like he’s a child.

He hates her. 

“Right,” he says softly, nodding slowly, looking away. “Silly me.”

“So you think finishing high school makes you a grown-up?” Walter says, amused. Steve looks at him. 

“Isn’t that what you just said?”

“...Steven, you have no idea what it means to be an adult.”

Steve looks at him. At his face. The condescending shine in his eye, like he’s talking to a kid, like Steve isn’t his height. (Maybe taller. He’s too far away to tell right now.) 

Stranger. Stranger. Stranger. 

Steve nods. Puts his keys down. 

“I’ll be back in a second.”

The phone is in the living room, near the doorway, and he closes his eyes as he picks it up, taking a deep breath before he dials the number he memorized within a day of learning it. 

“Munsons.”

“Hey,” Steve says quietly. “Uh, would it be cool if you picked the kids up from the arcade for me?”

“The arcade…” Eddie repeats, his voice more distant like he’s leaning away from the phone. “Weren’t you getting them today? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve lies easily. But Eddie’s always able to know when he’s lying. Steve doesn’t know how he does it. Every time Steve lies that he’s fine, that No, my head doesn’t hurt, and I didn’t have a nightmare, I just wanted to get some water, and I feel fine. Eddie just… looks at him. 

“Steve.”

And Steve always breaks. Lets the brick wall between them crumble to dust. 

“Uh.” He pauses, glancing down the hall. He feels like they’re listening. “My parents came back a minute ago. We’re talking.”

“Oh, shit,” Eddie says. “Is everything okay? Do you need backup?” 

Steve smiles into the phone, closing his eyes as his stomach flutters. 

“No, just… It’ll be fine. We’re just talking.”

Eddie is quiet for a moment, and Steve can practically hear the gears in his head turning. 

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll get the little shits, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” Steve says, taking a deep breath. “Thank you, Eddie.”

“‘Course, Stevie.” Steve’s stomach flutters again. “Good luck with your parents.”

“Thanks.”

They hang up. Steve presses his face to the wall for a moment, taking a slow breath before he exhales. 

He goes back to the kitchen. 

Leans against the counter by his keys. Crosses his arms and looks at the floor. Finds the cracked tile and stares at it. 

It feels farther away now. Like he’s gotten taller. 

“You don’t think I know what it means to be an adult,” he says. 

“No, Steven,” Walter says lightly. Jovially. Condescendingly. “I think you’ve lived a very sheltered life. You haven’t seen the world, or experienced anything that could push you into adulthood. But that’s okay,” he adds like it’s reassuring. “You’re fortunate, you know.”

Steve's jaw twitches. He grinds his teeth. Stares at the tile, then the scuff on his shoe. 

“Do you wanna know what I think?” Steve asks quietly. 

Walter scoffs again. 

The sound grates at the inside of Steve’s skull, and his stomach twists. His lungs feel constricted, like they’re too tight. 

“What do you think?” Walter asks. His voice is gentle, so gentle it sounds like he’s talking to a five-year-old, humoring him, playing along. Steve lifts his head and levels a gaze on him. 

And across the kitchen, in the soft late afternoon sunlight, Steve looks at his wrinkles and his grey hair and his goddamn suit, and he’s just a man. And Steve wonders how the fuck he used to look up to this man, how the fuck he used to think he was anything more than this.

“I think you don’t know shit about me,” Steve says softly. 

Walter’s eyes widen, and he tilts his head in shock as Catherine lets out an Excuse me!

Steve nods, staring, and staring, and staring, and he can’t look away. 

“I think you don’t know shit about me,” he says again. “I think I have been… through hell. And you weren’t here.”

“Steven—”

“You weren’t here,” Steve snaps, his voice a little louder. He uncrosses his arms and stands up straight, and he thinks he is taller than his father. His stomach twists again. “You wanna know when I became a little adult, Mom?” 

She stares at him, eyes wide. 

“I became a little adult when you left me home alone to fend for myself,” he says forcefully. “When I was a child. And I should have been off playing with my friends, and memorizing multiplication tables, and getting my knees scraped on the pavement.” His heart is pounding now, and he can barely hear himself over it. “I wasn’t doing any of that. I was learning how to fucking cook, because there was no one else to do that for me. I was learning how to reset the heat in the house, and I was growing up when I shouldn’t have been.” 

“So you’ve been through hell because you had to learn how to use the stove,” Walter says dryly. Steve looks at him. 

“God, you really have no idea who I am, Dad.”

“I’m your father,” Walter says, an amused smile teasing his lips. 

“Is that what you call yourself?” Steve asks. “Is that what you tell people? That you’re a father? Because, I…” He scoffs and shakes his head, and maybe he’s more like his father than he’d hoped he’d be, but he doesn’t care right now. “I gotta tell you, man, that’s gonna be really misleading when people hear that.”

“You don’t think I’m your father,” Walter says. He’s starting to get angry, and a part of Steve feels vindicated. Good.

“No,” Steve breathes. 

“How on Earth is he not?” Catherine interrupts, and Steve had almost forgotten that she’s even here, looking up at them from the chair she’s sitting in. “You have his DNA.”

“Right,” Steve says. “So we’re related. Biologically.” He looks back at Walter, and they’re closer than he thought they were, but he can't tell how close they really are. Concussions and trauma do wonders to one’s depth perception. “You didn’t raise me.”

“I didn’t raise you?” Walter says, his cheeks flushing red. Something in Steve cheers. 

“No,” Steve says calmly. “You left me alone with teenagers that didn’t know shit about how to take care of children, and you left me home alone. By myself. In the middle of the fucking woods.”

“You weren’t that young, Steve—”

“I was nine.” He looks at Catherine, silencing her. “I remember.” He looks back at Walter. Their eyes meet. They have the same eye color. Steve hates it. “Fathers know their children,” he says. “You don’t know me.”

“Of course I know you,” Walter snaps. “You’re my son, Steven, how could I not—”

“How old am I?”

The room falls quiet. 

Steve stares back as Walter looks at him. He can hear his own heartbeat, his own breaths. The water tapping in the sink. A bird chirping outside. 

And he nods. 

“You don’t know me,” he says quietly. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“You’re still our son,” Catherine says haughtily.

“...When’s my birthday?” he asks. When they’re silent, he says, “What am I allergic to? What’s my favorite color? Who’s my best friend?”

“The Hagan kid,” Walter says, like it’s an accomplishment, answering one question incorrectly. 

“I haven’t talked to Tommy Hagan in three years,” Steve says. “And you didn’t know that.”

Walter huffs and rolls his eyes. 

“How was I supposed to know that?” he mutters. “Look, Steven, this…” He gestures aimlessly at Steve, making a face. “Your favorite color, your friend’s name, they don’t matter.” He laughs lightly, dismissively. “You wanna be treated like an adult, but these are the things you care about, Steven, they’re irrelevant.”

“It doesn’t matter that they’re irrelevant, Dad,” Steve snaps, his voice louder. “It matters that you don’t care. I’m your kid, you should care about the things I like, and— and about my friends, and about my fucking birthday.”

“Don’t you raise your voice at me,” Walter says, his eyes darkening with anger, and Steve aches. 

When he was six, he was watching Looney Tunes on the television on a Saturday morning. He laughed a little too loud, and he was sent to his room for the rest of the day. Because his father needed quiet to focus on his work. Walter’s always hated hearing Steve speak, so Steve has kept quiet. Seen and not heard. Fading in the background, hiding in plain sight. But Steve is fucking sick of being looked through. Ignored. 

“No,” he says, shaking his head, almost on the verge of delirious laughter. “No, I’m gonna raise my voice at you. Because I’m pissed, and because you never had a problem raising your voice at me.”

“You were a child—” 

“So that made it fine? To yell at me? To tell me to keep my fucking mouth shut? That’s all fine to tell a child?” He stares at Walter. “You wanna talk about the shit that actually matters, fine. Let’s talk about the shit that actually matters.”

He’s shaking now, breathing hard and trembling with twenty years of anger that's boiling and spilling over his edges. 

“You guys know about Hawkins,” he says, crossing his arms and looking at the floor, avoiding their gazes as he takes a breath. 

“About Hawkins,” Walter repeats. 

“Hawkins, yeah,” Steve says. “The shitshow that is my hometown, you know all the shit that’s happened here, right? The missing kids, the— the fires, the lab.”

“Of course we know everything about this town, Steven,” Catherine says curtly. “We’ve lived here twenty years.”

“You really haven’t,” Steve says lightly. “But that’s fine. You know about everything.” He pauses, gathering his thoughts. “You know the girl that went missing?” he asks, looking up at them. “Barbara. And the whole conspiracy with the lab and the chemical spill and everything.”

“Yes,” Walter says. “We heard about all of that.”

They’re both staring at him curiously now, quiet while he looks back. 

“Yeah,” Steve says softly. “I was involved in all of that.” He watches their confusion deepen the wrinkles on their faces. “She was my ex-girlfriend’s best friend. She went missing from here, from—” He gestures out the window, toward the pool that’s covered with a blue tarp. The water is probably swimming with dead leaves. 

“You know anything about Billy Hargrove?” 

Catherine blinks. 

“The… The boy that passed away in the fire,” she says slowly, remembering. “At the mall.”

The fire. 

“The boy,” he mutters to himself before he bites his lip, pausing. “Yeah. The year before he ate shit, he almost fucking killed me.” 

They both blink at him, blank. 

“And he tried to kill me,” he continues, “because I stopped him from killing a thirteen-year-old.” He takes a shuddering breath, uncrossing his arms, looking at them, and his vision wavers as he remembers it, as he remembers the glass smashing over his head, the floor against his back, Billy’s laughter. The kids’ shouting. “He beat… the shit out of me. Gave me a grade four concussion.”

He looks back at forth between them, waiting for a reaction, but they keep staring. Catherine’s eyes are wide, but Walter just looks angry. Like Steve is wasting his time. 

“It took me three weeks to recover from it,” he says. “And you were in fucking Spain.”

His voice shakes. 

“The mall fire,” he continues before they can say anything. “You know about it. Fourth of July, thirty dead.” 

“Yes,” Catherine says softly. 

“Take a wild fucking guess where I was.”

Silence. 

Until Catherine’s voice says quietly, “...The mall.”

“Inside,” Steve says softly, looking at her intently. “With my friends, with the kids I babysit— and it wasn’t just a— a fucking fire.” He takes a shaky breath. “I can’t tell you what really happened, because I signed a goddamn nondisclosure agreement—”

“Steven, what—” 

“But I can tell you,” he interrupts loudly. “That I got the shit beaten out of me again.” 

A flash of light. A fist cracking against his face. An ache in his ribs, a sharp pain in the side of his neck. His own voice, rough from screaming, broken and pleading. 

“Another grade four concussion. The medics asked for my home number so one of you could come to pick me up,” he says, his throat tightening, his eyes stinging. “And I had to tell him that you were in Chicago for a fucking business trip.” His breath shudders, and his vision blurs, and his hands are trembling as he gestures aimlessly, pointing to nothing. “I was driven home by a fucking government agent, because you weren’t here.” 

“Steven—”

“You heard about the kids in town that were murdered?” he says, his voice breaking, tears sparking his eyes. “The kids that were fucking… broken?”

“...Of course we heard about them.”

Steve exhales shakily. 

“...There was a serial killer loose in town,” he says, fingers curling into fists. “And you never even called.” 

“We were working,” Walter snaps. 

“You’re always fucking working,” Steve says strongly. “I got used to you not being around, but it didn’t make it any fucking easier. You weren’t here when I had concussions, when I couldn’t fucking see, or when my hearing started going, you weren’t here when I could barely move because my injuries were infected, you were never fucking here.”

“Oh, Lord,” Walter says, rolling his eyes and scoffing, glancing at Catherine. Steve’s stomach twists, and he can’t see clearly. Everything is too bright, swimming in his tears. “How were we supposed to know you were hurt?” 

Hurt. 

He makes it sound so… little. Like Steve had a papercut. Like he needed a band-aid and a kiss on his forehead to feel better. 

“That’s not what I’m saying, Dad,” Steve says adamantly. “Obviously you wouldn’t fucking know, that’s not the problem— The problem is that you weren’t here for any of it, for anything I’ve gone through, and even when you knew what the fuck was happening in this town you couldn’t even be bothered to call, to— to make sure I was okay.”

“You said you’re an adult, didn’t you?”

Steve exhales. 

He doesn’t feel like an adult right now. 

He feels like a child. Like he’s five years old, searching for his parents’ attention, their affection, anything. Like they’re looking past him, through him, ignoring him in the hopes that he finally shuts up. 

Seen and not heard. 

Seen and not heard.

“You said you signed a nondisclosure agreement,” Walter says. “Let’s say you really did— You have to be eighteen for contracts to be legally binding. So you’re an adult.” Walter looks into his eyes, like he’s sizing him up. “You shouldn’t need mommy and daddy to take care of you.”

Steve’s lip quivers. He blinks tears back. And he’s stuck here. A kindergartener in the body of a twenty-year-old, the way he was thirty when he was twelve. Unmoving. 

Walter scoffs again, looking at Steve trying not to cry.

“Are you done with your little temper tantrum?” he asks dryly, turning slightly. “It was a long trip back, I’d like to take a shower and rest.”

And Steve longs to tell them. About the monsters, the dark, the flickering and flashing lights. About the Upside Down. To show them the scars that cover his skin. 

“You weren’t here when I was a child, either,” Steve says, stopping him before he can leave, and Walter turns with a heavy sigh, giving Steve a bored look. Steve’s fists tighten. His nails bite into his palms. 

“Steven,” Catherine says, standing from the table like she’s bored too. “That’s quite enough.”

“You weren’t here when I was injured,” Steve says shakily, his vision blurring again. “You weren’t here when I was concussed, and when I couldn’t see, and you weren’t here when I turned twenty, or when I graduated high school, and you weren’t here when I learned how to ride a bike, or how to swim, and you weren’t here when I got my first A, and you weren’t here for parent-teacher conferences— I went by myself,” he adds roughly, gesturing at himself, hitting his own chest. 

“Steven—”

“You weren’t here when I had nightmares or when I got sick, I took care of myself.”

“It made you strong—”

“I was a child!” 

He’s never raised his voice at them like this. Never yelled. But he’s crying now, tears falling freely down his cheeks as they stare like he’s grown another head, and he can’t help it. 

“I didn’t need to be strong,” he shouts. “I needed to be loved, and I fucking wasn’t.” 

“How…” Catherin huffs, her face red, and Steve looks at her, taking a hiccuping breath. “You think we didn’t love you,” she says. “But we provided a roof over your head, and—” 

“A roof wasn’t enough,” he says, holding back a sob. “I used to— I used to wait after school, fucking waiting for you to come get me, to— to drive me home, I used to watch all the other kids with their moms and dads, I used to watch them laugh, and smile, and hug them, and I fucking waited for you. I waited until nighttime once, and you never fucking came.” 

“Steven, that’s just irresponsible,” Walter says, and Steve hiccups. 

“I was nine,” he says. “I waited for you, all I fucking wanted was my parents to drive me to school, and you were off in fucking Paris or wherever the hell you were. I had to teach myself how to ride a bike, and I had to take myself, because you weren’t here—”

“I have responsibilities—”

“I was your responsibility,” Steve finally screams. “I was your son.”

He takes a gasping breath as they stare at him again, and he wipes his face so roughly it hurts. 

“I missed you,” he chokes. “I needed you.”

“You clearly didn’t need us that much,” Walter says, huffing, gesturing at him. His wedding band sparkling in the sun and Steve wants to melt it. “If you’re doing just fine now.”

“I’m not,” Steve says before he can stop himself. 

He’s never said it before. That he’s not fine. Even when he was concussed, when Robin was concerned, he insisted he was okay. It doesn’t hurt that bad, Robbie, don’t worry. And he went home. Turned off the lights. Covered the windows. Laid in bed. Cried. 

It’s some cruel, cruel irony that these are the first people to know. 

“I’m so fucking far from fine,” Steve says. He covers his face for a moment, and for a brief second, he wishes he was bruised, purple and blue and bloody. He doesn’t know why. Maybe so they could fucking see it. So they’d believe him. 

“...The first time my best friend said I love you to me, I laughed.” He looks at them, and he suddenly wants to crumple to the floor, to lean against the wall, to go to bed. Exhausted. “I never fucking heard it from you guys. Never heard it from my girlfriend. I didn’t know how to respond. Didn’t know what it fucking meant.”

He looks at them across the room. They’re both near the doorway of the kitchen, both turned slightly toward each other like they’re leaving, hesitating to watch Steve. Like he’s putting on a performance, like he’s pretending.

“You really fucked me up,” he says weakly, tiredly. 

 They’re quiet for a moment. And he doesn’t know what he expects. An apology. We’re sorry, Steve, we’ll be better parents from now on. We’ll be present in your life. 

“I really don’t like the language you’ve been using today, Steven,” Catherine says. Ignoring him. The tears on his face. “It’s really no way to speak to your parents.”

But he supposes he should have seen this coming. The deflection. 

He looks away, blinking tears back and exhaling, but before he can say anything, a car pulls into the driveway. He turns to look out the window, wiping his face as he catches the end of Eddie’s van before it’s hidden from view, and in spite of it all, he smiles. 

That was quick. 

He should have anticipated Eddie coming over as soon as he could. He probably sped on the way here. 

“Who…” Walter starts, but he’s interrupted by the front door swinging open. The doorknob hits the wall with a muffled bang, and a moment later, Eddie appears behind in the entry to the kitchen.

Walter and Catherine part, looking him up and down, looking, scandalized, at the rips in his jeans, the swords on his t-shirt that form an upside down star, at his hair. And he isn’t even wearing a jacket or any jewellery, and Steve’s stomach flutters with the realization that Eddie really didn’t waste any time. 

Eddie’s eyes find Steve, and he crosses the room, pushing past Walter. 

“Are you okay?” he asks Steve quickly, his eyes scanning over his face, his body, lingering on the tear tracks on his cheeks. “Did they touch you?”

“No,” Steve says softly, wiping his face again, and Eddie’s eyes follow the movement. Steve thinks he must be holding himself back; usually after nightmares, he wipes Steve’s tears for him, the same way Steve wipes his. “No, I just…”

Eddie exhales, looking into Steve’s eyes, looking for a lie. He’s out of breath, like he ran here instead of drove, and Steve smiles weakly. Until Walter interrupts. 

“Who the hell do you think you are,” he says forcefully, and Eddie and Steve turn to look at him. “Coming into my house.”

Eddie looks back and forth between Walter and Catherine like he’s trying to memorize them both, scanning their clothing the way they scanned his. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his lips are pursed, and even though from here Steve can’t really see him, there’s a warm pit in his stomach, because Eddie’s so beautiful, and he came for Steve, and he’s stepping forward a little bit like Walter is going to try to lay a hand on Steve, and Steve’s never felt so fucking safe before, and he doesn’t know what to do with this, and—

Catherine gasps. Steps back with a slight stumble even though she’s not wearing her high-heels anymore. Clutches at her pearls. 

“You’re that boy,” she says, touching Walter’s arm and pulling. “That Hellfire boy, you—”

“Eddie didn’t do anything,” Steve interrupts, his stomach dropping, but Walter recognizes him too, and he turns red, glancing at Steve and then looking back at Eddie. 

“Get out of my house,” he says, his voice too loud, and Steve feels so fucking small, and he hates feeling small.

But Walter starts toward Eddie when he doesn’t say anything, and Steve remembers suddenly that he isn’t small anymore. 

He steps in front of Eddie, knocking Walter’s hand aside before he presses his fingertips to his chest, pushing him back gently. Walter stares, wide-eyed, red-faced. 

“You lay a finger on him,” Steve says too calmly, “and I will fucking kill you.”

Walter blinks, shock coloring his face darker before he laughs, but it’s a forced laugh, and Steve’s never been more serious in his life, his hands shaking with adrenaline, his heart pounding, and Walter doesn’t seem to know that Steve will do whatever the fuck he needs to for Eddie. 

“You think you can kill me, Steven?” Steve looks into his eyes. 

He’s smaller than Steve. Not by much, but when Steve lifts his chin, he has to look down at him to hold eye contact. 

“We just had a whole conversation about how little you know me,” he says quietly. “Do you really wanna fucking test me?”

He hears Eddie exhale behind him, but he doesn’t look away, staring into Walter’s eyes, challenging him, and his hands almost itch. He hasn’t had any fights in a good long while. 

Walter looks past him, breaking eye contact, staring Eddie down now, but his eyes flicker like he’s looking across Eddie’s face, analyzing him. Steve knows what he’s looking at. The scar on his cheek, the mangled skin. Steve loves that scar. It had to be stitched together, but it makes Steve think of the constellation Cassiopeia, almost W-shaped. He longs to trace it someday. To thank it. 

Walter backs up finally, and Steve exhales, watching him go back across the room to stand with Catherine, who’s still watching, wide-eyed, a hand on her chest over her heart. 

“Sickening, Steven,” Walter says, shaking his head and glaring at Eddie. “Really. I thought I raised you to associate yourself with better—”

“You didn’t raise me,” Steve interrupts. “Stop… acting like you were some fantastic fucking father that a fucking stand-up job of raising a son, you didn’t do shit.” He stares, breathing hard, his back tingling with some sort of anticipation. “I did. Not you.”

“So you think you’re so independent?” Walter says with that awful fucking laugh again. 

“I had to be,” Steve says softly. Eddie is closer now, still behind Steve, but less like Steve is protecting him, and more like Eddie is here. “You didn’t give me a choice.”

Walter looks at him. At Eddie. He’s holding the back of a chair, exasperated, and he shakes his head. 

“Never thought I’d be so disappointed in my own son.”

Steve looks away, hesitating. 

“Eddie.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says softly. His voice is so kind. 

“...Can you go upstairs and pack me a bag?”

“‘Course.”

Eddie touches the small of his back gently as he passes by toward the entryway, where he passes Walter and Catherine with a faux polite nod that’s so on brand for Eddie that Steve wants to smile. 

Walter glares at Steve while Eddie goes upstairs, and Steve can hear him breathing heavily. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw him this angry. 

And then Walter is standing up straight abruptly, muttering something about fucking trash in my house under his breath as he leaves the kitchen, and Steve’s stomach drops as he follows, his vision blurring as his blood courses in his veins, fingers twitching. But instead of going up the stairs, Walters passes by them, headed toward the master bedroom, and Steve stops, watching. He scoffs when he realizes where he’s headed, and he leans against the wall. He hears a thump upstairs. 

“Steven, you really…” Catherine shakes her head in disappointment. She’s got her arms crossed, twisting the plastic pearls of her necklace. “This is all very disrespectful.”

Steve looks down at her. 

“...You think you deserve my respect?” he asks quietly. She looks at him like she’s alarmed. “You think I care if you think you do?”

He looks away before she can respond.

Eddie is coming down the top steps just as Walter appears again. 

Steve looks up at Eddie.

He’s carrying a duffel bag on his shoulder, carrying the nail bat in one of his hands, and he raises an eyebrow as Walter yells at Steve from across the room. 

“Where is it?”

“Nowhere you’ll find it,” Steve says lightly, lifting a hand to catch the bat as Eddie tosses it to him as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. Walter is huffing, and puffing, and it’s kind of ridiculous now. 

“What’s he looking for?”

“Gun.”

“Ah.” Eddie is almost smiling. The gun is in the back of his van, taken for target practice when Nancy taught Robin how to shoot.

Steve turns back into the kitchen to grab his keys, swinging the bat. It scratches the tile floor. When he turns back around, Walter and Catherine are staring at it, at the rusted nails and the blood-stained wood. 

“What the hell…”

Steve swings it again, moving his keys so he’s holding the one for his car between his fingers. 

“You don’t know me.”

Eddie is by the door with the duffel bag when Steve gets to the hallway, and he looks into Steve’s eyes. The light is dimmer now. The sun’s starting to go down. 

“Come to my place, yeah?” Eddie says softly, touching Steve’s arm gently, his thumb brushing over the fabric of his jacket before he squeezes. His eyes are shining earnestly, and Steve’s chest aches. He nods. 

They both step out onto the porch. It’s cold out, the air biting at Steve’s face, but it feels refreshing, like inside the house was stuffy and claustrophobic, like he’d been trapped under a blanket for too long. Eddie goes to the van, tossing the duffel bag in as he gives Steve one more look. 

“Is there anything else we don’t know about you?” Walter says behind Steve, who turns to look at him again. 

Walter’s eyes are lingering on Steve’s arm, like he can see Eddie’s handprint on it, and then he looks into Steve’s eyes, shining with disgust and judgement and hatred, and Steve

doesn’t

fucking 

care. 

“You’ll never get to know,” he says quietly. 

And he leaves. 

He’s vaguely aware of Catherine saying something, her voice high-pitched and wavering, and Walter shouting something about the car, but Steve ignores them, blank and empty as he gets into the car and pulls out of the driveway. He glances at the house in the rearview mirror as he leaves. It occurs to him that with the location of it, hidden by trees, away from town, Steve could live in Hawkins all his life and never have to look at the house again. 

He smiles. 

Eddie and Wayne live in an apartment in town now. It’s two floors above a cafe that opened a little after Starcourt, and sometimes when Steve is going to the door, he smells coffee and baking pastries. It’s nice. 

He doesn’t smell it at this time of night, though. 

He and Eddie arrive around the same time, and they’re quiet as Steve parks next to the van, grabs the bat and silently follows Eddie to the door. Eddie leads him in, up the narrow stairs, and they’re quiet as he unlocks the apartment, as they step inside and kick their shoes off. Steve leaves the bat resting against the wall by the door in Eddie’s room, and Eddie tosses him his bag. 

Steve looks into it, rummages through the bunched-up, hastily-packed underwear, jeans, shirts, sweaters. His fingers brush cold cans that he recognizes as his hairspray, and he smiles, his stomach fluttering because Eddie remembered where they were. 

“Steve,” Eddie says softly. He’s leaning against his dresser. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve says easily. 

“Steve,” Eddie says again, almost whispering. 

“I am, Eddie,” Steve says, looking up at him, his hands falling still on top of the bag. Eddie’s eyes are shining with concern, and his arms are crossed. “I really…” He trails off, looking at the ground. 

It’s hardwood, the wood faded and creaky, and there are a few gaps between the floorboard. He can see the nails in them, shining in the dim light of Eddie’s room, and it makes Steve think about the tiles in the kitchen at his parents’ house. Faded and dull and cracked because they’ve been walked on. Used. 

“I feel great,” he says, looking back at Eddie, half-smiling. 

Eddie’s expression softens. 

“Just tired,” Steve adds, looking away. “I haven’t… cried. In a while.”

“You wanna lay down?”

Steve hesitates. 

“...Can I borrow a sweater?”

Eddie smiles. 

“‘Course, Stevie.”

Steve likes it when he calls him that. 

It makes him feel little, but not in the way his parents make him feel. Not little like a little boy, like he has to stay quiet, stay still, like he can’t ask for a second serving of dinner or turn the volume of the television up past three in case he pisses them off. 

Little like Eddie will take care of him. 

Which he does, even though he has no idea how it really affects Steve, how it makes butterflies erupt in his belly every time he touches him, every time he calls him Stevie. He has no idea how hard Steve is crushing on him, and a part of Steve hates him for it. For how sweet he is, how kind. 

Because there are nights he’ll call after a nightmare and Steve will look out at the moon while he listens to him cry, while he listens to Eddie tell him he called because in the dream he lost Steve, because he needed to make sure he was okay. 

Because Eddie touches him in ways no one else does, in ways no one else ever has. In ways Steve wouldn’t ever let anyone. 

He blushes every time he remembers that night, the night he’d spent after staying up too late watching movies with Eddie. He’d had a gruesome nightmare, but as soon as his eyes opened he couldn’t remember what had happened. But Eddie was there, tentatively touching his hand, eyes wide awake, saying Stevie. Stevie. I’m right here. You’re okay. And Steve had just cried, reaching out to Eddie, who took him in his arms. 

He held Steve until he stopped crying. And then he kept holding him. Steve had pushed his face into Eddie’s chest, gripping his shirt, listening intently to Eddie’s heartbeat. It was a little fast, but it still helped. 

And then Eddie pushed a hand into Steve's hair. 

Steve was already falling asleep, and he had let out a soft hum. Eddie pulled his hand away, apologizing. 

Sorry, I know you don’t like your hair being touched.

And even half-asleep, Steve spoke. 

Only you. Please.

Eddie pushed his hand back into his hair gently. Steve hummed. Eddie’s fingers twisted around the strands carefully as his other hand slid up Steve’s back, and Steve just fucking melted. He let out a whine that he could barely hear, and Eddie’s fingers curled into a fist, gripping his hair in a tightening fist until it almost hurt, and Steve groaned. 

Too hard?

Mm. Feels good.

Eddie kept doing it until Steve fell asleep, pulling his hair, squeezing his fist in it, tugging until Steve’s scalp ached dully, and when Steve woke up, Eddie was still asleep, his hand still in Steve’s hair. And then it was normal, every time they slept in the same bed or sat too close on the sofa during movie nights, Eddie’s fingers would find Steve’s hair again.  

They both change. Eddie tosses Steve some sweatpants along with the sweater, and Steve smiles, glancing up at Eddie as he changes, facing away from Steve. He’s paler than Steve, and Steve kind of wants to see what their skin would look like side-by-side, pressing close. His scars are mesmerizing. Steve wants to trace them with his fingertips, with his lips and tongue. 

Eddie beckons to Steve when they’re climbing into his bed, and Steve sighs. They move into their normal position, Eddie leaning against the wall, Steve between his legs, back to his chest. 

He feels little again. 

Eddie’s arms wrap around him, hugging him tightly, and Steve lets his head fall back to his shoulder, sighing. He slides his hands over Eddie’s forearms. He’s wearing a sweatshirt, and the fabric is soft. Steve plays with one of the folds, looking around the room, and he realizes they haven’t communicated at all about how long Steve is staying here. 

His bag is on the floor by the dresser. It blends right in with Eddie’s dark clothes littered around the floor and hanging out of his drawers, with the dark rug that Eddie bought when he moved in. 

Steve’s eyes trail across the wall, across the sliding doors of the wardrobe that are partially open, the interior hidden in shadows. At the CORRODED COFFIN tapestry that’s pinned up, the Judas Priest poster on the back of the door. The photos and magazine pages and posters that are covering the old, faded wallpaper. Eddie’s lamps have a golden glow, and it makes everything look warm. Steve loves it here. 

“How long am I staying here?” Steve asks softly, and Eddie snorts, arms tightening, burying his face in Steve’s neck. 

“Forever?” he says. “I hope?” 

Steve’s stomach flutters. 

“You want me to stay forever?” 

“Mm.”

Steve exhales when Eddie’s hand finds his, and he watches, spreading his fingers to lace with Eddie’s. His hand is a little cold. 

“Sounds nice,” he says quietly. Eddie hums. He sets his chin on Steve’s shoulder. 

“You still feel okay?” he asks softly, his voice soft and breathy next to Steve’s ear. 

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. He feels so okay. Here in Eddie’s room, in his clothes, in his arms. “I feel good.”

One of Eddie’s arms reaches across his chest like he’s keeping him secure, and he rubs Steve’s upper arm, squeezing gently. 

“You wanna tell me what happened?”

Steve takes a breath, unlacing their fingers to trace the back of Eddie’s hand. 

“It was kind of, like. A lot of stuff.”

“Tell me, Stevie.”

Steve closes his eyes. 

“They, uhm. Came back and just… started telling me my car was dirty, started saying the— the kitchen floor was dirty, that they should get the tiles replaced. They didn’t even say hi.”

“Jesus,” Eddie breathes. 

“And when I tried to leave, I had to, like, explain I had to pick up the kids, and Dad started, just, berating me for babysitting, and Mom made this… comment. That I was acting like an adult. And when I said I am one, Dad…” He exhales, pressing closer to Eddie, whose arms tighten. “Said I’d be an adult when I graduated high school.”

Eddie is quiet for a moment before, 

“What?”

“Yeah, they don’t— they don’t even know how old I am.”

“Holy fuck, Stevie,” Eddie says softly, squeezing him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Steve ignores the butterflies that erupt in his stomach. 

“It’s…” 

“You don’t have to say it’s fine.”

“...It’s not fine.”

“‘S right.”

“I tried… I tried telling them, like— showing them how they just don’t know me, but they just— everything I fucking said, they just… Tried to make it so it wasn’t their fault. Pretended it was no big deal, even though— even though it is, I…”

“It is,” Eddie murmurs softly. “It matters to you, they never treated you right, Stevie.”

Steve exhales shakily, relaxing against him again. 

“They’re so fucking condescending,” he says after a moment, his voice softer. Eddie rubs his arm gently, reassuringly. “He always does this thing, where, like… If I point something out, or I— I do something, he pulls this bullshit, and he’ll say, like, Oh, let’s say that’s true, as though I don’t fucking know, like I didn’t just fucking tell him.”

Eddie lifts a hand and reaches to touch his hair, running his fingers through it gently. 

“He said I’d be an adult when I graduate high school, and then as soon as I told him I did, and I am, suddenly I actually know nothing about adulthood and I haven’t experienced the world, and I’m— Whose fucking fault is that? They never took me along on any of their fucking trips, they left me in fucking Hawkins, Indiana.”

Eddie plays with his hair, listening to him talk. His fingers are so gentle. 

“He said I was having a temper tantrum,” Steve says, looking across the room. Eddie’s hand tightens, tugging gently. “I just… They make me feel like— like such a child. And it’s bullshit, because how can I feel so fucking little when they never treated me like I was little when I was?” he rambles. “They acted like I was a grown man when I was a kid, they acted like I knew how to live my life, but they were never there to show me how. And now I am grown, but they tell me I’m disrespectful, and that I’m having a tantrum, and…”

“Take a deep breath for me,” Eddie says softly. 

Steve inhales slowly, closing his eyes, and he exhales after holding it for a moment, relaxing against Eddie again, who murmurs a soft, “There you go.”

“Can I tell you something?” Eddie asks quietly. Steve nods, holding his forearm with both hands as his fingers drag through his hair slowly. “...You did everything fucking right, Stevie.”

“...You think?” 

“Jesus, yeah. They’ve never treated you the way you deserve, Steve, you have every fuckin’ right to stand up for yourself, to— to tell them to go fuck themselves.” 

Steve exhales again, a feeling settling in his chest. 

“I hate them,” he says quietly. 

“Me too.”

“And I hate that fucking house.”

“You’re here now.”

Eddie tightens his fist in his hair, and Steve sighs, closing his eyes. 

“Love you,” Eddie says softly. Steve squeezes his eyes shut for a second. 

Eddie says that a lot. Every time they say goodbye, every time Steve does something stupid, every time either of them has a nightmare. 

It was a nightmare that prompted it the first time. Eddie had slept over at Steve’s, and Steve woke up to Eddie crying in his sleep, his body shaking as he cried into the pillow, whimpering and clutching at the blanket. Steve woke him up carefully, touching his face, his hands, his arms, squeezing as gently as possible, whispering his name. Eddie woke after a minute, his eyes finding Steve in the dim moonlight, and before Steve could even say anything, he was reaching out for him, sobbing and pressing his face into Steve’s chest as Steve pulled him into a hug. He whispered it when he stopped crying, as they were rocking back and forth, as Stee combed the tangles out of his hair. 

I love you, Stevie.

And Steve’s world flipped inside out, and he was in pain, every cell in his body on fire, because he was hearing it, because Eddie told him, and because only Robin had ever said it to him like that, all three words, carefully annunciated, intentionally said. And also because Steve knew how he meant it. 

I love you too, Eddie.

“Why’d you come?” Steve asks. “After taking the kids home?”

“Wanted to make sure you were okay,” Eddie says. “...Had a feeling.”

“...Thank you,” Steve whispers. 

Eddie takes a breath, tugging again before he turns his face and presses a kiss to Steve’s temple. 

He’s never done that before. 

Steve feels almost sick with butterflies, and he can feel his face flushing with heat, but he can’t suppress his smile. Eddie looks at him for a moment, and then he does it again, slowly. Deliberately. 

Steve exhales, letting himself feel it, Eddie’s lips on his skin, his breath warm and close. Eddie’s hand tightens again, his fist squeezing in Steve’s hair before he lets go. 

And then Eddie’s lips press to his cheek, slowly and softly, and then again, and again, slowly moving down toward Steve’s jaw. Steve tilts his head, his eyes closed, and he’s scared to open them, scared he might wake up. 

Eddie’s lips press under his jaw, sucking a soft kiss into his skin, and when he pulls away, his lips brush Steve’s skin as he murmurs, “So fuckin’ proud of you.”

And Steve whimpers. 

He’s gripping Eddie’s arm tightly, and he feels like he might start crying, but Eddie just kisses him again, moving down to the side of his neck, gently pulling his hair out of the way. 

Steve bites his lip to hold in another sound, squeezing his eyes shut as he listens to it, to Eddie’s lips on his skin, to Eddie’s soft, slow breathing, as he feels Eddie’s fingers tug at his hair. He feels fucking weightless, like he’s floating in the air, like nothing in the world exists right now except for them. 

“So proud,” Eddie breathes against his neck, kissing him again. 

“Did I do good?” 

Steve wants to jump out the fucking window. 

His voice comes out weak and breathy, quiet and so fucking desperate that he flushes with embarrassment, and he opens his eyes like he’s going to look for an escape, to leave even though he just got here, but Eddie…

“So fucking good, Stevie,” he whispers without hesitation. “You did so good, I’m so proud of you.”

Steve’s eyes flutter shut, and he exhales sharply, his head falling back as Eddie kisses his neck again. It’s wet this time, and Steve keens at the thought of Eddie’s open mouth against him, of his tongue and his teeth and his spit. 

“Eddie,” Steve whines breathlessly, squeezing his arm. 

“Is this okay?” Eddie asks quickly, his hand pausing in Steve’s hair. 

“Don’t stop,” Steve says weakly. Eddie hums softly, his hand tightening, and Steve lets out a soft noise before Eddie kisses a slow line up the side of his neck until he finds his earlobe, where he pauses, kissing it before he sucks it between his lips as gently as possible. “Eddie.”

“Alright?”

“Mm. Feel so good.”

Eddie hums quietly, and Steve keens as he nibbles at the shell of his ear, his teeth nipping gently, tenderly. His arm tightens around Steve’s torso, his other hand squeezing in his hair so hard that it hurts, and one of Steve’s hands finds Eddie’s leg next to him, gripping just above his knee desperately. 

“I got you,” Eddie murmurs into his ear, like he just knows how overwhelmed Steve is, how his whole body is flooding with this feeling. 

“You got me,” Steve repeats absently, head lolling back onto Eddie’s shoulder. 

“‘S right, Stevie.”

He kisses his neck again, harder, more confidently, his teeth and tongue on Steve’s skin, and Steve fucking hopes he leaves marks in his path. He wants evidence of this, proof that it wasn’t all in Steve’s head like some fucked up wet dream. 

Eddie tugs on his hair, moving his hand to the back of his head before twisting his fingers in it tightly. Steve lets out a broken noise, biting his lip to muffle it. 

“Eddie—”

“Stevie,” Eddie breathes. 

“I…”

“What is it?” Eddie whispers, kissing his jaw gently. “Tell me.”

“Need more,” Steve says weakly, his face hot with embarrassment. 

“More what?” Eddie murmurs, and Steve wants to be annoyed, to roll his eyes and tell Eddie not to make him say it, but he can’t, because his head feels like it’s filled with cotton, and his limbs feel heavy, and he feels fucking high, just because of Eddie’s mouth on him, because of Eddie’s sweet words. 

“You,” he chokes. “Please, Eddie, I need you, please—”

“Fuck,” Eddie exhales, tugging Steve’s hair so his head tilts before he leans down and kisses his neck, his lips brushing his skin as he speaks. “I need you too, Stevie.”

Steve stifles a whine, pressing his lips together as Eddie sits up a little, leaning closer to kiss his neck, and he’s almost kissing his throat now as Steve’s head falls back, and Steve reaches up to his head, pushing his fingers into Eddie’s curls messily. 

“Eddie, please,” he says softly. “More.”

“Shit,” Eddie hisses, breathing hard against Steve’s neck. “Turn around, come here.”

Steve turns, aching when he has to leave Eddie’s chest, and he tries to keep his balance on Eddie’s soft mattress that’s covered in blankets. Their legs tangle, and Steve has to take a moment to sort them out, and Eddie giggles softly, reaching to push Steve’s hair out of his face. Steve smiles hopelessly, moving forward. 

Eddie pulls at his legs, tugging him so their legs are wrapped around each other, so their chests almost press, so their faces are close. Eddie looks wrecked, his cheeks flushed, hair messy, eyes shining like he’s going to cry, and Steve knows he can’t look much better. He exhales, reaching up to trace his scar. It stretches when Eddie smiles. Eddie closes his eyes, turning his head to let him.

His hands slide up from Steve’s legs to his hips, his waist, pressing and firm and gentle on Steve’s sides. Steve slides his hands to hold his face, leaning close enough that their noses nudge together. 

Eddie exhales, his eyes fluttering shut, and his hands slide to Steve’s back, pulling him closer as he murmurs. 

“So fucking proud of you, Stevie, I can’t even tell you,” he says softly, nudging their noses together again. “No fucking words.”

Steve’s body flushes with heat, and he melts, his hands slipping to Eddie’s neck. He can feel the scars under his fingertips. 

He tilts his head, his eyes stinging as Eddie keeps talking, keeping whispering and murmuring about how proud he is. 

No one’s ever told Steve that they’re proud of him. He’s never heard it before. 

But Eddie says it so earnestly, like he’s fucking reverent, and Steve listens. 

And then Eddie is kissing him between words, his lips gentle and a little chapped against Steve’s, and Steve feels like he’s going to fall over with it all, his lips parted because he can barely kiss back. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, kissing his mouth, his cheeks, his chin, whispering to him. 

“So proud of you, Stevie, you did so fucking good. So brave.” 

Steve’s hands find Eddie’s head again, his fingers pushing into his curls, and he sighs, listening and listening and listening and absorbing the feeling of Eddie’s lips pressing to his softly. 

His hands tighten in his hair after a moment, and he pulls Eddie in, shutting him up with a hard, lingering kiss. Eddie’s hands tighten on Steve’s waist, his fingers pressing into the scarred skin, and Steve’s whole body aches. They part with a slick sound and a gasp, but Steve pulls him back in before he can say anything, tugging his hair. 

Eddie kisses him back desperately, clutching at his back, tilting his head to kiss him deeper, and Steve thinks he might be dying. It feels so fucking good, and the way Eddie is touching him…

His fingers dig into the knit of the sweater he’s wearing, holding him close as his legs tighten around him, and after a moment, one of his hands slides around Steve’s side, up over his chest slowly until it reaches his neck. It feels like he’s being so careful, gentle like Steve is delicate, and Steve’s never wanted to feel delicate before, but he’s basking in Eddie’s touch like it’s sunlight. He wraps his arms around Eddie’s neck, and their chests are almost touching as Eddie nibbles his lip the way he did with his ear earlier. 

It feels kind of silly, really, in the grand scheme of things. 

That they’d survive the end of the world, stop the end of the world, live through horrors beyond comprehension, and Eddie is proud of him for yelling at his parents. And now they’re making out, kissing each other stupid in Eddie’s bedroom, surrounded by his posters and blankets and the glow of his cracked lamps. 

But Steve can’t think of a single place he’d rather be. 

Eddie is holding the side of his face now, his fingers gentle on his skin, and Steve holds in a groan when Eddie’s tongue slips past his lips, his chest tightening. 

Eddie pulls away and they both gasp for air. 

“Baby,” Eddie breathes. 

“God, yeah.”

“Was that okay?” Eddie asks quietly, brushing his thumb over Steve’s cheek, and Steve closes his eyes as they start to sting. He doesn’t want to cry right now. 

“Yeah,” he says weakly, almost choking the word out. “It was so okay, Eddie, I… Please.”

Eddie kisses him again. Pulls away to breathe, resting their foreheads together. 

“Want you,” Steve says softly, whispering. 

He doesn’t mean to say it out loud, but he can’t take it back. 

Especially when Eddie is kissing him like this, like he’d die if he didn’t, like he’s drowning and Steve is air. Steve’s arms tighten around his neck, and he’s shivering, chills spreading over his skull, down his spine, as he listens to the soft breathy hums Eddie is letting out as he listens to the wet sounds of their lips, their tongues. Eddie licks into his mouth, licks his lips and his teeth and the roof of his mouth, and Steve lets him, even though their lips and chins are wet now, slick with each other’s spit, and it’s a little gross. Steve doesn’t fucking care. It feels good. 

He lets out a whine, letting his jaw drop for Eddie to suck on his tongue for a moment, and his cheeks flush with heat. Eddie smiles against his mouth, kissing him again. 

“You still want more?” Eddie murmurs, caressing his cheek. Steve exhales, nodding. 

“Please.”

Eddie presses wet kisses over his jaw, down his neck, and Steve melts, his head falling back to give him room. He shivers, tightening, when Eddie’s lips find his throat, pausing to suck on his skin lightly before he continues, kissing across the scars on his neck. 

His scars are lighter than Eddie’s. Shallower. A metallic, faded pink that only stands out against his skin when he tans. 

His parents didn’t notice them. 

Or the scar on his chin, which Steve forgets about himself a lot of the time. It’s from that night at Starcourt. He used to stare at it in the mirror, hating it, hating himself. It’s faded so much it’s barely noticeable, but everyone knows it’s there. Steve knows it’s there. 

Eddie knows it’s there. 

He kisses it when he finishes with Steve’s neck, holding Steve’s face in place as he presses kiss after kiss after kiss to it, softly and tenderly, and Steve wonders if he looks at this scar the way Steve looks at his scar. 

“Eddie,” he breathes. 

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

Steve bites his lip, squeezing his eyes shut, and Eddie presses his thumb to his lower lip, pulling it free before he kisses him gently. 

“Do you wanna take your sweater off?” he asks quietly, whispering. Steve nods.

“You too,” he whispers, opening his eyes and meeting Eddie’s gaze. He looks so… tender. His eyes are shining at Steve, and he’s almost smiling, just barely, and his face is so relaxed, more at peace than Steve thinks he’s ever seen him while awake. “Please.”

Eddie nods, kissing him again before pulling his hands away from his face, and he reaches for the hem of the sweater Steve is wearing. 

They have to separate for him to pull it up over Steve’s head, and Steve shivers when it’s off, the air in the room colder than he expected. Eddie tosses the sweater aside, his eyes skimming over Steve’s body, and he feels shy suddenly, overcome with the desire to hide his chest, his scars, the soft rolls of his belly. 

Eddie pulls his sweatshirt off, and Steve watches, crossing his arms over his stomach as he looks at Eddie’s pale skin, at the scars that mark his sides, his chest. The art that’s inked into his skin. One of the tattoos is almost gone, the bare edges of it rough around the skin graft on his chest. 

“Don’t do that,” Eddie says softly, like he’s scared of disturbing the quiet air. He reaches for Steve’s hands, pulling them away from where they’re hiding his stomach, and he leans in to kiss him, pulling his hands to touch Eddie. “Wanna see you.”

Steve kisses him back, squeezing his eyes shut, and he slides his hands across Eddie’s chest to touch his neck. Eddie hums, pulling his mouth away to look at him, and Steve blushes as Eddie’s eyes scan his chest, his arms, his belly. 

“So fucking gorgeous, baby,” Eddie murmurs against his mouth. 

Steve whines. 

He pulls Eddie into another desperate kiss, and he shifts onto his knees, leaning over him, holding Eddie’s jaw so he tilts his head back. 

“You too,” he says breathlessly, into Eddie’s mouth. “So fucking pretty, Eddie, you’re so beautiful it fucking hurts.”

“Fuck, Steve,” Eddie pants, and he wraps his arms around Steve’s legs, holding him as they kiss, and it’s messy and sloppy and desperate, and Steve feels like Eddie is touching him everywhere, his callused hands rubbing away every bad feeling Steve’s ever had. He tilts his head, sliding his tongue along Eddie’s, and Eddie’s hands tighten, squeezing his thighs. 

He slowly shifts onto his knees too, moving up so they’re face to face, and he hugs Steve’s waist, pulling him against himself. Steve groans softly, stifling it, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck again before he slides his hands over his shoulders. 

And they can’t keep their hands off each other, palms and fingers sliding and pressing and touching. Eddie’s hand pushes into Steve’s hair, tugging sharply as he sucks on his lip, as his other hand slides across his back, gentle on his scars, and then he’s running his hands over Steve’s waist and chest and reaching down to his thighs, murmuring beautiful into Steve’s mouth, and Steve believes him. 

They kiss until Steve’s mouth is sore, until his legs are tired from kneeling like this, until his chin is wet again, and Eddie is smiling against his mouth, still fucking talking, still telling Steve how proud he is, how good Steve was. 

He kisses Steve’s neck, and Steve’s head falls back. 

“God, baby,” Eddie breathes, panting as he kisses his neck again, and his tongue slips over Steve’s skin. “You’re so fucking good, shit.”

“Eddie,” Steve chokes, pushing his hand into his hair and pulling. “I need— Fuck, I need you, baby, Eddie, please, I—”

Eddie lowers so he’s kneeling, and he pulls at Steve’s thighs again, pulling him so he’s straddling his hips. Steve wraps his arms around him, letting out a sharp breath as he lowers, as Eddie licks a line up his neck. Eddie’s hand runs over Steve’s stomach until it reaches his sweatpants, and he touches him over them, gently pressing against his dick. Steve chokes, hiding his face in Eddie’s neck. 

“Is this okay?” Eddie asks breathlessly, his other hand running up his back and holding the base of his skull. Steve nods. “Baby, I need words, please.”

“Yes,” Steve gasps. “‘S okay, it’s so okay, please, just… I need you .”

Eddie does it again, pressing and squeezing, and Steve is so hard it almost hurts, but Eddie is so tender with him, rubbing his back as Steve clings to him. They’re both breathing hard, and Steve is biting his lip to stay quiet, but it’s hard when Eddie whispers. 

“Can I take it out?” 

“Fuck,” Steve breathes. “Yeah. Please.”

He holds his breath. 

Eddie’s hands are warm. And gentle. Eddie pulls away just enough to glance down to look, carefully tucking Steve’s sweatpants out of the way, and he’s smiling. Steve tugs at his hair, making him tilt his head back so he can kiss him so hard their teeth clash. Eddie is still smiling, his hand moving slowly, carefully. 

When they part, Steve is gasping for breath, eyes squeezed shut so hard he might get a headache, and Eddie notices, reaching up and rubbing the spot between his eyebrows with his thumb. 

“Breathe for me,” Eddie whispers. Steve exhales slowly, looking at him, watching as he nods, and lowers his head. A moment later, he’s letting a line of spit drip out of his mouth to Steve’s dick and Steve groans quietly, pulling him back into a hug as Eddie slides his hand to spread it. Eddie’s other hand presses to Steve’s back securely, holding him close. 

“Do you like it?” he asks softly. 

“Fuck, yeah,” Steve says, and he doesn’t recognize his own voice. It’s so high-pitched, weak and shaky and breathless and so vulnerable he wants to hate it, but he also doesn’t care, because Eddie is holding him like this, touching him and letting him tremble. “I like it, I like it so much, Eddie.”

“Good boy,” Eddie murmurs. 

And fuck. 

Eddie moves his hand slowly, and after a moment he shifts so he’s sitting, and they’re back to how they were before, their legs wrapped around each other. Steve keeps his arms around his neck, hiding his face. Eddie slides his other hand into his hair. 

“You want me to pull?”

“God, yes,” Steve chokes. “Please.”

And Eddie definitely noticed how it made him feel just a moment ago, because—

“Good boy.”

Steve can hear his smile. 

His hand tightens, his fist squeezing in it, and it’s a slow, dull ache that grows on Steve’s scalp. He stifles a groan, pressing his lips together. 

“Stop doing that,” Eddie says breathlessly, his hand loosening, and Steve exhales with relief, his mouth falling open. A moment later he processes Eddie’s words, and he hums in confusion. 

“Keeping yourself quiet,” Eddie says. “Stop, I wanna hear you.”

Steve blinks his eyes open, his eyes blearily finding the Slayer poster above Eddie’s bed. His vision is blurry, and he feels like he’s cross-faded, out of his damn mind with the feeling of Eddie’s hands on him. 

“You don’t want me to be quiet,” he mumbles absently. He doesn’t mean to say it out loud. 

“No,” Eddie says softly, twisting his hand. Steve’es eyes close again. “I don’t want you to be quiet. Let me hear you, baby.” He moves his hand a little faster, tightening his fist, and Steve lets out a whine, burying his face in Eddie’s neck. 

“Louder,” Eddie says, moving his hand faster, his other hand tugging Steve’s hair sharply. 

“Fuck,” Steve gasps before he moans weakly. 

“Louder,” Eddie whispers, his hand tightening in his hair. Steve lets out a sob. 

“Eddie.”

“There you go,” Eddie whispers, tilting his head to kiss his jaw, and it sounds almost condescending, but it wraps around Steve like a blanket. “Good boy. You don’t have to be quiet, baby.”

So he isn’t. 

His mouth stays open, panting against Eddie’s neck and shoulder, letting out soft moans and whines and whimpers and Eddie’s name as Eddie pulls at his hair again, his other hand jerking Steve off, alternating between rapid and fast and slow and tender, squeezing and tugging and drawing it out. 

“I love how you sound,” Eddie murmurs after Steve lets out a sob. “So fucking pretty, baby, God.”

“Eddie,” Steve whimpers. 

“I got you, honey, ’s okay.” He scratches Steve’s scalp, pulling his hair. 

“Fuck, I love you.”

Eddie lets out a soft noise, and he pulls at Steve’s hair sharply, tugging him away from where he’s resting his head, and he kisses him. Steve kisses back after a moment, almost lightheaded, and he clutches at him, at his hair, his arm. 

“I love you too, baby,” Eddie pants when they part, pressing their foreheads together. “I love you so much.”

Steve lets out a long groan, squeezing Eddie’s wrist. 

“Eddie, I—”

“You can come,” Eddie murmurs. “It’s okay.”

He kisses Steve’s cheek, murmuring as Steve buries his face in his neck again, moaning as Eddie’s hand speeds up again, and Steve is crying into his neck, sobbing as his body floods with heat, as he comes.

“There you go, baby,” Eddie whispers, fingers still working, jerking Steve until he finally slows down. “Did so good, Stevie.”

“Fuck.”

Eddie’s hand finally stops, and he lets go, his other hand running through Steve’s hair comfortingly as Steve catches his breath. He tucks Steve back in his sweatpants carefully, patting his crotch when he’s done, and Steve snorts.

“You okay?” Eddie asks softly when Steve is breathing slowly. Steve hums. “That good, huh?”

“Mm. No one’s ever wanted to hear me before.”

“No?” Eddie says, running his hand over Steve’s back, tracing his spine. “But you sound so good.”

“Hm. I don’t know,” Steve mumbles. “One girl commented that I was noisy and it just… made me self-conscious, I guess.”

Eddie hums softly, sliding his hand up to hold the back of his neck, and it feels protective, possessive, and Steve could die happy here. 

“I like hearing you,” Eddie says. “Don’t ever want you to be quiet.”

“Okay.” He takes a breath, nuzzling into Eddie’s neck before he kisses him gently under his jaw. “Can I get you off?”

“Mm. Yeah. ‘S not gonna take much, though, I almost came just listening to you.”

Steve giggles, lifting his head and reaching for the hem of Eddie’s sweatpants as their eyes meet. He pushes his hand under them, watching Eddie’s expression shift, watching his eyes flutter shut and his lips part, watching his shoulders slump. He’s still holding the back of Steve’s neck, and his hand tightens. 

“Can I take it out?” Steve whispers. 

“Yeah, baby,” Eddie breathes. “Go ‘head.”

Steve does, licking his lips, and Eddie pulls him in to rest their foreheads together. Steve lifts his hand to his mouth and spits on his palm before reaching down again, touching him. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, laughing lightly. “Fuck.”

“You always this easy?” Steve asks softly, whispering. Eddie hums.

“Only when I have the… hottest boy in the world touching my dick.”

Steve giggles, sliding his hand up and down slowly, listening to Eddie breathing heavily. He’s having fun. He’s never had fun like this during sex. It’s always felt like something to just do, to get done, to make his partner feel good. But even as he focuses on Eddie, he can’t stop smiling, watching his own hand on Eddie’s dick, listening to the soft moans and hums Eddie lets out. Eddie’s other hand finds Steve’s thigh and squeezes tightly, gripping so hard Steve wonders if he’ll leave bruises under his fingertips. He kind of hopes he does. 

“Fuck,” Eddie gasps after a while. “I’m gonna come.”

Steve kisses him. Messily, desperately. 

“Come for me.”

Eddie grunts, his hand slipping to hold the base of Steve’s head, and he pants, breathing hard against Steve’s cheek as Steve watches, almost mesmerized by the come dripping over his fingers, his knuckles. 

“Jesus,” Steve breathes as Eddie comes down, his grip on Steve’s leg and head relaxing. “You’re so…”

Eddie hums softly. 

“So…”

“I don’t know,” Steve says quietly, pulling his hand away as Eddie softens, and he tucks him back into his sweatpants, imitating him with the gentle pat. Eddie laughs. He has a beautiful laugh. 

“I’ve heard I’m a lot,” Eddie says. 

“You are,” Steve says, looking into his eyes. He smiles, and Eddie tilts his head curiously. “In a good way,” he adds. “I like it.”

Eddie smiles bashfully, his cheeks pink, and Steve nudges their noses together, closing his eyes. 

“...Are you gonna talk about it?” Eddie says after a few moments. Steve exhales, swallowing. 

His hands are in his lap, and he looks at them, at the come on his hand. 

“...I’ve had a crush on you for a while.”

It’s quiet for a moment before Eddie touches Steve’s chin, gently prompting him to lift his head. He’s smiling when Steve looks at him, and he leans in to kiss him softly, chastely. Familiarly. 

“Cool,” he says, his lips brushing Steve’s. “Same.”

And Steve laughs. 

Eddie kisses him again, smiling against Steve’s smile, and Steve wraps his arms around his neck, keeping his dirty hand in the air as his other hand pushes into Eddie’s curls. Eddie’s hands slide across Steve’s back. 

Steve pulls away. 

“You are getting come all over my back.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Eddie says sarcastically, and Steve snorts. “What do you think about a shower to clean you up?”

“Ah, that was your master plan, wasn’t it?” 

“Yeah, my goal was to get you naked by getting you mostly naked.”

“Pure genius, Eddie.”

“I know…”

Steve follows him to the bathroom after they get clothes. (Eddie just gives him more of his own) 

It feels nice when Eddie washes his hair. Even though he forms it into a mohawk with the soap. He’s grinning as he does it, his eyes sparkling, amused, and Steve lets him. It also feels nice when Eddie washes his body, which he does without saying anything, scrubbing him gently, tenderly, washing the soap away with the showerhead and pressing kisses to his wet skin. Steve does the same to him. It feels nice to do this, to help him even though he doesn’t really need it. 

Steve kneels to do his legs, and as he does, he kisses his scars. Eddie holds a hand out, blocking the water from hitting Steve’s face. And Steve somehow falls in love all over again. 

The tile wall is cold as Eddie pushes him against it to kiss him, but he doesn’t mind. 

They separate to dry themselves off, and Steve stops him when he starts to scrub his hair dry with the towel. He scolds him lightly, pulling close and taking over, scrunching the ends and drying it gently, noting that he wants to get some product for him. Eddie just gazes at him silently, his hands on Steve’s hips. 

“I love you,” he whispers when Steve hangs the towels. 

Steve hugs him, and Eddie hugs him so tightly that he lifts him up a little bit, his toes touching the ground. 

“I love you too.”

Over his shoulder, Steve can see them in the reflection of the mirror. It’s fogged over from the shower steam, but he can see the shape of them, their dark clothing in the bright light of the bathroom, and Steve sighs. 

They go back to bed, arms around each other as they find their places again, Steve’s back to Eddie’s chest. Eddie kisses his neck. Steve closes his eyes. 

“So what do you say about forever?” Eddie asks quietly as Steve is starting to drift off. He hums, turning to tuck his face into Eddie’s neck, and Eddie pushes a hand into his hair, holding him gently. 

“Forever sounds nice.”

if you like my work maybe consider supporting me on ko-fi or looking into my commissions <3

#say it with me #This Is So Much Longer Than I Expected It To Be #oh well #steddie #steddie one shot #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

[harrywavycurly]

What You Deserve Part 3: Start Small

Masterlist: Here

CW: Tiniest mention of your toxic ex

Tag List: @littlered0000 @saramelaniemoon @ali-r3n @sapphire4082 @sweetmoonlove0214 @eddies-girl-22 @darknesseddiem @peaches-roses-sins @blckburd @comeonatmebruh @daisy-munson @cultish-corner @mrsjellymunson @aol19 @micheledawn1975 @2000babies

A/N: You might be nervous but don’t worry Eddie’s got you also it’s a long one so I split it up into sections and it’ll make sense as you read, enjoy🫠✨

“Good Morning.” “Good Morning…uh you didn’t have to knock on my door you could’ve just honked or-” “honked?…sweetheart I’m not sixteen and running late to school….I’m here to pick you up so that means I knock on the door or ring the bell…whatever you prefer and walk you to my car.” “Oh…Steven just honks…it’s not that big of deal really if it’s easier than getting all the way out-” “it’s not your job to make things easier on anyone…especially Harrington.” “Sorry…I’ll uhm work..on that.” “You don’t have to apologize…so shall we exit the porch now or did you want to stand here for a bit longer?” “Oh yeah yeah we can go…holy shit is that your car?” “One of them yeah…do you not like it? I went with the one that has the smoothest ride…since I know feeling comfortable while inside a car is important to you.” “It’s so…nice I don’t want to like…get it dirty or anything.” “Sweetheart…it’s car…it’s gonna get dirty and that’s fine I’ll just wash it…trust me…there’s nothing you could do that I can’t fix…so please…get in the car.”

“Okay…” “Your coffee is right there…and feel free to change the radio to whatever you want.” “Thank you…oh you don’t care if I touch this stuff?” “Well you’re going to have to touch it if you want to change the station…” “I’m uh not used to being able to mess with the buttons in the car if I’m not driving.” “Please tell me Harrington-” “No no Steven lets me but him and I listen to the same stuff so it was fine…it was uh…my last uhm boyfriend he..didn’t let me control anything in the car.” “Well let’s get this out of the way now okay?…I’m Eddie…or to you I’m sure you’d prefer to call me Edward but either way…I’m not your ex…so whatever he was like and by the sounds of it he wasn’t a very…nice guy…so just know I’m not like him…so feel free to touch all the buttons and change the station..hell roll your window down if you want I don’t care…what’s mine is yours okay?” “Really?” “Yes..that’s a big part of this…type of relationship…whatever I have you also have…and if there’s something you want then just tell me and I’ll do my best to get it for you.” “Oh wow…okay…uh so when you say relationship what uhm…what would I call you?” “What do you mean?” “Like…when you drop me off today and someone asks oh who was that? Is that your boyfriend? What…what should I say? I can’t just be like oh that’s just my…sugar daddy Eddie.” “Yeah that’s sort of a mouthful isn’t it?” “I mean that’s uh just assuming you….you want to be my daddy…sugar daddy…sorry I’m just nervous and you’re…a uhm little intimidating in person but not in a bad way it’s…it’s like in the same way I’d feel around Tony Soprano or someone like that.” “Did you just compare me to a mob boss? That’s the vibes I give off?….if so then me and my stylist need to have a conversation about my wardrobe.” “You have a stylist?” “She does my shopping for me once every two months or so because I hate shopping for clothes….but Tony Soprano…really?” “I mean…you just look like you could easily have someone whacked with the snap of a finger and…yet you also look like you give really good hugs which is important because sometimes a good hug can just fix everything and…and you just…I feel…safe? Even though I don’t really know you…I’d trust you with my drink at a party.” “I’m honored that you’d leave your drink with me at a party and I’m glad you feel safe with me…but you make me sound like I’m some super badass dude…when I’m just a business owner who doesn’t have any mafia connections at all so no matter how many times I snap my fingers no one is getting whacked…” “damn..I was going to give you a list.” “But I have been told I give good hugs.” “That’s good…that’s really good to know….so uhm…how do we actually do this? Do I sign something? Do you want a trial run to see if I annoy you or not?” “I don’t need a trial run…also this isn’t fifty shades of grey I don’t need you to sign anything.” “You’ve seen those movies?” “No I read the books.” “Oh…you…you like to uhm…read? That’s…great.” “So why don’t we start small for now?” “Okay…what does that mean exactly?” “You let me take you to and from work this week and we can get to know each other more and…you let me buy you dinner Friday night?” “Okay that…sounds fine.” “And Friday over dinner we can discus what we both want out of this? Does that sound doable?” “Yes…that’s doable.” “Perfect.”

“Harrington isn’t even here yet and the store opens in five minutes?” “Yeah but that’s fine I have a key and can open the store up.” “By yourself?” “Yeah? I do it all the time.” “That’s…not safe…Steve should know better than that.” “It really is okay…oh are you going to see Dave today?” “I am…I’m actually going to work on him myself.” “Really?” “Yeah I figured he deserved to be worked on by someone that knows his life story…I’m gonna do what I can for him don’t worry.” “Easier said than done…” “I know…oh look who decided to actually show up to work.” “He’s not late so that’s actually good timing for him…so uhm I’ll see you later?” “Yeah I’ll be here when your shift is over.” “So uh have a good day Eddie…” “thanks sweetheart…tell Harrington to call me.” “Uh oh he’s in trouble isn’t he?” “No…not at all…” “what are you-” “you didn’t think I’d let you open your own door did you?” “Oh…uhm well thank you.” “Have a good day…oh and please don’t wait for me outside when you’re done working okay? I’ll come inside and get you.” “Okay…I’ll see you later then…” “Yes…now I gotta go but I’ll tell Dave hello for you.” “Thanks…for uhm…everything.” “You’re welcome.”

#what you deserve series #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson au #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #sugar daddy!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson social media au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie Munson x fem!reader fluff #Eddie Munson #stranger things series #eddie munson series #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #my little dungeon master baby

[princesachicana]

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 pt.2

a/n: it's finally here!! how long has it been?! first things first i want to say thank you to everyone who's been rooting for this fic!! I honestly hit a huge writers block and had no motivation to write!! but all the sweet messages from people saying they enjoyed my work has made me so happy!!! SO ONCE AGAIN THANK U AND I HOPE U ENJOY!! I tried my EXTRA HARDEST SO I HOPE THIS GIVES U THE CLOSURE YALL WANTED I LOVE YOU SM! ALSO THIS IS NOT PROOF READ SO PLEASE EXCUSE ANY MISTAKES!! I JUST WANTED TO FINALLY POST FOR U GUYS!!

It took a lot out of you not to stay in bed the next morning. The softness of your bed wrapped around your body gives you some sort of comfort. But of course, staying in bed would only make you feel worse. At least if you got up it would be easier to fake happiness. To no surprise, your phone was flooded with missed calls and texts from both Steven and Belly. Of course, you only responded to belly telling her that you'll explain your reasoning for ditching your "date" with Steven later.

Why did Steven even bother leaving you so many texts last night? If you were such a bother to him? Annoying. That's what he thinks you are. And what if you never heard those disgusting things he said about you? and went on the date with him? Would he just continue to lead you on?

Steven: waiting for you by the pool.

Steven: ur late

Steven: u look pretty even though i can't even see you. pls im starving

Steven: is belly holding you hostage?

Steven: it's been 18 minutes cmon.

Steven: the guys are going to laugh at me for being stood up I'm getting nervous.

Steven: did something happen are you okay?

Steven: belly is worried as well lmk.

You laughed at the messages blinking back angry tears that threatened to fall. Gosh! he was so fake. You could only imagine how relieved he must have been to not hang out with you.

Belly: have funnnn

Belly: no funny business!!

Belly: wait where did you go?!

Belly: Steven keeps pacing back and forth waiting for u

Belly: what’s going on?

Belly: just let us know ur okay

Belly: y/n ??!?!??

Y/n: hey, something came up last night sorry I had you worried. can u come over?

Belly arrived 20 minutes later. You spent the time together watching reruns of your favorite Disney show. “Do you want to talk about it?” Belly asked after a while, noticing something was bothering you.

“I overheard the guys talking about me last night.” You fiddled with the throw blanket that was on your lap. “At first it was just them teasing Steven about our date or whatever.” You took a deep breath upset that you felt like crying. “But Steven only agreed to hang out with me…” You paused blinking back tears. Belly moved closer immediately pulling you into a hug. “He only agreed to hang out with me…so I could stop annoying him! I honestly don’t know what I did wrong?” You pulled away from belly’s arms wiping your tears that had fallen.

“Maybe I was too forward? but I just wanted to see if he felt the same way…it was dumb.” You shrugged. Belly shook her head “Nope my brother is a fucking idiot!” she stood up taking your hand in hers and pulling you up. “I won’t let you mope around all day because of him!” You sighed “I don’t even have a choice do I?” Belly laughed shaking her head. “What do you say we go to the boardwalk? Taylor’s coming in today too” she smirked.

“And maybe someone would be happy to see you I don’t know” she whispered with a grin. “What are you talking about?” You questioned. “Well you know Xavier..the one that works the lemonade stand?” You nodded your head yes. “Well, he totally has the hots for you.” You cringed at her word choice. “He does not!” You laughed. “Oh, he does! you were too busy ogling my brother last summer you didn’t notice him ogling you.” she poked your side teasingly.

“Now let’s go!”

~

“Stay still before I poke your eye out” Taylor groans finishing up your eyeliner. You were now at the Fisher’s beach house getting ready to go down to the boardwalk. You laugh pulling away “I think that’s enough…if you make my eyeliner any thicker I’d cry!” Taylor playfully pushes your head away. “Sorryyyyy i want to make Xavier fall to his knees when he sees you!” You frown when she brings that name up. Sure, Xavier was a nice guy…and he was cute…but he wasn’t Steven.

You’d always imagined Steven being your first everything. First kiss, first date, first time. It was something you’d dreamt of all this time.

“Yeah…im going to get a snack before we head out do y’all want anything?” You ask heading towards the door. Both girls gave you a sympathetic smile shaking their heads no.

As you reached the kitchen you stopped in your tracks. Steven turned from looking into the fridge. You made eye contact for about 5 seconds before you beelined for the cabinets. “Hey,” Steven broke the silence as you pulled out a granola bar. You felt the warmth of his stare and turned finding him now leaning against the counter. “Hey…” you whispered looking anywhere but his face. “So you gonna tell me what happened last night?” Steven crossed his arms around his chest.

“Just didn’t feel up for it anymore ..” You shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s it?” Steven scoffed. “Yeah…that’s it” you whispered about to walk away. “What’s going on? I’m like so confused right now.” Steven gently gripped your arm. “Nothing just forget it…it’s not like you wanted to go anyways.” you rolled your eyes. “And what makes you think that?” He muttered eyes scouring your face for the truth. “Um, I don’t know let’s see …you quite literally ignored me this entire week!” You responded sarcastically.

“I didn’t mean to. I had a lot of shit on my mind alright?” Steven uttered softly. It almost felt genuine. The words he spoke just last night almost became liquid. “Yeah like what?” You whispered eventually looking into his eyes. “You can tell me..” You spoke gently stepping into him closer. No matter how much he’s hurt you. Steven would always make you melt. “Nothing let’s just forget about it…he pulled away opening up the fridge once again.”

It was like a switch was flipped. How he went right back to that cold shoulder he had been giving you all week. “You're a fucking asshole” You spewed, already ready to walk out of the kitchen. “Where are you going?” He abruptly spoke again. “The boardwalk…you know? so I won’t annoy you here.” With that, you left a confused and remorseful Steven behind.

~

“Hey, look y/n why don’t you go get a lemonade?” Belly suggested with an eyebrow raise. Shit. you were hoping they forgot about that. “Guys I don’t feel up for this..” You pouted looking between both Taylor and Belly. “Noooo go talk to him! you look hot as fuck.” Taylor gently grabbed your face giving you a mini pep talk.

“What if Xavier wants to hang out..I cant just ditch you guys?!?” You were stalling and they knew it. “We’ll be here waiting for you” Belly smiled. “Just try to have fun alright? But hey if you don’t really want to do it …we’ll back off” She narrowed her eyes at Taylor. “No…I’ll go” You laughed giving both of them a hug “Thank you guys.i really appreciate this.” You’d definitely still be moping around in your room about Steven if it wasn’t for Belly and Taylor. They both wished you luck as you headed straight for the lemonade stand.

As soon as he spotted you. The biggest smile spread across his face. “y/n? damn, it’s been so long” Xavier greeted you with a hug. “It’s only been a year!” You playfully ruffled his curly hair that sat atop his head. “That’s way too long…I enjoy seeing pretty girls year-round.” He spoke smoothly, he definitely knew how to talk to girls. “Shut up” You laughed pushing him away with not that much force.

“I have an hour lunch break…you up for arcade games?”

~

“So…you seeing anyone?” Xavier asked as he ate a scoop of his mint chocolate chip ice cream. You thought about it for a moment. Technically no you weren’t seeing anyone. But you knew you were still hung up on Steven. A day at the boardwalk with Xavier wouldn’t change that. “It’s complicated…I guess” Xavier sighed “I've been there…it’s rough” You nodded you were curious as to what he meant but you didn’t want to be nosey.

“Hey, look they have street fighter..” Xavier smirked. “Want to go a couple of rounds?” You nodded immediately pulling him towards the game. “Mhhm loser buys the winner a funnel cake!” You suggested with a chuckle. “Ouuu im so down y/n” Xavier squeezed your hand that held his quickly striding towards the arcade game.

Just two more steps, Just two more steps and you’d be fine. The rowdy yelling completely threw you off. You stopped in place looking behind you where the voices were coming from. You had no time to move out of the way, no time to prevent this from happening.No time to stop the trio of boys that you knew all too well. Suddenly a body collided with Xavier, the force immediately making your intertwined hands lose. “Dude, what the fuck?” Xavier groaned. It was then that you snapped back into reality. Eyes wide when you noticed Xavier’s ice cream now all over his shirt.

“What’s up? how are we doing?” That voice full of humor made you scoff. Steven stood tall a smile on his face. You hated that it kind of made your heart flutter. “Steven, what is your problem?” You gestured towards Xavier’s now ice cream stained shirt. “He’ll be fine y/n it’ll wash out.” Steven laughed, but once he noticed you didn’t find this funny at all he frowned. “I’m sorry man, I just came over to say what’s up..” You ignored Steven’s apology not believing he meant it. “Hey want me to help you get cleaned up?” You asked Xavier voice full of concern.

“No.I got it…I’ll see y’all later.” Xavier spoke nonchalantly as he walked away. When he was out of eyesight you brushed past steven heading out the door.

“Y/n” Steven immediately followed behind you. His long legs make it easier for him to catch up with you. “You embarrassed me” You stopped outside the arcade, letting him pull you to the side. “Embarrassed? sorry to interrupt your little date” Steven scoffed. “It's not a date we were just hanging out, why do you care?” You groaned running your hands down your face. “Maybe because just yesterday you were supposed to hang out with me?” Steven spoke definitively.

“Oh my god, just earlier you agreed to forget about it,” you said with an eye roll. “It was dumb, stop acting like you care just go home Steven I did you a favor.” He shook his head “What are you talking about right now?” Steven pulled you in closer, one of his hands placed on your waist. The other coming to the side of your face, willing you to look at him.

“I heard you.i heard everything,” you spoke up voice hoarse. Steven’s heart carried pain at the tears that stood brimming in your eyes. The realization was clear when he made the connection. “And you know..who cares what Jeremiah and Conrad think! what hurt the most was you.” You shrieked. You hated that you were crying in front of him. You hated that when he hauled you against his chest you felt secure.

“I'm sorry baby... I'm sorry” Steven sounded voice vulnerable. Leaving kisses atop your head. “Why would you say that?” you sobbed breaking down in front of the boy who caused it. “I didn't mean any of it” Steven brought your face between his hands once again. “But you said it..it still fucking hurts Steven.”

You wiped your face getting prepared to pull away and walk back home.

“Wait, please let me talk to you.” Steven begged. “okay” you replied being prepared to cry all over again. “My head has been all fucked up..and that isn't an excuse I know” Steven looked down as if he couldn't construct the next words. “Please don't shut me out.” you pleaded gently. “I want you...i have all this time.” Steve confessed for the first time.

“—And I didn't want to fuck anything up we've..been so close all our lives if I ever messed that up I would never forgive myself.” It's as if you were dreaming, the boy you loved stood in front of you disclosing his feelings for you. “And what? this whole week of you acting cold towards me, were you trying to avoid your feelings?” Steven bobbed his head “Yes, if I lied to myself it would make lying to everyone else easier because the fucking truth is I want you so bad” You didn't tell him but at that moment you forgave him.

“And you called me the annoying one?” You giggled pushing on his chest gently. “Right now we could have been making out on the beach….but noo you had to be a brooding boy” Steven tickled your side, causing you to squirm in his arms. “Yeah, my fault can I kiss you now? been practically wanting to my whole life.” Steven threw his head back fake pouting setting one hand over his chest. You figured you'd throw his words right back at him. “You're so desperately desperate”

Steven smirked “Yeah for you? I am” Those words welcomed a whole lot of beautiful feelings. At that moment is when Steven bent down bringing his lips down onto your own. As your lips moved together, butterflies erupted in your belly. You smiled against his lips when you both needed a breath. “Hey, by the way, your not off the hook.. I'm still sort of pissed at you.” You declared pointing a finger into his chest.

“Yeah, I figured” He laughed wrapping his arms even tighter around you. “How about I make it up to you this whole week? I'm taking you out on dates…ill even get on my knees if I have to. I'm going to follow you around like a puppy.” Steven rambled on. You laughed out loud covering your mouth with your hands. “Oh, it's funny?” Steven raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Yeah, you're such a loser.” You joked.

Before Steven could respond you tugged him into another kiss. Perhaps everything wasn't one hundred percent fixed. But you and Steven were finally here together. You and Steven were finally in each other's arms that's all that mattered. You’d figure out the rest together.

tags 🤍: @gillybear17 @snowsharkk @tesssastle @conradsupporterr @alyssa-cabrera @eranthisphiny @xoxoloverb @lostaurorax @lanisdreams @alexzluvz @lalaland-notfound @liltimmyst @unsaidjaelineose @buckys2thicc @lilygreennn @t8lzw @medusaslilsister @1-800-stilinski @yazmi710 @j-brielmalfoy @ashcannotwrite @colbysbrocks @exonct07 @multilover19 @mimisparkle12

@littlefreaksatellite @vintagebitc @lexi-2004 @melllinaa @xcallmetaniax @brizzlessizzler @haroldpotterson @livinginaglasspalace @delicatekidpeanut @queenanababy

@drinkawinchester @sarahbutnot @salvatoremikaelson54 @furiouscopsherduniversity @marrigold-2002 @angeliquelunasstuff @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @daphnen21 @ietss @imanaforever @itsreynasworld @she-is-a-happy-girl @joeybandthings

@kateisintrouble @stvrdustalexx @fictionisjustbetter @whezzy223

@conradssupporterr @clubmeredith13 @fatduck45 @trampstampz @fangirl-kimora

@just-let-me-fangirl-in-peace @reenfluffmarshmallow @kaz-mf-brekker

@yazmunson @bookg1rl @hockey-lover86

@just-a-pink-lady @moo-b1tch

#tsitp series #tsitp x you #tsitp fanfic #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty fanfic #belly conklin #steven conklin x reader #steven conklin imagine #steven conklin tsitp #tsitp #prime video tsitp #prime video #Conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher

[writer-in-theory]

A Cat Named Eddie — part three.

part one part two part three

--

"I know, I know, Eds," Steve coos the moment the door shuts, pressing a kiss to the top of the cat's head and stepping further into the house. "So much yelling, 'm sorry for scaring you."

"Did you scare my sweet prince? How dare you!" Robin calls from the living room, spun around on the couch to glare at him. Steve rolls his eyes, handing off the cat who immediately curls up in her lap. Traitor.

"No, his namesake did." Steve places his hands on the back of the couch, leaping over it like he might a hurdle to land beside Robin. Both her and Eddie give him the same look: annoyance, irritation, disbelief that he had the gall to disturb them. "Showed up yelling about how he deserves an apology."

"Seriously?" Robin asks, hand stopping her petting of Eddie until the cat nips as a signal to continue. "Bastard," she hisses, looking down at the creature, "you and your namesake."

"Don't call my cat a bastard," Steve says, nudging Robin's elbow with his foot as he extends his legs and leans back against the armrest of the couch.

"Seriously, though. Eddie just showed up and demanded an apology?"

"Yep," Steve pops the 'p' and crosses his arms over his chest.

"That doesn't sound like Eddie," Robin says, raising an eyebrow in his direction. "Is this another moment where I find out how dramatic you are?"

"No," Steve nearly shouts, rolling his eyes at little Eddie's huff of annoyance at his volume. "I'm not dramatic. That's exactly how it happened."

"Steven-"

"My name isn't short for Steven, I've told you-"

"-there is no way it happened like that." Steve wanted to smack her. He also wanted to hug her. Best friends were really confusing sometimes.

"It basically happened like that," Steve corrects himself, leaning forward to pry Eddie off of Robins lap. The cat lasts for a few seconds on his lap before he slides off, curling up between Steve's hip and arm. "He accused me of making fun of him, which was completely off base, then he stands there and demands an apology from me like I'd done something wrong. And get this, Robs, he was looking at me like he did in school, which, fine but it hurts, you know? Then he sees little Eddie and he completely freaks out, acts like I never to—Oh, shit, Robin."

"What?"

"I messed up," Steve breathes, the hand not petting the cat moving to swipe through his hair. "I think I forgot to tell Eddie about Eddie."

He meant to, he really did. But from the first moment the name slipped from his mouth Steve knew it was something big. People didn't just name their pets after people for no reason, not even if they were merely friends. No this was important, and the more Steve thought about confessing to Eddie the more his head swam and his heart raced so hard he thought it might pop free from his chest. So sure, maybe he'd chosen to stop thinking about it.

"Steve! What do you mean?" Robin exclaims, sitting up to show how immersed in the conversation she was.

"Eddie and Eddie Hair-rington haven't met...technically," Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing against the response he knew he'd get from his friend.

"So you've been talking about little Eddie around big Eddie with literally zero context? Dingus!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"How many times has Eddie thought you called him a fucker? Or a bastard? Or a-"

"I get it!" Steve groans, "Still. I've heard the kids call him so much worse, and he didn't..." He didn't what? Didn't lay into their entire personalities? Their interests? Their whole fucking worth? Reduce all of it down to bullshit, bullshit, bullshit?

"You know what my biggest pet peeve is, Stevie?" Robin asks, voice oddly carrying a light lilt despite the heaviness sinking in Steve's chest.

"People stealing your mouthpiece?"

"Ew, no—but yes," Robin shudders. "No, it's when stupid, darling, stupid men don't get their shit together and kiss."

Best friends were terrible and Steve didn't like them, actually. It wasn't that he'd never thought about kissing Eddie—on the contrary, as time went on it became nearly impossible to have an interaction with the man without the thought crossing his mind—but rather that it was so damn obvious to Robin that he wanted to.

"I don't want to kiss Eddie," Steve tries, "I'm mad at him."

"No, dingus, you're heartbroken." She says it simply, like the thought should have occurred to him ages ago. It probably should have, of course, but there's no way Steve would ever tell her that. "And it sounds like he is too. So maybe try...oh I don't know...talking?"

"That's a terrible idea. Plan B."

"Steve," Robin admonishes, and it reminds him too much of when his middle school teacher used to talk to him in that voice, the kind that says she knows he knows what he did wrong. He does.

"Fine, fine! Next time Eddie shows up at Family Video I'll talk to him." Steve smirks, knowing he's already won. Eddie hadn't been in since the day he said such horrible things to Steve, when he left Steve breathless and fighting back shocked tears over realizing how Eddie really thought of him.

"Deal."

--

Steve Harrington should know never to doubt Robin Buckley.

The second Eddie walks through the double doors of Family Video, Steve's head hits the counter. He tucks it into his folded arms, hoping that might help him disappear. Maybe Eddie miraculously lost his idea of object permanence in the past twenty-four hours?

Eddie hits the little bell to signal he needs help. Robin loudly announces that she's going on break despite it being only nine in the morning and a mere hour into their shift. Steve feels like he might lurch over the side of a cliff.

"I don't have a lawn mower," Eddie says, and Steve still doesn't pick his head up from the counter. "I don't have anything to give you that would make up for this."

"I don't need anything from you," Steve says automatically, lifting his head to reveal a gentle smile on Eddie's face, the man's dark eyes shimmering in spite of the shitty fluorescent lights of the shop. "Everything's fine, Eddie."

"It's not," Eddie corrects, but not in the harsh way he'd thrown the words the previous night. He says it in the way he would remind him that Steve's character is a paladin, or that Ozzy was in Black Sabbath not Dio. It was the voice Eddie used when he pointed out the obvious in the kindest, most gentle way anyone could so as to spare Steve the embarrassment.

"It is," Steve insists, "and you know, it's kinda busy in here so—"

"Attention faithful Family Video patrons!" Eddie shouts, climbing up onto the counter and spreading his arms like he had thousands of people watching him instead of the ten or fifteen occupying the building.

"Eddie, c'mon, man, what are you doing?" Steve sighs, cheeks heating up red at all of the eyes staring at the two of them.

"I, Eddie Munson, officially admit that I was wrong. Not all jocks are airheaded and lame," Eddie continues, grinning and winking at one of the women giving him a nasty look. All Steve could do was drop his head into one hand, peering up at the man between his fingers. "Steve Harrington in all his brilliant heroism has shattered the Munson Doctrine forever. That is all, carry on!"

"You really didn't have to do that," Steve says immediately once Eddie hops off the counter into the employee side. "Really."

"Like I said, this was the best I had without a lawn mower."

"You're terrible," Steve responds, though a little smile works its way past the blush on his cheeks.

"I also want to apologize just..." Eddie pauses to glance around the store before looking back at Steve's eyes, then briefly dropping down to look at his lips. Fuck. "Somewhere with less people."

Right, they were still in public. "Right, um...I'm off at 4? Come by the house?"

"I'll be there, Stevie," Eddie promises, stumbling far-less-gracefully back over the counter. Steve laughs, because something about Eddie's persistent earnestness makes it impossible to truly stay mad at him forever.

--

"Okay, listen up, buddy," Steve says seriously once he hears a knock on the door, lifting up Eddie Hair-rington's front paws so he could look him in the eyes. "We've got a new friend coming over, okay? Listen to me really closely. No biting, no scratching, no being a giant chaos monster that feeds off the pain of humans, got it?"

Eddie blinks.

"Glad we understand each other." Steve sets Eddie down, straightening up his own hair before opening the door. "You actually came."

"You thought I wouldn't?" Eddie asks, bouncing on his feet until Steve moves out of the way so he could step into the house.

"I dunno," Steve admits, shrugging once. "You seemed pretty upset before."

"Yeah, I..." Eddie trails off, looking up at the ceiling briefly before refocusing on Steve. "I don't know how to say any of it but-"

"I know I messed up. I should've told you about little Eddie, and I didn't," Steve blurts out, trying to save Eddie at least a bit of explaining. "I should've told you."

"I could've asked," Eddie returns, and yeah he could've. It would've saved a lot of strife, a lot of fucking chest pain and swiped away tears if he would have just—

"Yeah, you should've," Steve admits quietly.

Eddie steps closer, brown eyes nothing but earnest as he speaks. "I didn't mean any of it. Shit, Steve, I don't know why I said half of what I did, I just thought it'd be better to hurt you before you hurt me worse."

"I wouldn't 've," Steve says, trying to ignore the persistent scratching and tugging he feels on his left pant leg. This was too serious a moment, Eddie's eyes were too soft and too vulnerable, and Steve didn't want it all too end before—

"Is that the hero of the hour?" Eddie beams, bending down to grab at little Eddie before Steve can warn him. Eddie, no, the little shit bites everyone, it takes weeks to get him to warm up to you and even then—

"He is such a little asshole," Steve hisses, watching as little Eddie immediately snuggles against Eddie's chest, purring delightedly. Steve points to the cat, who's now looking at him with way too much attitude for such a tiny body. "You're a traitor. Remember who gives you tuna, you tiny gremlin."

"I don't know, Stevie, he seems like an innocent sweetheart to me," Eddie teases, eyes on the cat as he pets little Eddie's ears. "Just like his namesake."

"Uh huh," Steve says in monotone. "I get why you like each other."

"That so?"

"Yeah, you both like torturing me."

"I don't know about that, Steve," Eddie says, stepping closer. His hand stills on little Eddie, moving instead to adjust a piece of stray hair out of Steve's face.

The touch burns in the way it nearly makes Steve gasp, the way it makes him feel like he'd never been alive at all before this moment. He wonders if it was supposed to be like that, or if sometimes he just felt too much too brightly.

"I know I'm giving you a lot of mixed signals, but I really do like you, Steve," Eddie practically whispers.

"You have a lot of making up to do," Steve breathes, chest fluttering at how close Eddie was to him.

"That right?"

"Uh huh," Steve says. "Lots of groveling, cheesy speeches like the stunt you pulled at Video, and definitely bribing little Eddie."

Eddie laughs, a deep sound that rumbles straight through Steve. “I can do that. Little Eds deserves some pampering.”

They would have to talk about it further, the hurt and the missteps and all the ways this could have been avoided. But for now, Steve allows himself to relish in the feeling of Eddie's lips on his.

That is, until a persistent meow causes them to pull apart.

--

Thank you so much for reading everyone! I wouldn't be opposed to writing a lil blurb here and there of Steve, Eddie, and Eddie, so let me know if that's something anyone would want. I'm also going to clean this up a little and put it on Ao3 eventually!

It wouldn't let me tag everyone at once so I'll reblog this with the rest of the people who asked to be tagged in just a minute!

TAGLIST: @estrellami-1 @sjullay @swimmingbirdrunningrock @background-noise-headache @wowimwhatibingewatch @obsessive-anddepressive @krazyperson @nonsense-of-dimitri @whimsicalwitchm @zerokrox-blog @electrick-marionnett @the-redthread @juststeddiebrainrot @dollalicia @vi-an-te @lioniheart @unclewaynemunson @stevesbipanic @ajamlessbaby @qomrades @ivydragon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @apricottree @gleek4twd @messrs-weasley @makewavesandwar @renaissan-vvitch @artiststarme @suikatto @proudbaconatornyoom @ilikechocolatemilkh @0o-queendean-o0 @dangdirtydemons @v3lnys @mybradforddream @giveemhales @gaydrieeen @runtyghost @luthienstormblessed @goggles-mcgee @odetolimerence @paintsplatteredandimperfect @readbythestarlight @slit-wrist @imzadidragonfly

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie headcanon #jay writes in theory

[piratefishmama]

Fake it 'till you make it | Part 19

They did eventually get to the closet, but only because Lynda knocked on the door and followed up with “Steven, when you’re finished unpacking we should really do some grocery shopping, the kitchen is… a little barren. Your father is getting peckish and you and I both know what he’s like when he’s hungry.”

Eddie had looked up at him from where he’d rested his head atop Steve’s chest, big brown eyes curious but the question wasn’t voiced. It didn’t have to be.

“He gets… bitchy, it’s not pretty.” Steve looked back toward the door and responded a little louder with “We’ll be down in about thirty! Got a little… side-tracked!” Eddie’s forehead hit his chest again, and Steve could feel the smile on Eddie’s lips appear against his chest.

“We haven’t been to a drug store, Steven, you better be being safe in there.”

“Not like that!” The drawn out ‘uh-huh’ that Lynda replied with told him that she believed nothing. Guilty until proven innocent, and the pretty set of hickies lining Eddie’s throat were prime evidence that Steve knew she’d eventually use against him. “I was thinking getting something delivered anyway”

“Well, whatever we do, hurry up, plenty of time to kiss your boyfriend later.” And the click of her departing heels down the stairs ended that conversation. They got the closet figured out shortly after. They only had a week at the chalet, and Eddie would have probably just lived out of his suitcase for that long, but unpacking was a thing the Harringtons did, so he got to see his clothes mixed in with preppy polos and extremely soft dark green and maroon sweaters that he had every intention of stealing while there.

He got to see what it’d be like to share his space with someone else. Someone who wanted to share their space with him, not by necessity, not because it’d simply ‘save space’, but by desire to.

He was being very brave about how much that affected him. Very brave indeed. Didn’t even get choked up. Not even a little bit. And sure, Steve may have, after looking at him for a second, felt the totally unrelated need to pause, lift Eddie’s bangs up and plant a kiss atop his forehead that made Eddie’s poor little queer heart do loop de loops.

But that was definitely unrelated.

And then it was back to the ruse. Back to the company of the senior Harringtons downstairs. Lynda taking one look at Eddie, her eyes clearly dipping down below his face, then looked to Steve with the most ‘I know what you’ve been doing’ expression Eddie had ever seen in his life.

He pitied the people who had to go up against this woman in court Jesus H. Christ.

She said nothing on the subject though, content to continue on as if she hadn’t just been telepathically yelling I KNEW IT at her son. It wasn’t even aimed at him yet Eddie still felt the urge to hide behind his own hair in embarrassment. “Have you boys decided on what you want to do? Groceries or delivery?”

“Delivery” Steve wasn’t even flinching. The confidence on that man was astounding. Although seeing the people he came from? Not surprising. “We can go for groceries tomorrow and I haven’t had Tony’s in over a year.”

“Tony’s?” Eddie whispered curiously.

“Pizza” Steve supplied without looking, just leaned a little closer before pulling away again.

“Oh Steven no, it was nothing but grease last time!”

“That’s the best part!”

“I refuse to have a break out at my age Steven, especially one caused by pizza grease. So, unless you can think of another place for delivery, we’re going for groceries and we’ll cook something.” It was like a battle of titans, Steve hands on his hips, cocked in that judgemental mother kind of way, and Lynda with her arms crossed, expression making her appear a cold immovable force of nature.

Neither of them budging.

“Eddie” Eddie jumped as John caught his attention from the left, the man leaning around his wife to address him “tie breaker, as our surprise guest, what do you think we should do?” And then all eyes were on him.

He liked Pizza. He loved pizza, pizza was great, but—but despite his entire life being led going against rich people and their bullshit, he… actually wanted these people to like him. Plus, groceries would be a good idea! They could get snacks, drinks, things they wouldn’t have for the evening if they just settled with Pizza. Could stop at the drug store for. Reasons.

“Uh—Uhm—well… Pizza is good, I like pizza” Steve smiled at him, and he felt bad, just a little, for what he was about to do “but—” the smile fell betrayal, he was betraying his faux boyfriend. He’d pay for that one, undoubtedly. “Groceries would be a better idea, right? I mean if we want food or snacks later we’ll be shit out of luck. So maybe we save pizza for later in the week? So if someone doesn’t want pizza… they have other options?” He was making a very mature decision, thinking very hard, all while Steve looked at him like he’d just kicked his puppy. “Stevieee, baby, don’t—”

“You agreed with my mother—”

“Well as usual, I am right, Steven.”

“Lynda please.” John chastised quietly.

“I am!” Both parents went largely ignored by Eddie in favour of focusing on Steve, who looked appropriately devastated to have been voted against by his own boyfriend.

“Eddie, you—this is just—the betrayal.” And people called him the theatre kid. Eddie, in all his years DMing in Hellfire, had seen many a stubborn meltdown, and so he could have predicted what was about to be said long before Steve voiced it, but it didn’t make him internally judge the man any less, because wow. “Well I’m not driving.” And there it was, the pout. His arms relocating from his hips, to cross over his chest, mirroring his mother. Gone was the need to make it up to him, gone was the feeling of letting down the man who’d rapidly gone from ‘fake boyfriend’ to ‘man of my dreams’.

Eddie just kind of wanted to dunk his head in some snow. Maybe go throw him in the nearby lake.

“Oh that’s really mature, Steven.” Lynda rolled her eyes, and once again, Eddie found himself agreeing. God who was he? Since when did he agree with peoples parents?

“Fine, I can drive.” John clapped his thighs, then rose from his seat “Eddie, since you’re clearly the only other adult in this room, how about you come with me.” It may have put the eldest of the Harringtons in the hot seat to say, both his son and his wife turning the daggers on him, but Eddie felt a sliver of respect for the man just creeping up on him because damn, maybe he was bitchy when he was hungry. “Let the children cool down for an hour or so.” Good lord almighty, why was this attractive?

Oooh don’t go there, brain.

“O—okay, okay yeah, uhm… will… will you be okay, Steve?” Steve gave him an exaggerated eye roll that absolutely did nothing to make Eddie feel bad. In fact it did the exact opposite. “Fine you big baby. And people call me dramatic.” He was going to give Steve a quick peck goodbye, but Steve didn’t deserve one!

So, he left with that, following John to the car leaving the mother and son duo seething in the living room. Glorious.

Part 21

#PirateWrites #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Fake Dating AU #they're honestly as bad as each other

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Can I request something with Jake as the reader is nervous, and she says 'let's talk' and Jake thinks she is breaking up with the system, but she tells him that she's pregnant. Happy ending though pls 😇

~Everything Changes~

Pairing: Moonknight trio (Jake focus) x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: anxieties and brief mentions of childhood traumas

Genre: fluffy af and just a little angst

Summary: You have news for your boyfriends that you do not know how they'll take and your anxieties cause some for them

A/N: This was actually SUCH a cute ask thank you for requesting it I fell in love with the concept immediately, hope you enjoy the result <3

***

You sigh to yourself as you dig through your bag for the keys to your apartment. Like always you shout into the apartment once you open the door.

"I'm back darling are y'all home yet?" You ask, flicking on the main light in the living room. The apartment's too quiet for your boyfriends to be back. It looks like you beat the boys home. That's fine, better even, gives you time to sort out the best way to break the news to them. You honestly have no idea how this conversation is going to go, you've been noticeably distracted thinking about it pretty much all day.

You take a few moments to just sit with yourself in the silence of your empty apartment before putting on some music to get dinner started. Something simple, you know Steven had work today but you can never predict who will actually be fronting by the time they get home. If Donna was particularly horrendous on any given day Jake would take over. If something Khonshu related happened usually Marc would be the one shuffling into your shared home. You wonder how that's going to play into it now that things are about to change so drastically. You're not quite done when the door to the apartment clicks open.

"Hi lovelies." You shoot over your shoulder.

"You're home already?" Jake greets you once the door's open.

"Yeah, but I've not been home long."

"Dinner smells great mi vida." Jake kisses your cheek.

"Thank you, darling. I've made pasta and chicken. I know you're not particularly fond of vegan dishes." You say.

"Well I like yours cariño, your food doesn't taste awful and bland like what I've mostly seen of vegan food."

"Well I appreciate that sentiment I suppose, but I know you still prefer nonvegan." You chuckle.

"That's true, yes, but I'll probably have both anyway." Jake shrugs.

"Was work particularly bad for Steven today?"

"No actually, that horrid Donna woman was out sick, but I missed you. Steven was with you this morning and Marc was out most of last night. Only fair I get some quality time of my own. We agreed."

"You boys are so silly." You laugh.

"Steven wants you to know it's only you that makes us act that way."

"How cute." You muse.

"Yeah he's quite the sweet talker. How was your day?"

"It was fine, I worked through most of the morning and then I had some errands to run." You shrug.

"What sort of errands?"

"A little of this a little of that, some shopping, some dropping off of things, meeting people." You say vaguely. "Dinner's about done, can you grab some plates and forks?"

"Of course." Jake joins you in the kitchen getting plates and utensils while you turn off the oven and the stove. You pull the chicken out of the oven and Jake grabs one and drops it on his plate before you've even put the tray down.

"It's hot Jake be careful!" You warn him as you spoon pasta onto your own plate.

"No worries muñequita, I'll be fine." Jake winks.

"You all always eat like you haven't had any food all day." You shake your head taking a seat on the couch. Jake scoops pasta onto his plate and joins you as you pick something to watch.

"Your food is too good to not." He says. You roll your eyes at him but you don't bother to respond as you start eating. Both of you are pretty quiet through dinner, mostly discussing the show you've chosen to watch through dinner. You still have to talk to them but the words keep getting stuck in your throat. You wish you weren't so worried but this could easily go very wrong. When Jake finishes his meal he stands and kisses your cheek.

"I'll take care of the dishes and then I'm going to hop in the shower." Jake tells you, taking your empty plate from the table.

"Alright." You nod. Okay y/n suck it up, you can't put it off forever. "When you're finished darling we, need to talk." You announce before you can talk yourself out of it again.

"That- sounds ominous. Is everything okay? Should I hold off on the dishes?" 

"No no, you can finish up it's not- urgent." You tell him. Jake washes his hands and turns off the sink.

"What's this about cariño?" Jake asks walking over to you as he dries his hands.

"I have something to tell you- but I'm not sure how you'll react to it." You tell him when he sits beside you.

"You're breaking up with us, aren't you? We should've known this would happen eventually. I warned them you'd grow tired of us. We've exhausted our good fortune I guess- it was only a matter of time before you realized we didn't deserve-"

"Enough. Jake!" You blink at him utterly stunned by his line of thinking.

"You don't have to-"

"Whatever you're about to say, stop because I'm not breaking up with you and I cannot believe you think I'd grow tired of you. How could you sit here and say you don't deserve me or what we have or- Jake, I love you, all of you, with everything that I am. I can't believe that you still doubt that." You shake your head.

"Y/n no one has ever stuck around. Steven is idealistic and Marc is hopeful, if the other shoe drops one of us has to be able to hold it together for all of us I can't-"

"Jake. There is no other shoe to drop. I am not breaking up with you. I'm not tired of you or giving up on us, I don't think you undeserving of the love I have for you. Other people not loving you is not your fault." You tell him gently, grabbing his face in your hands.

"I do want to believe you but it's not easy to unlearn years of trauma plus what else could you possibly have to tell us that you think we'll take poorly?"

"Jake I'm pregnant." You say. Jake's eyes snap up to yours, wide with shock but you can't pinpoint the secondary emotion swirling in them.

"What?" His voice is barely a whisper.

"I'm pregnant. I was at the doctor today about it, we- could have a baby." You say gently, placing a hand on your stomach. You're only a couple of months along so, if they really were against the idea, terminating the pregnancy is still an option but you're not sure you could go through that and be okay after.

"We're going to be parents?" He asks.

"I know we haven't really talked about kids but-" Jake leaps off the couch before you can finish your thought. As if the news only just clicked in his brain he's suddenly whooping loudly. He even pulls you off of the couch with him.

"We're having a child? You're serious?" He scans your face as he waits for your answer.

"Yeah." You nod.

"You're not leaving." He shakes his head.

"No." You answer even though it was less a question and more a confirmation with himself. He pulls you tightly against his chest with a sigh.

"We're having a child muñequita. A child." He says in disbelief. "Do you think we're ready for this?"

"I don't think anyone is ever ready. But we will all figure it out. Together." You say. Jake makes a sound like a snort and you pull away from his embrace with a questioning glance.

"Steven is scolding me for ever daring to think you'd break up with us." Jake tells you with an eye roll.

"Well he's right about that but save the scolding for later sweetheart. Right now let's just- enjoy the thought of this next phase of our lives." You say leaning into Jake's arms again. You had no reason to worry. You knew they would make wonderful dads and it settled your nerves endlessly to hear the joy in Jake's voice over the news. Everything was going to turn out just fine.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #moonknight fluff #moonknight x reader #moonknight fanfiction #jake lockley fanfiction #jake lockley fluff #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fluff #steven grant x reader #steven grant #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector fluff #marc spector x reader #marc spector #requests

[h4arts]

belly conklin x fem! reader. where the reader is conrad’s best friend from school, and at first belly finds herself feeling jealous, but then she realizes she has a HUGE crush on her, and then they kiss!!

jealous, belly conklin -synopsis: since the age of twelve, belly had been jealous of your relationship with conrad. turns out, she was jealous of him the whole time. -warnings: underage drinking, kissing, angst with happy ending, very vague mention of a man not taking no for an answer, fem reader -notes: i got way carried away on this one, it's really long, i hope it's what you wanted!

Belly loved the summer house and the people in it. It was an extension of herself, the one constant she always counted down to, looked forward to, hated to leave, and always wanted to go back to. It had always been the Fisher and Conklin families, before Belly was born and long after she realized how joyous the place was. The summer she turned twelve, it became different though. That was the first summer she met you.

Conrad had spent the better half of a year begging his parents to let you go with them, that you were his best friend and he'd hate to leave you behind where all you'd have of this magical place were the stories he'd have when he got back. That's what Susannah had told Laurel when she questioned who you were. Belly just happened to overhear.

Belly hadn't cared much at the time. She'd thought that maybe another girl would mean less teasing, less jokes made at her expense. But as the summer progressed, she also felt jealous that you had just as much if not more attention from the boys as she did. They became your friends as much as they were hers. She decided then that she wished Conrad would've kept his school friends at school.

You had left a couple weeks early that summer, and Belly was glad things had gone back to normal for her last days at the beach house. It was just like it had been last summer, except it wasn't. You still lingered in the air, Conrad still talked about you and even Jeremiah and Steven did too. Belly found herself hoping as she got in the car that you wouldn't be back next year. That next summer would be the Fishers and the Conklins, no one else.

───☆───

The next summer had come, and Belly would be thirteen. It would be like any other birthday, just the parents, the boys, and her. But nearing closer to the beach house from the drive way, she knew by the laughter in the living room that you were back. Steven ran inside with Jeremiah who was previously helping with bags. Laurel gave a gentle squeeze to Belly's shoulder with a reassuring smile before following her son inside.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Belly promised herself she wouldn't let you bother her this summer. The beach house was supposed to be for happy memories and a fun summer. She wouldn't ruin that, even if she didn't like the changes it came with.

Inside, Belly was surprised when you stood to greet her with a hug, the smell of your perfume lingering even after you pulled away to help Laurel carry bags. It wasn't so strong it burned Belly's nose, but it was present enough to leave a mark that said 'I was here'.

That summer, she got sick and had to stay inside for a few days until she was better. The boys left every day without her but you stayed back and ate popsicles with her. You watched her favorite films with her and played various games with her. Then when the boys came back at night, you'd leave her with Susannah and Laurel to go hang out with them.

Even when she got better and the boys left to go camp at the beach like they had in a previous summer, there you were, trying to roast marshmallows over the living room fireplace so she could have smores too. When she asked where you'd gotten the supplies, you'd responded that Jeremiah was easy to bribe out of food with the right trade.

Belly had to admit to herself that maybe your presence wasn't so bad, that if you came back next summer, she wouldn't be so upset by it. She finally liked not being left alone or stuck with the moms watching old films, though she did enjoy it.

She was starting to think that maybe you weren't the worst thing to happen, but all those thoughts came crashing down one day at the boardwalk. Conrad asked her to go after they'd both been left alone in the house. He bought her a caramel apple, he walked down the pier with her, and when he asked to go play ring toss, Belly understood why he'd brought her. She remembered a conversation between you and Conrad earlier in the week when you and Steven had gone to the boardwalk by yourselves. You came back talking about a giraffe they had on the prize wall at the ring toss game.

When Belly approached the stand with Conrad, she saw him look right at it. She realized then that there was probably more behind the title 'best friend' when he spoke about you or when you laughed at something he'd whisper in your ear as everyone left dinner. She dragged him over to the ring toss game and said to win a prize. She walked away from him, leaving him to the pretty girl working the game.

Conrad found her later, confused as to why she didn't come back. In his hands were two prizes, which surprised Belly. He held out a polar bear with sunglasses to her. "They said it was the best prize they had." Belly took it, her other hand pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

"I like the giraffe better. Thanks though." Belly walked away, leaving Conrad standing in the middle of the food court with the stuffed giraffe he'd won for you.

Belly cried that night. She was jealous, Conrad had dragged her all the way out to the boardwalk to win you the stuffed animal you'd seen with Steven. It wasn't fair, that's what she told Taylor when she got back home before school. Belly hadn't said goodbye back to you that summer, too sick with dislike to say it with any meaning.

Belly hoped more than anything you wouldn't come back next summer, but she knew you would, so she would bring Taylor. She thought maybe with her best friend there, the thought of you and Conrad would be distracted from her mind.

───☆───

It was mid-June, and Belly absolutely regretted bringing Taylor. She was only concerned with seeking Jeremiah's attention, leaving barely any of her own for Belly. Meanwhile, Belly had to sit on the sidelines and watch you and Conrad. Racing to the ocean, sharing huge bowls of ice cream, sitting next to each other at dinner, talking in hushed whispers and laughing so loud it rattled her heart.

Belly had brought Taylor hoping it would distract her from you, but she was constantly with Taylor, which meant you had all of your time to spend with Conrad. It shouldn't have mattered to Belly as much as it did, you were here for him anyways. He was the only reason you were there.

Later in the summer, Jeremiah wanted Belly and Taylor to be the judges of a surfing competition. Belly thought it would be just him and Steven, she hadn't seen you or Conrad all day, but then you both showed up, surfboards tucked under your arms as he laughed and you just watched with a smile.

Belly stood up to leave, everyone else was too busy to notice. Taylor was transfixed on Jeremiah who was already running out to the water with Steven, you and Conrad still stood in the sand laughing, hiding in the shade behind your surfboards.

Laurel watched her daughter walk in the back door, shoulders hunched and a frown etched deep into her face. "What's wrong? Are you not having fun out there?"

"I don't want her here." Belly mumbled, sitting on the couch between her mother and Susannah who held a glass of iced tea in her hands. The ice was making the cup sweat, so when Susannah reached out to Belly, her hand was cool and wet. She would've hated anyone else doing that, but it wasn't anyone else, it was comforting because it was Susannah.

"You don't have to bring her next year." Belly's frown deepened. They thought she meant Taylor. And it was true, she didn't want Taylor there anymore, but she meant it about you. She was tired of looking at you having so much fun with Conrad. She was sick of watching you do everything with him. She hated that you were with him all year round and she was only there in the summer.

Usually when summer came to an end, Belly hated having to leave the beach house. All she wanted was to stay there forever. But this year, she was ready to go. She was ready to escape the jealousy she felt every time she looked at you and Conrad. She was upset with Taylor and Steven who she caught kissing at the beach after Taylor promised not to hurt Jeremiah. It felt like that whole summer was just them falling apart. Before Belly got in the car, she tried to avoid the painful goodbyes. Not because she was sad, but because she couldn't stand to leave this place with her last memory being of you. You always said goodbye last and you would hug her and she wouldn't say anything, leaving you standing there in the driveway like she had the last two years. She couldn't handle it, not after this summer's chaos.

She wasn't fast enough though, or maybe you had come outside earlier. Belly watched you walk down the porch steps, Steven's hand wrapped around your elbow as he said something stupid, judging by the way your eyes squinted in confusion before Steven shook his head, signaling to dismiss what he had said. He walked around to the other side of the car, and Belly turned to get in before you said anything. To her misfortune, you were faster, wrapping your arms around her shoulders in the same hug you gave her every time you said goodbye.

"Goodbye, Belly. Have a good year. I'm sorry we didn't see each other much." You spoke in a whisper, just like always. It annoyed her. She didn't hug you back, she didn't say anything. She pulled away, turned towards the car, and got in. Not once did she look back, she never did. Belly had done this every summer since you arrived, she couldn't stand you any longer than she had to.

As Laurel drove away, Steven turned up the music he had on aux. Taylor was staring down at her phone, tapping away furiously. Belly could still feel the cool press of your rings on her sun warmed skin, she could still hear the softness of your voice, she could still smell the faintness of your perfume that was carried in the wind.

Next summer, Belly wouldn't pay you any attention. She wouldn't watch one more summer of you and Conrad when all she could do was sit and watch.

───☆───

As soon as the car stopped, Belly swung open the car door and stepped out into the gleaming sunlight. The cool breeze felt good on her skin, it was the feeling she'd been waiting for all year. She was so glad to finally be back in Cousins for the summer, forgetting all about what happened the last time she was here.

The front door to the beach house flew open, and Jeremiah ran outside, followed by Conrad and Susannah who lingered back a bit. They all shared hugs and greetings, until Steven finally asked where you were. It was the question Belly had purposefully tried to ignore.

"She's not gonna be here for a while, her cousin's getting married." Conrad answers, and Steven seems upset with the answer but drops it. Belly wished it would take longer than just a while for you to get to the house. But, it made easing into summer that much better. She hadn't been the only girl in the beach house since she was eleven. It was just like old times, Belly, Steven, Conrad, and Jeremiah. They went swimming in the ocean, had lunch by the pool, Belly watched movies with the moms while they boys went to a party. Belly had gone to sleep every day for a week with a smile.

One morning when she woke up though, that peace was gone. Belly had gone downstairs for breakfast, only to find you standing in the kitchen with Jeremiah, flipping pancakes and dodging the strawberries Steven was throwing at you. Belly frowned, you were there early. It had only been one week. Conrad mentioned exactly that, moving down the stairs around Belly to greet you. Even he hadn't known you'd arrive early.

"My cousin and her partner are going a few hours south of here to meet other family that can't make the wedding. This is just a pit stop so I thought I'd say hi." While you spoke, Steven threw two more strawberries at you, neither of which you were able to dodge. Belly watched from the stairs as Conrad tried to wipe the stains off the white shirt you wore. They were noticeable, right in the center of your torso. "It's not a big deal." You told him, taking the towel from Conrad's hand. Belly's stomach twisted, he smiled at you so easily, and your hand was on top of his before taking the towel. Jeremiah and Steven didn't even notice, taste testing the pancakes. Belly turned around and went back upstairs.

She didn't come back until the afternoon, preparing herself to see you standing with Conrad again. Against everything in her, she'd put on the smallest bit if mascara and lip gloss, hoping she'd be noticed better. Maybe the attention wouldn't be on you then, and she wouldn't have to see Conrad staring at you. You were gone by the time she stepped of the last stair. Jeremiah told her you'd left an hour ago when she asked.

Belly went back upstairs to take off the mascara and lip gloss. She changed into her swimsuit and rushed back down stairs, diving straight into the pool. She hoped Jeremiah hadn't noticed the makeup when she asked where you were, she didn't need it if you weren't there. She wouldn't see you with Conrad, that was all she put it on for to begin with.

On the day of her birthday, Belly still hadn't seen you since the surprise visit. She opened her gifts from everyone, they all had pancakes for breakfast, per her request. Conrad had asked if she wanted to go to the boardwalk, Belly agreed. Steven and Jeremiah ended up going too, but they went straight to the arcade as soon as they arrived. Conrad followed Belly to all the things she wanted to do, until it led them to a picnic table for a snack.

Belly didn't think it was a good idea to ask, but she had to know. She asked Conrad why he was friends with you. Belly wanted to know what was so important about you that he couldn't even leave you back for two months to be at the beach house.

"She's been my best friend for years. I've known her almost as long as I've known you. I just never really talked to her until the year before I first brought her here." Conrad shrugged, he didn't understand the importance of the question. But now that Belly had asked it and received the wrong answer, she didn't understand why it was important for her to know either. But she'd already asked, she wanted a real answer.

"That isn't what I asked you." Conrad sighed at that. He took a long sip of his drink and paused, almost as if he really had to think about the answer. Maybe he was just trying to avoid it.

"She was there for me when I needed someone." He answered shortly.

"And no one else was?"

"That's not what I meant." She knew. But she wanted a real answer, not a vague one, not one that could be misinterpreted. And she'd already asked twice. There clearly wasn't anything special about you, or Conrad wanted to keep something about your relationship secret. Either of those explanations would've confirmed Belly's suspicions.

"She just, she makes people feel safe with her even if they don't know her. She's just got that about her, y'know?" Belly had never heard Conrad say that about anyone. But, it made sense to her now though, why he would drag you miles from your own home and family every summer just to spend that extra time with you. It also made sense to her that you were more than his best friend, and she had a feeling she knew just how much more.

"Hey guys, guess who I just saw outside!" Jeremiah ran up to their table, Steven trailing a safe distance behind. Belly and Conrad stood up, following Jeremiah and Steven to the exit. The sun was setting, Belly hadn't realized how long they'd been there.

Just as Jeremiah said, you stood in the parking lot alone, a jacket draped over your folded arms. Belly guessed you'd come straight from the reception, judging by your slightly smudged makeup and the dress you wore that rippled softly around your legs in the breeze. Once you saw them, you reached into the bag hanging from your shoulder and handed each of them a pressed flower.

"My cousin saved me the leftover ones for my room. I don't need all the ones she gave me." The boys clutched onto them like it was all they'd ever have of you, observing every inch of their flower like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Belly put hers in her pocket. She didn't look back at you after she did, not wanting to know if you'd seen her do it.

Back at the house that night, Belly sat in her room, looking at the clock every so often. It was late for her to still be up, even for it being summer. Everyone was asleep, so she got ready to go for a night swim. This was the latest she had ever gone, so there was no chance Susannah would come down tonight. She'd have the pool all to herself, but she was wrong.

On a chair across the deck from the door, you sat looking out to the stars above the ocean. Hearing the creak of the door, you look back to see Belly standing there, a towel tightly clutched in her hand. Belly was surprised when you didn't smile at her before you looked away. You always did, and it felt odd to Belly that you didn't. She wondered if something happened, if you were upset with her about the flower or if you finally gave up on trying to be nice to her.

Belly considered going to sit next to you, but as she walked farther out from the deck, she saw the look on your face, illuminated by the moonlight. You weren't mad, or sad, or upset. You were just there. There was nothing wrong, so Belly dropped the towel on the closest chair to the pool and dove in. She swam her laps, took short breaks to just float, and every time she looked back at you, you were still there, eyes never once leaving the sky.

Finally feeling tired, Belly got out of the pool and wrapped herself in the towel. She headed towards the door to go back inside, but something made her stop. Something made her want to go sit with you and watch the stars, just for a bit. You still didn't look away from the sky as Belly sat next to you, and she didn't say anything. She tucked her knees up to her chin to fully wrap the towel around herself and she watched the stars with you.

She had no idea what you were thinking, or if you were even thinking about anything at all, so she quietly kept an eye out for any shooting stars until you suddenly moved your hand to your pocket. Belly jumped slightly, not expecting you to move. You pulled out a small box and handed it to Belly.

"Happy birthday, Belly." Then you turned back to the stars. She carefully removed the lid from the box, revealing a small starfish charm glinting delicately in the light from the moon. "For the charm bracelet you've got. It's to remind you of this place even when you aren't here. I know how much you love it here." That was all you said, and Belly assumed it's all you would say.

She stared down at the charm, and thought back to what Conrad had said earlier at the boardwalk. She makes people feel safe with her even if they don't know her. She's just got that about her, y'know? Belly now knew how true that really was. Even back when she first met you, you had been the one to make sure she never felt left out, you'd sit with her when she was sick or when the boys would leave without her. You'd always tell her to have a good year when she left and you meant it every time, even when she left you standing in the driveway without saying anything back. You'd gotten her something to remember this place and all the amazing memories it held.

Belly realized there was nothing about you that she could hate. Not the way your voice lingered in her head all the way home at the end of the summer, not your perfume that she could smell long after you'd vanished from sight, not the cooling metal of your rings that came with every touch or hug you gave her, not the welcoming smile you always wore. Even tonight, when she first walked out the door and saw you. She realized if it had been anyone else besides Susannah, she would have turned around and gone back inside. For some reason, it didn't bother her that you were out there with her. She felt safe.

"Good night, Belly." Belly looked up from the charm to see you already halfway back inside. "Don't stay up too late, you'll hate yourself for it in the morning." You were gone before Belly could say anything back. She wished she would've said something, she didn't even say thank you. It made her think about every summer she never said anything back, never hugged you back, never looked back.

Summer was over fast after you got there. Belly didn't try to avoid your goodbyes this time, but she was confused now. Why was she now realizing that all the things she thought she hated about you, she didn't and never had? She still didn't hug you back. She still didn't say goodbye. But halfway down the street, she looked back. It was the first time she ever did, and she wished she hadn't. Your arms were crossed over yourself, the same way she did when she felt bad. You were frowning, and then Conrad was at your side, wrapping an arm wound your shoulder and leading you back inside, a gentle smile on his face. Had it always been that way?

───☆───

It was spring break now, and Belly was still confused about last summer. She tried talking to Taylor about it, but she couldn't form the right words. All those times she saw you with Conrad, was it really you she was jealous of? Or was it just wishing that she was doing those things with you instead. Did she hate your goodbye hugs because if she hugged back she wouldn't let go? She missed the nights the boys left and it was just you and her, making your own jokes to laugh at. She finally recognized that she wanted to be the one you turned to, not Conrad.

Her whole life, she was so sure she wanted Conrad, for him to want her and to be with him. Now she wasn't sure that's what she'd wanted. Maybe deep down, she'd wanted the giraffe at the boardwalk because you wanted it, and it was subconsciously as close to you as she could get at the time.

Belly had stared at her phone for hours over the course of spring break, debating whether or not to call. She had no idea what she would say if she did, but she didn't like being confused over it. Time kept passing and Belly never called. And before she even knew it, school was out, exams were done, and she was packing her bags to go back to Cousins.

The ride there was the same as always, but when the car pulled in to the drive, only Jeremiah was on the porch waiting. He hugged Steven first before Laurel made her way over to ask about Susannah, to which Jeremiah responded that she was inside sleeping. Conrad came around the house a few moments later, pausing at the sight of them like he'd forgotten they were coming. He quickly greeted them before Steven announced it time for a 'Belly flop'. Conrad and Jeremiah were quick to follow. Belly looked around for you, but you weren't there. She guessed you were inside somewhere, waiting for them.

When Belly hit the water, she heard a new tone of voice added over the laughter of the boys. Swimming back to the surface, she saw you over Conrad's shoulder. You were smiling, hitting Steven's shoulder playfully. Belly swam over to the edge of the pool where you met her and kneeled down to help her out of the water. Once you were both sitting on the ground, you pulled Belly in for a hug, getting the front of your shirt wet. You both laughed and for the first time, Belly hugged you back. Things were going to be different that summer, she'd make sure of it.

Something was already different, though. Jeremiah and Conrad had never really paid her much attention before, but their stares had lingered a little longer than they ever had. Even Susannah had said Belly looked prettier, and she wondered if maybe your stare would linger as long as the boys' had. She hoped so.

The bonfire party came later in the week, and to Belly's disappointment, you'd spent most of that time with Conrad more than anyone else. Steven had told her not to go, and that he wouldn't be responsible for her. Belly didn't really want to go, but if was the only time she'd get to see you, she would go.

She called Taylor that night, asking her friend's opinion on what to wear. The call consisted of less help than meaningless bickering about what she should say to you. After the call had ended, Belly stared at her reflection in the mirror. She wondered if the dress she'd put on would even be noticeable to you, or if you would even care.

A thud echoed from across the hall, breaking Belly's thoughts. She went to see where the noise had come from, which led her to your room. Before she could say anything, the door flew open, revealing you in a shorter dress than you'd worn before and your makeup that hadn't been redone since the morning. You were shocked to see Belly standing there, waiting for you to say something.

"I heard something fall." Belly watched the crease between your brows even out, the confusion leaving your face.

"I just knocked my phone over. No big deal." You shrugged, stepping out of your room and closing the door behind you. "Are you going to the party?" You ask, eyes tracing over the dress Belly wore.

"Oh, um, yeah. Don't tell Steven though." Belly looked down, realizing that Steven would see her once she got there, so you telling him wouldn't even matter.

"Don't worry about him, go and have fun. He can be mad later, you look great." You put an arm around Belly's shoulders, leading her to the stairs so you could go.

Steven, Conrad, and Jeremiah had already left, the party was undoubtedly already in full swing. Belly would have questioned why you didn't go with them, but she knew from Conrad and Jeremiah's stories that you were always late to parties anyways.

Belly went around to the passenger side of your car, waiting for you to get your keys. She glanced in the window of the backseat and saw in the small amount of moonlight a stuffed giraffe in the middle seat. The one Conrad won at the boardwalk. A frown pulled at her lips as you walked outside, unlocking the car. Belly immediately got in, looking out the window. Getting in the car yourself, Belly felt your eyes on her, and when she looked at your reflection in the window, she saw the worry in them.

"We don't have to go. We can stay back and watch movies." You say, pausing to put the key in the ignition.

"No. I want to go." Belly still didn't look back, but she truly did want to go now. She couldn't go back inside and go to bed. It felt like every time she thought maybe she had a chance, Conrad came right back. The giraffe in your backseat was proof enough that she was right. She was going to the party, either with you or someone else to distract her from that thought.

"Okay." The car started, and the whole drive, Belly didn't look anywhere but out the window. You'd glance at her once in a while, making sure she was still okay. Belly tried to ignore it, just focusing on the music softly playing from the radio.

Barely waiting for the car to park along the crowded street, Belly tried to open the door. You locked it before she could, causing her to groan in annoyance. "Promise you'll tell me if you want to leave."

"Fine." Belly still didn't look at you, and she tried the door again. "Just unlock the door so we can go."

"Look at me, Belly." Finally, she turned to look at you, one hand still on the door and frowning. "Promise, or I'll turn around."

"I promise." Her shoulders deflated into a more relaxed posture, and you unlocked the door. Belly split from you as soon as you got to the crowd of people drinking and laughing. She needed a minute alone before she could go back to you or she got caught by Steven.

"Hey, Belly!" Jeremiah was walking over to her, a full solo cup in his hand. He held it out to her, and laughed at the grimace on her face as she looked down at it. "Don't worry, it's just water. I'm driving tonight."

She took the cup, from him and downed about half of the water before handing it back. Her nervousness had dried her throat. Jeremiah just shook his head with a smile. "Wait, how'd you get here? Some creep didn't drag you here, right?" It was Belly's turn to laugh, and she shook her head, explaining she'd come with you.

"Actually, did you see where she went?" Jeremiah squinted, trying to remember if he'd seen you.

"I don't think I've seen her yet, I mean you just got here, right? Maybe Steven knows, he was hanging around by the fire." He responds, turning to go in the direction Steven was.

"No, I don't want him to know I'm here yet." Belly stops him, and Jeremiah frowns but doesn't argue.

"I can ask Conrad." Belly nods, and Jeremiah leaves the cup of water with her as he goes racing off to find his brother.

A few minutes later, Jeremiah comes back, reaching for the water cup back from Belly. He took a long drink before answering Belly's previous question about your whereabouts. "She's actually with him right now. They're over by the water." Jeremiah points towards the ocean in a vague pattern, but Belly thanks him anyway and makes her way down the beach.

However, as Belly got closer, she stopped, trying to register what was happening in front of her. You were kissing Conrad, and clearly so distracted you didn't even notice the tide getting the side of your shoe wet. Your hands were in his hair and his arms were around your waist and Belly felt so upset that she almost didn't notice the man standing a few feet from you drop his cup and walk away.

Steven suddenly appeared with Jeremiah and a girl she hadn't seen before, and she was too frozen to even consider trying to run away before Steven saw her. "Belly, what are you doing here?" Her eyes turned to Steven who was quickly approaching her, she hadn't seen you when you appeared next to her, gently taking her arm and leading her away before Steven got to her.

"Let me go!" Belly tried to pull her arm away from you. You didn't let her go until you were both a safe distance from the crowd on the beach.

"Belly, just breathe." You stood in front of her, and she tried to move around you. "Belly." You blocked her again.

"Just let me go."

"Go where? And who with?" Belly didn't know, she just wanted away from you, and Conrad, and Steven. She didn't know when her tears started falling, or when you hugged her and she fought against your hold until she finally gave up. She let you run your hand up and down her arm to soothe her, you let her cry into your shoulder. "I'm sorry." You whispered.

Belly realized she'd been right, that it had always been you and Conrad. No matter how badly she hoped, it would never be you and her. Maybe she could've changed that if she'd been nicer all those past summers, maybe if she would've matched your efforts to be there, that could've been her you kissed on the beach.

"Let's go home, okay?" Belly nodded, she let you lead her back to your car. Even when you'd gotten home, she let you lead her up to her room, wash the light makeup she had on off her face and laid out a change of clothes. After you'd left her with a 'goodnight', Belly lay awake staring at her ceiling. The summer had just started, she couldn't handle watching you and Conrad all summer. She had barely tolerated it in previous summers. It would hurt worse to see it knowing for certain that you loved him.

She wasn't sure how long she had laid there when she heard stumbling on the stairs followed by a string of quiet curses. She heard you and Jeremiah say goodnight before Jeremiah's door closed and Conrad's swung open, hitting the wall before there was a long pause of silence.

Belly quietly got out of her bed and went to her door, cracking it open just enough to see what was happening. You were backing out of Conrad's room, whispering something she couldn't hear before shutting his door. Belly closed her own door, it wasn't loud, but it was audible. She stood behind her now closed door, listening as you stopped on the other side of it.

"Belly," She didn't respond, she didn't move. She just stood and stared right at the door where your face you be if she opened it. You sighed. "Good night." Belly listened until the sound of your footsteps quieted and your door squeaked shut across the hall.

Belly couldn't fall asleep, even after she had been back in her bed for an hour. She couldn't stop thinking about what she'd seen at the party, what you might've told Conrad before you shut his door, what you probably did the rest of the year when you weren't at the beach house. She wondered if you slept more peacefully than her, not knowing how badly Belly's heart was breaking.

The next morning, Belly didn't want to leave her bed. She didn't want to see you and Conrad, it would just make last night more real. Unfortunately for her, her mother walked in at the exact second she turned away from the door to go back to sleep.

"Belly, you need to get up. It's already late." Laurel sat on the edge of her daughter's bed, pulling the sheets off Belly's head.

"No. Can't I just sleep today?"

"It's summer Belly, go out in the sun, you can sleep tonight." Laurel sighed, standing up and going back to the door. She told Belly that you, Conrad, and Steven had gone to get drinks and muffins. Belly got up then. She thought she could go downstairs, eat something, and escape the house before you got back. Jeremiah was the only one at the time Belly could stand to see without being lectured or heartbroken.

"Finally! I thought I was gonna have to sit out on the surfing competition today." Jeremiah smiled up at Belly as she entered the kitchen, grabbing a box of cereal and a bowl, taking the milk from the counter before Jeremiah could refill his glass.

"I'm not going." Belly said, stuffing a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. Jeremiah rolled his eyes.

"Of course you are, Steven's an unfair judge."

"No I am not!" Steven appeared in the doorway, a box balanced on one arm and a coffee cup in the other. Belly froze, she hadn't made it out in time.

"Yes you are, you give us all twos at best." Conrad followed after Steven with another box.

"That's not true." Steven argues, sliding Jeremiah's cup over to set down the box he carried.

"It so is. Just because we're better than you." Belly didn't look anywhere but her bowl of cereal, your voice was the last one she wanted to hear right now.

"Shut up, just because you went to a fancy camp-"

"No I did not!" You and Steven continued the banter as you set down the drink carriers balanced in your hands. Conrad opened the muffin boxes, mindlessly reaching for one as his eyes full of amusement never once left you and Steven you were now pushing each other.

"Hey! Watch the food, some people are actually hungry." Childishly, Steven stuck his tongue out at Jeremiah, who in turn rolled his eyes.

"Didn't your mom tell you we were bringing muffins?" Belly looked up for the first time since you got back. The boys had left the kitchen with their plates of muffins and drinks.

"Yeah, I didn't want to wait. I thought you'd be longer." Belly lied, putting her bowl in the sink and muttering that she'd come back later to clean it. She quickly left to go back to her room, getting right back into her bed.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at her door before it was gently pushed open. You walked in with a plate of muffins and two drinks balanced in your hands. Walking over to Belly, you held out one of the drinks, sitting next to her. Once Belly had taken the drink, you set the plate down in front of her on the bed.

"I know you're upset with me Belly." She looked at you, pretending not to know what you meant. "I would've talked to you about it last night, but I think it was best we both slept off a bit of emotion before talking." Belly looked away, she wasn't ready to have this conversation yet. Not last night, not now, probably not ever. Her heart couldn't take it. "Talk to me, and if you still hate me after we talk, I'll leave you be."

"Do you love him?" Belly's voice was hardly above a whisper, but you heard, and with a small sigh, you answered, knowing exactly who she was talking about.

"He's my best friend, Belly. He has been for years. There's a thing about a friend like that, that just becomes a part of you and your life. I do love him, very much. But I'm not in love with him and he's not in love with me." You explain gently, eyes never leaving the side of her face.

"So why'd you kiss him?" Belly looked at you, there was a certain sadness in them that broke your heart.

"Because some people don't listen to words like they do actions." That's when Belly remembered the man that had stormed away from you before Steven and Jeremiah showed up. She hadn't thought anything of it when it happened, too focused on her own heart breaking.

"Oh." Belly took a sip of her drink. Maybe she had misread the whole thing.

"You can talk to me Bells." You hadn't called her that before, she wished you would've. She wished you'd keep doing it.

"I like you." Belly blurted before she could talk herself out of it. You smiled at her.

"I know. I like you too." Belly's eyes scrunched in confusion. "I was just waiting for you to figure it out yourself."

"I hate you." Belly smiled then, her face relaxing as you both laughed.

"That's not what you just said."

"No." Belly thought back to all the summers she'd spent with you that led up to now, you laughing in her room. You liked her, not Conrad. "What was that thing you were saying about actions..." She laughed again as you rolled your eyes in fake annoyance.

"What do you want? My muffin? My drink?" This time Belly rolled her eyes and you'd laughed, but she still took the drink, setting both on the night stand beside her.

"I want you to kiss me."

"Okay." You took her face in your hands and kissed her. Belly hadn't realized before, but she lived for this moment. She could've done this all along, had your lips on hers, your hands in her hair, rings pressing lightly against her cheeks, your perfume drowning her in a scent that made everything but you disappear.

When you pulled away, she found herself wishing you hadn't. She didn't want you to stop, and then it hit her that she'd only ever have you in the summer. You lived hours from her, she couldn't go to you whenever she wanted. She had just finally gotten you, and not even three months later, she'd have to let you go.

"I'll come find you." Your voice broke her thoughts.

"What?"

"When summer's over." Belly thought you'd read her mind, you knew the look she had in her eyes. "I'll be there when you need me." She didn't say anything, she didn't want to think about it. Summer had just started anyway, and now she had you. She kissed you again, ignoring your complaint about the muffins that still hadn't been touched. How could she care about those muffins right now when she'd been waiting long enough to finally kiss you?

#belly conklin x you #belly conklin x reader #belly conklin #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #steven conklin #the summer i turned pretty x you #the summer i turned pretty x reader

[boredzillenial]

Coworkers

You and your new coworker find yourself in an awkward position. (Continuation of “Is That My Shirt?”)

Themes: college AU, Moon boys are in separate bodies, f!reader, ridiculous amounts of awkwardness in the library, momentary NSFW, kissing

Wordcount: 2.1k

That was rough. You’d managed to slip past Marc’s confused stance while Jake was chasing Steven down the hall. For the last week you’d been ignoring Jake’s persistent texts teasing you about Steven along with his repeated Venmo requests for the coffee. You were sure sooner or later they’d corner you in one of the many buildings on campus. For now you hid in the one place neither Jake or Marc would go, the library.

Deep in the bowels of the staff area you sorted through a pile of returned book carts, getting everything together as orderly as you can when the familiar tone of your supervisor cuts the silence.

“Hey hey, figured you could use some help.” Her tone betrays that she is about pawn some sort of responsibility onto rather than help.

You didn’t bother looking up when you reply “Oh, hey Donna.”

“This is Stevie, I need you to show him the ropes. Thankssss.” Her voice fades as you hear her footsteps disappear. This can’t be happening this can’t possibly be-

A familiar soft voice interrupts your internal panic, “Hello, sorry I didn’t realize you work here…” You look up slowly, taking in his oversized sweater and slacks. His curls are a bit disheveled and he’s got some dark circles under his eyes.

“Hi Steven,” you try to tilt your voice up a bit, it wasn’t his fault Jake was giving you such a hard time. Judging by how tired he looks he’s probably getting the same treatment.

His eyebrows furrow a bit, worry flashing across his features as he wrung his hands. “I don’t wanna make your work difficult. If you’d like me to leave I can.” He takes a breath and stuffs his hands in his pockets, looking awkwardly at the stacks of books, “No where else on campus is hiring currently but, I can find something.” He shrugs.

You take a deep breath of your own as you watch him, pity pushing you to a choice that definitely wasn’t in your best interest. “No, don’t do that I - I think we can make this work. We can at least try right? I mean nothing really happened.”

He can’t hide the bit of excitement that flashes across his face at your decision. “Yeah? Thank you. You won’t regret this I promise.” His growing smile pulls a twitch at the corner of your own lips before you can tamp it down. You didn’t exactly like how much you were enjoying his enjoyment.

“Come on, grab a cart we gotta return these to the shelves.” You point to a cart and wheel your way out of the backroom and into the main entryway. “I like to go floor by floor. All of these are first floor. I want you to take your time, pay super close attention to the numbers on the spine so you put them in the right spot.”

He nods, his expression a little too serious as he listens to your instructions. “I won’t let you down.” He sounds as if you’re sending him off on a war mission. You chuckle a little at how concentrated he looks as he starts at the first book on the cart and wheels around to find its proper place. You make your way over to the elevator, off to put away the cart full of books for the second floor.

One Week Passes

Steven’s first week at the library is uneventful. He made a few mistakes here and there but he’s really getting to know his way around the first floor. Full of mostly fiction, children’s books, and DVDs the occasional student rents.

Though Steven had been hard at work at his tasks for this past week you couldn’t help but watch him. I mean you were supposed to keep an eye on him. But your gaze lingered in a way that disquieted you. That cuddle session hadn’t meant anything, it couldn’t. You kept your distance as you watched.

But now Donna has decided he should take on more responsibility, and help you on the higher floors. Full of medical journals, textbooks, and stressed students. Anxiety began to fill your gut.

“That one.” You point at a cart and make your way a little too quickly to the elevator. Trying to steady your erratic heart you take a deep breath. You can hear Steven’s light trot behind you and the squeaky wheels of his own cart as he catches up.

“You alright?” He asks gently as he stands beside you. Close beside you, why was he nearly touching your shoulder with his own Jesus Christ.

“Yeah fine, why.” You force a light tone which, judging by his face he catches immediately. The elevator dings and you both make your way into the cramped space.

“It’s just, you’ve been a bit short today. Didn’t know if anything was wrong or if - if I was doing somethin’ wrong?” He looks at you with a mixture of a plea and cringe at what you might say.

“You’ve been doing fine, great actually.” You say softly as you hit the button for the third floor. The doors close infront of you, the shiny metal reflecting you both. You meet Steven’s gaze in the reflection, you heart thundering so hard you began to wonder if he could hear it, “That’s why Donna wants you to help up here.”

His gaze shifts in the mirrored door, settling on you directly. “Do - do you want me to help up here?” You meet his gaze, brows tilting up at his sincerity.

“I -“ your sentence cuts short when the doors open, you quickly scoot out of the cramped space and disappear into the stacks.

You think you’ve momentarily freed yourself from the awkwardness of the elevator till you hear Steven clear his throat behind you. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable-“ you whip around and he throws his hands up in surrender “I’d just like to know if I should make myself scarce yeah?” He whispers.

You take another steadying breath, “You’re fine Steven, I’m just having a tough day. Let’s knock this floor out, we’ve got more carts waiting downstairs.” You whisper back to him.

He nods once and takes a look at his cart, picking a textbook off and sorting it carefully on the shelf. As you both begin your work in that aisle you hear a soft, rhythmic creaking. Confusion furrows Steven’s brow as you feel like your heart is about to jump out of your throat.

“What’s that?” He whispers and looks toward the direction of the noise.

You sigh and pinch your brow to gather your nerves, “Just, brace yourself.” You both silently shift through the stacks toward the noise. Please don’t be what you think it is for the love of everything please.

You make your way to a small seating area in the very back. When you look across the sets of conjoined carrel desks you don’t see anyone at first. But what you hear struck a nerve in your core. A muffled whimper and the wet, soft, steady sound of skin hitting skin.

An unintelligible look crosses Steven’s face as he blushes. Normally, you’d just drop a heavy textbook to send horny students scattering in different directions. But what you saw shocks you, Steven was creeping toward the sound.

Dumbfounded you follow behind him. Curious as to what the fuck he thought he was gonna do. Steven froze just as he must’ve caught a glimpse and when you round the corner you see exactly why.

There was Jake, rutting into a girl bent over the desk, one hand clasped over her mouth. His other hand gripping her exposed breast, twisting her nipple in tandem with his thrusts.

“Jake!” You gasp, the girl beneath him jolts and looks at you with wide eyes. Jake however, only slows his thrusts momentarily. Keeping her pinned in place as he looks at you.

“Give me five minutes and I won’t give either of you any more shit.” His mixture of a growl and a whisper send lighting through your nerves. It must’ve done the same to her as she whimpers beneath his hand.

You shake your head, grabbing Steven’s arm and dragging him quickly back into the stacks.

“I can’t believe - does that happen a lot?” Steven stammers, that ruddy hue across his cheeks spreads to his ears. His eyes are a bit wide and his breathing shallow.

“From time to time, usually very late at night and never Jake. I didn’t even know he knew there was a library on campus.” You try to joke, to somehow break this awkward heated tension thrust onto both of you. Was Steven as turned on from what you both witnessed as you are? A quick glance down confirms your question.

Steven returns your awkward laugh with his own as he follows you back to your carts. You hoping to whatever god will listen that your underwear will hold all the slickness pooling in them. At one point you could’ve sworn you saw Steven turn away from you to adjust himself, his bulge a little less noticeable once he turned back.

You both work in silence for the rest of your shift, but there’s something different in the air surrounding you two. Steven keeps brushing against you. Whether it be back to back as he moves past you, or the back of his hand grazing yours as he stands beside you. You shake your head to try to clear it. He was probably just distracted from earlier.

You catch his eye for a moment, a flush returns across his cheeks as he quickly looks away. “You alright?” You ask softly.

“Yeah, it’s not the first time I’ve walked in on Jake with a girl.” He tries to shrug but the movement comes off awkward. “It’s just -“ he starts to say but quickly stops himself.

“Hey, we don’t have to talk about it.” You put a gentle hand on his arm, squeezing the soft fabric of his sweater and feeling his toned muscles beneath.

“It’s embarrassing really but, Jake won’t come off it. I kinda feel like he’s doin’ it on purpose sometimes. Like some sort of weird motivation to get me to-“ he stops himself again, the blush spreading to his ears again “get me to lose my…”

“Oh, you’re a…” you aren’t quite sure how to finish that sentence. Virginity was nothing to be embarrassed about but with Jake’s behavior you’re sure Steven must get an earful.

“Yeah, I just haven’t found the right person yet. Most people are such knobs I just-“ his voice trails off as he rubs the back of his neck. His mixed look of frustration and hesitancy stirs something in you. “I’m not looking for some big romantic thing at this point. I wanna get it over with, just to say I’ve done it.” He rubs his hands across his face.

“I could -“ the words jump out before you can stop yourself.

Embarrassment roils in your stomach, did you seriously just offer to-

“You’d do that f’me?” He says softly, his eyes matching his tone with an edge of something else. Something a bit hungrier. “I don’t wanna make things awkward for you, with Marc and Jake I mean.”

“Oh I think Jake and I are pretty even now. In fact.” You pull out your phone. Deny his latest insistent Venmo request and make one of your own:

$20 : you know why.

You look up to Steven just inches infront of you. His deep brown gaze locked on your lips, his breathing uneven. “Can I?”

“Ye-“ before you even finish his lips are crashing into yours, his hands gripping your face in an almost too firm grip. The sheer intensity, the hunger of his kiss draws a moan from you.

You feel him shiver, returning your moan with one of his own as he pushes you against the bookshelf behind you. The force of it knocking a few textbooks loose and landing with loud thuds. You jolt for a moment, “Steven hang on-“

“I can’t,” he kisses you again, snaking a hand behind your head to hold you against his lips. You feel his tongue glide against your lips, causing you to groan. Gods you can’t believe what’s happening right now as you put your hands firmly on his chest and break the kiss.

“You have to.” You whisper firmly. His pupils are blown wide and his chest is heaving as he just manages a nod.

“Oh-okay.” He brushes loose curls out of his face as he takes a shaky breath. “When can we, y’know.”

You catch your own breath as you contemplate for a moment, “I’ll text my roomie to sleep somewhere else tonight. She owes me a favor.”

————

MoonKnight Bingo Masterlist

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[stevieschrodinger]

Link to Part One Part Two Part Three

TW Human trafficking discussions of injury

Steve feels like shit. He looks like shit. He’s pretty sure something might have straight up died in his mouth when he got that forty five minutes of sleep.

Everything looks good though. The fact that everyone else sprawled around the boardroom also looks like shit makes him feel a little better about himself. Well. Everyone but Nancy, obviously, who could probably walk out of a tornado and still look put together.

Steve only knows it’s morning because Carol just brought them all coffee. Carol does not come in out of hours. Steve learned that very, very early on. It was uncharacteristically nice of Carol to turn up with the little trolley from downstairs; it had a bunch of fruit and breakfast pastries on it, plus coffee.

She then proceeded to explain to Steve at great length how he looked and smelled like he’d been shit out by a bear, so, maybe she had motive. And that motive was being a bitch.

“Happy now, Steve?”

Steve’s got like, a whole bag of sand in each eye. Coarse, if they grade that kind of thing. Coarse sand. “Do you think we got everything?”

“I am confident that the team have done their utmost to pursue every avenue.”

“Nance, stop being a politician. That’s not a yes.”

She purses her lips at him in the way that she has, “can I have a word with you?” She scans the board room, “privately?”

Steve drags himself out of the chair, balancing one croissant on top of his coffee cup and grabbing a bear claw too, and then follows Nancy out and into a nearby office.

She doesn’t pull any punches, “I need to know how you know.”

Steve takes a big bite, then speaks with his mouthful, “can’t. NDA.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, “and who, exactly, did you sign an NDA for?”

“The FBI.”

Nancy brings up her phone, showing Steve the screen. More precisely the headline on the screen, and Steve is thrilled that the picture they’ve used of Hagan is, objectively, fucking awful, “so Tommy Hagan was arrested last night, for Omega trafficking. When you walked into the office yesterday, oh so confident that everything relating to Hagan was going to tank…it was nearly ten full hours before this hit the news.”

Steve shrugs again, “N...D...A.”

They stare at each other for a long moment.

The door opens, Henderson’s baby face poking through. You would not in a million years think they guy was in his twenties, “Steve, morning! Sorry, I know it’s early…” Henderson seems to take in the state of Steve. Shirt rumpled, tie hanging loose, starting in on his second pastry, “but I kind of need to know why over a quarter of a million dollars was moved on Saturday, and where it went since it seemed to just...disappear?”

It takes, probably, less than a second for Nancy to leap to a conclusion like an Olympic fucking vaulter, and half a second longer for her to hit Steve with the file she’s holding.

“Er...not now, Dustin okay?” Steve manages to say, trying to shield his pastry and his coffee while Nancy gets it out of her system.

Dustin’s a smart kid, he watches Nancy slapping Steve with the papers...and just leaves.

She finally stops, pinching the bridge of her nose, and says very evenly, very quietly, “Steven Harrington, look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t buy an Omega.”

“NDA?” Steve replies quietly, uncertain, and then flinching when Nancy raises the folder again, “okay okay! Yes, yes I did. But! Under the FBI’s kind of...you know, instruction? I was evidence gathering! He’s at mine but I’m figuring out where his family are and I’ll take him back! It’s fine!”

“Why is he at yours?”

“They didn’t have anywhere for him, short notice, plus his feet are kind of messed up, from them like, hurting him. He’s been there a couple of years so doesn’t have anything, so I’ve ordered him some clothes and stuff. He’s fine.”

Nancy tilts her head, like a predator working out the distance they need to strike, “he’s...fine?”

Steve knows he’s fucked up. Nancy is using that tone. It’s...a very specific tone. “Err...yes?”

“You have an injured Omega, who has been held against his will, abused enough to be, at the very least, physically injured, never mind the emotional toll this whole thing may have taken...and he’s fine?”

Oh, no. She’s raised her eyebrow in that way she has. “I mean...yeah?” Nancy glares, and Steve backtracks, “I mean. Obviously he’s not...you know, perfectly okay, I guess. He’s been through a lot. But I made sure I fed him plenty, and he’s got some clean clothes on the bed. The bed in the room...I never actually...got around to showing him to...because I got, distracted. And it’s upstairs…” Steve can feel his insides sinking, “his feet are hurt. Shit.” Well fuck. Steve's...fucked up, probably quite badly now that he actually stops for thirty seconds to think about it.

Nancy sighs aggressively out her nose in that way she has, “Steve your security system is like fort fucking Knox, did you at least…”

But Steve’s already shaking his head, because he didn’t do that, either. He’s just...locked Eddie into a new prison. Shit.

He scrambles, feeling guilty, “I’ll give him some of the money. A lot of the money. Hagan’s...stuff. He can have the ranch?”

Nancy’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline, “why on earth would he want the place he’s been kept prisoner for-”

Steve shrugs, “whatever he wants. He can bun it down if he likes, I’ll help. It’ll be like, therapy?”

Oh no, she gone from pinching her nose to rubbing that spot on her forehead, but then she seems to...deflate. Grasping Steve’s arm to hold him close, she actually speaks gently to him, which is, quite frankly, a million times more terrifying, “Steve. We’ve known each other a long time, now, so I say this with love. Money, wealth...is not the most important thing in life.” Steve opens his mouth to protest, but she shushes him, “I know. Alright, I know it can help, and it makes life a lot better for a lot of people...but giving people things does not...fix anything. Money is not an apology. Gifts are not an apology. And I know it’s hard for you to...see it differently, okay? Because you’ve always been very...driven, and that’s a good thing! I know how you grew up and how your father was with you and I know you feel you have...something to prove, okay, so I understand, I do. But...a lot of people put higher value on...just. I mean, maybe just go home. Say that you're sorry. Look after the Omega for a couple of days, make sure he gets home, okay? Maybe prioritize that, for a moment. You know the office will be fine...and maybe you’ll see that other things in life can have value, hmm?”

Part five

@stylelovechild @steddieonthen @marklee-blackmore @sticknpokelightningbolt @resident-gay-bitch @somegirlsomewhere @mugloversonly @weekend-dreamer7 @lololol-1234 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mx-jinxous @goodolefashionedloverboi @bogwitchlesbian @lunaraquaenby @steddieinthesun @pluto-pepsi @disrespectedgoatman @i-eat-spinal-cords @waelkyring @kal-ology

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