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luveline · 2 years

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𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary jealousy makes people do crazy things. when steve finds out you’re going on a date with eddie munson, he devises a plan involving one pair of binoculars, one robin, four adopted children and an important question. [7k]

warnings gn!reader, ditzy reader, protective steve, childhood friends to lovers, pining steve, mutual pining, fluff, love confessions, slight hurt/comfort, soft steve, steves pov, eddie fucking munson ♡ tw for toaster bathtub joke

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Steve knows you're outside not because you told him you'd be visiting him at work today, but because you're talking to yourself. You quieten as you pull open the door, a smile on your face that hasn't changed since he first met you in the third grade. Some kid had pushed you down and when he'd asked if you were okay you'd smiled just like that, like you hadn't been pushed at all.

"What are you talking about?" he asks lightly.

You stop in the middle of the store and blink. "What?"

He skirts around the front desk and wraps you up in a hug. You're still at first like you usually are, though you slowly relax under his touch and hug back.

"What were you saying? Before you came in?" he asks, rubbing your back with both arms.

"Um… I don't really remember."

Steve holds you at arm's length to assess your face. You're lying to him. He can tell from the way your top lip twitches towards your nose, almost pouting.

You drop your arms from his waist and take a step back. Steve has years of knowledge on your whims and whiles and is reluctant to let you move away from him just yet, his hand clasped loosely around your wrist.

You smile and your hands float at your sides like lily pads bobbing in the air. He decides not to pry, returning to his station behind the Family Video desk. You hop up onto the counter and watch him from over your shoulder.

"Where's Robin?" you ask.

"I'm starting to think you like her more than me."

You smile at him softly and he doesn't know what it means. It's alarming. Robin appears from the backroom before he can work himself up over it, a crate of tapes in her arms.

She groans as she puts them down on the counter. "I miss Scoops Ahoy."

"Cute uniforms," you mumble.

"It's not the uniforms I miss," Robin says, letting her forehead fall to the counter. "My arms hurt. I'm not cut out for manual labour. If Steve were a better man he'd do all the heavy lifting for me."

"Where's the equality in that?" Steve asks, looking to you to see if he's made you laugh.

He has. Your lips quirk up into a startled smile as a rush of breath escapes you, a lilting miracle of sound.

He realises then that he's doing something he's not allowed to do and decides to be a better man. "I'll do the rest, Robs."

Robin looks up, surprised at his charity. "You will?" she asks, not trusting his genuineness.

"Sure. Keep Y/N entertained while I'm gone."

Once he's securely in the backroom he starts to freak out. He's been harbouring a mess of feelings for you ever since he hit puberty but has discarded them time and time again. Your friendship is longstanding and special to him, even when closeness with you has been hard to obtain. Not because you're purposefully distant, but because you're a total dreamer.

Head in the clouds your entire life, Steve has wrangled through hoops to try and protect you from bullies, from bad friends, from your own distraction; you forget to eat, you're lucky you graduated because your attention span for anything that doesn't interest you is non-existent, and you hate parties so your circle is a closed loop consisting of just Steve.

Now you've both graduated there's a lot of time to be spent together.

Steve is suffering through it. His life feels like a constant game of look but don't touch.

That might be unfair. He's definitely very touchy.

You're giggling to yourself as he carries the second box of tapes in and heaves it down by the first. Robin's laughter is much more evil.

"What's funny?" he asks suspiciously.

"I'm giving Y/N tips."

"Tips?" he asks, so used to Robin's absurdity that he starts to unpack his second box, elbows brushing Robin's as she hums.

"Mm-hm." She taps her nails over a plastic case and leans towards him. "Boy tips."

"And what would you know about boys?" he asks her.

"I'm not stupid. Boys are like… frogs."

"Frogs," Steve repeats dryly.

"Slimey. Predictable. Easily disected."

"Green," you say seriously.

Steve chokes on a laugh and drops the tape in his hand back into the box of new arrivals to cover his mouth with a fist.

"Babe, what?" he asks.

You look at him and shake your head lightly. He knows he's not gonna get any answers from you, trying for nonchalance as he asks, "Boy tips? For who?"

"They have a date."

"You do?" Steve asks you. He almost snaps his neck. Robin coughs to cover a laugh.

A knife in his chest. Twisting. Steve's definitely been stabbed. He looks down to his sternum and doesn't find a wound.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks, pretending that's why his lungs have exploded. He's gonna suffocate to death any second now.

"I didn't think you'd have any boy tips," you say, clearly surprised at his surprise.

Whatever. Steve takes a huge breath in through his nose and becomes your friend again, rather than a jealous idiot.

"Y/N," he says, "I don't know if you've noticed, but I am a boy."

"I've noticed."

"So I know what boys like."

"No, you know what you like," Robin says. "You don't know what Eddie Munson likes. You're different genres."

"You're going on a date with Eddie Munson?" he asks you, almost shouting. Not his smoothest moment.

"Friday," you say, in the sometimes infuriating way that you do, like you have no indication that he's shocked. And he's shocked.

"When did he ask you out?" Steve asks.

Robin smirks behind her hand. Steve would love it if she had, like, a miniscule amount of compassion. An atom's worth, for his struggle.

"I asked him," you say.

Steve needs to flee. He can't because he would look insanely obvious so he cracks on his customer service smile and tries to stop asking questions.

He fails. "You like Eddie Munson?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm going on a date."

An insane wave of jealousy sloshes around inside him. Or maybe the slurpee he'd had a half hour ago. Whatever it is, he's nauseous.

He's also confused (a common theme when it comes to you.) He'd had no clue you were dating, or looking to date, no clue this was a lane that was open. And you're so pretty, so magnetic, so disgustingly special and this Munson kid is gonna snap you right up if he has any sense at all.

Steve isn't proud of anything that he does next.

"I heard he's a drug dealer," he says.

Your eyes are wide. Not in horror, as he'd hoped, but puzzlement. "Is he?"

"For sure. The devil's lettuce, Mary Jane, marijuana, everything."

"I thought they were all the same," you say, perplexed, your voice like an ebbing wave.

They are all the same. He was hoping you didn't know that. "Right. What if he gets you hooked on something?"

Robin frowns at him. "Since when are you so judgemental? We've been high together. Like, fifty times."

He steps on her foot. Robin, unused to him fighting back so quickly, gasps in outrage and steps on his foot right back. What ensues is an undignified battle of shoes that has him throwing his arm out and hitting her in the stomach.

"What's your problem?" she asks, eyebrows pinched.

He holds his hands up in surrender. "Sorry! I think you broke my foot."

He flinches when he remembers you're there and watching, only you're not there and you're definitely not watching, having made your way to the two boxes of new movies on the counter. You're sorting through them slowly and singing something to yourself under your breath so quietly he can barely decipher the words. The loudest part is your inhales, familiar, small intakes of air.

"I told them boys like it when you slip them the tongue," Robin whispers smugly.

Steve steps on her foot again and gets promptly slapped in the arm, hard enough to ache.

Later, when Robin's left and the store's finally closing and you're waiting at the door for Steve to drive you home, he tries to slander Eddie again. He almost feels bad.

"You know he's still in high school, right? Isn't that a little young for you?" he asks.

He flicks up the collar of his jacket and switches off the neon lights. You hold the door open, leaning against it with your back arched, like a doll that's fallen down. He pokes the naked skin you've accidentally exposed, a taunting sliver of hip, as he walks past you.

"He's twenty."

Again, Steve knew that. He was just hoping you didn't.

"The whole still being in high-school thing doesn't bug you?" he asks as he locks the door.

You shift from foot to foot beside him, cold now that the sun has disappeared for the night. You shove your hands deep into your pockets and kick the floor.

"I don't know," you say.

He feels bad for trying to dissuade you when you sound like that, insecure.

Despite his selfish wants, he says, "No, I mean. It's totally fine. You're the same age."

"Right," you agree quickly.

"Right," he echoes.

The two of you climb into the BMW and the silence feels unnatural. Conversation between the two of you has always been easy. Now it's stilted.

He sighs, scrubbing a hand through his hair furiously and starting the car.

"You know… I've heard he's really nice," he says.

You perk up. "Yeah?"

"He's in a band, too. A rock band. You like that stuff. You'd be good together," he says, unconvincing even to himself.

Each word could be demonstrated as a plier held to his teeth, slowly pulling. It's agony to stick up for his competitor. No, he corrects himself, not a competitor, because you don't like him. Steve's alone in his pining.

"I don't know about all that," you whisper.

"You don't have to be nervous, okay? I'm sure he's a nice guy and that you'll have fun."

You don't seem very cheered up.

He unclenches his jaw and sneaks a look at you. You're picking the hemming of your long sleeve with a thoughtful look in place. Steve thinks, Fuck, they must really like him.

"Seriously, babe."

You drop your head against your shoulder. "Can I sleep at your place?"

He should say no. "Yeah, of course you can."

"I think there's a racoon living in my attic."

"I'll come take a look tomorrow."

"Thank you."

You tumble out of the car and up the gravel to Steve's house, unlocking the door with a practised ease before running up the stairs. Steve follows with little urgency behind you.

"Babe?" he asks, closing the door behind him.

"I need the bathroom," you call.

Steve nods and beelines for the kitchen, looking for something to make that you'll enjoy and that won't take a year off of your life expectancies. If Steve were by himself he'd skip dinner or order something greasy, but he thinks you should have a proper meal.

He's got a can of soup warming over the burner when you come back down, having switched your outfit for something comfy, clothes you keep in the bottom of his wardrobe for such occasions.

"Pee your pants?" he asks, grinning.

You hit your hip into his on purpose and hoist yourself onto the counter to watch him stir.

"Watch it! Can't you see I'm performing a culinary miracle?"

"It smells nice." Your face floods with happiness.

"It's your favourite one."

"They don't sell my favourite in Bradley's anymore."

"It was at the back of the cabinet. Might get food poisoning," he says.

He's lying through his teeth – he'd gone up to some fancy Indianapolis grocery store and bought a fuck load. He prays that your attention stays on him and not the cabinet behind your head where evidence of his affection hides in wait.

"Yum," you say.

"There's ciabatta in the bread bin. Do you want, like, the works?"

"Balsamic vinegar," you nod your head sagely. "Yes."

He feels a tendril of fondness curl around his heart.

Fed and watered you crawl into Steve's bed like you always do, smack dab in the middle, sheets pulled up to your nose. Your moaning nonsense to yourself about being greedy and evil demons that cause bloating.

"I told you to slow down," he murmurs as he climbs in beside you, the two of you smelling like spearmint toothpaste.

Your hands smell like soap as you bat at him uselessly. "Shut up, Steve."

He moves onto his back and sighs. "You have such an attitude problem."

"I do not."

He throws his hand out fast and squeezes your sensitive waist. You gasp and pull away, giggling as his hand chases you. He digs his fingers into your ribs until you're panting for air, your legs kicking him away from you.

"Stop, Steve. Steve, Steve, Stevie, please stop." Your words are garbled with laughter.

"I can't hear you."

"Stop!" you cry out. "Please."

He pulls his hand away and feels smug at how little effort it took to get you that badly. "I didn't know you could shout that loudly, babe."

"Only for you," you say, catching your breath.

Steve feels his cheeks go red. Physically feels the blood blossom under his skin. He clears his throat and turns away from you, flicking off the light fast so you can't see his embarrassment clear as day.

You calm your breathing and Steve calms his heart. After a few minutes there's a dead silence. Not even the sound of a passing car.

"It's so quiet," you say.

"It was."

Your hand at his back. He suppresses chills as your knuckles move over the dip of his spine and then over, your palm smoothing down his arm until you find his hand. Another one of your quirks when you're tired and dizzy with content, you search for his fingers and twine them with your own as you talk.

"Thanks for dinner. You're a better cook than you'd think, Steve. S'like being at Enzo's but with none of the tables and chairs. Or the music."

He rubs his thumb gently over the back of your hand where it rests on his thighs and chuckles. "I'll give the chef your compliments."

"Thank you."

Another stretch of silence, broken up only by the sound of your breathing. Steve's more familiar with your breathing than his own. He thinks of nights where he'd feigned sleep and watched the rise and fall of your chest through barely parted lashes.

With his back to you it's easy to pretend you're more than friends. He pulls your joined hands to his chest and worries your skin with the pad of his thumb, a thousand thoughts rattling around his brain.

"Y/N," Steve says suddenly, unsure if you're still awake.

"What?" you ask quietly.

"Don't listen to Robin, okay? Don't… don't try and tongue kiss Munson the first time."

You inhale weirdly. "I won't."

"Good." He moves your hand back to your chest and drops it gently. "Goodnight," he says.

You don't say anything back.

Dustin sits under the Family Video desk with his radio contraption that Steve doesn't understand, him and Robin having entered a surprisingly easy conversation. Less surprising upon discovering the topic: Steve's ineptitude, Steve's idiocy, Steve's hopelessness.

"I feel sorry for him," Dustin says conversationally.

"Really sorry for him."

"Because it's his third snub in as many years-"

"And that's not counting each Scoops Ahoy disaster-"

"Exactly. And, it's like, going on how many years of being friends?" Dustin asks.

"Twelve," Steve says, resigned to his fate and feeling very pathetic where he manually ticks through returns on the computer. He doesn't even look up.

"Twelve years to make a move and now he's too late," Dustin says.

"Well, never say never," Robin says, her voice high.

Steve frowns and looks through the screen for a moment before turning his gaze over his shoulder to where Robin lounges on the floor, legs crossed and a book between her thighs.

"What?" he asks.

"What?" she repeats.

They stare at each other. Steve's expression changes from depressed to incensed.

"Oh my god, you know something."

"I don't know anything."

They stare at each other more. Steve doesn't believe her even slightly. He knows Robin. They've been friends for an entire year by this point. Steve would even say that they're best friends. He knows when she's lying.

"'Never say never?'" he quotes.

Dustin has stopped messing with his technology to watch. His head moves one way and then the other like he's following a tennis ball, his brown curls bouncing around his ears.

"It's a common saying-" Robin defends.

"But why did you say it?"

Tense silence.

"You do know something," Dustin says. Excitement gives his face a boyish charm.

Robin closes the book between her thighs and smiles awkwardly. Steve feels his heart leap into his throat when she tilts her head to the side guiltily and sighs.

"Shit," she mutters.

Operation Stakeout is redundant, according to Mike.

"An operation and a stakeout are basically the same thing," he mutters.

"That's not true," Dustin says, know-it-all tone in play. "A stakeout is always an operation but operations aren't always stakeouts."

Lucas eats a handful of chips noisily. Max groans.

"It feels redundant," Robin says.

"It's about to feel jeopardised," Steve says scathingly, forcing her head back down where the six of them hide behind a trimmed hedge outside Enzo's.

"When's it my turn with the binoculars?" Robin asks.

"Never," Dustin says. There isn't a trace of sympathy in his voice.

"Sexism?" she wonders to herself.

Max snatches the binoculars from Dustin’s hand and brings them to her eyes, looking through the painted window of Hawkins best Italian restaurant for any sign of you and your date.

They must look like a group of idiots. Half the gang are in dark clothing where Mike, Robin and Max had all refused to bother. Dustin had brought a camouflage net and strewn it over their heads, though most of them had shrugged it off, holding it to their shoulders like a terrible blanket.

Steve waits impatiently for Max's report.

"There they are," Max says.

He can't himself as he springs up and searches for you. They'd all watched secretly as you'd arrived and met Munson outside. He scrubbed up well. It boiled Steve's blood. In a totally fun, carefree way because he's being very normal about this whole thing. You know, if you ignore Operation Stakeout.

"Where?"

He holds his hand out for the binoculars and Max drops them heavily into his palm. Steve almost blinds himself as he brings them to his eyes, squinting for a glance at you.

"Toward the left."

"They're ordering," he says.

"They're on a date," Mike says.

Lucas makes a sad sound and eats more chips. Steve feels a sharp wave of pity for him though he quickly forgets it in favour of the look on your face. You're smiling wide but insincerely.

"Y/N is not having a good time," he says happily. "Is it evil to feel relieved?"

"Yes," a few voices say.

Dustin shrugs. "Let's hope Eddie makes them cry. Or the other way around."

"Dude." There's a silent conversation that Steve isn't privy to then that ends with Lucas and Dustin shoving each other.

"Why are we expecting this to end badly?" Max asks. "Because I'm still not convinced."

Steve watches you reach for your drink and tries not to recant his explanation with any bias. Tries. "Y/N doesn't like Munson."

"We already knew that, to be fair," Robin says, still trying to defend you now that she'd possibly exposed your secret. Guilt is a new look on her.

"Right, but not liking Eddie and liking Steve are two different things," Max says.

"Well, why wouldn't you like Eddie?" Dustin says.

"If you like him so much why don't you marry him?" Steve asks, deadpan.

"Shut up."

"I know who I'd choose," Max says.

Steve waits for a follow up because he has no clue who Max would choose. When she doesn't answer he peels his gaze from your upturned mouth and finds that the rest of the group are giving Max the same curious look.

"What?" she asks furiously. "One is clearly more attractive."

"Which one, Maxine?" Steve asks.

"Eddie," Mike and Dustin say.

"Steve," Robin and Lucas say.

Max is saved from having to answer by the ensuing argument. They can both drive. Steve is wealthy - "Generationally!" - where Eddie's less so. Steve graduated - "Barely!" - and Eddie's in his third senior year.

"He's in a band," Robin says unhappily, like she's sad that Steve isn't measuring up.

"Have you heard them play? Steve's definitely winning," Lucas says.

"Steve doesn't know who Gollum is," Dustin points out. "He's, like, socially misplaced."

"Does Y/N?" Max asks.

The group ponders. Robin takes the binoculars from Steve's hands and aims them at you again. "Wait, did Eddie get the carbonara? That's a point for Steve."

"It's an Italian staple!" Dustin defends.

"You'd think a cult leader would order something a little more adventurous."

"Hellfire isn't a cult, Steve, don't be fucking offensive."

"Okay, watch your mouth, Henderson," Steve says testily.

His knees ache from hiding and his hands are frigid. It's dark enough for Lucas to switch on a torch as he offers Max his pringles. She wrinkles her nose in disgust and the poor guy looks dejected beyond words.

A disgruntled old lady complains behind them at having to walk around them. Mike complains louder. "This is pointless."

"It's not pointless," Steve says.

"Yes, it is."

"No, it isn't." He glares at Mike.

"It totally is! You're wasting our night to perv on someone who couldn't be less interested in you."

"I didn't ask you to come!" Steve shouts.

"I wanted to see you be wrong in person," he says.

Steve sighs because maybe he is wrong. He doesn't know what he believes anymore. He's working on the tiniest evidence that you like him, a slip of the tongue.

When you'd walked into Family Video a few days ago and asked Robin for 'boy tips', you'd said something suspicious. Steve doesn't think you know what you said. Robin thinks you're both idiots, though she thinks you're pathetic in the loveable way and Steve the pathetic way.

"Why Eddie?" Robin had asked you while he was hidden away in the backroom. "I didn't know you liked the rock and roll type. I was thinking, like, Steve's calibre. Homegrown boy next door who's a little misguided."

"Well, Steve's never gonna ask me out," you'd said.

"Thank god for that," Robin had joked awkwardly. Steve doesn't hold it against her.

When she'd relayed the conversation to him he'd been happy at first, because in most situations this would imply that you're waiting for it. That you want him to ask you out.

But you're not like most people, and you might've meant Steve in place of someone like Steve.

"I don't think he's wrong," Dustin says now.

"You're the same IQ," Mike says.

"You might be right, Wheeler," Steve huffs, holding his hands out for a turn. Robin passes them obligingly. "Y/N's so literal. They might've just been stating the obvious."

"Or maybe they thought Robin was implying they liked Steve and got defensive," Max adds.

"Or maybe it's exactly like it sounds and they have a crush on Steve," Lucas says. He wilts under Max's fierce scowl. "Or maybe they were being defensive."

"Defensive isn't really their style," Steve says, not sure what side he's on, sick with hope.

"What is their style?" Mike asks. "Delusion?"

"Shut the fuck up, man," Steve says.

"You're such an asshole sometimes," Max says.

They dissolve into bickering and Steve spies on you, watching through the binoculars with one eye pinched closed as you set down your cutlery. You're laughing.

Steve pulls the binoculars from his face and feels maybe every stage of grief as he hands them off to Dustin. "Mike's right, we're wasting the night here. If Y/N liked me, we wouldn't be camped outside Enzo's right now under the world's most threadbare throw blanket."

Mike clears his throat, and Steve knows he must have sounded pathetic when he, at odds with the cold indifference he usually sports, says, "I mean… People are complicated. El broke up with me last summer because my grandma died."

"That is not why," Max says. She sounds like she wants to be mad but can't manage it. She sounds about as happy as she has all year, so Steve decides maybe the night isn't totally wasted.

"Your grandma died?" Lucas asks.

"No."

"He just grabbed Y/N's hand," Dustin announces, one eye pressed to the binoculars.

His head is smushed against Lucas', who peers into the binoculars with his opposite eye and hums thoughtfully. "More of a caress than a grab."

Steve snatches the binoculars. "Give me that," he demands.

"You still haven't explained the spying," Max says.

Steve finds you in the restaurant. Your hand is extended across the table. You're twisting the rings around Eddie's fingers, saying something he doesn't have the talent to lip read.

"I thought that," he starts, morose, heart stomped on with every second you spend fawning over Munson's rock star hands, "if Y/N likes me, the date would be a total failure."

"Right, like halfway through the date Y/N was gonna have this amazing epiphany and come crashing through the doors, like a rom-com," Robin continues.

"That's stupid," Mike says.

Steve agrees with him. It's stupid to expect you to throw away a good chance at happiness and keep a candle burning for him instead when he's never showed any interest in you before. But, in his defense, he didn't know he was allowed.

"Whatever," he sighs. "I'm sick of thinking about it. Let's just go home."

There's an awkward silence then where everyone feels sorry for him and nobody knows what to say.

"Plenty of fi-" Lucas starts, voice lilted up in question until he's socked hard in the arm. He clears his throat. "Plenty of time left. On the clock. We can go get food?"

"Steve needs ice cream," Robin says cheerily. He scrubs his face until his eyes hurt as she continues. "He needs to eat through the heartbreak. Ice cream, pizza, moon cakes, cheese balls." She turns to him fully. "I'm really sorry your love life is so sad, but look on the bright side! You now have an excuse to watch Splash on repeat."

"Oh, goodie," he says.

He gets a round of sympathetic shoulder pats and then everyone starts to pack Dustin's spy equipment and the snacks away. There's a pounding headache between Steve's eyes and his back pops in three places as he stands. He's getting too old for shit like this. I need to go home and sleep for twelve hours, he decides. And have a self flagellating bubble bath. With a toaster.

"Shit, they're coming out."

They dive back behind the bush. Steve locks eyes with Robin. She holds her hand over her mouth as the door to Enzo's creaks open.

"What size are you?" Eddie's asking.

"I don't know. Do I have to wear the shirt?"

A handsome laugh. "No, you don't have to. It's just for club morale. Plus, it's pretty sick."

"It's not sick, it's cute."

"No, no." He's being so nice it makes Steve feel terrible for wishing bad things upon him. "Not bad sick. Good sick, like awesome."

"Right," you laugh.

Robin starts to lift her head. Steve shakes his vehemently, begging her not to. She does anyways, her eyes shifting up over the green hedge line. He tugs her shoulder urgently.

Robin starts to push against his face with her hands. It's increasingly difficult to fight her silently, especially when she smacks him straight in the soft part of his nose.

He winces and covers his face with both hands. God, are you there? He thinks urgently. It's me, Steve.

Robin gasps.

Five sets of eyes whip to her and Steve yanks her hard to the ground, covering her mouth with his hand. She licks his palm and Steve throws himself back, sprawled on the ground with his elbows stinging, his heart hammering because there's no way you didn't hear all that. He waits to be caught.

"I'll get it printed for you. Everyone has one. Like a uniform."

"Thanks for dinner," you say.

"You're welcome. I'll see you on Friday, yeah?"

"Yes. Thank you, Eddie."

Your voices stop. Steve lets himself collapse onto the sidewalk beneath, hair crushed under his neck. Your date must've gone pretty fucking well if you're going on another.

Robin's face above him. Her hair hangs down, blocking slices of her face from view.

"Don't sulk, Steve."

He glares at her. "You heard that, right? They're going on another date. Leave me here to die."

Robin's beaming. "Steve."

"It's too late. I should've- I don't know why I thought this was a good idea. I'm a loser."

"Could you stop feeling sorry for yourself for a second?" she asks.

"What's the point?"

"Steve," Robin laughs. "They didn't kiss." He swallows around the dryness in his mouth. "They didn't kiss," she repeats. "Eddie tried it, but…"

"Total head turn," Dustin says, the top of his head touching Robin's as he comes to stand over Steve, his shoes at Steve's shoulder.

"Doesn't mean anything. They're still going on another date," Steve says.

"Dummy," Max says, joining the two hovering above him.

Mike and Lucas join soon after. "You're definitely a loser-" Mike says.

"Dude."

"If you don't try," Mike finishes.

Steve looks up into the circle of their faces. They look super weird from this angle. Too happy. It's never a good thing when they're all smiling the way that they are. Hope in this family turns into stupid decisions.

"The head turn was on purpose?" he asks.

He's crushed by their hesitation.

"Well, it's Y/N," Robin sighs. She rolls her eyes at his expression. "Nah, I'm messing with you. It was definitely on purpose."

He covers his face with his hands and stares at his friend's through parted fingers. "Shit."

A ruckus of laughter and smiles as Robin offers a hand to pull him up off of the ground. "Alright, come on, dingus, we have work to do."

"Work?" he asks.

"T-minus six days and… twenty two hours until their second date," Dustin says, checking his watch. "Six days to make a move, Harrington. Can you do it?"

It only takes him three.

Saturday and Sunday are spent feeling sorry for himself and sick with worry that he can't make a move or that his move won't be reciprocated.

But then he sees you on Monday and can't really stand it anymore. You'd turned your head. You hadn't let Eddie kiss you.

Steve needs to know if you'll let him.

You're all in blue today with your eyebrows pinched up, looking sad. He knows from experience that you aren't sad at all, only thinking, sitting on the hood of his car with your legs pulled up. You're demure. You're probably an angel.

"How long have you been out here?" he asks, coming to a stop in front of you.

"I'm too afraid to come see you," you say. It's more honest than Steve had been expecting. Certainly more straightforward than you tend to be.

"You're seeing me now."

You look up into his face. The sun behind you, your face in shadow and your hair kissed by golden light, you open your hands over your thighs. Steve thinks of Lovers Lake, the Victoria flowers bobbing on the surface. Green, soft cups over dark water.

"I'm seeing you," you say.

You twist your fingers together and the lily pad turns to a water lily, your fingertips a tight bud.

You're nervous.

Steve crosses his arms over his chest and leans back slightly to take you in.

He lifts his chin at you. "How did your date go?" he asks.

"It was okay. Eddie's a nice guy. He's… interesting."

"Yeah?"

You hum. "Why are you asking me?"

"We're friends. I want to know if you had fun."

You shrug your shoulders and turn your haze to the hood of the BMW, scratching your nail over an imperfection he can't see.

Steve's unnerved to see you so still. He waits for your legs to kick or for your hands to fidget, to wear holes into the hem of your shirt.

"I don't think we're friends, Stevie," you say finally.

He actually feels mad. It shocks him, but he does, and he won't shy away from it. "Why did you ask Munson on a date?"

"He can drive. He's nice to girls. He's good looking." You stop scratching but don't look at him. Your ankle swings towards his car, stops before it hits the front bumper.

Your answers hurt his feelings, little pinpricks of annoyance? Jealousy? He doesn't know what he feels. He was hoping you'd say something reassuring.

He kicks himself quickly. You're not going to reassure him because you don't know he needs to be reassured. You don't know anything because he hasn't told you.

You mumble something too low for him to hear.

"What?" he asks gently. "I can't hear you."

"I asked him because I thought if-" You stop. Steve watches your hesitation turn to distress and steps forward to take your wringing hands into his.

"Don't do that," he says quietly.

You stop rubbing your wrists. "I'm trying to tell you."

"I know you are. Don't wind yourself up over it. Tell me slowly." He doesn't like this expression you're wearing. So unlike you. He wants to see your quiet face again, your features settled, your eyes bright. He bends at the waist to talk to you. "What did you think?"

"I thought if anybody in the world could make you jealous, it would be Eddie."

He works your clenched fingers open, rubbing his thumbs over the small creases in your skin. His heart thrums in his chest.

He smiles at you. "Now why do you wanna make me jealous?" he asks fondly, a hint of smugness creeping in.

You raise your eyes to his and squeeze his hands. "Steve," you say pleadingly. "Don't be cruel."

"About what?" he asks, his eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

"I know that I'm- I'm stupid, and distracted and-and I miss things, and-"

"Hey. That's not true."

You overflow.

"No, it is, it's true." You pull your hands out of his grip and cross them over your torso. Your eyes squint in efforts to stop the tears he can see gathering from spilling over, and your mouth twists up into a bitter smile. "Everyone says so. I- I don't know why I thought you would like me back."

"You like me?" he asks weakly.

You stop. "I thought you knew."

Steve's eyes flit in disbelief from your eyes to your lips, wondering if you've truly just said what you said.

Fine, whatever, he can be brave too. "If I tried to kiss you, would you let me?" he asks.

The upset wanes from your face and is replaced by a lighter kind of lovely. You pout. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Do you want me to kiss you?" he tries again.

"I don't know what the right answer is."

"I could…" Steve taps under your chin with his knuckle and lifts your face to his, eyes skipping between yours, the circle of your pupils dilated and shining. "I could never be cruel with you."

You wrap your hand around the crook of his elbow.

Understanding moves between you. He can pinpoint two realisations on your face as they happen. The first, that he isn't toying with you. That Steve had no idea how you felt, and that he hadn't known you were trying to make him jealous. The second, that you're about to be kissed.

"You were right," he says, his thumb sliding over the apple of your cheek.

"About what?" you ask, your eyes restless, clicking over each of his features in turn and getting caught on his lips.

He leans in, your mouths an inch apart. "Your date with Munson – I was jealous. But it's not about him. It's about you. You could've," he stops to laugh, bringing his second hand to the curve of your neck, "could've gone on a date with Keith and I would've been sick with it."

"Really?" you ask.

"Mm-hm," he hums lightly.

Your eyes close. Steve hesitates still, can't believe that he hasn't moved in, but he needs to say it.

"If I tried to kiss you, would you let me?" he asks again, voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Yeah, I'd let you."

His hands tremble with anticipation, a long time spent longing. He moves in, his ears pricked at the sound of your sweet inhale. A hitch, the same sound you make when you sleep beside him. The same sound you make when you're dreaming.

He spreads his hand over your thigh and kisses you.

Your lips are soft as a downy feather beneath his. You're shy, moving back as he moves forward, pliant under his guiding. He pets the juncture of your neck soothingly and pulls back fast, a short, chaste kiss. His lips burn.

"Again?" you ask.

He wades in carefully, worried to overwhelm you. You're like a wave cresting sand, falling back to push forward quickly. He's so elated to have his kiss returned that he sighs into you, palm spread wide over the dough of your thigh and squeezing carefully. He can feel your smile grow, your lips parting with it, the kiss inadvertently deepening.

You pull back. "I'm sorry."

His eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. "For what?" he asks, rubbing your thigh.

"Boys don't like it when you slip them the tongue on the first kiss."

He blinks owlishly and has to step away from you to stop from laughing in your face, never at you, but laugh all the same. He smothers it with a cough and then doesn't bother, chuckling as he stands between your legs and throws his arms around you in a steel-armed hug.

You giggle and bring your forearms to the back of his head. Your wrist craned, you sift your fingertips through his hair, nails running over his scalp fleetingly.

"Right," he says. "Duh."

"I remembered," you say, sounding infinitely pleased with yourself.

He feels the heat of your body sink into his and wants to scream. The indescribable heat of your kiss plays over his chest, snaking tendrils. He feels weightless.

"The second kiss though," he says. Strictly informative. "They don't mind it, the second time."

He moves his head away from yours to meet your eyes. They're lit with mirth.

"Don't mind it, huh?" you ask knowingly.

His cheeks ache with a grin as he pulls you back in.

"You know, I saw you spying outside Enzo's," you say much later, your head tucked into Steve's chest.

He didn't know but he's not surprised. "Gonna cancel your date?" he asks.

"What date?"

"On Friday?"

"That isn't a date. I joined Hellfire Club."

Oh my god, he thinks. Eddie fucking Munson. "You're gonna have to kiss me again," he says morosely. He cheers up considerably quickly as you lift your chin, beaming.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington drabble #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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m1styp1nk · 2 months

Note

Could you please do a Lucifer x female angel reader?

Please 😫🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

˚₊‧꒰ა ᴀɴɢᴇʟ ❤︎ ʙᴀʙʏ ໒꒱ ‧₊ ˚

ʟᴜᴄɪғᴇʀ x ғᴇᴍ! ᴀɴɢᴇʟ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

synopsis: much like lucifer, you’d been a dreamer. you held high hopes for heaven, new ways to spread fantastical ideas for all of creation. however, you were denied of your ideas. you were seen as dangerous. and with that, you’d been cast out of heaven with the man that inspired you.

additional tags: female reader, not proof read, fluff-ish

a/n: i wasn’t really sure how to interpret this considering i had so many ideas for him with an angel reader, but this is what i settled on! hope you enjoy it, and i won’t at all mind doing a redo if this wasn’t quite to your liking ( ´ ꒳ ` )

He was divine; wishing to spread only good. It was how you had always envisioned Lucifer. You’d hear stories of how the elders talked about him.

“A trouble maker,” they said. The man seemed to be nothing of the sort. Undeserving of the title he was given “Dangerous,” they’d continue.

The man wasn’t trustworthy. Many of the older, wiser seraphim’s would warn you pathetically. Their words fell to deaf ears each time.

All the elders were aware of your curiosity and interest for the man, qualities in which good angels shouldn’t possess.

But you were a good angel. However the man you’d sought to learn about was ‘wicked’.

Though many of the seraphim’s believed you had redeeming qualities; ones that would make up for your yearning to be like the man deemed trouble.

“Go down to the earth,” One of the seraphs requested. “teach the two humans about the divine heavens above. Plague them with good.”

You’d obeyed their orders in any angels usual submissive manners. With four outstretched and feathered wings, you flew down to the earth.

The thought of failure never crossed your mind as it was too full with determination. With pride as you were sure you wouldn’t mess up.

Regardless of how prideful you’d felt, the last thing you had expected to encounter was the same man that clouded your thoughts.

The same tempting angel you yearned to learn of.

Lucifer had found himself interested in the humans as much as you were interested in him. And with the temptation, he couldn’t resist sneaking down and watching them from afar.

But things became all the more intriguing as you flew down from the golden gates of heaven.

You had a kind nature as you introduced yourself to the two humans. A sort of aura that had him infatuated. One that made him want to rid of his hiding spot and wish he was the you were introducing yourself to.

You taught the man, Adam, how to be less demanding. You taught the woman, Lilith, the virtues of being more compliant when truly necessary.

The garden grew more peaceful once you had arrived. One thing threw you off. The presence of a lurking angel you had tried desperately to ignore was ever there in the first place.

You had noticed Lucifer on multiple different occasions. When you’d teach the pair of humans about certain sins, you noticed the way his head would peak from behind a tree and stare.

Not at all was he interested in what you would teach them. He was interested in you.

You tried to ignore him, silent prayers that he’d grow bored of you, despite you not wanting him to. You only hoped you knew better than to get distracted by the charming man from the work the seraphim’s expected you to accomplish.

But Lucifer drew you in like a magnet.

And you were fine with being his iron.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

The Garden of Eden was peaceful. A soft stream of water, animals lurking in every corner, and soft tufts of grass stretching across the horizon.

It was beautiful. A restful place.

But even with the comforting air, a certain angel still flooded your mind. One you felt staring at the back of your head for far too long now.

You weren’t sure when he would decide to finally reveal himself. In truth, you don’t even known how long it’s been since you’ve arrived at the garden. How long it’s been since you’ve been in heaven. And part of you couldn’t help but wonder if being sent here was a punishment.

That maybe if you’d kept to yourself instead of telling the seraphs of your interest in Lucifer, you wouldn’t feel homesick so often.

With your eyes settling on the tree of forbidden fruit in front of you, your body sank further into the bright green grass you lay on.

From the bush behind you came rustling.

A sigh, taking the place of a restrained laugh, escaped your lips. Now you weren’t sure if he was being so ‘non-secretive’ on purpose.

You moved to sit up, pulling your legs to your chest as you wrapped your arms around them for more security.

It wouldn’t hurt to finally start a conversation with the angel you couldn’t help but feel was stalking you now.

“Are you as troublesome as they say,” Your voice came out as a whisper, but melodic nonetheless.

The rustling came to a halt, few dark green leaves with cracked edges falling from the bush.

Even with how silent your voice was, he still heard it. And he was all ears.

This time, you couldn’t stop the giggle falling from your mouth, the corners of your lip upturning into a smile that reached your eyes perfectly.

Rather convenient he finally chose to quiet down.

He was caught. He knew he’d been for a while now. He noticed how your captivating eyes would catch his only for you to turn away just as quickly.

But Lucifer didn’t quite know yet if he was ready to finally introduce himself to you.

Though the way your voice was like that of a singer; smooth and rich, he couldn’t help but wash away the hesitance he previously held.

In just hearing your voice, it vanished.

“Well?” You hummed, letting your legs fall as you turned to face the bush you knew he was hiding in. Question is; will he continue to hide in it?

“You don’t exactly look like trouble, Lucifer.” It almost made him melt, the way you said his name. The feeling he’d felt when you said it with such kindness was unlike anything he’d known.

His red eyes stared at your soft features through a small hole in the bush, his pupils dilating unnoticeably as he examined you from up close.

He truly didn’t expect for you to see him.

But that doesn’t mean he’s mad that you did.

Your already sugary-sweet smile softened once you lowered your body closer to peer through the makeshift hole in the bush.

“You’ve been hiding here quite the while,” You stuck a hand into the bush, ignoring the feeling of the sticks that poked and pricked at your skin, “i’ve noticed you staring at me.”

Lucifer knew that. But hearing you admit it to him still made an comfortable warmth rise to his cheeks. And it wasn’t long until the hand you pushed through the barriers of the bush made it directly in front of him.

His eyes stared at it for a few passing moments. When he took notice of the way it urged closer to him, he got the hint to hold it.

With his mouth still sewn shut, he raised his hand, willingly placing it on yours.

Your hands were smooth. Gentle and soft. Nothing like his due to him ravaging through different bushes to hide in.

Lucifer didn’t receive much time to bask in the feeling of your hand in his, as a harsh tug to his arm broke him out of his thoughts.

In moments he was pulled out of the bush.

You stared at him, slightly shocked by his appearance. He was short but wore a large hat. And unlike you, he had an extra set of wings.

He stared up at you, mouth hanging open as if wanting to say something but staying quiet. He had leaves scattered around his clothes, some making their way to his light blond hair.

This was the man the seraphs called dangerous?

“You’re gorgeous.”

The words fell from his mouth faster than he could stop them. This time, your mouth opened. It stayed that way as an obvious pink blush slowly be and more and more evident on your face.

“What?”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

After your short encounter with him, visits with Lucifer became more frequent. It was usually you who would start the conversations. Considering he was still rather embarrassed of the first words he said to you were.

But he didn’t stop with his compliments. If anything, he’d grown relentless with them.

Though afterwards he’d fly off before you could say a thing.

You were the first ever person to make him feel such a way, you truly were an angel. A beautiful one. He regretted not falling for you sooner.

Eventually, he’d grown comfortable enough to get out of his hiding spot on his own and without you dragging him out of it.

That only strengthened your friendship with him.

You couldn’t comprehend why the seraphs had thought so lowly of him. His ideas were brilliant.

Just like he was.

Sometimes, as Lucifer would lay with you on the grass of the garden, he couldn’t help but wonder if he wanted things to change. He liked life in the garden; life with you.

But his rebellious side got the better of him one day. You had an argument with Lilith, Adam, and Eve. Lilith refused to be his wife. And she convinced Eve to do the same.

When you told Eve it to listen to Lilith, she had stormed off. You begged Lucifer to get her while you dealed with Adam.

Lucifer would never deny you. He would never deny the first woman he loved.

So he flew off to get her. But when he had finally reached her, she was at the forbidden tree.

As she reached up for the red fruit, he couldn’t bring himself to stop her. But he found himself wanting to encourage her to take a bite.

So he did. As did Lilith as she found herself following the two. So Eve ate the apple.

Founding out what Lucifer had done, the seraphs sent him and Lilith down to hell for it.

And they sent him there without your knowledge.

You didn’t notice he was missing. You were trying to calm down Adam, trying to understand why the man you fell in love with was taking so long.

It wasn’t until a seraphim flew down to retrieve you, til you understood. You failed.

You got distracted and blinded by love to the point you ignored your given task of putting the humans first. You failed to stop Eve and Lilith.

And so, you suffered the same price as Lucifer.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

It was his fault. And he knows it. But he didn’t mean for this to happen.

Lucifer never fell in love with Lilith. And he certainly never meant for her to fall for him. As for Eve, he never loved her either.

There had only been one woman he fell for, only one angel he was truly devoted to.

Maybe that’s why Lilith had left him.

To fill his own emptiness of living in a foreign place without you, he married Lilith. However, she realized the way he’d struggle to tell her he loved her. She noticed the way he would twist the ring around his finger as if wearing it bothered him.

But Lilith stayed. She stayed until she heard the way your name fell from his lips.

He understood why she left. And he understood why his own daughter hated him for it.

He thought he could love someone that wasn’t you. How wrong he was. You truly were heaven-sent. There was no one else like you.

When he was condemned to hell, he was sure he would never see you again.

Lucifer didn’t struggle to remember the feeling of happiness and bliss that was overwhelmed him when he did see you.

Fitting into heaven was easy. Dress yourself with a smile and a contempt look. In hell it was the opposite. You stood out amongst sinners.

A benefit to Lucifer.

As the depressed king of hell, Lucifer didn’t often take walks outside. He didn’t care for the scenery, for there was not much to be seen after all. Nor did he care for his people.

To him, nothing good could ever come from wandering about the streets of the pride ring.

He’d much rather be in his home, lying in bed and reminiscing of his time with you in the garden.

The way you would climb the trees effortlessly, despite your well-working wings. The way you would offer a hand to him when he struggled to climb the tree as fast as you did.

He missed it, he really did.

He missed your face and your touch. Your hands were always soft. When you would hold his own hand, it was delicate. When you would pry at his wings, you touched them as if they were fragile.

He missed that. He missed you.

He missed someone he thought he’d never have within his reach again. But he relished in the joy that overcame him when he was proven wrong.

You looked as beautiful as the day he first met you; the day you first held his hand. Beautiful but tired a d restless. Hell wasn’t the place for you.

And it showed.

But if you have him time, heard him out on his relentless apologies for being the reason you were in hell in the first place, he could show you it isn’t that bad if your surrounded by the right people.

And he was the right person.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Words couldn’t explain what Lucifer thought of you. Especially now as you sat in front of him.

The man didn’t change. And neither did you.

He was short, but as you sat on a small wooden bench in a bleak and burnt park in hell, he stood above you. And god were you breathtaking.

Captivating and angelic, just as you had been on Eden. He was sorry; he truly was. Lucifer knew he was the reason you were down here.

“Luci?” The nickname made his knees weak. And with your voice which, contained a heavenly quality to it, only numbed his heart even more.

But the frown on your lips soured the moment.

“I’m sorry.” Lucifer’s voice cracked almost uncharacteristically. “Y/n, I’m so sorry-”

He knew he much hope the seraphs held for you when you tasked with watching the humans. He loved you. He really did. The last thing he wanted was to ruin everything for you.

But he went and did that anyway.

You watched as Lucifer’s face scrunched up, his eyes watering the longer you stayed silent. You hated how you felt. Wanting to be mad at him all while wanting to hug him and kiss him; two things you never got the chance to do before.

Instead, your arm reached up to where Lucifer stood in front of you. Your hand barely brushed against his cheek, but he was quick to lean into your touch. To say he was starved of it was an understatement.

Lucifer’s lips trembled lightly as he took in your presence, basking in it. He moved his hand up, gently placing right on top of the one you had on his pale cheek.

“It’s okay,” Your voice was captivating and reassuring. Maybe a portion of you was still mad at him. But whatever had been there was promptly drowned away.

A tear left his right eye, one your thumb tenderly wiped away. “I could never stay mad at my Luci.”

Stumbling upon him was unusual. But it wasn’t horrible. He was simply the last face you thought you’d ever see again. Though you had no complaints.

In a quick second, Lucifer’s arms wrapped around your body.His body was bent down to hold your sitting one, his head buried into your chest.

He couldn’t bear to lose you. Not again. He lost Eve, and he had lost Lilith. But their absences didn’t effect him nearly as much as yours did.

The hug had shocked you, but you didn’t hesitate to envelope him in a warm hug.

Lucifer’s largest wings tore the fabric on his back to come out, eagerly wrapping around your. Your wings were smaller, but did the same.

“You really are a dream come true, Y/n. A perfect angel.”

The words were muffled, his mouth pressed against the surface of your neck as he spoke.

Hell wasn’t as perfect as the garden of Eden was. But to Lucifer, anything was perfect for as long as you were around.

Your being alone illuminated the dark pits of hell you’d both been trapped in.

And Lucifer was fine if you were the only star lighting up his dim path. He was fine with you being his star. His Morningstar.

God, he couldn’t wait for you to take that name.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin x y/n #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n

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kuro93 · 10 months

Text

Tokyo Mew Mew New ~ Megamorphose / Can-Do-Dreamer Smewthie Cover CD ~ Official Art ❤

HD Version Here.

Scanned by KuRo93

#tokyo mew mew #mew mew #tmm #tmmn #tokyo mew mew new #tmm new #ichigo momomiya #minto aizawa #retasu midorikawa #purin fon #zakuro fujiwara #mia ikumi #ikumi mia #official art #scan #mahou shoujo #majokko #magical girls #kuro93

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 9 months

Text

You're waiting for a train...(9)

Mr Charles and Miss Nobody

Robert Fischer x reader

description - Ariadne pries deeper. The dreamers drop down another level. Mr Charles introduces himself.

warnings - allusions to abuse with a knife, drinking (character is of age according to the British drinking age of 18), fake kidnapping, Robert being a soft boi whilst flirting

word count - 3.5k

a/n - had a spurt of inspiration because I went to see Oppenheimer for the 2nd time today! Finally got to see it in Imax! What an experience! I took my mum and I had to persuade her to come and she was kind of just coming for me but by the end she LOVED it and we couldn't stop talking about it on the way home. It was just such a lovely memory that I got to make with my mum ❤

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

I stood still in front of the workbench, trying to put as much space in between me and my dad as possible. Arthur hovered close to me but couldn’t bring himself to actually come over to converse with me. Ariadne approached me from behind. I jumped as she startled me. She lowered her voice and spoke her question, that she was afraid to ask.

“Do you remember your mom, after –”

“You mean after her and my dad woke up?” I nodded my head feeling the end of her question. Looking over to my father’s hunched frame where she had just come from.

“Yeah.” She softly uttered.

I braced my body against the table and threw my mind back.

“I was the first face she saw once she awoke. But the look in her eyes was so weird. There wasn’t love there. There was confusion.” I rolled into my answer with ease, as if the words had been on the tip of my tongue. “I distinctly remember I went to hug her, but she flinched. I was so hurt and I looked to my dad but he couldn’t even look me in the eye.” I punctuated the end with a repressed sob remembering that fateful day.

I was 15 years old. Dad had wanted me to watch over their bodies as they slept and as the count went down I had begun to wait so I could be there, too excited for them to wake up. Mum’s eyes blinked open first. She rolled over to gaze to the ceiling and I had crept over into her line of sight. I saw the breath hold as she met my eyes, almost afraid at the thought of my very existence. I clasped my hands to stop myself jumping onto her body in the tightest hug possible. Every time they went under without me, I felt tremendous loss. But they always came back. Always.

“As the days got longer, so did the arguments. Hours upon hours of screaming and yelling. Philippa and James would come into my bed, and I’d build forts, read stories. Anything to make them forget.”

“So, she didn’t believe in you either?” Ariadne broke through my speech.

I giggled in disbelief at my own memories. “No. She thought me to be a projection, and there’s only one thing you do with projections who you see to be a threat.” My eyes fell down to my forearm and the raised pink flesh which sliced down my arm. Ariadne followed my gaze. I bristled under her stare. My immediate response pulled down my rolled up sleeve for extra protection.

“So she thought she was still in limbo –” I ripped my jacket from the chair to my side.

“It’s not polite to pry.” I threw my jacket on with fearsome motion. “You know you don’t have to know every little detail about us. You just have to trust what we can do.” I flicked my hair out of the colour. “After this, we become nothing to you. Don’t dig the shallow grave any deeper.” I stormed off.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“Alright bag ‘em.”

“You’re going for a ride.” Arthur and Cobb, masked, threw bags over Robert and ‘Browning’s’ heads. Before the sack could cover him Robert rushed out.

“What about the girl? From before? What will happen to her?”

“We’re leaving her, she’s no longer any use.” Fearing this meant what he thought it meant, Robert’s eyes stung.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The two men were dragged out, the ratty sacks making them more alike to scarecrows than humans. They were thrown into the minibus but Robert continued to plead.

“We’re worth more to you alive! Do you hear me?” Cobb dribbled the sedative onto the sack, knocking him out cold.

Eames ripped off his own sack as he got out of the car, no longer disguised. Remembering, I also removed my own, no longer posing any risk to the mission.

“What’d you get?” Dad asked.

Eames struggled to catch his breath, his fearful acting becoming hard to shake off. “That boys relationship with his father is even worse than we imagined.” My shoulders slumped.

“This helps us how?” Arthur questioned whilst circling the van.

“The stronger the issues, the more powerful the catharsis.” Cobb answered on Eames’ behalf.

“How are we gonna reconcile them if they’re so estranged?” Arthur refused to let any concern be lost.

“Well, I’m working on that, aren’t I?” Eames fought back. He baffled at Arthur’s persistence.

“Work faster.” Arthur spat. I punched his shoulder from behind. He looked down towards me and mumbled out. “Sorry, Eames.”

“What was that?” Eames exaggeratedly offered his ear.

“Sorry. It’s great work.” Arthur forced out of his unwilling mouth. Eames winked at me before getting in his seat. I slowly passed Arthur by to squeeze his arm in a silent thank you. But I felt him leave my grip as quick as I had initiated it.

“The projections are closing in quick.” Arthur hurried to an open door, armed. “We gotta break out of here before we’re totally blocked in.” He threw open the door wider, offering a clear view. He raised a machine gun, aiming it high, but his shots at the projections kept falling short. And he was met with a response of bullets.

“We mustn’t be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.” Eames approached brandishing an even bigger gun, belittling Arthur, and his choices. The projection was vanquished in one clean trigger pull. I rolled my eyes at their pettiness and gestured for them to hurry back to the van where I’d already taken my place. I’d deliberately sat by Robert to hold his hand. Whether this comfort was for him or me. My thumb still stroked up and down his palm.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

We pulled out of the warehouse, our survival in the hands of Yusuf. Speed was imperative to our survival. We didn’t need to kill the projections, just outrun them. Yet my pistol never left my hand.

“Now we need to shift his animosity from his father to his godfather.” Cobb stated.

“You’re gonna destroy his one positive relationship?” Ariadne rightly protested. I went to agree but the necessity was too severe.

“No, we repair his relationship with his father,” Eames jumped in. “Whilst exposing his godfather’s true nature. We should charge Fischer a lot more than Saito for this job.”

“Hoping that his godfather was actually a bad man or we just lost him someone dear to him.” I solemnly said. My thumb continuing to find solace in the hand in mine.

“Maybe we’ll just have to find him someone else.” Eames whispered for my ears only with a comforting wink my way.

“What about his security?” Arthur dragged me back to the obstacle at hand. “It’s gonna get worse as we get deeper?”

“I think we run with Mr Charles.” My dad’s tone held finality despite it’s questioning words.

“No.”

“Who’s Mr Charles?” Eames inquired, feeling out of the loop.

“Bad idea.”

“The second we get into that hotel and approach Fischer, his security is gonna be all over us.” Dad explained. “We run with Mr Charles just like we did with the Stein job.”

“And we all saw how that went.” I mumbled under my breath but I was caught by Dad who fixed me a glare which I took to mean questioning him will get me nowhere. I sunk back into my seat.

“So you’ve done it before?” Eames hopefully spoke up to assure himself.

“Yeah, and it didn’t work.” Arthur corrected. “The subject realised he was dreaming, and his subconscious tore us to pieces.” I briefly inhaled to prevent the shudder that ran down my spine.

“Excellent! But you learned a lot, right?” Eames continued to be hopeful. I could no longer sense where the sarcasm ended.

“I’m gonna need some kind of distraction.”

“No problem. How about a lovely lady I’ve used before.”

“Is it vain if I assumed you were talking about me?” I teased Eames. He laughed and I enjoyed relishing in the small moment.

“Listen to me.” Dad leant forward to warn Yusuf. “You drive carefully alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Everything down there is gonna be unstable as hell”

“Don’t jump too soon!” Arthur cautioned. “We only got one shot at the kick. We gotta make it.”

“I’ll play the music to let you know it’s coming. The rest is on you.”

The IV’s were pulled out and we each relaxed back. I inserted Robert’s making sure to take my time and to be careful. I’d hate to cause any more injury. The disjointed movement of the car made it hard but I calmed myself by the time the liquid began to enter. Each muscle untethered from it’s neighbour and each joint appeared to sink into a deeper pool, spreading at the advanced area. The feeling had nearly reached the brink of my mind so I squeezed his hand tight one last time before we both slipped under.

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LAYER TWO: THE HOTEL

My eyes blinked open with the sting of tiny needles. I braced myself on the couch I had been staged on. I felt down my body feeling the harsh material of the formal business dress. Not unlike the one I wore on top. I flexed my feet in their restrictive black heels. Shit. Me falling flat on my ass was definitely not going to draw attention.

The expansive space closed in on me as the drastic structure felt so familiar yet so unknown. The hotel taunted me. It’s wide-open lobby seemed intent on swallowing me whole. For the first time I could feel my subconscious in my brain. It throbbed from it’s discovered location.

The strings in my chest loosened upon seeing Arthur walking towards me with a cheerful disposition. I sighed at his presence with relief. I raised to join him halfway but he breezed past my frame. He joined Ariadne who had seemed to appear behind me. They conversed before striding off to the vast staircase, they walked purposefully without looking back. I struggled to decide how I felt and landed on awkwardly placing one foot one direction and then turning the other way to repeat. I startled as a hand roughly landed on my shoulder and I jumped away to meet the face of Eames.

“You saw that?” I stuttered out through an awkward smile. Self-consciously closing my arms in on myself.

“I’ve said it before, but it never stops being true.” Eames huffed out. “He’s an idiot.” With a soft smile he gently gripped my chin. I blushed at the gesture and responded by knocking into him without any true force.

“Come on, I’ve got something better.” Eames sang out, intriguing me even more. I followed him laughing at the faux spring in his step.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I struggled to contain my laughter as Eames seduced Robert in his favourite disguise. A blonde curvy gal with two big…personalities. Eames always claimed he’d designed her based on this supermodel he once dated but his story was full of plot holes. I sipped on my martini which I stewed in in the corner of the bar, just a few feet from the two. Eames had offered me a front seat to ‘his greatest performance yet’ and it had truly lifted my spirits.

I bit my lip at Robert’s responses. They were dripping in adorable awkwardness. He couldn’t meet her eye and only managed out stutters. The sight tugged on my heart and I stopped myself from gathering him up in my arms so I could never let him go.

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“There goes Mr Charles.” Arthur jutted his head to the stride of my father who was entering the bar as well. Ariadne subtly followed his gesture, in a misled attempt to be inconspicuous.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

“I guess my story wasn’t to your liking.” She rose from the chair and strutted away. I could no longer contain my laugh at the shake of the hips, and a giggle burst through. Robert took notice of the noise and turned to face me as I tried to stifle my laughs. I didn’t feel the need to hide myself under his gaze so I left my smile where it was.

“I’m sorry was something amusing?” He questioned but a smile crept up his lips.

“Forgive me, I am often amused by men’s follies.” I picked up my glass to sit down at the stool next to him, which he had hurriedly pulled out at my movement.

He spun his body so he could fully face me interested in the discussion I had started. “Is it so unbelievable that a woman like that would be flirting with me?” He took my bait.

“I think it’s unbelievable that you think she was doing it for free.” I finished with a victorious sip to my martini once I heard a giggle. A genuine giggle. Free of biased or agenda.

“She’s not my type anyways.” I loudly laughed at this. A woman like that was any red blooded man’s type, and I told him so.

“I prefer women who enjoy martinis.” He nodded towards my drink and I blushed at the insinuation. But I couldn’t resist the tease.

“Who say’s I’m enjoying it.” I picked up the martini-soaked olives and slid them off the stick with my teeth. Our eyes never leaving the others.

“Well I don’t know.” He rung his hands feeling uncomfortable in this flirting territory.

“I’ll give you a hint. I’m enjoying this martini as much as I am enjoying talking to you.” I leaned in close as if we were about to exchange a secret. “And that’s a lot.” I whispered and relished in the red hue which spread across his cheeks. I didn’t want to pull back. Enjoying being able to study every inch of his face. Our mouths held the skeleton of a smile but our eyes delved deeper.

“I wondered when I was going to see you again.” The words left before his mind could keep up. I panicked upon hearing. In his eyes I saw a fight within his mind before he uttered out. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know where that came from.”

“It’s fine.” I chuckled as I was out of the woods. “The mind is a vast place. Something’s bound to slip through the gaps.” I eyed him from the side as he returned to his position.

“What’s your name?” He turned to face me once again.

“I’m…” I stripped my mind searching for an answer. “I’m nobody. Nobody anyone’s usually pleased to see anyway.” I smiled to soften my words.

“Well, Miss Nobody,” He happily played along. “I’m pleased to see you.” The full sincerity of his words floored my very being. He’d once again stolen my speech.

“Mr Fischer, pleased to see you again.” My dad hurriedly interrupted the sliver of space between us. “Rod Green from marketing.” He held out his hand and Robert refused it, angered at our conversations abrupt end. “I see you’ve met my daughter.” He gestured over to me. I shot him up a glare, in disbelief at what he’d just said. Robert suddenly sat up straighter. Leaning away from me as if to prove his innocence. I opened my mouth, but no words were formed. I simply decided to huff like a child at my Dad’s embarrassing actions.

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“Who or what is Mr Charles?” Ariadne interrogated Arthur due to his apparent dislike of the task.

“It’s a gambit designed to turn Fischer against his own subconscious.”

“And why don’t you approve?”

“Because it involves telling the mark that he’s dreaming, which involves attracting attention to us.” He explained.

“Thought Cobb said never to do that?” Ariadne became confused.

Arthur hummed in agreement. “So now you’ve realised how much time Cobb spends doing things he says never to do.” They both chuckle.

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*your pov*

I shudder as the water in Fischer’s glass tilts, ignoring it’s own gravity.

Robert silently apologised before turning to address the unusual man who had just claimed to know him and to be my dad. “I’m sorry who did you say you were?”

“Rod Green from marketing.” Cobb sat down, sandwiching Robert in between us. “But that’s not true at all, is it?”

Robert glanced at me seeking my reassurance. I was saddened it could only be an assured smile rather than a gentle touch.

“My name is Mr Charles. You remember me don’t you?” Cobb pressed as the sensitivity of time was apparent. “I’m the head of your security down here. We both are.”

Robert looked towards my young form incredulously. “Security huh? You work for the hotel?” I now felt uncomfortable in the line of questioning. I wasn’t meant to be in this position and dad had knowingly put me here.

“No, I specialise in a very specific type of security.” Dad lowered his voice. “Subconscious security.”

“you’re talking about dreams?” Robert scoffed. “Are you talking about…extraction?”

“I am here to protect you, you –” A waiter dropped his tray on the bar next to me, the liquid spilling onto my arm. I reacted to the cold liquid. Robert grabbed a napkin to dab me dry. I gave him a smile in gratefulness. I noticed my dads eyes numb and focus on a distant spot. I spun around near breaking my neck. I just managed to catch the frames of Thomas and Philippa exiting the vision. My breath quickened feeling my dads problems leak into my own. I spun back before Fischer could follow my eyes. I fixed myself onto my dads troubled expression as if willing him to pull it together. If he didn’t have time for my emotional immaturity then I certainly had no time for his. The conversations around us halted sensing my father’s unusual presence.

“Mr Fischer I’m here to protect you in the event that someone tries to access your minds through your dreams.” Cobbs continuation meant the projections relaxed themselves. “You’re not safe here.” He leaned in to pour his next words directly into his mind. “They’re coming for you.”

My unconscious body’s cheek was flushed with raindrops in the van and this meant a cascade of water shuttered on to the window in front of the three of us, startling both Robert and I.

“Strange weather isn’t it?” Dad pointed out. “You feel that?” As Robert took in his surroundings I could feel his anxiety rise so my hand found itself on his thigh to calm him.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“What’s happening?” Ariadne panicked at the shift of the earth.

“Cobb is drawing Fischer’s attention to strangeness of the dream.” Arthur explained. “Which is making his subconscious look for the dreamer.” Arthur stilled his panic. “For me.”

“Quick, give me a kiss.” Arthur asked once many eyes were on them. Ariadne followed and they met in a soft kiss. Arthur closed his eyes and he thought of y/n. The kiss felt wrong. I mean, it felt nice, he’s a man, but it didn’t feel right.

“They’re still looking at us.” Ariadne continued to observe around her.

“Worth a shot.” Arthur teased. Ariadne sensed his intent and couldn’t help the smirk she adorned. A silence hung between the two.

“So are we gonna talk about it?”

“About what?”

“The elephant in the room. The elephant named y/n who you refuse to talk to.” Ariadne pushed Arthur’s cold shoulder. “You saw her there when we first woke but you brushed right past. And you can’t tell me it’s cause you were desperate to work with me. There’s only one reason a man treats a woman like that. I’ve seen how close you two are. So what happened?”

“Nothing happened.” Arthur tried to subdue but his lie seeped right through. Ariadne was unsatisfied and wouldn’t let it rest. Arthur relented to her persistence.

“From the first moment we met, I never agreed with her being in the field with us. Of course I couldn’t understand how Cobb, as her father, could allow her but I seemed to always be more upset with y/n. She willingly goes along with it, putting herself in danger.” Arthur hung his head and focused on his fidgeting hands. He whispered out as if afraid to believe it himself. “I sometimes worry that she does it to feel something. Feel the pain.”

“Or she’s just a girl trying to keep her family together.” Ariadne finished. She sensed the information he was leaving out. But she couldn’t let him continue with a vision of y/n clouded in red of his own making. “You know, you’re gonna need a bit more makeup to cover up your bruised ego.” She poked his cheek through her tease. Arthur relented himself to giggle at her mockery. Feeling the humour in his situation. They laughed together before rising to continue with their mission.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

“You feel that.” Robert’s mind woke up as world around him swirled. “You’ve actually been trained for this Mr Fischer.” The room shook and began to shake off it’s various decorations. “Pay attention to the strangeness of the weather, the shift in gravity.” I could feel Robert awaken to the reality we had created. The gravity changed around us and I wished to comfort Robert more but now anything I did remained under my dads watchful eye.

I leant into his side, placing my lips by his ear.

“You’re in a dream, honey.”

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