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noisyquokka · 9 months

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By A Thread...

PAIRING - Chan x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - When life leaves you hanging off the end of your rope, fighting on your own is a struggle. You thank the universe for giving you that one person who can always make those struggles a little more bearable.

WORDCOUNT - 3.5k

WARNINGS - TRIGGER WARNING *** Talks/thoughts of suicide, description of panic attacks, anxiety, reader's mental health has tanked (Please don't read if you aren't comfortable with these)*** angst, comfort, emotional support, childhood friends || Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N - I started this writing piece to help me get through a really tough mental health episode. While I didn't finish it during that time, something brought me back to it recently and it's a bittersweet feeling to have completed it. After thinking about things for a bit, I've decided that I'd post this for anyone else who may be going through those difficult thoughts, or who has in the past. Chan's Room has always been a safe space for me, and I know a lot of us resonate with that.

Knowing this is a heavy fic, I feel it appropriate to leave a link to suicide hotlines. This site has international hotlines for those of you outside of the U.S. as well as other useful info. I know this planet is a questionable place to be existing on at the moment, but the human experience isn't complete without some struggles. We can all get through it, whatever it is we're struggling with. I'm proud of you! 💛

You shut the door to the apartment, slugging your shoes off at the entrance. The stresses of the day weigh heavily on your shoulders, tense and aching as you trudge through the hallway toward your bedroom.

"You're home early." Chan's bubbly voice resonates through the apartment; a welcoming sound. If you would've acknowledged it, that is. Brown eyes shift from the blue-light of the laptop at the lack of a response, catching the ghost of your body whiz through the kitchen from his spot on the sofa. Your footfalls reverberate against the floorboards. It was the door slamming shut, rattling the walls, the electrifying static that had purged into the space. That's when Chan knew that something wasn't right.

You sag against the woodgrain of the door, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt of self-consoling as you slowly slide floorward on shaky legs. Breaths come in shallow puffs of air, your lungs constricting like a mouse in the death grip of a python. Everything that had happened today had finally tripped the tidal wave of negative thoughts you had been pushing down for... God knows how long now. You can't remember. All you know is you want it to end before these thoughts drag you too deep into the rabbit hole to where you can't crawl back out on your own.

Trembling fingers wipe the tears from your cheeks, although it seems futile when fresh ones retrace their tracks down your skin. You focus in on your breathing with a shaky breath and furrowed brows. A deep breath in. Hold.

5...4...3...2...1...

A deep breath out.

A soft rapping on the door startles you, shoulders jerking violently. You know who it is before he even speaks your name, voice muffled beyond the barrier of the door, soft and laced with concern.

"Hey, you alright?"

The crease between your brows deepen as your ears pop, drums a void of rumbles and vibrations as if someone stuffed them full of cotton. Teary, bloodshot eyes tilt toward the ceiling.

"Yeah," You wince at the warble in your voice, clearing your throat before trying again. "Yeah! I'm fine, Chan." When no response comes from beyond the door, you know. You know that he knows you are far from fine.

Chan's shadow crawls up the hallway of the shared apartment as he shoulders his weight against the doorframe to your room. He could count the amount of times you two have found yourselves in this very predicament on his fingers three times over. Most nights he'd ask if he could come in and you would both talk about what was bothering you.

Tonight wasn't most nights, though.

Chan shifts himself so his back is against the doorframe, sliding down the woodgrain until he's settled on the wood floor, legs crossed beneath him. He bites the flesh of his cheek at the sound of your sniffles, his heart aching in his chest.

"You wanna talk?" He asks, and you feel your composure cracking at his tone. So courteous and careful, like always. You nod your head, tongue darting out to lick chapped lips and salty tears.

"Sure."

"Alright, let's see..." Chan trails off, taking a deep breath as he racks his brain for a topic. Something to take your mind off your troubles. His lips twitch into a ghost of a smile as he turns his head toward the door. "What's your favourite flower?"

"What?" You scoff, wiping the tears from your cheeks. He begins to repeat himself, and you cut him off.

"You already know the answer to that, Chan."

"Sunflowers." He says, resting an elbow against one knee. "We were what... nine and twelve when you became obsessed with them because Ms. Keller had planted some in her yard down the street."

Chan's smiling. You can hear it in his voice.

"When your dad bought some sunflower seeds from the store, you stole some from the bag and I helped you dig a hole in the backyard so you could plant them. You watered them for months until the weather got too cold. They never grew because they were roasted sunflower seeds." He's rattling on as if he's experiencing the memory all over again behind those brown eyes of his.

Your laugh is broken and groggy - a candle's light in the dark, casting away shadows that had built up in the corners of the apartment - but it's the reason that Chan's heart skips when it flows beneath the door.

"Oh my god, I forgot about that," You reply, sniffling behind long sleeves. "I thought if my parents found out we planted them that they'd be mad."

The image of you and Chan sneaking around the yard in search of a shovel and a watering can is a core memory, the spring sunshine kissing your skin. The smell of freshly turned dirt and a handful of salty sunflower seeds is as vivid in your mind as the man beyond the door.

"But the next spring, Ms. Keller came over and helped us plant some sunflowers in your yard because your dad seen us trying to plant his roasted seeds in the far corner of the garden."

You chuckle as Chan recalls the memory, eyes downcast to the floor. Everything was so carefree and enjoyable as a kid, and now it feels like work to find just a fraction of enjoyment in your life. Too much anxiety over whether or not you're on the right path, nevermind worrying that you're going about living life the wrong way. As if there's some manual to go by. Your chest tightens and you hold your breath, wet lashes fluttering.

Everything is quiet for a moment, save for the wall clock ticking softly.

"I understand why you always loved them." Chan says, and for a moment it sounds like words he didn't mean to verbalize. You know him better than that. "They're so vibrant and full of life - just like you."

You swallow down the ball of nerves, but that does nothing to quell your active tear ducts. Chan tilts his head toward the door at the sounds of your untamed whimpers, brows furrowing.

"Can I come in?" His voice is sheer lace, delicate as he reaches out to you. And you are well beyond your breaking point, rubbing at your wet, matted lashes. He listens carefully for the sounds of shuffling beyond the door, or even your verbal consent.

The lock on the door lets off a subtle click as you wrap shaky fingers around the knob and twist. He's off the floor before you can swing the door open, meeting your gaze with ember eyes that shine like the hearth of a home.

There you are.

The one constant in Chan's life since the first grade. You, standing in front of him in your crumbling state, trying desperately to hold yourself together like a tattered flag in a storm; a whole piece of fabric battered and torn by gale force winds, frayed edges violently tearing away until single threads are all that's left.

And there he is. Your life raft saving you from drowning in the choppy waters of your mind. Chan stands with open arms, awaiting the inevitable weight of your head against his chest. Your skeleton rattles against wound muscle and vermilion-coated veins when you take a step forward. As the weight of your world comes crashing down upon his shoulder, he holds you with the utmost care, strong arms encircling you as if afraid that you would break under the pressure. The warmth of his body only eggs on the tears, breaking your composure further as you collapse into him. Sobs wrack your body, muffled in his shoulder. Shaky fingers grasp for something to hold onto.

"It's alright," Chan murmurs, digging his nose into your scalp. You feel him press kisses into your scalp, breathing you in as your tears seep into the fabric of his shirt. Fingers splay against your back, soothing shapes and gentle motions running the expanse of your spine, rocking the two of you back and forth. His warmth cradles you, soothes your pain. You never feel shame in these arms. Only the strongest, surest form of love and support that you could ever find in someone. Chan's heart drums against his chest. "You can let it out, it's just me."

You don't know what Gods had decided that you were worthy of such a soul, but right now the only way you think you can thank them is through your violent sobs. Grief and gratitude blend together. You needed this comfort desperately, and it shows in your inconsolable tears. In how quiet you are, unable to verbalize much of your inner monologue when it's thrashing around the confines of your psyche like a hurricane. If a Category five was the worst, you were sitting at a nonexistent Category seven. Chan's words echo in your mind.

"They're so vibrant and full of life - just like you."

There's no point in trying to compose yourself. The floodgates have opened. You feel yourself overheating and yet you crave the comfort that Chan is offering, whispering words of encouragement as you press your face into his shoulder. Soothing each scar that litters the muscle in your chest that beats like hummingbird wings.

"Am I a bad person for wanting to die?"

Your brain is so overwhelmed that your mouth opens without a second thought. You hope your words fall on deaf ears, what with how most of them were interrupted by broken hiccups and a pounding head. But when Chan's body goes rigid under your touch, you know he's heard you. His grip tightens, your name whispered against your hair as his voice catches in his throat. If he felt something was off when you walked in the door earlier, it was painfully obvious now. You were lost. Utterly lost and alone, sending out an S.O.S in the labyrinth of your miserable mind. He's talked you down from the brink of destruction many times through the years. To say he was heaven-sent would be a severe understatement. But this was different to the others. Hearing those words come from anyone was enough to bowl him over. Hearing them come from your mouth, though? He's never heard you speak this way in all his years of knowing you. He wanted to know what had been the origin of your tears, but this was not where he expected the conversation to go.

Your breath catches as you sense how much your words affected him. Chan's silence weighed heavily in the air, your words sinking into the hard wood floors until they were weighted with lead. You pull away from him, gaze downcast as you wipe away the tears on your face. A flood of guilt crashes over you, throat constricting like a zip tie closing around your esophagus.

Put the mask back on. Rebuild your walls. You've fucked up now.

"I-I'm fine. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry." You turn your head, unable to bring yourself to look at your best friend since childhood as more tears fall from doused lashes. Your chest tremors for putting that burden on him, something you hadn't meant to say in the first place. You've never said those words out loud before. You never wanted people to worry. Never wanted to be a problem for them. But here you stand, bearing intrusive thoughts to your best friend. It was like throwing a pile of bricks at him and expecting him to bear all that weight with no trouble.

"You're not. Look at me, listen to me." He says, taking your shaking shoulders with a gentle yet firm grip to turn you towards him again. Calloused fingers brush against your jaw, tipping your chin up to meet your glassy eyes. Brown optics flicker across your face, moving from feature to feature with the deepest concern. There's an emptiness in your eyes that twists Chan's heart, the ache so miserable that tearing the muscle from behind the wall of marrow would be more bearable than leaving it be. Chan's tone is adamant, steady despite the weight of the words you've just entrusted to him. "No, you're not."

New tears retrace the old tracks down exhausted epidermis, eyebrows sliding in as you feel Chan press another kiss to your scalp, lingering a moment longer than before. Chan's response only causes you more anxiety, unsure what exactly he's referring to. Not fine or not a bad person for having such heavy thoughts? He must pick up on it, quick to speak up again.

"You're not a bad person at all, and I think you know that. You're just struggling right now, and that's okay."

You sniffle and shake your head, fighting against a tidal wave of hysterics.

"But, what if I..." You swallow, your mind so jumbled you're unable to spit out the words in their original form. "What if I can't get through this?"

"Oh, love..." Chan murmurs, his voice tremulous. It takes everything in him to reign in his own tears. The very thought of you giving in to those intrusive thoughts is like driving a dagger through his heart. His hands leave your face and wrap around you again, his strong hold tightening until you're lifted off the ground, cradled in his arms as he walks toward your bed. You are so tired, physically and mentally overwhelmed by his compassion and the gentle way in which he carries you. You fold into him like a tired newborn. Being tucked into secure arms as he lays you in bed feels like something more intimate than anything you've ever known. Chan is quick and careful when he settles in beside you.

"You don't need to say a word," He whispers, brushing stray hairs from your face and wiping your tears. "just listen to me."

You nod, a broken whimper escaping your throat as he pulls you into his arms. Chan rubs your back soothingly, letting you cry like a child, and he holds you like letting you go would be a criminal offense.

"You don't have to tell me what brought you to this point, I don't need to know if you don't want me to." He starts, his voice rumbling through his chest as he speaks. It offers you some modicum of comfort as you rest one of your arms over his torso. He lets out a heavy breath, eyes cast to the ceiling. "You aren't a bad person for having those thoughts. They don't define who you are, or where you're going. The fact that you're telling me this says a lot, that you've been holding this in for God knows how long."

"I'm just- it's so exhausting to keep living." You mumble, wiping at your runny nose. You press yourself further into Chan's side, feeling his arms tighten around you with every shift you make. His gaze falls to you when you speak, taking in every word with sharp ears. "I've had those thoughts, myself, y'know." His voice is thick with unspoken secrets, a heavy breath hitting the crown of your head - shallow and sharp. You lay with your head against his chest, silent as he confesses to his own feelings of hopelessness.

You've never seen Chan lose the façade of the stable best friend. Even through the stresses of high school, he was the rock, a bastion of strength and resilience. But Chan knows. He knows what those thoughts are like, the struggle of falling asleep while trying to fend off cackling demons from the foot of the bed. The pain of trying so hard to fit the mold that society has crafted, that every single individual is expected to fit to a T.

Perhaps that's why he knows how to soothe you, how to take care of you and hold back his own tears. Even if he doesn't know how frayed and weathered your thread on this life is.

"I never told you about them. Never told anyone, really. I put all my feelings into songwriting, even if I never released half of them." Chan's body relaxes beneath you as the weight of his secrets leaves him. A half-hearted sigh. A lazy hand traces the curve of your back in a calming gesture, the rhythm of his fingers almost hypnotizing.

"You always believed in my impossible dreams... encouraged me to pursue them like it was your calling in life. You made me happy through all of my downfalls." You pick your head up at his words, resting your chin against his breast. Two pairs of eyes lock on one another. There's a ghost of a smile quirking Chan's lips after a moment, brown eyes glowing like the embers of a fire.

"You're one of the good ones." He pauses, bringing a hand up to swipe at the stray hairs in your face, running his fingers through the locks like he always does. "You're so much that this world doesn't deserve, but everything that is needed. Just like those sunflowers that summer. Little seeds that were waiting for their chance to shine, and you lit them up like little beacons of hope."

Even though fresh tears are streaming down your face, Chan beams at the soft laugh that you release. It's genuine this time, unbroken and featherlight. Childlike. These tears aren't ones of hopelessness and sleepless nights, but of gratitude and love for the person embracing you. The way Chan speaks to you, the way he's willing to offer up his strength and his heart without expecting anything of you in return is exactly what you need. In a world filled with harsh realities and high expectations and constant beat downs, he is the personification of empathy. His voice calms your anxious mind, even if his words don't completely wipe out the heavy storm. He tames it, eases the hurricane force winds and manifests a steady rain that could lull you to sleep.

"I'm not going to let you drown, alright. I know things seem rough right now, but you've accomplished so much and you're gonna do so much more." Chan's eyes burn into yours, unwavering in his conviction. You feel the pad of his thumb against your cheek as he wipes more tears away, the heat and passion in his expression shifting to tenderness as he speaks. "As long as I'm here, you'll never be alone in this."

His words are the affirmations you've told yourself for months, fighting your negative thoughts with positivity that only worked for so long. But the words held an air of certainty coming from Chan. There's value in them. It's the first time in a long time that hearing someone - even yourself - telling you that it's going to be okay brings you some semblance of peace, of safety. Knowing that things can get better given a little time. Sunflowers only bloom after some tender loving care; you learned that back when you were kids.

God damn, were you determined back then...

Every fiber of Chan's body exudes safety as he run his hands through your hair, your tears faltering with every delicate touch as you shed the weight of inner phantoms that you've repressed for forever. Your eyes close at the gesture, feeling his heartbeat thunder beneath your palm.

"You take care of me, I take care of you. Like it's always been."

You pick up on the strain in his tone, eyes wide when you open them again. Tears threaten to spill over Chan's lower lashes, unable to hold back those emotions any longer. Your fingers are still trembling lightly when you reach up and wipe them away, mirroring the actions he's been calming you with all night. You feel the arm around your torso squeeze you once, almost a silent thank you for that comfort, even in the state you're currently in.

"You ok?" He asks.

"Not quite," You mutter, sniffling as you keep your eyes on him. "but I'm better than I was an hour ago. All thanks to you."

Chan smiles; one of those smiles that isn't much, but somehow it still reaches his eyes.

"Good, that's good." He pulls you further up, pressing his fingers into your spine. "Now how about I order us some take out and you and I sit and watch a movie? Maybe that new one that you said looks laughably terrible? Or a comfort movie? Your choice."

"Can we lay here for ten more minutes?" You ask. You've already dropped your head against his chest, eyes closed as you listen to his heart thump against sturdy muscle.

"Ten more minutes. Twenty, if you need. I'm not going anywhere." Chan's reply is soft and slow as he continues to hold you close, your tears drying as seconds turn to minutes. You melt into his warmth, pressing further against his neck. Chan mirrors you, a silent reassurance that he's here; now and always.

In Chan's arms you're both so small, so powerless as you confront the demons that have long haunted you. There's no rushing here. Healing isn't a process that can be rushed. He doesn't need you to say a word or do anything. There's nothing more to say, no. He'll just hold you with everything he has. You relax against him, breaths evening out as you feel exhaustion take over.

As your eyes close, you feel the past few months recede.

The future seems less daunting. Just as the pieces shatter, you are finally ready to begin picking them up and piece them back together. It'll get ugly; viscous and foreboding. But Chan is willing to help you with such a demanding process.

That's everything that keeps you going.

It's what keeps you alive.

If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

#stray kids #skz #bang chan #stray kids x reader #skz x you #bang chan x reader #skz x reader #bangchan x reader #skz chan #gn reader #x gender neutral reader #quokkawritings🌻#cw sui mention

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sweatervest-obsessed · 10 months

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In Your Dreams, Whatever They Be - Part 1

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (uses she/her pronouns)

WC: 11,223

TW: Alcohol, violence, stabbing, boats, spiders, sarcasm, jealousy, trauma, trauma bonding, blood (and lots of it), nightmares, Vecna, mentions of death, smoochy kisses, mentions and flashes of past traumas, Billy Hargrove gets mentioned, brief allusion to second base, graphic descriptions of violence, graphic descriptions in general. If I'm missing any please please please tell me and I will happily add them!

A/N: So this was supposed to be a quick and easy 4k one shot, and now I'm in a two parter, rewatching the series to try and make it as accurate as I can be. I forgot how himbo Steve really is. It takes place starting with s4 e5, and it goes to s4 e7 or 8, I don't remember. This is based off of my favorite song of all time, and the fact that they used it in this show makes me so unbelievable happy. I hope y'all enjoy this one! any and all constructive criticism is welcomed and wanted!!!

Part 2

“What’s going on in there?” Steve gently rapped on your head with his knuckles, “hello? Anyone home?”

He watched as your eyes shifted back into focus, looking at him.

“It’s nothing Steve.”

“Yea and I’m the queen of England.”

“No need for the attitude,” You grumbled, sitting up, attempting to get off the boys bed before

this turned into a full blown thing with interrogations and prodding in places you didn’t want Steve to see at the moment.

He softly said your name, grabbing your wrist and rubbing his thumb over it. “Will you please talk to me?”

Your eyes fluttered closed at the contact. A soft inhale and exhale to remind yourself to calm the tears before giving Steve a smile.

“I’m seriously okay Steve. If it was something that was actually worth anything, you’d be the first person I told.”

He contemplated your answer, studying the way you wouldn’t look at him. “Pinky promise?”

You looked over at the clock on his night stand before jumping up and dusting off the proverbial dirt from your thighs.

“Actually, I, um, I have to go—Steve. Um. I’ll see you later!” You quickly grabbed your bag off the ground of his bedroom floor and quickly made your escape down the stairs and out the front door.

Steve flinched as it slammed shut and sat there, pinky still outstretched wondering what the actual fuck just happened. You never ever ditched him like that, let alone ignored a pinky promise.

You, on the other hand, were suffocating. The room had suddenly become too suffocating and Steve—sweet, lovely, kind, perfect Steve immediately noticed, and you just couldn’t let him go poking where he didn't need to be.

Your headaches had started to come back, but it was nothing new considering your period was about to start anyways. And the last thing you wanted to do was make Steve all worried about some stupid little headache—

“Oh for fucks sake.” You grumbled again before turning right back around on the porch and storming back into his house again.

Steve had just made it down the stairs when he collided with you in the hall, the door slamming shut a second time.

“What are you doing—-“

“We made that stupid Fucking New Year’s resolution for a year of no poor communication. So. I’ve been having headaches.”

“…..headaches?”

You nodded and ran a hand through your hair.

“Yeah.” You whisper, now suddenly feeling a lot less confident about the situation.

Steve was silent, his mind racing a million miles an hour. Out of all the people in the world, he absolutely downright refused to let you become the next mangled body. He had seen Eddie’s face when he relieved what Chrissy had gone through, and he had seen Nancy after they had discovered Fred; for fucks sake he was there when Max was levitating in the cemetery. He couldn’t lose you. He seriously couldn’t lose you. Because he didn’t know what he’d do with himself if you weren’t with him. He’d loose his fucking mind—that’s what he would do. He’s become some crazy old man like Murray or—-

“Steve.” You took his hand in yours and narrowed your eyes. “Are you listening to me?”

Steve shook his head and squeezed your hand. “I said, I usually get them the week before my period, and they’re right on time. But with the whole….”

Steve nodded and looked at your hands together, eyeing the ring you wore on your pinky finger—a pinky promise to him that you always wear.

“But.” You yanked his hand a little bit to make him focus back up on your face. “Because of everything going on I just didn’t want you to freak the fuck out. But that’s what’s been on my mind.”

Steve let out a shaky breath. “Yeah…yeah okay I just…”

“I know.” Even when you could potentially be in true, real danger, you managed to stay level headed, or at least put up a really good front; it’s what Steve admired most about you, and simultaneously loathed about you.

“I know everyone is at the Wheeler's house but do you want to make them come over here?”

Steve squeezed your hand in response to your question, his voice still gone. Somehow snatched away with the rest of his mind from the moment he realized you could be taken from him.

“Okay, do you want me to call them?”

Steve was a very physical person. He showed his love through actions—getting an eyelash off your nose, buying your favorite flowers, and so forth. But he truly showed his appreciation for someone through small touches; a hand on a shoulder, the squeeze of a hand. But when Steve pulled you into a hug, you were a little surprised. He may love small actions of touch, he rarely was one to give hugs or full body contact, even to someone he has loved for a long time. The boy was getting more and more self conscious ever since the Fall of King Steve and the Bullshit of Nancy Wheeler.

“Steve I promise I’m okay I promise.”

“But what if it’s not just any headaches…” he whispered into your hair, tightly holding onto you, terrified to let you go.

“The second I start getting psycho visions or freaky nightmares, you’ll know okay?”

“Y-yeah.” He sighed, just holding onto you for a bit longer. You rested your head on his shoulder, forehead against his neck, and slowly started to sway with him, trying to drag his mind away from the pit he was dragging himself into.

He complied, still drowning in ‘what-if’s’. He listened as you started to softly mumble a song to yourself as the two of you stood in the foyer of the Harrington Household, sunset peaking through the windows.

“Stars shining bright above you, Night breezes seem to whisper I love you, birds singing in the sycamore tree, dream a little dream of me.”

Steve focused on the sound of your breathing, the beating of your heart, the low hum of your voice.

“Say nighty-night and kiss me, just hold me right and tell me, you’ll miss me”

“I should be comforting you.” He grumbled, as you continued to sing and sway.

“While I’m alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me.”

“What’s the name of the artist again?” He whispered

You stopped short and looked up at him, taking only half a step back knowing Steve might lose his shit if you stopped being in direct contact with him.

“Steven Harrington this is only my favorite song of all time, and you don’t know which version I like the most?! Jesus, you’d think my person would know that.”

“Okay but that doesn’t answer my question.” His heart fluttered a little bit when you called him your person.

“You’re a pain in the ass.”

Just as Steve went to sass you back, the phone rang, making him jump. Steve stared at it while you were looking at him, watching him flinch every time it rang. “You gonna answer it, or just stare at it.”

“Well….”

“Steve.”

“I’d really rather not.”

“It could be important, Stevie.”

His insides started melting as you called him that. “I really don’t want to.”

The phone stopped ringing and he smiled cheekily at you before taking your hand and bringing you out towards the patio, sliding the doors open with ease.

“What are you…”

“I want to keep dancing with you without any distractions.”

You blush a bit and shake your head.

“Okay hot shot. Show me your moves then.”

“Only if you promise to keep singing.”

The both of you stepped out onto the patio and closed the sliding doors behind you. He brought you around the pool to the small yard behind it, offering his hand once more.

“You, Steve Harrington, are something else.”

He slid his arm around your waist and took your hand in his. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” He whispered, kissing your head.

“Depends.”

“On what.”

“Stars fading but I linger on dear.”

You shrugged. And started swaying again, resting your head on his collarbone.

“Still craving your kiss.”

“Oh you crave my kiss huh?”

You rolled your eyes and continued singing, smiling up at him.

“I’m longing to linger till dawn dear, just craving this.”

Steve cheekily kissed your jaw, causing you to smile and squeeze his hand.

What the two of you missed was the consistent ringing of the Harrington Household phone, that stopped ringing after the fourth or fifth attempt.

“Sweet dreams, till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams, whatever they be, dream a little dream of me.”

Steve took the opportunity to spin you around, interrupting your singing. Your laugh was music to his ears, besides the actual singing you were blessing him with.

“Stars fading, but I linger on dear, still craving your kiss.”

Steve leaned down and kissed you softly, interrupting your song. You smiled and kissed him back, tasting your cherry chapstick on his lips.

“You stole my chapstick, I knew it.” You mumbled before swiping your tongue against his bottom lip.

“Nuh, uh.” He whispered back, moving his hand to your jaw, pulling you a little closer to him.

You were interrupted by the screaming of Steve’s name and the pounding on the front door.

The both of you jumped apart, hearts pounding. You looked at Steve while he turned and looked towards the inside of his house.

The both of you heard the strings of curses from a small army when nobody answered the door, followed by yells about where he kept the spare key, and why was it locked because it was never locked Steve let go of you, much to both of your dismays, before moving towards the slider, only to be interrupted by a “are you SERIOUS Hanginton?”

Dustin’s head had popped over the fence near the edge of the woods, scaring the shit out of both of you.

“What the hell Henderson!” You yelled, stumbling back into a chair. Your heel caught on the side, and the metal left a little gash on the top of your foot as you fell into the lounger, the definition of ungraceful. You let out a yelp as you collapsed

“Shit, Shit, are you okay??” Henderson yelled, attempting to jump over the fence, and only failing slightly.

Steve rushed over to your side, panicking since the last time there was blood near his pool, well….

You were examining the gash, taping it lightly and flinching at the sting. But then you saw Steve and immediately switched gears into calming Steve down, completely ignoring the blood dripping down your foot.

“Steve. Hey.” You put your hand on his shoulder but Steve was freaking out. His eyes were wide, and his breathing was erratic. “Handsome, look at me.” You whispered to him, taking his jaw, aware of your audience.

You loved touching Steve, and he loved touching you, in every way each other's minds could think of, but the two of you tried really hard to not be super all over each other in front of the others. It wasn’t that you were hiding your relationship per se, you both were just private people when it came to your relationship. You were both taking it slow, wanting to make sure everything was just right, earning trust and figuring out one another without the influence and nosiness of your beloved friends. They knew you had at least kissed a couple of times, and were official enough to hold hands in public, but what they didn’t know was that you had been dating each other for over a year now. In fact, you were sure this was it for you—your endgame. You felt such an all consuming love for him, and he knew it too. He was terrified of the ways you would go to bat for him, which is why the sight of your blood near his pool sent him into a slight panic attack. But your touch sent a little shock through his system and he looked up at you, eyes wide and a little manic, lips parted.

“I’m okay. We’ll just get a bandaid or tw—“

The next minute unfolded to be one of the most overwhelming both you and Steve had experienced. First, Henderson had finally scaled the fence and fell over it with a thud and a loud yell. Then, Nancy shoved open the sliding doors, which meant the rest of the kids, and Robin were probably in tow. Dusting had managed to run over to you and started to freak out about your foot, panicking outwardly like Steve was panicking inwardly.

Nancy finally made it over to the both of you, but only looked at Steve.

“Steve? What the fuck! Where the hell have you been? Y/n wasn’t answering her phone and so Max and Lucas went over to her house—“

“Nance…”

“and her mom said she was at work but she hasn’t been at work because I was just there and she didn’t take over for me and——“

“Nancy.”

You squeezed his hand.

“And then you weren’t answering your phone and we called so many ti—“

“Holy shit what the fuck happened to your foot!?” And there was Robin, kindly interrupting Nancy’s ramble.

Nancy whipped around and looked down at your now slightly blood soaked foot. It was seriously nowhere near as bad as it looked, but because you had been free bleeding trying to help Steve and then everyone burst into the backyard, your foot looked worse than it was.

“Oh my god!” She squeaked out, thinking back to Barb, and looked at Steve. She noticed his panic and decided it was her responsibility to fix it.

“Hey Steve?” Nancy knelt down next to him, which made you inhale sharply. Nancy had been….well. Ever since Jonathan had moved to California, she was a bit all over the place, and everyone knew it, including Nancy. Her emotions were running wild, and she had been eyeing Steve again. You were far from jealous, knowing how much Steve loved you since he reminded you over and over and over again. But there was something about the way she was eyeing him, the way she reached out to him, that made your trust waiver—not in Steve, Never in Steve, but maybe in Nancy.

Steve caught the tail end of your inhale, and looked up at you, his eyes still not focusing a hundred percent but he was trying for you.

“Can you go get some bandages for my foot Nance?” You asked, squeezing Steve’s hand again, trying to ground him while also trying to politely tell Nancy to back the fuck up. You looked over at her and gave her a smile, as if to say that you got the whole Steve situation under control.

She eyed your hands before nodding, and heading off into the house. As she had walked into the house and up the stairs, Robin corralled all of the kids mumbling that the show was over. Dustin put up a little bit of a fight but Max and Lucas had dragged him inside and closed the sliding doors. All of the teens did their best to pretend to not look out at the couple on the patio, whereas Robin was casually trying to not stare at the two of you through the kitchen window. Everyone was extremely curious about the secretive couple.

You squeezed his hand again. “Steve. I need you to listen to me. I’m okay. It’s just a cut on my foot.” Your other hand came up and slowly took his other hand, hinting that he should be next to you on the lounger.

Steve obliged, mind still far away, panicking to no end, conjuring up the worst endings he could possibly imagine.

You gently took one of his hands and placed it on one of the pulse points on your neck.

Robin had snatched Nancy from exiting the house, shushing her as she tried to justify going back onto the patio. And even if she managed to get through Robin, Dustin and the others would not have let her through anyways.

Robin had shared a look with Dustin, examining the scene before them. Almost no one had ever seen Steve this vulnerable, and actually no one had witnessed the two of you have such an intimate moment together, collectively making everyone in the house question whether or not they knew either of you at all.

You were taking slow breaths, letting Steve not only feel your pulse beneath his fingers, but also your breath. It caused him to slowly start to match your pace, chest moving slower and hands stopped shaking. His eyes started to focus in on you again, the hint of a grateful smile ghosted across his lips before it fell under a frown of complete self deprecation.

“Shit, baby I’m so sorry.” He whispered, not moving his hand from your neck quite yet. “I-I just…it reminded me of…”

“I know, I know.” You whispered. “But it’s just a small cut, and I’ll let you give Henderson the talking to of a lifetime, once I know you’re back with me, yeah?”

Your eyes had been monitoring his, watching for when he was fully back in the present. Steve nodded and placed a quick kiss on your forehead. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, I’m here all week.” You teased, before sighing and looking down at your foot. “It’s definitely not that bad but I do want to clean off my bloody foot.”

Just then, Nancy made her way back onto the patio, with very upset Dustin trailing behind her. Dustin looked so guilty, and so apologetic, and Nancy looked….upset? Mad? Jealous? Whatever it was, Nancy was doing a good job of making it not as important as fixing up your foot.

“Oh thank you so much Nance.” You smiled at her, only faltering slightly when she only responded by giving you a tight lipped smile, dropping the first aid kid on the chair, and walking Back inside.

You and Steve looked at Dustin who just shrugged. Whatever it was would have to wait.

“So why were you people hunting me down?”

“There’s been another….” Dustin looked down at his feet, and Steve took one of his hands and put it on the kids shoulder.

“Okay.” You breathed out, taking the medical kit in your hands and digging through it to find all the necessary things to clean up your little wound.

“ Y/N, I’m really sorry. I-I didn’t mean to—you know. It was a total accident.” Dustin gushed at you and you just smiled in response to him.

“It’s all good Dusty Bun.” You joked at him, while the kid tore himself into pieces, feeling fucking awful.

“Shit happens. It’s okay. It’s not like you snuck back here with the intent to injure me….unless.” You smirked at him, letting Dustin’s cheek turn bright red and he shook his head vigorously.

“No. No. I would never do that to you—“

“She’s joking Dustin. It’s okay.” Steve tried not to laugh at the poor boy, watching as his face fell into a slightly more comfortable expression.

“Dustin, can you go and round everyone up in the Living Room, so we can talk about everything?”

Dustin nodded and started to run off before he stopped and turned towards you again. “Promise you’re okay?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die, kid. I’m all good.” You took your finger, crossed your heart with it and lifted it in the air. “Steven Harrington as my witness.”

Dustin cracked a smile before going back inside and trying to round up everyone into the Harrington's living room.

Once you had properly bandaged your cut, you sighed and cast a quick glance at the patio doors, noticing only Max and Lucas lingering, but still giving you all the privacy they could with a glass door. But Lucas was solely focused on Max, making sure her headphones for her Walkman were sitting just right on her head.

You turned and kissed Steve, soft lips on his. “Are you okay?” You whispered to him, letting him lead the kiss, giving him the control he needed to regain in that moment before facing the troops.

Steve gently swept his tongue across your lip, allowing him to deepen the kiss a bit more. He sighed so prettily into your mouth and you couldn’t help but smile.

“I will be, yea. I just….” You nodded and pulled away from him. Steve glanced over at Max, noticing the headphones and his face fell flat. He had been the one to hold her close when she collapsed outside of Billy’s Grave after floating in the air. And suddenly it was you he was cradling, unconscious.

“What’s the artist?”

“What?” You gave him an incredulous look, turned and looking where his gaze was set on Max. “Oh Steve, I don’t think—-“

“Please.” It was so soft, and pleading. Your heart broke as he looked back at you.

“The Mamas and The Papas.” You said softly, tucking a loose strand of his hair behind his ear.

“Dream a Little Dream of Me, right?” He squeezed your hand once more as you nodded.

“Alright.” He sighed and kissed your head before getting up. The two of you could rest when you’re dead, you figured. You stood up with him and brought the first aid kit back in with you.

Once everyone was back in the living room, the rest of the day was a whirlwind. Lucas was telling you about the fact that Carver and his teammates were hunting down Eddie and anyone who tried to help him.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

At some point you found yourself stuck in the back of Nancy’s car. Then, you found yourself stuck in between an argument between a mother and his son about Skull Rock.

“Yeah well it wasn’t popular until I made it popular, alright?”

You snorted at that one, while Steve turned towards you, slightly horrified about admitting that in front of you. But you knew King Steve, and it wasn’t like you were unpopular. You were one of those people that managed to fly under the radar by being on everyone’s radar. Nice to everyone simply worked best, especially when it meant you got to kiss and tell without it ruining your life. You smirked at Steve before turning to Dustin.

“But he’s right though Dustin. It’s over that little hill, on the right, past the two trees.” You slowed down to break the news to Dustin, Max moving to catch up with you, both of you snickering to one another while the rest of the gang looked at you, seriously doubting their knowledge of you at all.

“Stop gawking Harrington, and move those legs. Let’s roll.” Steve fixed his pace and trudged ahead, eager to prove his best friend wrong.

You and Max just observed the two. You had been Max’s babysitter since she moved to Hawkins. She was definitely too old for one, but her mother insisted, and she would have much rather spent time with you than with Billy. She was your little sister, your everything, the Dustin to your Steve. You were the one who got her so addicted to Kate Bush in the first place. So when Steve had told you about Max floating into the air, you almost caused several accidents driving from your house to the Wheeler’s, where Max was being kept safe.

The two of you were giggling about the bickering between the two idiots when you heard Steve and Dustin ahead of you.

“Bada Bing, Bada Boom, There she is Henderson. Skull Rock, in your face man.” Steve pushed past the both of you, a shit-eating grin on his face. “In your stupid, cocky little face.”

“It doesn’t make sense.”

“Yeah, Yeah, even when it’s staring you right in the face, you can’t admit it. You just can’t admit that you’re wrong, you little butthead.” Steve smugly stared up at the rock.

Two boots landed on the ground, right next to Dustin. “I concur. You, Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead.”

Dustin started jumping up and down before rushing Eddie into a hug. “Jesus, we thought you were a goner.”

“Yeah, me too man.” Eddie mumbled, looking over at the rest of you wearily. You watched as Steve and Eddie interacted like some sort of divorced parents in the parking lot of a McDonald’s before deciding to ease whatever tension the two of them had going on.

You smiled and waved at him, “Oh my god, is that the serial killer Edward Eddie “The Freak” Munson, leader of the Hellfire Satanic Club,”

Max let out a snort, before trying to cover the giggle seeping out of her mouth.

“You’re funny there princess, you know that?”

“Oh I do, Edward. How are you.” You mumbled, patting his back, while you eyed Dustin, who was losing his fucking mind over his compass.

Steve was not the jealous type, or he liked to pretend that he wasn’t. You were a kind person to every single person you met; somehow every single person in the world knew you, and yet nobody had a vendetta against you (to his knowledge) or anything awful to say about you. But it was moments like these, when Eddie called you Princess, or got a little too close, where he would start to tense up.

“Better now that you’ve brought yourself, and also some food.” He hastily grabbed one of the paper bags from Nancy and grabbed one of the flasks filled with water, drinking almost all of it.

“When I got to shore, I tried calling you guys but uh, my walkie was busted, man. Drenched. So uh, I did the thing that I do now, apparently. I ran.” A sardonic smile spread across his face, and he shook his head, looking down at his hands.

“Do you know what time this was, the attack?”

“No i -i- I know exactly what time it was.” Eddie takes the watch off his wrist and tosses it to Nancy. “My walkie wasn’t the only thing to get soaked.”

“9:27.”

Robin’s eyes lit up. “Same time our flashlights went kablooey.

“Which means what exactly?” Steve chimed in.

Nancy sighed, looking down at the watch in her hands before tossing it back to Eddie. “That surge of energy was Vecna attacking Patrick.”

“Well, we’re one step closer–we know how Vecna attacks.” You mention, watching Dustin pace back and forth.

“And where he attacks from.” Lucas added on.

“So now we just need to sneak into his layer in the Upside Down and drive a stake through his heart.” Max sighed, crossing her arms.

Robin mumbled quickly, “If he even has a heart.”

“A stake is he like a vamp–is he a vampire?” Steve’s eyes widened.

“Oh Steve, babe.” You sighed, pinching your eyes.

“Itt was a metaphor.” Max scoffed in reply to him.

Eddie looked up from the ground and towards Max. “Uh bullets work on him right?”

“I say we chop his head off.”

“That’s great Lucas.” You muttered, not fully believing this conversation was happening. Steve on the other hand looked at Lucas with a “What the fuck” type of look.

“Yeah I’d say all of the above, but we can't do any of that until we find a way into the Upside Down.” Nancy sighed.

“We need El to get her power back.” You nodded in agreement with Max.

“Everything was wayyyy easier. We had this girl, she had super powers–”

“Superpowers, yea, you mentioned her.” Eddie cut off Steve with a nod before peering over at Henderson.

“Hey uh, Henderson’s not cursed is he?”

Steve shook his head. “Cursed, no no, he’s fine. Mental? Absolutely.”

Just then Dustin raised his arms to the sky, turned to Steve and Screamed the word Boom, at the top of his lungs. Everyone flinched at the loud sound, but your head had started to bug you the second you had found SKull Rock, and you weren't one to say anything, but Dustin screaming at the top of his lungs definitely wasn’t helping.

“Bada. Bada. Boom.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

And just like that, the day sped up again. Your head continued to bug you all the way to the lake. He had noticed that your head started bugging you halfway through the walk to the shore, holding you hand and quietly whispering the lyrics he remembered from the song earlier, just to you. It made your heart melt a little, just how much he cared for you. It was a bonus that it calmed him down in the process.

“What is Mordor?” He whispered to you, watching as the shore grew closer.

You laughed softly and shrugged. “There's this book series called Lord of the Rings.” You answered back to him. “And the heroes leave The Shire to go to Mordor to stop the big bad.”

Steve let out a little “huh”, and nodded. The little green monster known as jealousy came back full force. Of course you would know what Eddie was talking about. Of course that was something else Eddie had over him. “And you’ve uh, read this series.”

“Yes Steve. All four books.”

“Did you like them?”

The questions surprised you. It’s not that Steve didn’t like the things you liked, or didn’t care about what you liked, but this was an interest that you simply hadn’t mentioned because it didn’t seem in his wheelhouse. “Ye-Yeah…why do you ask?”

You looked at him with a curious smile on your face, and Steve shrugged. “I don’t know. If both you and Butthead up there like it then…”

You stopped and kissed Steve on the cheek. “You’re adorable Steve.”

Just then, Dustin sprinted forward, yelling about the fact that something was happening. Eddie managed to save him from stepping into the lake, when Steve ran up ahead.

“You gotta be shittin’ me.” He huffed and turned and looked back at you, exasperated.

“Yea. I thought these woods were familiar.” Eddie’s tone was flat, and disparaging.

“Lover’s Lake.” Robin sighed, staring out at the water.

“This is confounding.” Dustin muttered, looking back and forth from the water to his compass and back again.

“There’s a gate in Lover’s Lake?” Max looked over at you.

Nancy spoke next, “Whenever the Demogorgan attacked, it always left an opening. Maybe Vecna’s the same way.”

“Yea, only one way to find out.” You grumbled, also not exactly happy to see the lake.

Eddie pulled back a tarp to reveal a little boat, definitely not big enough to fit all of you. Once Eddie and Steve had gotten the boat in the water, Robin climbed over the two of them. Eddie went next and helped Nancy get into the boat as well as you. All four of you looked at Dustin, who tried to get onto the boat.

“Hey, Hey, you trying to sink us?” Eddie shoved Dustin's head back a little and shook his own. “The boat holds four people, tops. okay?”

“It’s better this way, okay?” Nancy walked over to try and comfort Dustin.

And you agreed. “You guys stay here with Max.You keep an eye out for trouble.”

Dustin was flabbergasted. “You keep an eye out for trouble.”

You gave him a look considering he just snapped at you, but he only continued.

“It’s my goddamn theory.”

Robin leaned over. “You heard Nance and Y/N.”

Dustin just rolled his eyes. “Who put them in charge?”

“I did.” Robin sassed back, watching as Dustin tried to process everything that was going on.

“Compass.” Nancy held her hand out as a very, very upset Dustin reluctantly placed the compass in her hand.

“Hey. There ya go.” Steve threw the backpack at Dustin before pushing off of the shore with the boat, jumping in at the last second.

“You said Four!”

Steve whispered a “sorry” to him as the group began to paddle out towards where Patrick died.

Robin smiled at them, “Bedtime at nine Kiddos.” in which Dustin just flipped her off. Robin just stood up and waved, “Miss you already.”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

As you all sat on the boat,slowly paddling through the darkness of Lover’s Lake, when suddenly Nancy yelled out. “Woah Woah Woah, slow down guys, slow down.”

All of you leaned in and looked at the compass, it was spinning in circles, no actual direction.

All of the sudden the walkie lit up and spoke: Guys what’s going on. Come on guys, talk to me, what’s going on.

Robin picked up the call, still staring at the spinning dial.

“Uh Dustin your compass has gone from wonky to Wonky with a capital ‘aah!”

“Steve, what are you doing?” Nancy’s voice reached your ears, and everyone immediately snapped their heads towards the boy who was starting to undress.

“Somebody’s gotta go down there and check this thing out.” He pulled off his other shoe and sock. “Unless one of you three can top being a Hawkins High swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years then…It’s gotta be me, no complaints. Alright.” That last section ws slightly more aimed towards you than anyone else, but you just stayed silent.

“Hey, I’m not complaining. I do not wanna go down there.” Eddie looked around at the water uneasily before taking one of the flashlights wrapping it in one of the plastic bags they had brought. It was better than nothing.

Steve pulled his shirt off, and that’s when you caught Nancy staring. This time, you were a little more upset at her openly staring at Steve’s half-naked body. Robin looked between you and Nancy and made a little face, deciding to wait to ask any and all questions to you once Steve was gone.

“Hey.” Eddie handed him the flashlight. “Good luck.”

Steve nodded. “Thanks.” Before looking at you and giving you a small smile, meant to be an apology.

Robin pulled a cigarette from out of Eddie's mouth, mumbled a “gross”, and chucked it into Lover’s Lake.

Steve stared straight ahead psyching himself up.

“Steve?” You couldn’t help yourself.

He looked back at you. You had a horrible feeling about this. Yet you held your tongue because there was no way that Steve “The Hero” Harrington was going to risk anyone else’s life, and trying to talk him out of it was like trying to convince the sky to turn purple—it wasn’t going to happen. All you could offer him was something to maybe calm his nerves.

“Be careful.”

You all sat there, each of you doing your own thing to not think about the fact that Steve was under the water.

“Where are we at Wheeler?” Robin asked, bouncing her leg up and down, glancing from Nancy to the water and back again.

“We’re closing in on a minute.” Nancy responded with a slight air of worry.

“Come on Steve.” You mumbled, still watching the water. Robin placed a hand on top of yours and gave you a small smile, just trying to provide at least a sense of comfort even though her best friend was down in the depths of Lover’s Lake.

When Steve popped up, you all jumped. Eddie yelled slightly with an “Oh Christ!” But you immediately reached your hand out to him, which he was more than willing to reach for.

“I found it.”

“You found it?” Nancy piped up before Steve smiled, trying to regain his breath.

“I found it. Yeah I found it.” He smiled, and unlike the rest of this day, the next thirty seconds seemed to go by in slow motion.

Steve was hanging off the edge of the boat, still trying to regain his breath before he would climb into the boat, still holding onto your hand with his own.

“Dustin, you’re a goddamn Einstein. Steve found the Gate. It was right where you said it was.”

Steve was panting. “It was pretty wild. It’s more of a snack-sized gate than a mama gate.” Reference Robin from earlier. “But still, it’s pretty damn big.”

Steve’s head was pulled under the water. All of you moved towards him, trying to get him onto the boat. He resurfaced, a concerned look on his face.

Just as he reached for you, Steve’s face dropped, and he was pulled under. Nance, Robs, and Eddie all yelled out his name, screaming for him to come back. You immediately pulled off the jacket you had been wearing and dove straight into the water, no hesitation. Nancy, Robin, and Eddie then started screaming your name. Your new white converse had been covered in mud and now they were soaked in murky water as you swam for your life to get to Steve. You watched as he was pulled into the gaping portal beneath you. You watched as he was dragged through the water with ease. You swam faster, pushing through the gate not even ten seconds after Steve.

Your lungs were burning. You fell to the ground with a hard thud, groaning as you tried to ignore the large bruise that would be all along your thigh and shoulder. All of this while trying so desperately to breathe but the air was suffocating. You managed to stand up, and looked around for Steve. Red lightning struck above you both, maybe five hundred feet apart.

That’s when you heard it, the screeching. Your eyes managed to locate Steve before they were moved to the sky as the creatures started to surround the both of you. You watched as he ran towards something on the ground and picked up an oar, hitting one of the bats that swooped down on him. You ran towards him, picking up a second oar, and started batting, fighting your way to each other.

Then, you saw Steve get swiped off his feet. A bat around his neck, and two others circling, ready to go in for the kill. Steve kept trying to swipe them off but was starting to fail. He let out a blood curdling scream as his body convulsed on the ground beneath your feet.

Your blood ran colder than Lovers Lake. You ran towards him, listening as he screamed your name, crying out helplessly for you as they tried to feast on his abdomen and while one was slowly strangling him.

Anger and panic filled your body up to the brim as you came closer to him. You hit two home runs before you slammed the oar down on one of the bats, eating away at Steve’s stomach, and blood splattered up and across your entire body. You’d be pissed about your clothes if you weren’t already so enraged at the thought of the pain Steve was in. There was blood scattered across your face, and you could taste it on your lips. Dustin might have called you badass if you weren’t so fucking terrifying.

You didn’t notice as Nancy, Robin, and Eddie barged through the portal, and immediately started beating the shit out of all of the remaining bats that tried swooping down on the group of you.

Instead, you continued bashing in the body of the bat next to Steve. Robin had started watching you, slightly scared of the force you used to bring the oar down onto the bat. But all you could see was Steve. His mouth was open but no sound was coming out as he struggled to breathe, trying to pull the bat's tail away from his neck. You gave it one final blow to the head and watched its body give out beneath you.

Just as you went to thwack the head of the bat suffocating Steve, something wrapped around your ankle. You dropped to the ground as the bat swiftly pulled you down, bloody oar out of your grasp.

Robin and Nancy were to take care of the bat that was strangling Steve, Eddie continuing to swing at any bats in the air he could.

“Nancy behind you!” She turned around and thwacked the bat that came at her before she delivered one final blow, releasing Steve’s throat as it went limp.

A blood curdling scream left your lips as one of the bat’s bit down into your thigh. All you could see was white and red and all you could feel was white hot pain. The teeth tore through your flesh like butter, and it might have had some sort of venom dripping from its teeth because the exposed flesh felt as if it was melting off your body.

Steve had managed to rip the bat off of him, and tore it in half with his mouth, willing to tear the bat limb from limb, but then he heard you scream. Steve always assumed he would freeze because in his nightmares he would watch as the dogs tore you limb from limb, or as a demogorgon dragged you into the depths of the upside down, and he would freeze watching as he let you die.

But not this time.

His body raced towards you, ignoring the sharp rocks and fuck else that would stick into his bare feet. The adrenaline in his body caused him to pick up the oar you were dragged away from and bash the head in on the bat digging its teeth into your thigh. You were screaming, you were screaming for Steve. His mind clouded with rage as he broke the oar in half and stabbed down, impaling the bat and leaving it stuck to the ground of lovers lake.

There were tears streaming down your face, as Eddie and Robin helped pull you up and away from the dead animal laying next to you. A sob escaped your lips as you put some weight on your right leg.

“Jesus Christ, Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie screamed at the sky, still trying to hold you up.

Steve’s breathing was labored as he stood above the bat’s bloody carcass. He heard another sob escape your lips and immediately snapped his head towards you, but just as he took a second step towards you, the screeching of bats over head caused all of you to look up at the sky.

“Shit shit shit.” Eddie muttered, looking around trying to find a spot for cover.

“There’s not that many, we can take them.” Steve huffed, still running purely on adrenaline and spite.

Another bellow of screeches came from the sky across the barren lake.

Nancy ran over to you and gently squeezed your shoulder, luckily the one that wasn’t bruised. “We need to find cover. Now. Can you make it if Eddie and Robin help you?” Her eyes search yours, simultaneously checking for your inevitable concussion based off of the way you dropped to the ground earlier.

You just whispered out Steve’s name, eyes starting to close.

“Hey. Y/N. Look at me. He’s okay. He’s alive okay? I need you to stay with me for just five more minutes, okay?” Nancy was starting to freak out the more you drifted in and out of consciousness. She turned to look at Steve, who was shutting down on his own, his own adrenaline starting to wear off.

“Eddie, Do you have Y/N?“ Nancy practically shoved Robin towards him while wrapping your arm around his neck while he supported you. “The more people that help her the better.”

Steve had reached out to help but Nancy shook her head, “ I need you to focus on finding us Skull Rock, and not collapse while holding her. Got it?”

Steve stared at Eddie, his frame supporting you, and huffed before nodding.

Once everyone had secured their position, you all quickly made their way towards Skull Rock, well as quickly as you could possibly be. Eddie spent the whole time whispering how proud he was of you and how badass you looked and how good you were doing while walking, all of the encouragement and little jokes you needed to stay awake and push through the pain to get to get under the rock. While Robin was freaking out about Rabies, which was so extremely helpful of her, thank you robin!

Once you had all taken cover from the bats, you leaned against the wall, just trying to breathe again. That’s when Steve started to lean on the wall, and eventually collapsed to the ground.

“Steve?” Nancy immediately stood up and made it to him in record time.

You would have turned bright green if you weren’t starting to pass out on your own.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” He grumbled, slowly sliding down to the ground.

“No no no, you’re losing blood. Shit.” Nancy had ripped her skirt to provide some bandages for Steve.

“Steve?” You mumbled before, your legs gave out, Eddie managing to catch you.

“Shit Shit shit.” He started panicking and looking at Robin, who in turn started panicking again.

“Nancy!” Robin yelped, kneeling down next to you trying to keep you awake.

Nancy took one look at you and turned back around to Steve who was trying to get up and reach for you. “Steve, I need you to stay still.” She turned back to Eddie and Robin. “You need to rip her jeans!”

“No no no, hey. Stay with me. I need you to stay awake Y/N.” Robin whispered, squeezing your hand. All she could think about was dying by animal bite, which was so not comforting for any one involved.

Steve gasped as Nance tightened the bandage. Once it was secured he scrambled over to you.

“This is going to hurt baby, I’ m so sorry.” He mumbled to you, before gently taking the places where the Bats had broken through and ripped the jeans, creating one short leg. He pulled the bloodied pant leg down, trying to avoid the gushing wound on your leg. As quickly as he could, he tore up your jeans and started using it to wrap up your thigh, causing you to moan in pain anytime he would come near it, which resulted in a string of sorry’s coming from him.

You managed to take a look at Steve, covered in makeshift bandages and Eddie’s vest. If this were any other time, you’d make a quip to only him about how hot he looked but instead all you could do was slur his name and keep your head tilted back against the rock, doing your best not to pass out from the pain.

“Shhhhh baby it’s okay.” He whispered, as you whined again when he tightened the bandages.

All you could do was whimper and lean your forehead against the rock. At least it was cool to the touch, providing some relief for you. Your breathing was becoming more and more labored as the minute passed, and all Steve could do was whisper to you as it happened.

“I cant…” you mumbled to him, the first coherent words besides his name that you uttered since the boat. “I’m so tired.”

Steve shook his head. He finished tying the bandage before placing one of your hands on his pulse point, and his hand on your own, refusing to let this happen.

“Fuck. No no no. Y/N hey. I need you to stay awake, pretty girl. Come on.” His voice quickened and his eyes quickly flitted to Eddie and Nancy and Robin.

“We have to. We have to go. Now. She can’t.” Steve was trying so hard not to cry, and was barely making it through a full thought before the next one came. “Fuck. How are we.”

“Steve, I don’t know if she–”

Nancy had never been scared of Steve before, but the look he sent her made it clear that whatever thought she had should not be said out loud.

“We need. To find. A way out.” He said through gritted teeth, listening to your breathing get slower than he’d like.

You hear him call your name once, and then twice, and then the next four hours of your life are all a blur.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You awake on Nancy Wheeler's couch in the Upside Down, while Steve is screaming into the abyss at Dustin.

Your head is pounding and you groggily go to sit up, but immediately get hit with a wave of nausea. As soon as you do make it up you keel over and start coughing, dry heaving really.

All four heads snapped in your direction, and Steve dropped the Lite Brite on the table, rushing over just as you start to feel the bile in your throat.

Steve quickly dragged over one of the stupid little trash bins that Mrs Wheeler kept around the house that the Upside Down had magically decided was necessary, and placed it in front of your face before grabbing most of your hair.

His efficiency was appreciated since you started to vomit into the trash, your head pounding and your throat burning.

Once you had thrown up everything in your stomach, plus what felt like your actual stomach, you gagged a bit on the air in your throat.

Steve was rubbing your back and mumbling soft words while you were still hunched over.

“Morning Princess.” Eddie called from the dining room, and while you didn’t have the energy to give him some choice words, you did have enough energy to flip him off quickly.

Steve shot him a look but Eddie only let out a chuckle at your antics. Clearly the brink of death suited you well since your sense of humor and your attitude were still intact.

“Why were you yelling at a lamp?” You eventually managed out, voice hoarse and almost completely gone. Robin had come over with a water bottle they had found in the fridge of the neighbors house.

“I thought you were gonna die.” She whispered to you, in which Steve turned his glare towards her instead.

You gratefully took a sip of the water, swallowing it before it immediately was rejected by your stomach, which causes you to vomit it back up into the trash bin.

You winced at the sting on your throat, and Steve winced because that wasn’t a good sign.

“Thanks Rob.” You send her a quick, but soft smile. She quickly took your hand and squeezed it, knowing that was all she was going to be able to say without starting to cry. “If you….well. I think I would’ve had to kill Steve because he would've been so unbearable.”

Which causes you to giggle slightly and nod. “I can see that happening.”

“Guys!” Nancy yelled over, giving you a very relieved smile, “we’re heading to Eddie’s Van in ten. There's still the kids' bikes at the house still so we can take those.”

Steve stood up and had a lot to protest but you just pulled his hand, causing him to look at you. “Steve. Really, I’ll be okay. We just need to get out of here.”

The others dispersed, getting ready to leave, letting you and Steve have a moment to yourselves.

Steve sat back down next to you and kissed your hand. “I—, you looked so hot beating the shit out of that bat.” He joked, causing you to muse a smile at him. “I know right. Sexiest murderer around.” You jested back.

“You….” Steve swallowed down the lump in his throat and let you see the tears building up in his eyes. “I—“

“But I’m all good. I promise. My head still kind of hurts though. Guess we’ll have to play period, concussion, or Vecna.” You tried to joke, but Steve just sent you a glare.

You sighed, and what you did next was for mostly your benefit, partially for Steve’s benefit, and slightly to piss off Nancy who was pretending like she wasn't watching you both from her kitchen alongside the other two.

You kissed Steve. It was simple, and quick, but mostly it was reassuring.

He hummed slightly before letting you pull away. “Even after you ripped a bat to shreds with your mouth, you still taste like my fucking chapstick.” You laughed softly before looking down at your legs. You were no longer in your jeans, but in a pair of Nancy’s shorts. Your leg had been bandaged a lot better, but you knew the second you got back into the real world, you would need to get the disinfection of a lifetime.

“Does Nance have any alcohol?”

Steve gave you a look. “I don’t think now is the time to start drinkin–”

Much to Steve’s chagrin, you stood up. A groan left your lips as you put weight on your bed leg. “Hey Nance? Where does your dad keep the good stuff.”

She looked up at you before running off to go get exactly what you needed.

“It’s going to numb the pain Steve, and I love you, but right now, I need to not feel my thigh so I can ride a stupid bike over to Eddie’s stupid van.”

Steve shook his head and stood up. “Look, Y/n,” he sighed. “I really don’t want to fight but–”

“Then don’t, Steve. This is not your call to make right now. Just. I need you to trust me okay?”

Steve huffed. “Fine.” before he walked off into a different room.

Nancy slowly came in with a bottle of scotch from her father’s liquor cabinet. “Hey…”

“Shit, Nance. I’m sorry you had to hear that.” you mumbled, sitting back down on the couch.

She shook her head and sat down next to you, uncorking the bottle and handing it over. “How…How long have you guys been together?”

You took the bottle, and took a swig, letting the liquid burn your throat. “God this is awful.” You coughed and laughed a bit with Nancy as she cracked a smile. You offered her the bottle and she gladly took a swig.

“I would also like to know.” Robin piped up, moving and sitting on the floor in front of the both of you. Once Nancy took a swig, she handed it to Robin.

“Oh, fuck. It’s uh…What is it, March?” The girls nodded and you sighed. “A year, give your take.”

Both of their jaws dropped. “I’m sorry what!” Robin’s eyes were wide open. “Since when!”

“Since like February of 85 Rob, get it together.” You took the bottle from her and took another swig.

“Holy shit.” Nancy mumbled, realizing she needed to reevaluate her entire life at this point. “Why didn’t you tell anybody?”

“Well, we had just started dating, right, and we wanted to take it slow really try not to fuck it up, ya know?” You took another swig before handing it back to Robin. “And we were gonna tell everyone but then Starcourt happened and uh. Getting the shit beat out of you by Russian thugs, and being forced into taking a truth telling serum really makes for complicated relationship updates to your friends. And Steve had just graduated and was really trying to figure his shit out—I don't know. Honestly, it never came up, nobody asked.”

Robin took a swig and shoved the bottle into Nancy’s hands. “Well I thought he was just pining after his best friend, who is waayyyyyy out of his league if I’m being so honest right now.”

“Thanks Rob.” Steve mused from the doorway, leaning against the side of it while Eddie just stood there, arms crossed.

“You guys started partying without us I see.” Munson interjected, with a smile on his face.

Robin turned bright red before shaking her head. “Steve I—”

“Don’t apologize. I mean she is quite literally so out of my league, it’s a miracle she even likes me, let alone loves me.”

You sent him a wink, while Eddie and Robin passed a look between the two of them. Nancy just took a slightly longer swig of the alcohol.

“We need to get going.” Nancy mumbled, standing up and walking into the kitchen.

“Is she okay….” Steve whispered to you, coming and offering you his hand to help you stand up.

You shook your head. “She’s been going through a lot lately, and I think she’s trying to figure out all of her feelings. She’ll be okay.”

He kissed your head before looking at the others in the room. "Let's get going then, shall we?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your head was throbbing. It felt like it was split open. One moment you're standing with Steve, watching Nancy climb up the rope, the next you're falling through the air. With a sudden thud, you land on the ground, and scream out in pain. Your leg was so fucking sore, and your whole body ached as you stood up.

You look around and realize you're back in the parking lot where the mall was. You see something laying on the ground further away, watching as the vines around you pulsed. Slowly you took step forward and then another before you left out a gasp. There was Billy, lying just how you remembered him, on the ground. His body was covered in vines and a slug slowly started to crawl out of his mouth. You stumbled away from him, trying not to sob, looking around for anything.

Do you remember what you did, y/n?

You look up towards the sky, trying to find where the voice was coming from. Flashes of your last moments next to Billy as he died in your arms while Max watched.

Or have you already forgotten.

Flashes of Steve’s lips on yours, Max floating in the cemetery.

When I kill someone...

Another of Max sobbing into your chest, Billy's screams in your ear, Steve’s hands on your body.

I never forget.

The Mind Flayer stabbed through Billy’s chest. Blood poured out of his mouth as he looked at you.

Suddenly vines started to over take the parking lot, from all sides. You spun around, panicking, trying to find a way out. You ran past a few cars, ignoring the shocks of pain through your system. Once you had run far enough away, you realized that it was no longer the parking lot of Starcourt.

You were suddenly standing on the staircase of the dilapidated old Creel House. A clock ticks, floating by you, as you slowly start to descend, eyes frantically moving back and forth. Your chest was starting to close up.

I see you've been looking for me Y/N. You were so close. So close to the truth. How was old, blind, dumb Victor.

You reached the bottom of the stairs, and spun around slowly, still trying to locate wherever he was.

Did he miss me? I've been meaning to check back in, but I've been busy.

You look to your right, and there's Chrissy's mangled body, vines clutching it. Her jaw was wide open, her eyes were gone, and you could see the snapped bones.

So very busy.

You watched as a door formed in front of you, the Creel House, except it was brand new. You watched as the little girl walked by you, claiming the house was a fairytale.

You stared at the gaunt little boy in the corner of the foyer, eyes dark.

He watched you back, and your whole body shivered. You slowly followed him through the house, watching as he made his way to the bathroom, and took off the grate. You turned away once you realized what he had been holding in his hand, unable to face something you so grotesquely hate.

Suddenly a boy went past you, and you followed him into the attic. He had created this sort of altar, filled with candles and little jars filled with Black Widows. He was just a child.

You wandered down the stairs, and watched the boy watch the clock in his foyer. The ticking of the clock rang in your ears, and all you could do was stare at this boy. The anger festered and festered and festered.

A shrill scream caught your attention as you turned around, suddenly in the yard, watching as the young boy caught and tortured a bunny. Its screams rang out as he reached out, not touching the animal, and slowly started to destroy it. Your chest was heaving as you ran back into the house, slamming the door closed, not wanting to see another moment.

You watched as a crib, covered in fire, rocked itself in the fireplace, infants screaming all round you. The fire lit uo Henry’s face, eyes closed, moving back and forth underneath his lids.

Suddenly, as you turned around, you heard music. Ella Fitzgerald’s voice rang through the halls.

Stars shining bright above you.

You let out a strangled sob. This was your favorite song. The family sitting at the table was formally dressed up. It must have been a special occasion for all of them to have looked so cleaned up for a family dinner. The Radio started moving between stations even though no one was touching it, but Henry was looking at it.

The lights started to flicker. The radio couldn’t hold down a station. Everyone was suddenly on high alert, trying to figure out what was happening. Your voice was stuck in your throat as you watched the mother float up into the sky, her bones shattering and splintering as her eyes bled. She landed on the table with a thud, causing you to jump back. Vecna has a sliver of blood draining from his nose. You watched as he murdered his sister, and then moved onto his father. Lights flickering. Radio shattering. But then he collapsed on the ground. His father was quickly arrested and blamed for the murders of his wife and daughter.

You watched as this boy was subjected to the tortures of Dr. Martin Brenner. You watched as he was tattooed, branded, with the mark of 001.

“See? Not so bad. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Doctor Brenner said, looking at 001. “Is there Y/N.” His head turned towards you and you took a step back.

Why Don’t you take a seat.

And you ran, You sprinted as quickly as you could to get away fromBrenner, from Vecna. The hallways were filled with the dead bodies of guards, the screams of the children held hostage, the lights flickering. It was carnage. The blood smeared against the walls caused you to just freeze. You tried to run the other way. You tried to run as far as you could.

Steve was screaming in your face. He had both of his hands cupping your cheeks begging you to come back to him, to stay with him. His heart was racing. All he could see were your eyes, rolled back into your head, your body just unresponsive. It was his worst nightmare come true. He screamed at the others to hurry up, just shaking you and begging you to come back to him.

“Please Y/N, fuck. Please, stay with me. Come back to me. I can’t–you need to come back.”

Erica had run into the other room trying to help the rest of the team speed through all of Eddie’s tapes. “Steve says you need to hurry!”

“Yeah no shit!” Yelled back Dustin, while Max screamed that they couldn't find anything useful.

“Seriously what is all this shit.” Robin was just throwing tapes, trying to find the right one.

“What are you even looking for!?” Eddie yelled back.

“Madonna, Blondie, Bowie, Beatles. Music We need MUSIC.” She yelled at him.

“This IS MUSIC!” Eddie screeched back.

You were running as fast as you could through the damp hallways. The walls were never ending and they were painted in blood, so much blood. You had to maneuver around bodies, all the while looking behind you, trying to out run Vacna. Your eyes were stinging from the air of the Upside Down, and your lungs couldn’t keep up. The exit had been nailed shut, covered in boards. Your panic was setting in as you looked around, trying to find any answer. You kicked and pulled at the boards until one came loose. As you got your hands around the second one, a voice came from behind you.

Y/N.

You slowly turned around, shaking. There he was. Vecna was slowly stalking towards you, like a predator watching its prey.

What are you doing? It’s not time for you to leave.

You clutched the door handle, praying to whoever out there that would listen to help you. You keep yanking on the wooden plank. Another one came off as you started to yell. The third one was looser but refused to budge. He kept coming closer to you.

Now that you’ve seen where I’ve been.

And closer.

I would like very much to show you where I am going.

And closer.

You managed to get the final one off before you shoved through the doors, using all of the will power you had left. But suddenly you were no longer in the hallway, it was the same room you had just been looking into.

Dr. Brenner stared at you, eyeless. “Take a seat y/n.”

The lights flickered out, and all you could hear was your breath, terrified to even move.

When the light’s came on, you realized you were strapped to the table. The straps were pulled so tightly, you were starting to lose feelings in your fingers. You struggled against them, unable to be freed. Vines had wrapped around your legs, chittering away as you started to cry, thrashing around, trying to get out of the chair. They were slowly coming up your arms, getting tighter and tighter. You couldn’t move. Vecna was across from you, stalking towards you once more. You couldn’t get out, you couldn’t move. You couldn’t–You couldn’t even think straight. He kept coming closer, and closer and closer. You tensed up, letting out a whimper as he slowly leaned in.

I want you to tell Eleven. I want you to tell her everything you see.

His claw came up over your face and flashes of lights filled your minds. Steve dead in your arms. The town cracking and being swallowed whole. The clock tolled. Your friends screaming your name as Vacna took them one by one. Splits in the earth throughout everything you knew and loved. You screamed out, struggling against him. Another clock chime. More death. More Destruction.

Tell Her.

“No!” You screamed back at him, tears streaming down your face as you continued to struggle. Max dead in your arms. Lucas laying on the floor in front of you. Robin tore to pieces. Cracks in the earth. The clock tolls again. Vines covering your home.

Tell Her Everything.

You scream at the top of your lungs as his claw presses against your face.

You inhale and suddenly stumble back away from Steve’s grasp, tears start to stream down your face, as you collapse to the ground. Steve immediately catches you.

“Woah woah woah. It’s okay. It’s okay.” He cradles you against his chest, as you struggle to breathe, panting and sobbing. “I’ve got you. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m right here.”

You stare up into Steve’s eyes, paralyzed, and for the first time, Steve doesn’t know what to do.

#x reader #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #Steve Harrington x reader fluff #Steve Harrington x reader angst #Steve Harrington oneshot #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanart #steve harrington fandom #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Spotify

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mywebfoot · 4 months

Text

In Every Winter Night, Part 3. (Marry My Husband fanfic)

Author's note: Don't read this in the office. Be strong. Just like Ji Hyuk has to be strong.

—

Ji Hyuk

“I didn’t wear a bra today.”

Ji Hyuk gulped. His eyes darted around his office wildly, then to her empty seat at her desk, then back to the text on his phone. This week’s physical intimacy agreement was for the chest… ‘area’, without being too specific about it. He just hadn’t expected her to take it quite so seriously today. It was still Friday, and only 9 a.m. at that.

They’d only just waved each other goodbye a moment ago, at the usual drop off corner. He remembered her wearing a coat, and beneath that a black suit jacket with a matching pencil skirt. Which had already given him ideas, since the skirt was tight to her knees and made her swaying hips far more pronounced. Under that suit jacket was a… he struggled a bit as he wasn’t in the habit of documenting his girlfriend’s clothes. Oh yes, it was a white, collared shirt of some soft material. The collar had two long ribbons trailing down the front.

“Wait. Did you not wear a bra at all, or did you just —?, he typed, before hurriedly deleting it. Maybe he misunderstood. She had seemed fully clothed this winter morning. He went for the safe route.

“Um… what do you mean? Exactly.”

Three dots hopped mischievously on his screen. Then stopped. Then started again. Then nothing.

He wanted to throw the phone at the wall, but that might mean he couldn’t get an answer. He looked up to check, and no, she definitely wasn’t at her desk.

He grabbed the phone again and started typing again, “Be preci—” before a knock rapped smartly at the door. He fumbled and dropped the phone, and it hit the carpet under his desk with a soft thump. He glanced once at the texting screen, once at the door, and clearing his throat, growled “Enter!”.

Manager Park’s face peeked in. She looked wary at his growl, and he could tell the older lady was confused.

“Director-nim, may I talk to you about the fusion food campaign please?”

Ji Hyuk nodded tersely. While Manager Park came in, and prepared to sit, he took the chance to glance at his phone on the ground. It had landed face up, but the screen was disappointingly dark. Where was she and what was she doing?

“What do you think, Director-nim?”

He looked at Manager Park. There was a question? Had she already asked it?

“Er. Yes?” he hazarded. As guesses go, his chances of being right were 50-50. But if he said no, she might stay longer and he needed to get back to his phone and find Ji Won.

“Really?” Manager Park’s face was confused. Ji Hyuk’s heart sunk.

“We’ll go with what makes sense to you then, Manager Park. I trust you, and nowIhavetogopleaseexcuse me.”

Manager Park nodded uncertainly. Then she got up and turned to the door. Behind her Ji Hyuk dove under his desk to get the phone. To her shock he brushed past her, wrenched open the door and left before she could. She stared after him, watching his long strides eat up the space between the office and the elevators. She nodded in understanding. Director-nim was a busy man.

Ji Hyuk leapt into the elevators and hit the button for the roof top. At the next floor some colleague got in. They exchanged quick nods. Ji Hyuk was quite proud of his civilized response.

Then his phone buzzed and he peeked at it. A text. Ji Won. But he didn’t dare open it, not with someone else present. Not until he had some privacy to go apeshit crazy. The colleague got off and he sighed in relief.

Finally, the doors opened for the rooftop and he stepped out into the weak winter sunshine. He looked around, and no one else was there. With trepidation, he pulled out his phone and stared at the screen.

“It’s what you think it means.”

Goddamnit, woman!

He groaned and muttered into his hand. To say that his cock was throbbing would be an understatement. His entire body was paying attention. His heart raced, and he was sweating. He white-knuckled his phone and tried to battle the memories of her sweet, tender skin and how she had felt under his exploring fingers. During the session with her backless dress, it had taken every ounce of self-control he had not to reach forward and cup her. He’d spent a frantic 5 minutes after that in the shower, relieving himself while imagining the taste, color and mouth-watering perkiness of her nipples. What was she was doing to him? How was he supposed to respond? The physical intimacy of the past few weeks had been good, no phenomenal, with no sign of returning fears for her. But a good manager practiced cautious optimism.

Then another awful thought occurred to him. What if other people knew? What if other men saw something? He went from sweaty hot to clammy cold. His fingers shook as he typed.

“Keep your jacket on…please.”

“Of course,” she said, right behind him.

The phone fell from his numb fingers. Again.

Ji Won

She couldn’t help but smile when she saw his reaction. It was exactly what she had wanted, exactly how she imagined he would react when she hatched up her idea today. She’d been putting her tiny rosé studs on in the mirror this morning, and the long fluttering ribbons around her collar had floated just so around her breasts. Their weight was featherlight, and still she had felt them, even through the cups of her bra. Her nipples were extremely sensitive lately, and she knew exactly why. They had been aching, aching for Ji Hyuk’s hands on them. Even just thinking it made her tingle.

Three date nights later, three long, breathless, make-out sessions later, and she was wondering how Ji Hyuk had so much self-control. Every time it was him who suggested they stop. Every time, she would agree demurely, reluctant to show how much she wanted him to keep going. She was feeling shy, feeling exposed, and he had been probably right to call it each time. Each time, she had been amazed at how different she felt from before. How much his desire and roaming hands didn’t make her want to freeze up and just escape. How the dim echoes of you frigid bitch never seemed to be connected to what Ji Hyuk and her did. The insults she had endured from her ex just did not seem to apply to their panting, heated lovemaking. Each time they had gone a bit further, from shoulders, to arms, to one unforgettable night involving the backless dress she had worn to her reunion.

But it was now a month since they started dating and her body was officially starting to go haywire. The slightest brush against her own bra as she put it on, and she would whimper and think of Ji Hyuk’s hands on her. It got a bit ridiculous when she bumped into the edge of her table one night, and the radiating pain made her imagine his hand gripping her hips, and how his long, strong fingers might soothe the pain away. Deeply-ingrained restrictions made it hard for her to ask Ji Hyuk outright to do more, but perhaps there were other ways. And so, her foolhardy mind had cooked up this scheme, which, thankfully, just might be working.

Ji Hyuk’s eyes were moving around and staring at everything except her. More precisely, he was studiously not examining her chest “area”. Ji Won wanted to laugh, if things weren’t quite so desperate.

Ji Hyuk kept his eyes focused somewhere near her right ear. It was to her right earring that he directed his next words.

“Uhm…,” he waved vaguely in the direction of her jacket, “you have your jacket on. Good. Good.”

“Yes, I do. It’s a winter day and it gets cold up here.”

“Yes. Well,” Ji Hyuk seemed to be struggling for words. “Do you have anything else on?”

Ji Won couldn’t help it, she blushed, even though she’d told herself she’d be cool about seducing her own man. The bloom deepened on her cheeks and she clasped her cold hands to them, trying to tone it down. The heat kept going, and it seeped down, down her chest, warming her breasts, making the tips pulse and tingle as if Ji Hyuk had been caressing them already. But along with it came a rising excitement, an anticipation that she had never felt before. She wanted this. She wanted him.

The intensity of that thought was surprising. But she felt it, she felt her ownership of her desire and the power that claiming it gave her. Previously, physical intimacy had been a thing the man wanted. Ji Won had never experiencing wanting it herself, for herself. The growing conviction that gave her made her straighten her spine and she slowly unclasped her cheeks.

She took a step nearer to him, lifting her chin in an unconsciously seductive pose. Ji Hyuk was forced to look directly at her and he seemed mesmerized. Holding his eyes, she unbuttoned the two buttons holding her jacket together. She slipped the left side of her jacket down, and held it there, coquettishly showing nothing more than one shirt-clad shoulder. She glanced at it.

Ji Hyuk’s eyes darted to where she was looking, as she’d meant him to. At first he looked confused, then his widening eyes told her she’d made her point. The white shirt was slightly opaque, and in that opaque whiteness, she knew Ji Hyuk could see no bra strap. No whiter line bisected her shoulder.

“Nghf. Grsn.”

The sounds that escaped Ji Hyuk were the most delightful things Ji Won had ever heard from him. His jaw hung open, and he was working his throat to say something, but no human word escaped.

She shrugged her jacket back on and buttoned it right back up.

“Right, Director-nim. Time to get back to work. Can’t be slacking off during the day!” She peeked at his stunned face from under her eyelashes.

Then she spun on one toe and sauntered back to the rooftop access door and to the elevators. Ji Hyuk didn’t move, and he didn’t follow her.

—

Ji Hyuk.

He stared at his calendar. It was 4pm, and time for Marketing’s all-team meeting. She would be there. She, and her bold, seductive self, the one he had never met before this day. How was he going to get through the meeting without ogling her and creating an HR issue? Because, if any man even came near her today, he’d take them down, with violent pleasure. In fact, he almost wished it, just to have an outlet for this turbulence.

He was unaccustomed to this sense of irrational possessiveness. Something ferocious churned under his skin, and his hands fisted at idea of any other man coming close to her. Even on the judo mat he had never been like this. His fighting style had always been methodical, analytic, unrushed.

As it was, he’d barely survived the day, and that was by studiously avoiding her, avoiding looking at her if she were nearby. But now, he had a meeting to chair, and she was PRESENTING the latest numbers. There was no escaping this one.

At 3.55pm, he stood up heavily. Gathering up his note pad (he never took a laptop, because it distracted him from the details), and pen, he resignedly made his way to the meeting room. Ji Won would be the death of him. When the disciplinary letter from HR came, he’d planned to just admit to everything and quit. Career, schmareer.

Because nothing, nothing, was better than being seduced by Kang Ji Won.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

#marry my husband #fanfic #na in woo #park min young #yu jihyuk #kang jiwon

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dragonnan · 16 days

Text

Secret

May Prompts 2024

Full disclosure this is a completed story on AO3. However this fit the prompt perfectly and this is not a story that has seen much attention so double bonus! Haha!

May 12: "Secret"

It had all started in Dartmoor.

It had nearly been 2am by the time they'd finished up at the field and had staggered back to the hotel. Sherlock had left hours earlier so John had offered to remain behind with Greg while they had filled in the local constabulary; a greying man a year out from retirement along with his replacement-in-training. Well out of his jurisdiction, and glad of it, Greg had suggested a stop at the hotel bar before heading off to bed. John had been more than happy to erase the evening in alcohol and they'd ended up having several drinks before finally splitting off towards their respective rooms. The room he shared with Sherlock was dark when John wrestled his key into the lock and swung the door. Opting to spare his vision, he switched on only the bedside lamp – filling a corner of the room with a warm yellow glow. The bed was empty, of course. The bar had been empty of everyone save himself and Greg so it was anyone's guess as to where Sherlock had wandered off. No doubt burning off the events of the night in his own way, John didn't dwell on the other man's fluctuating mood – moving instead towards the loo... only to find the door locked.

“Sherlock?” A double rap of knuckles met only silence. “Sherlock, you alright? Open the door.”

“John?” The soft warble of his voice was enough to pump a shot of adrenaline through John's chest – alarm pushing him to rap the door a bit more firmly. “Sherlock, let me in.”

“John? What's wrong?” The voice came from behind him, this time; Greg rubbing at his forehead and looking about as knackered as John felt and far worse than he should be feeling after just two pints. Granted, it had been preceded by drugged mist, explosions, and giant dogs.

“It's Sherlock. Not sure what's going on,” he filled in softly. Greg, for his part, moved to rubbing his eyes.

“Well, aye, he's probably just paggered.”

An odd scramble followed Greg's comment. And then there was the sound of breaking glass.

“Shit,” setting his feet, John didn't hesitate in throwing his shoulder against the door – forcing it open onto another shadowed room. More scrambling followed – like something hard scraping against wood – and then Sherlock gave a short yelp and the shower curtain collapsed just as Greg blasted the room with the overhead light. John winced at the retina blinding afterimage – groaning as he pressed his palms against his eyes.

“Christ, ta for that...”

Eyes slow to adjust with the near blinding, it took John a moment to focus on the figure wrapped up in plastic. The curtain, with its pattern of small frogs in sailor hats, jutted up in a way suggesting something sharp was tenting it. Now fully in the tub, Sherlock had curled into himself as much as the limited space would allow.

“Please, don't... I'm fine.”

“Bollocks, you're fine,” John muttered; reaching for the curtain and pulling it aside...

Greg actually stumbled back – knocking something over that John couldn't be arsed to care about because his focus was completely on the figure huddled before him.

It was Sherlock... or... what looked like Sherlock. But...

“Good Christ, are those antlers?”

John shook his head, hard, with eyes squeezed tight. That fucking mist. No doubt still in their systems and an evening of drinking couldn't have helped matters. “Dammit, we're still hallucinating.”

An unexpectedly wild giggle burst from Lestrade. “Oh, ya think, do ya? Naw, I was thinking Sherlock literally turned into a bloody antelope!”

“Faun.” Both of them, now, looked back to Sherlock who still had antlers and, from the waist downward, a heavy layer of reddish brown fur, a scattering of dainty white spots, and...

“Hooves. He's got hooves.” John made that statement with the observation of someone of whom fate had delivered into madness. Of course he had hooves. He was half a deer, apparently.

Groaning, Greg staggered back towards the main room to drop into a chair. “Is it normal for a drug to last this long? I mean, I've done a fair bit of reading on the effects of stuff like cocaine and marijuana and even methamphetamines but this just seems...”

“Potent...” John offered – still transfixed by the absolute realness of the fantastical nature of Sherlock's form; as well as the fact that, aside from the rapidly fading buzz of alcohol, he didn't feel the least bit high. That said, the drug they'd been exposed to was completely unknown and it occurred to him that all three of them should have headed straight for the nearest hospital to be placed under observation.

“John, you are not hallucinating.” Sherlock had finally managed to tear the curtain free from his – well his... yeah. He remained crouched in the tub, however; his hooves... feet... slipping on the smooth porcelain.

It was then that John noticed the streak of blood on the rim of the tub.

“Damn, you're bleeding.” Pushing away all thoughts of deer people, John stepped forward to grasp Sherlock's upper arm – preparatory to helping him from the tub. This close he could feel the tremble running through Sherlock's body. He felt nearly hot to the touch and John cursed again at the realization Sherlock had been alone and sick while he'd been off making an evening of it. “Come on. Let's get you lying down so I can take a look at that injury.”

He refused to acknowledge the sensation of soft fur brushing against him as he helped Sherlock to stand. Between them, they managed to get Sherlock to the other room – Greg moving forward to help when the two of them emerged from the bathroom. Soon Sherlock was stretched out on the bed and John was examining the three inch gash across his right forearm.

“I cut it on the mirror when it broke.” His voice had resumed shaking – his whole body consumed with tremors.

“Yeah, well, its gonna need stitches. My kit is in the back of the car. Greg, do you mind?”

Grunting his reply, eyes still a bit dazed, Greg went to collect the bag while John gave the rest of Sherlock's body a scan for other injuries. Of course, this also forced him to confront the... less than human aspects.

“It's not real.” And maybe if he said that enough it would be true.

“I assure you it is. And had I the ability I would have changed back in order to avoid all of this. You weren't... humans are not meant to know of us...”

Cold bathed down from the crown of John's head to pour into his belly. “No. Nope. This is the side effect of a very powerful drug! Nothing more!”

“Do I look like a hallucination, John!” Sherlock roared – pushing himself to stand just as Greg returned from the car.

“Hell’s bloody bells...” Greg breathed.

Both men stood frozen as sobriety finally asserted that what they were seeing was actually, terrifyingly, real. And then Sherlock jerked, spun towards the nearest bin, and vomited.

An hour later, Sherlock sat, huddled and miserable, beneath the comforter while John and Greg finished up cleaning the bathroom of broken glass, scattered toiletries, and the torn remnants of Sherlock's clothes. Compartmentalizing had gotten them both this far but now, with no other activities to distract them, they were forced to confront the reality in the other room.

John could admit that he felt... well, terrified... Not of Sherlock, specifically but more... as though he had had the floor drop away – revealing a black and endless depth. It was apt that he felt he couldn't find his footing. Sherlock, for his part, had been very quiet during this time. Now, though, he sighed.

“Mycroft tried to warn me this would happen – eventually.”

John swallowed. Of course, Mycroft. He was one of these... these beings... as well. How many were there, then? Seeing the question on his face, Sherlock answered.

“There are more of us than you would think. As you can understand, however, it has been crucial to our safety that we remain hidden. If it weren't for what happened, yesterday, you would never have known about me.”

Trying, very hard, to get past the gut twisting wrongness, John moved to the chair directly opposite of the bed. Greg, for his part, still stood near the door. “You mean the mist?”

Sherlock shook his head; his antlers catching the soft light. “It's a reaction to coming face to face with a predator to our kind.”

John frowned. “Do you mean... the dog? I don't understand. I've seen you interacting with dogs, even patting then, dozens of times. Why would this...?”

“It wasn't a dog,” Sherlock swallowed, “It was a werewolf.”

Desperately putting the fur, antlers, and bloody hooves out of his mind, John scrambled for normalcy in the best way he knew how. By arguing.

“No... no I saw it. It was a dog. You said it was a dog.”

“Yes – I said it was a dog. But what did you see before I said that?”

He wasn't quite ready to accept that his flatmate was hooved much less that fairy tale monsters roamed the moors. But then the other part, of what Sherlock said, registered in his mind.

“Hold up – what do you mean by 'before you said that'?”

And here, Sherlock looked down, fingers pulling at the duvet. “I... our kind... we have the ability to alter perception. Not much – less so the younger we are – but enough to make you see a dog instead of a werewolf simply by speaking an absolute imbued with Power. It helps that you already expected to see a dog.” Here he looked up through his lashes. “Did you truly believe any drug would give everyone the exact same hallucination?”

John, though, still wasn't ready for all of... that. “That dog had an owner. Two owners – they admitted to creating this entire legend. Are you saying they had a werewolf and didn't know about it?”

“They knew exactly what they had. They thrive on trickery and no doubt were ecstatic over the chaos they caused.”

“So how did two, uh, humans end up in possession with that... that... that creature?”

Sherlock's eyes squinted shut. “They weren't human. They were satyrs. Similar to faun in appearance but far more powerful. They, too, can speak words of Power but unlike faun they can cloak their true nature from all creatures – including my kind. I didn't realize what they were until a short time ago.”

Hunched over his knees, John braced his hands on his thighs and breathed.

Finally giving in to the madness, Greg walked to the other chair where he dropped down with all the exhaustion of a man who hadn't slept for two days. Both hands scrubbed over his eyes. “So, what, you just speak one of these power words and we go back to seeing you as a human?”

Sherlock's lips pulled back, briefly, and John caught a glimpse of sharp canines. “No. At least not for a long duration given my form would merely be hidden from sight. The actual nature of my true body would still leave traces behind. As it is, faun are required to alter their shape in a manner which allows for full integration with humanity. It is, rather, a more physical process. And a painful one.”

At John's tipped head, Sherlock wrapped his arms about himself. “I can transform my shape. Well, once the adrenaline surge wanes enough to allow for it. It is not pleasant, however.”

“Does this happen a lot? Whenever you encounter a... well... a, ah, werewolf?”

Sherlock leaned back against the headboard – antlers tapping the wall. “Fortunately they are quite rare, nowadays. This is the first werewolf I've ever encountered. The last known sighting was more than sixty years ago.” Then, stretching, Sherlock swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “Now, if you don't mind, I need some privacy.”

It wasn't until he was back out in the hallway that John realized he'd just been kicked out of his own room.

Greg offered a pitying look. “I've a roll away in the closet if you want.”

John was about to accept when both of them startled at the sudden groan from the other side of the door. This was followed by what John could only imagine as the spongy snap of wet bone – immediately followed by a muffled scream.

“Jesus-” Without thought on the matter he immediately threw open the door and rushed back inside... to find Sherlock nude, soaked, and fully human, collapsed in a heap next to the bed.

Read the rest of the story on AO3

@totallysilvergirl @sgam76 @helloliriels @sevdrag

#sherlock #may prompts 2024 #secret #fanfic #please let me know if you don't want to be tagged!

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euphoricfilter · 1 year

Note

hi! 💕

for the drabble game: "it's okay, i couldn't sleep anyway." with yoongi. hurt/comfort, superhero/supervillain au, please! thank you! 💖

you and i:

pairing: supervillain! yoongi x superhero! reader

genre: fluff || the mildest angst || non-idol au || technically enemies to implied lovers?? || superhero/ supervillain au

summary: you commit treason, and there's only one person you'd ever trust with your life

word count: 1.2k

tags/ warnings: mentions of death/ murder, mild angst, sort of flufff?? there isn't really much to tag? i didn't proof read this, that's a warning because i usually read over my stuff 3 times before releasing it

notes: i wrote this in less than an hour as a quick lil gift for everyone <3 so if there's mistakes seriously there isn't!! drabble game is closed, so please don't send a request in!!

drabble masterlist || my full masterlist

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The moonlight felt almost palpable, that if you were to look down it would spill through your fingers like runny nectar. It cut across your face like shards of fogged up glass, hanging roofs of alleyways flushing you in the partial shadows.

Any other night you would have stopped to admire her beauty— any other night you’d be locked away in your apartment. Except tonight was a little different, and not the good kind of different.

You had no time to stop, feet falling forward in rushed steps, because if you stopped now then surely they’d find you.

You stumble over your own feet, halting at the steel staircase, winding up in a crooked spiral.

You take a step back, peering both ways over your shoulder from the alley way to make sure no one was close enough to follow you. The soles of your shoes clank against the metal, legs dragging you up two stairs at a time.

You tilt your head to look up at the moon as you balance on the rooftop’s ledge, one wrong step and you’d sure to stumble to the ground. You doubt it would kill you— only give the people you were running from an advantage over your escape.

You stop when you find your salvation, knuckles rapping against the wooden door in quick succession.

You rock on your heels, tongue wetting your bottom lip.

You lift your fist to knock at the door again, only for it to open. Yoongi’s eyes widen a fraction before his shoulders relax.

“If you’re here to bring me in, come back in the morning” he waves you off, fingers tightening their hold around the door, moment away from shutting it in your face.

“Actually—“ you suck in a breath through your teeth, “Actually, that’s not why I’m here. I need help”

Yoongi peers out of the door, feline eyes squinting, “Come in” he beckons, kicking the door closed behind him.

“I’m sorry I know it’s late, it’s just—“ you push your palms into the sockets of your eyes, “I didn’t know where else to go” you admit, a soft pink hue dusting your cheeks.

“It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyways” he slinks into the living room, “Got yourself into some trouble?”

You swallow back the lump in your throat, backs of your eyes stinging ever so slightly as you take a seat opposite him on a chair.

“We both know I was never the most morally correct person, even in my field of work” you start, “And that a lot of people want me dead”

Yoongi hums, slouching a little on the couch, “How bad?”

Your foot taps against the floor, leg bouncing, “Pretty bad” though it comes out barely above a whisper. “I’ll leave tomorrow, I just needed some place to stay for the night”

“You’re brave, stepping into the house of an enemy” he starts and a smile teases at the corners of your lips.

“Barely” your shoulders curl in on themselves, “You’re more of a friendly foe in the grand scheme of things now”

“You thinking of quitting the union? They were never good for you anyways, always feeding you this richeous bullshit-“

“I have no choice but to leave”

Yoongi sits up at that, “Pardon?”

“If I ever step foot back in that building, I would never leave, and they’d probably display my head somewhere at the gates”

“What exactly did you do?”

You blink, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as your mind reels over how much you should share. You knew Yoongi would ask at some point, but you hadn’t exactly expected it to be so soon.

“Treason”

Yoongi barks out a laugh, “Treason?”

You nod, “We both know I hated it there”

“And you hadn’t thought to just leave?” He shakes his head, “They won’t stop until they kill you, you do know that right?”

“Of course. I know too much” you huff out a laugh, “If I let one little secret slip, then it’s all over for them. Some people would pay millions for this stuff”

“And you plan to sell it?” Yoongi sits on the edge of the couch now.

“Not unless I truly need to, I’ve shared enough for now. And the money I got is enough to keep me going for a while”

You can see the proud glint in Yoongi’s eye, scar cut across his face barely visible in the dim lamp light of his home.

“That’s bold. Even for me— I wasn’t sure if you had it in you”

You shake your head, “You had always said, You and I are more similar than we give each other credit for”

“You never fit in, in that shitty old hero’s union”

“I had never planned to stay forever”

“Why did you?”

Your head tilts slightly, eyes flitting to Yoongi’s mouth and then back up to his eyes, the faintest smile gracing your face as you wander into curious eyes, “That’s a secret”

You peer around his apartment, barely a home beyond the bare necessities. And you suppose for a man constantly moving to hide from people like yourself—or at least who you used to be, holding onto things would only ever weigh you down.

“Have you ever thought of travelling? Further than this town, better places” You meet Yoongi’s eyes, wondering if he can see the vulnerability radiating off your body in thick waves.

“I’ve considered it. Why?”

Your lungs are flooded with air, “What about—“ you scoot yourself closer to the edge of the couch, “What about us?”

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow, “Us?”

“Yes. I know technically we’re not friends, at least you might not think we are, but, what do you think about the two of us travelling? Together?”

“Would you like to know the truth?”

You hesitate to nod, wondering if this is where whatever you and Yoongi have sinks, tugging your heart along with it. And you can ffeel the dread bubbling inside of your chest.

“I only stayed here, because of you”

“Then, may I tell you my secret?”

Yoongi nods.

“I only stayed at the union because it gave me an excuse to come find you, as the one overseeing your file, it felt like the perfect excuse”

“And you hadn’t though to ask me if we could just, put our views behind us and be friends?” He asks, a laugh ready to drip off his tongue.

“First off, our views are very similar. It was extremely difficult to get into the union in the first place with all their morally right shit. Second, I could have sworn you didn’t like me”

“I never said that!” Yoongi points an accusatory finger at you, “So what’s our plan?”

Your eyes widen by a fraction, “Was it really that easy?”

“It’s not like I’m holding onto anything else here except you” he shrugs, “Why, having second thoughts?”

You shake your head, “No. Quite the opposite actually. I’m incredibly excited”

“A truce then?” He outstreches his hand for you to shake.

You gladly take it, “The start of a new team?”

“Of course” he laughs.

You push yourself to stand, slinking over towards Yoongi. You bend down, “And maybe something more” you press a kiss to his cheek.

“Gladly” he cups your cheeks, pulling you down until his lips pillow yours, and you're falling just that little bit faster for him.

☆ as always, feedback is appreciated. and thank you for reading!!

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #yoongi fic #bts yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #bts au fic #bts au #bts non idol au #bts au fanfic #yoongi x you #yoongi

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barry-j-blupjeans · 8 months

Text

Carey didn't really like going into the Director's office. Like, yeah, sure, she'd have to come on by every once and a while if Lucretia wanted to talk to her or just some of the Regulators in general. But being in an office wasn't exactly Carey's preferred "let's have a conversation zone". Sadly, this was a conversation she would prefer to have as soon as possible, so waiting to catch the Director outside her office was a no-go.

Carey rapped on the door, and then let herself in before the Director could answer. The office had grown more cluttered since Candlenights. Maybe it was the quick pace they were making with collecting the Relics, but the Director often seemed much more weary than she used to. There were times when she truly looked her age. Carey didn't know much about how humans aged— though she was learning! She was learning.— but every time she looked, the Director seemed to have aged a few more years.

There was a stack of papers stacked on her desk in a messy pile. The Director had three out in front of her— Carey could recognize Magnus's chicken scratch. She seemed to be reviewing the mission reports from the last relic collection. The Temporal Chalice and whatnot. At the very least, that might make this conversation a little easier.

The Director looked up at her. Had she ever told them how old she was? She looked worn and on edge, but she put on her professional face as Carey shut the door, the face she rarely let anyone see her without. Carey knew when someone was wearing a mask all too well.

"Carey," she said, moving the reports aside. "What can I do for you?"

Okay. Okay. She could do this. Just had to say words! In a good order. Yeah.

"Well, uh," Carey said, sitting herself down in one of the chairs across from the Director's desk. "I just had a question, 'Creesh."

The Director let out a little annoyed sigh. She rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Please don't call me that," she said.

"Just keepin' you on your toes," Carey said. She swung her tail back and forth to give herself something to do. "No, but, for real. I did have a question."

The Director waved her hand in a "go ahead" motion. Carey cleared her throat.

"Is there anything… other than the Voidfish that can, like, static up someone's memories?"

The Director blinked. She sat up a little.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well," Carey said. How in-depth did she want to go with this? She picked around in her mind for a starting point. Her gaze lingered on the mission reports and Magnus's shitty handwriting a moment longer. "Y'know the— the whole thing that the Chalice did where it, uh… rooted through the boys' memories a bit?"

The Director kept her face perfectly neutral. Not a crack.

"I'm aware," she said, glancing down at the reports as well.

"I don't know how, uhm, in-depth they got with you on those reports," Carey said, even though she did know exactly how in-depth Magnus had gone with his (which is to say: barely anything. The deep and understandable distrust of authority figures hadn't changed in Refuge.). "But I was talkin' to Magnus and, uh. We were just wondering. 'Cus there was an entire… bit. With a buncha static, apparently? Like, a real long bit. And I know static is kinda the Voidfish's thing, but he's inoculated obviously, so—?"

She left the question open-ended, watching the Director's face. As expected, there wasn't a shift in expression. There was open concern there, a little bit of curiosity. But from what Carey could tell, the Director seemed to be telling the truth when she said,

"As far as I'm aware of, nothing else has powers remotely like the Voidfish." She paused, tilting her head. "It may be a memory spell, or mayhaps a curse? But Magnus should— he should not be receiving any memory-impacting side effects of the Voidfish since he has been inoculated with the ichor."

"Killian was thinkin' curse," Carey admitted, swinging her legs. "But then it's just like— why, y'know? Like whatever he can't remember isn't doing anything other than— than— ughhhh." Carey dragged her hand down her face. "Director, can you keep a secret?"

"Carey," the Director said, with a touch of humor. "Think of who you're asking."

"Fair enough," Carey relented. "It's just— it's not my secret to tell, but also you are like, one of the only people I could think of of knowing what the hell might be going on. But it's— well, y'know how Magnus grew up in Raven's Roost?"

"I'm well aware," the Director said. "As he keeps mentioning it every other conversation we have."

"Yeah," Carey said. "He does that. But he— I mean, again, he grew up in Raven's Roost. Like, that's his entire thing. But, uhm. He told me that sometimes in like, the last few years he lived there, things seemed… off?"

"How do you mean?"

Carey groaned, trying to think.

"Like— his mom ran a flower shop? But no one ever heard of it before. No— no one seemed to know his mom. And I can tell it upset him, but he doesn't like to talk about it, y'know? It's hard— it's hard to kinda chip away at his brain when he doesn't really trust his brain in the first place."

And there it was. For the first time since Carey entered the room, a small crack appeared in the Director's perfect mask. It was a small thing— she clenched her jaw and drew back on herself slightly, barely enough to be noticeable. And the look in her eyes changed from professional interest to completely and utter devastation and back to professional interest once more. She locked herself back up even faster than Magnus did. That being said, Carey wasn't as close with the Director as she was with Magnus.

She knew Magnus's tells. The way he held himself, the tiniest change in his expressions, the pitch of his voice. But it was hard to see past the brick wall that was the Director's facade. All she got were these little glances, the restless note in her speech, the state of her office.

Magnus held secrets he didn't know about. Carey knew that. The Director looked like she held all her secrets and the weight of the world as well. In some way, she did.

Carey didn't know if she'd be able to have the courage to do what the Director did. She was beginning to become uncertain if that was a good or a bad thing.

"Magnus should not be receiving any memory-impacting side effects of the Voidfish," the Director repeated, voice steady, body still. Carey's tail thrashed a bit. Then, with a touch of sincerity and a weird twist of what Carey could only identify as yearning, she added, "but I genuinely hope you can find something that will ease Magnus's mind."

"Yeah," Carey said, watching as the Director straightened the reports out, then pick up a pen. "Me too."

#carey fangbattle #lucretia #taz the director #taz #taz balance #mine #ise cube writing #idk if i've ever like. fully written a carey pov #but it was fun !

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makeitmingi · 9 months

Text

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 32]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.3K

You stirred in the middle of the night, turning around only to bump into something hard. Half asleep, you frowned before you cracked open an eye, only to be met by Mingi's sleeping face. The frown disappeared and you smiled sleepily, reaching up to cup his cheek. He snored softly, undisturbed by you.

"Welcome home." You whispered, rubbing his cheek with your thumb. He groaned, his hold on your waist tightening as you pulled you closer to him. He buried his face into your chest.

"Big baby." You chuckled as you stroked the back of his head.

"Please... don't go..." You heard Mingi mumbled in his sleep, almost sounding like a whimper.

"I'm not going anywhere." You replied. Despite using your soaps, there was still a scent from Mingi that calmed you down and made your heart feel warm.

"Goodnight." Knowing that Mingi was here, his body against yours, lulled you back to sleep quickly.

Mingi woke up to find the space beside him empty. He placed his palm on the bedsheet to feel that it was still warm. That meant you got up not too long ago.

"Baby!" Mingi yelled, facing the ceiling with his limbs spread out. He expected you to rush in, panicked and worried, then scolding him for scaring you. But he waited and there was nothing, no rushed footsteps or anything.

"Baby? Where are you...?" Mingi yawned as he shuffled out of the bedroom.

"I wanna be where you at. Fix On! Put your hands up!" You had your headphones on, singing Turbulence into a spoon, as you prepared breakfast, performing like it was your own concert.

You mumbled out the rest of Ming's rap lyrics, the rap being too fast for you. Mingi took his phone out to record you.

"Passion, Young, Fever~" You rapped, turning around and nearly jumping out of your skin when you saw Mingi just standing there, watching and recording you.

"Yah. You scared me!" You placed a hand on your racing heart.

"Please, don't let me interrupt the concert. I'm really enjoying it." Mingi chuckled, gesturing for you to continue. You glared at him before turning back to the stove to cook but you stopped singing and dancing, much to Mingi's dismay. He put his phone into his hoodie pocket and walked to you.

"Good morning." He wrapped his arms around you, leaning down to plant a kiss on your cheek.

"Delete the video." You mumbled, ignoring his sweet greeting and kiss. Mingi knew you were embarrassed that he caught you, especially since you always told him you never liked your own voice.

"It's cute, baby. Especially your rap." He chuckled, nuzzling your cheek with his nose.

"What rap, huh?! You know I was just mumbling. How dare you video my private moment without consent, Song mingi" You repeatedly slapped him.

"Ack! Stop hitting me!" He shielded his face with his arms.

"Hate you." You stuck your tongue out.

"We both know you don't mean that. And also, take it as payback for leaving me alone in bed. I had to wake up to a cold, empty bed on my own. Again." He raised an eyebrow, pointing to the fact that you have left him to wake up alone multiple time before.

"I was making YOU breakfast." You poked his chest. Mingi wrapped his fingers around your wrist, his other hand encircling your waist to pull you against his body.

"I missed you so much." He leaned down to capture your lips with his. The hand holding your wrist let go to cup your cheek.

"M-Mings, the food." You said in between his kisses.

"I don't care. Let it burn." He grasped your chin with his thumb and forefinger to guide your lips back to his. But to appease you, Mingi reached behind you to turn the stove off.

"I missed you too, by the way. Even if we are in the same building." You wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You've been practicing so hard." You moved his fringe away from his face with a giggle.

"We're both working hard." He had his signature dorky grin on his face. Suddenly he grabbed your waist, lifting you up onto the kitchen counter. You yelped, holding his shoulders in fear. Mingi slotted himself between your legs, arms wrapping around your waist and leaning his head against your chest.

"Just for a while." He whispered. Mingi just wanted to be as close to you as possible now. It made every bad thought melt away and calmed him down.

"Okay." You replied softly, pressing your cheek to the top of his head as you held him.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep before you came back last night." You said. Mingi pulled away to look at you with a frown.

"Baby, what are you saying? Silly girl, why are you apologising for falling asleep, hmm? I want you to sleep more." He stroked your cheek, smiling softly at you.

"Besides, you falling asleep revealed to me that you watch my fancams when I'm not around." He continued to tease you. Your eyes widened, no wonder your phone was charging on your night stand when you woke up.

"Oh my gosh." You hid your face in your hands, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"I love you, baby." Mingi kissed your head.

After that sweet moment, you continued cooking breakfast. You made a potato hash with sausage meat and eggs, a Western breakfast rather than your usual Asian breakfast.

"This is good. Can I have some ketchup?" Mingi asked. You handed him the ketchup bottle.

You sat with Mingi on the couch, both of you having your own plate of food as you watched television. Cups of iced coffee in front of you on the table.

"This feels very domestic of us." You chuckled.

"Does it?" Mingi laughed along. Both you and Mingi didn't feel the need to always go out on dates. With both your schedules keeping you away from each other, you would much prefer to comfortably hang out in the comfort of your home. Rather than having to look over your shoulder in case there were fans or the media.

"The CEO dropped by the practice room yesterday." Mingi suddenly told you. You stopped chewing, looking up at him with a slightly concerned expression.

"Don't worry, it was nothing regarding us... He just wanted to see how we were doing. He had nice things to say about you." He smiled.

"Really?" You asked, poking at your food with your fork.

"Mhmm, he was really impressed with your work for the upcoming comeback. He called you an asset to the team." Mingi described. You nodded with a hum as you listened.

"He came to my studio yesterday, probably after he went to the practice room to see you guys." You said.

"Yeah, he said he was going to drop by. What did he talk to you about?" Mingi asked.

"Nothing much. Just wanted to see the progress of the b-side tracks. He wants to make sure they're just as good as the title songs. And we talked about the song credits, making sure all your names are properly credited so the fans can appreciate it." You explained.

"Oh... Did he... talk to you about your contract?" Mingi seemed to hesitate when he asked you that. You could hear it in his voice, how he broached the subject carefully.

"Not exactly. More hinting that we'll talk after the comeback." You lied, shrugging your shoulders.

"That's a good sign right?" He scrached his head.

"Maybe. Let's see how this comeback does before getting our hopes up." You chuckled and Mingi nodded. He didn't want to put too much pressure on you.

You felt bad for lying to Mingi but whether your future career was with or without KQ, you didn't know yet. Even so, you didn't want to burden Mingi with your decision. He was already dealing with a lot.

"I've got to go for practice at 4 so until then, you're not leaving my side." After breakfast and doing the dishes, Mingi took you back to bed. He didn't want to do anything, not watch a movie or play a game, he just wanted to spend as much time as possible holding you. You gladly welcomed him.

"I know you guys have your diets and all that but your health is first okay?" You squeezed Mingi's hand.

"Yes, ma'am. You better be eating your meals and sleeping. Doesn't mean I'm not there, means you can just forget to eat and sleep." He lightly knocked his forehead against yours.

"I won't, I promise." You giggled.

"Good. Because not only will you have me on your case but Seonghwa hyung, Hongjoong hyung, Wooyoung, the entire Ateez will on it too." He threatened.

"Alright, alright." You laid on top of his chest, arms around his body. Mingi patted your head.

"Are you excited for comeback season?" You asked.

"Yeah, I'm excited to be performing on stage again, seeing fans and interacting with them. It's like an adrenaline high, you don't feel the exhaustion until after the high." He chuckled.

"You all have been working so hard. I mean, I haven't seen the dance but from what I know, Ateez dances are not easy. But this will be the first time I get to watch you all perform on stage, I'm excited for that." You lifted your head to grin at him.

"Look at you being an Atiny. Cute." He pulled you up so you were at eye level with him.

"You should come see us practice." He suggested.

"I'm just going to be a distraction the everyone, especially you." You rolled your eyes. Mingi smiled softly, not even denying your words. He kissed forehead, hugging you to him.

"I'll only be able to hug you and hold you like this at home now." Mingi suddenly said.

"Mings..." You felt conflicted.

"It's okay. I'm just... lamenting. As long as I have you, I'm happy. I'll do whatever it takes." Mingi nuzzled his cheek against the top of your head as his hold on you tightened.

When Mingi had to leave for dance practice, your heart felt heavy. For some reason, you didn't want him to go, you wanted him to stay with you. You silently followed him through the house as he got ready. Mingi noticed but never pointed it out. Every chance that he could, he held your hand in his.

"Have a good practice. Don't get hurt." You smiled up at him as he got ready to leave.

"Thank you. Are you going to the building later?" He asked.

"No, I told Eden I'm working from my home studio today." You shook your head. Mingi nodded with a hum. He leaned down to plant a kiss on your lips.

"Goodbye, love." He stroked your cheek. You nodded, tip toeing to give him another peck on the cheek.

"I love you. I'll see you soon." You waved, watching from the door as he walked into the lift. Before entering the lift, Mingi turned back to smile and wave. He pulled his mask up and left.

You closed the door, feeling the emptiness of the house weigh on you. There was a weird stirring in your gut but you brushed it off as just one of your random weird feelings. After making yourself a mug of coffee, you shut yourself in the studio to work.

"And hold... 2, 3, 4... Good job everybody!" The main choreographer said loudly and clapped as the 8 boys collapsed in their spots, breathing heavily.

"Good job. Thank you." The backup dancers and Ateez members stood up to bow to each other.

"Oh my gosh..." Wooyoung panted heavily as he laid on the floor. San pulled him up, handing him a bottle of cold water.

"Aish." Mingi sat against the mirror as he tried to catch his breath.

"Be careful not to strain your back, hyung." Jongho reminded, tossing the taller male a bottle of water too. Mingi nodded, giving the youngest a grateful thumbs up.

"Everyone, have a water break for 10 minutes then we'll watch the video playback." Hongjoong announced to the members.

"Yes, captain." They replied in unison.

"Hongjoong, Mingi and Jongho need to start practicing with microphones in their hands." The choreographer said. Based on their preferences, the rappers and Jongho liked using hand held microphones when performing on stage. Therefore, they needed to practice dancing with it.

"Should I change to in ear instead?" Hongjoong sighed at the thought. There was always a risk of not using the right hand or dropping the microphone.

"Ah, what are you saying, hyung? You danced with a cane AND a mic. You'll be fine." Yeosang chuckled.

"Everyone gather." Seonghwa called.

The boys obediently gathered around the iPad, all watching the recorded dance video. They all had serious looks on their faces as they watched themselves and the other members.

"The formation here needs to be tighter." Yunho pointed out. Being the lead of dance practices, he usually notices details quickly.

"Let's go back to this part." Mingi decided. They paused the video and went to stand in their positions.

"Yeosang, move forward." The choreographer waved.

"Move in, San. That's better." He held his hands in front to make sure the alignment was correct. Once all the mistakes were clarified and corrected, they decided to call it a night. The Ateez boys stood together and bowed as the dance team left.

*Last online: 3:34pm*

Mingi noticed that you were not online since he left for dance practice 5 hours ago. You were probably busy in your studio so he didn't want to call and bother you.

'I'm done with dance practice. Make sure you take eye breaks and have dinner. - Mings'

"Where should we go for dinner?" Yunho asked as they packed up their things to get ready to leave the studio.

"I can't eat anymore flour stuff." Seonghwa sighed.

"What about grilled eel? Mingi's mother's restaurant?!" Wooyoung perked up. Mingi's head raised at the mention of his name. He looked around in confusion.

"Will your mum be able to sit us all now? It's a little last minute." Hongjoong asked.

"Oh... Let me call her." Mingi called his mother. But Mingi already knew what she was going to say. Of course she had a table and food ready for her 8 sons. All the Ateez parents were always ready to host the 8 boys. They all climbed into the van for the managers to drive them to Mingi's mother's restaurant.

"Omonim!" Wooyoung and San ran over to hug her. She happily welcomed everyone's hugs. But Mingi shoved everyone to the side, annoyed he was the real son and couldn't greet his mother.

"Be nice." She scolded Mingi. The others, with Mrs Song's backing, nodded in agreement.

"But you're my mum first." Mingi argued.

"You didn't bring (y-"

"You mean Indigo? No, omma, we came from practice and she's working from home." Mingi quickly cut his mother off before she could reveal your real name.

"Remember what I told you about her real name, omma?" He whispered. Mrs Song remembered, nodding her head. She quickly ushered the 8 hungry boys to the table at the side.

"How many portions of eel?" She asked.

"10 potions first... Three steamed eggs... 2 stews and who wants rice?" Seonghwa asked the table, knowing some of them were cutting their carbs. With all the orders in, Mingi's mother left them to prepare the food.

"Eat up everyone, we've been working so hard and deserve this good meal. Let's continue to give our 101% for the comeback." Hongjoong raised his tea cup.

"Yes! A successful comeback! For Atiny!" Yunho cheered as they all clinked their metal cups together.

"Here with your side dishes and eel." Mrs Song came with the staff members. The boys helped to pass down the dishes.

"Wah, it all looks so good. I can't wait for it to be done. I'm so hungry." Jongho smiled, patting his empty stomach as the pieces of eel were laid over the grill.

"Here is the lettuce and perilla leaves for wrapping. Also the dipping sauce with the ginger. This is the key" Mingi helped his mother hand out everything to the others.

While waiting for the meal to cook, Mingi's mother caught up with the other boys. Mingi secretly stared at the phone in his lap. You had not come online or read the message that he sent despite it already. being so late. He wondered if he should send you another message but he didn't want to seem clingy.

'The boys decided to eat at my mother's restaurant for dinner after practice. What did you have for dinner? - Mings'

He hid his worry in a common, normal question. After staring to see if you would reply right away, he locked his phone and tucked it under his thigh just in case you replied him.

"Eat up, everyone." Mrs Song smiled as she gave out the cooked eel to everyone.

"Here." Mingi cooked for his side of the table, taking the cut pieces and putting them on the members' plates.

"I want a wrap!" Wooyoung rolled his sleeves up.

"Are you okay, Mingi ah?" Yeosang asked.

"Mhmm, just tired. Don't worry." Mingi forced a smile, waving the concerned member off, making a wrap with the eel and eating it. The boys continued eating to their hearts' content until they were full, they ended up eating 15 portions of eel.

"I'll see you soon, omma." Mingi hugged his mother after they paid. She nodded, hugging her dear son tightly. She knew how hard he has been practicing for the comeback.

"Take care of yourself. And take care of (y/n), okay? Make sure she eats." She said softly.

"I will." He kissed her cheek. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he joined his other members in the van to go back to the dorm.

"Rest well, everyone. You all have your own schedules tomorrow for vocal and rap lessons." The managers announced. The 8 tired boys nodded, bowing to them.

"Thank you. See you tomorrow." They waved.

While the boys fought to shower first, Mingi slipped into his room. He suppressed his worries and dialled your number, he just wanted to make sure you were okay and not overworking. But before he could press the call button, your name flashed on the screen from your call. Mingi smiled as he pressed the phone to his ear.

"Hey, baby. Good timing. How did you know I was about to call you? Is it telepathy?" He smiled but all he heard was heavy breathing on the other end.

"Baby? (y/n)?" Mingi called with more seriousness this time, growing more worried.

"M-Mingi... I-I need you... I'm sorry..."

"I'm on my way. Stay on the phone, baby. Don't say sorry." Mingi shot to his feet immediately. He didn't even say anything to his members, slipping his shoes on and running out of the dorm.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, baby. It's okay. I'm coming." Mingi promised as he hailed a cab and made the driver speed to your house.

When he arrived at your house, he hurriedly opened the door and you threw yourself into his arms. Mingi let out a shaky sigh of relief as you cried in his arms.

"I'm here. I've got you, baby. I've got you. Breathe." He whispered continuously, holding you against him. He rubbed your back to try and encourage you to catch your breath. The two of you sank to the ground with Mingi gathering you to sit you on his lap.

"Follow my breathing, baby. It's okay." He instructed. You did as told and tried to follow his breathing pattern. Mingi was worried that this was what all the work stress was doing to you.

But you couldn't tell him it was because someone was following you home from the convenience store.

Series Masterlist

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writeroutoftime · 1 year

Text

please love me

pairing: steve harrington x reader (requested by: anon)

summary: based on the prompt "after all...I'm just a girl, standing in front of boy, asking him to love her." - Notting Hill

words: 0.5k

a/n: another late response to my valentine's blurb challenge, but now it's my love is in the air for spring blurbs lol. anyway, steve harrington is the love of my life and this was so fun to write!

oOoOo

What a mess you had made of it all. The look of hurt and betrayal on Steve's face was ingrained into your memory. You never meant for things to get this far. If someone would have told you in one week your best friend (and secret crush) Steve would confess his feelings to you and you would be the one to accidentally break his heart, you would have called them crazy.

For years Steve had been one of your closest friends, but in the past twelve months you longed for more. His pretty eyes and floppy hair had pulled you in and you never wanted to be far from him. The only thing that held you back was the paralyzing fear of losing Steve completely from his confession.

So, imagine your surprise when Steve was the first to confess his feelings during your weekly movie night. The words sent you into shock and all you could do was stare at the poor boy who sat in front of you. In fact, you stayed frozen for so long, Steve took it as a rejection, mumbled some half-assed excuse, and booked it back to his own place. As soon as the door slammed behind him, you groaned and ran your hands down your face in frustration.

The next day, you were determined to make amends with Steve and return his feelings by catching him as he got off of work. Unfortunately, you never got the chance because before you could get inside, you were stopped by your ex who happened to be walking by.

He came up to you and stepped so close you could feel his breath on your skin. It made you want to recoil. No matter how much you told him so, he wouldn't take the hint that the two of you would never be together again. However, he crossed the line when he grabbed your face and pressed his lips to yours. Immediately, you pushed away from him disgusted by his actions. But what hurt even more was seeing Steve's broken face as he watched the interaction from afar before running to his car.

oOoOo

Trying again the next day, your knuckles rapped against his door gently, as though it was Steve you were touching. The wait between your last knock and the opening of the door felt like a lifetime, and you sighed in relief when you saw Steve standing in front of you. His eyes were dimmer than normal, and his clothes looked rumpled, but he was still your Steve.

"Hi." you began rather lamely, not sure where to start.

Steve did not seem to be in the mood for small talk. "What do you want, y/n?" he deadpanned.

"I'm sorry for what happened, but you have to know what you saw is a completely misunderstanding." you began and rushed to continue as you watched Steve silently scoff at your words. "I didn't want him to be there, to be that close to me, or to even talk to me. I told him that all we're exes and that's all it's going to ever be. I'm so sorry that I hurt you, Steve."

"Yeah, well why should I believe you? I don't wanna be anyone's second choice."

His words hit hard in your chest. It was no secret how vulnerable Steve could be and for good reasons. You never wanted to be the person to cause him to doubt his worth. "Well, I'm here aren't I? After all, I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love you." you confessed, waiting with battered breath.

It took a moment, but Steve seemed to visibly soften at your words and let his guard down once more. "Y-you mean that? You love me?"

"Of course, I love you, Steve. I've been wanting to tell you for months, but I was always too scared. But I'm done being scared now."

He just laughed and pulled you in for a hug reveling in the warmth of your body. He looked at you lovingly and couldn't help but finally take the chance to wrap his arms around you and kiss you. Just like you said, he too was done being scared and it definitely paid off.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #rita writes

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sanguineterrain · 2 years

Text

Adore You - s.h | e.m.

Summary: When you and Eddie learn that Steve has never celebrated his birthday—and had no intention of letting you know he even had a birthday—you two make it your mission to give him the best birthday ever. Secret parties, however, aren’t always easy to keep secret.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader x Eddie Munson

Word count: 5k

Warnings: mild angst, misunderstandings, Steve's crappy parents, birthday fluff, happy ending!!

dividers by s-tarksintern

Follow @sanguine-stranger for all my Stranger Things fics updates!

"Yo, Buckley!"

The door jingled, alerting your entrance. Eddie held up a pair of customized Converse by the laces. Robin's eyes lit up.

"Holy shit!" she squealed, walking around the counter. "You’re a dream, Munson.”

"Flatterer," Eddie grinned, tossing her the shoes. "No charge."

She inspected the designs, all carefully hand-painted by Eddie. "Dude, you're awesome. Y/N, tell your boyfriend he's awesome."

"I remind him of that fact everyday," you grinned, pecking Eddie's jaw. "He knows."

"I know," Eddie smirked.

"Well, unfortunately, your other boyfriend sucks," she informed you. "He's been moping all week. And he left me to stack the new releases by myself!"

You frowned. "That doesn't sound like him. Where is he?"

Robin rolled her eyes. "I made him go pick up the tapes Keith ordered. Hopefully he eats something—that’s probably why he’s so cranky.”

"Aw, damn. We were gonna get his measurements to start his jean jacket," said Eddie. ”Don’t tell ‘im, though. It’s a secret.”

"Eds wanted to match," you explained. "Because he's a dork."

"You said it was a good idea, baby," he pouted.

"Both things can be true. It's very cute, honey," you assured. "He'll love it."

"Custom jacket is a great gift," Robin agreed, already lacing up her new shoes. "That's probably the one thing Steve's never gotten for his birthday."

You and Eddie both went still.

"Birthday?" he echoed.

"Yeah, it's next Sunday, remember? I made him look up his astrology chart and y'know what? A lot of it makes sense." She twirled her finger over her temple in a crazy sign. "Good luck."

"Wait, back up." You held up a hand. "Steve's birthday is next week?"

"Uh, yeah? Don't you know his birthday?"

"He never said anything." Eddie's face scrunched. "What the hell?"

"How do you know it, Robs?" you asked.

"I learned it by accident when Steve filled out his job application. You really didn't know? You guys have been dating for a while."

"We figured it had passed." You frowned. "He was just gonna let it come and go without ever telling us."

"Hang on. Maybe he doesn't know you usually tell serious relationships your birthday," Eddie reasoned. "This is the longest relationship he's had."

You thought for a moment, then rapped your knuckles on the counter.

"Actually, we're gonna take off.”

Eddie’s head swiveled to you. “What?”

“We have things to discuss.” You gave him a look, then turned to Robin. “Can you tell Steve we'll meet him at home?"

"You got it," Robin said, giving a two-finger salute. "Godspeed. And please pull that stick out of his ass!"

“Buckley wouldn’t lie about Steve’s birthday, would she?”

“No,” you said, watching the butter melt in Mrs. Harrington’s luxury cast-iron pan. “Definitely not.”

You and Eddie had gotten a copy of the Harringtons' house keys before you'd become something more. After an incident involving dead power lines and Eddie breaking into a window to make sure Steve wasn't bleeding or possessed, Steve had gone ahead and given you keys. He'd said he trusted you with his life—and that Eddie was to never break in again.

"'Kay, we have to approach this tactfully, sweetheart. How 'bout this: I'll bring up my own birthday first. Then it'll be a natural turn into a conversation about his."

"Or," you said, flipping the grilled cheese onto a plate. "We use a tried and true method that boyfriends and girlfriends have used for thousands of years: food and sweet lovin'."

Eddie turned on the puppy eyes. "Do I get one? I'll tell you my birthday too, baby."

"I already know your birthday, big guy," you snorted, setting down another sandwich in front of him.

He pumped his fist. "Another victorious win."

You dusted your hands and leaned on the kitchen island.

"We can't pressure him. That'll only make him retreat,” you mused. “I just hope he doesn't not trust us or anything."

"Nah," Eddie assured around a mouthful of sandwich. "Maybe he's just not a birthday kinda guy."

The 733i pulled into the driveway, engine shortly cutting out. Then you heard Steve's footsteps up to the door and the key turning in the lock.

"Honey, you're home!" Eddie called gleefully.

Steve looked up, startled, then relaxed when he realized it was you two.

"Oh, hey. Robin said you came by. Sorry I missed you—Keith put me on this stupid delivery thing."

"No prob," Eddie said, rising and wiping his hands on his jeans. "We'd much rather have your undivided attention, hot stuff."

Before Steve could remove his uniform, Eddie pulled him into a deep kiss, hands sliding into the seat pockets of Steve's jeans. Steve stumbled from the intensity, clinging to Eddie's shoulders. He melted instantly. Eddie cupped the back of Steve's neck, coaxing out a whine.

"Eds," you groaned. “Come on.”

Steve, puffy-lipped and dazed, watched you with wide eyes as Eddie kept him near.

"What? Too much?"

"At least let him sit down before you suck face," you chided, pulling out a chair.

"Was just doing the sweet lovin' bit," Eddie mumbled.

Steve eagerly turned to you, clearly hoping for a match in affection. You gave in a little, since he'd had a bad day, but it was important to save the main goods for the interrogation.

"Eat," you ordered after pressing a few quick kisses to his lips. "Robin said you missed lunch."

"Snitch," he sighed, picking up the sandwich. "Wasn't that big of a deal."

"You already don't eat breakfast as often as you should. Do I need to come down here and force feed you pancakes every morning?"

"Well." Steve swallowed. "Not gonna say no."

“You are so lucky you’re cute.”

“How ‘bout me, baby?” Eddie beamed. “Am I cute too?”

“Oh, the cutest,” you cooed, pulling him down by his leather jacket collar and nipping playfully at his lips.

“Tease,” he complained.

“We’ll get there.”

Soon, Steve was down to the crusts of his sandwich. You propped yourself on your elbows, smiling sweetly.

“Want another? Or I can make you something else?”

Steve blinked, toast crumbs on his mouth. “I’m okay, baby. Thank you.”

Phase two. Eddie leapt up to herd Steve over to the couch under the guise of “helping” him take off his uniform. After washing and putting the plate back in the cupboard, you joined them, taking Steve’s other side. The TV was on, turned down low. Eddie gently finger-combed through the slight tangles in Steve’s hair. His lids had started to droop. You pressed a kiss behind Steve’s ear, cupping his chin. Then you traced the freckles on his collarbone, just resting your lips on him. He leaned into your touch.

“Everything okay, sweetie?” you asked mildly, not breaking your movements.

“Hmm? Yeah, everything’s fine,” Steve answered drowsily.

“Work’s okay?”

“Work’s fine. Jus’ today was a pain.”

“Buckley mentioned you haven’t been feeling your best,” Eddie said.

“Oh. Um, I dunno. I'm fine, really."

You glanced at Eddie, who nodded. Steve's hand was on your hip; not wanting anything, just feeling you.

"We heard it's your birthday soon."

The hand stiffened. You remained wrapped around Steve, wanting to keep the atmosphere light.

"Yeah," Steve admitted. "It is."

You kissed his cheek. “Did you wanna do anything for it?”

Steve shrugged shyly. “We don’t have to.”

“We want to,” Eddie said. “If you want to.”

Steve sat up, not looking at either of you. Meticulously, he cracked his knuckles, shoulders tense.

“‘S just, I never really celebrated my birthday. My… my dad said it was stupid to put so much on a day that comes every year. Said I didn't deserve it, most years. But he always wanted a gift for his birthday.”

You and Eddie stayed quiet, waiting for Steve to finish. He moved from his knuckles to a healing cut on his thumb, picking at it.

“I don’t think Tommy H even knew when my birthday was.” He laughed, but it sounded more like a choke. “I guess he wasn’t really a birthday guy either. He took Carol to the lake for her birthday, I remember.”

“We can go someplace for your birthday,” offered Eddie. “Take my van. I’ll even let ya sit up front, since you’d be the birthday boy and all.”

“No, no,” Steve scoffed. “Oh my God, no, that’d be dumb. Not–not that going someplace with you guys is dumb, just that making a big deal about it now would be dumb. I don’t want you guys to have to plan around my birthday.”

You put your hand on Steve’s before he tore his cuticle picking the cut. He looked at you and tried for a smile.

“Plus I didn’t give you a heads up or anything," he continued. "It’d be pretty much impossible to do something now.”

“That’s not—”

“Okay,” you cut Eddie off. “Okay, Steve. If you don’t want to do anything, we won’t. We were just wondering is all.”

He nodded, sucking on his lower lip. Eddie shot you a look behind Steve’s back. You held up a hand, shaking your head.

"Cool. Yeah, it’d just be too much work anyway. I get it. I’m gonna, um, shower. We can watch a movie…?”

You kissed Steve’s lips with a smile. “Think it’s Eddie’s turn to pick.”

He groaned. “Okay, but not Star Wars again. I can recite practically every line at this point.”

“A New Hope is peak cinema,” Eddie informed him. “But whatever. I suppose I can scrounge up something else.”

He waited until Steve disappeared down the hall before pouncing on you.

“What was that, baby?” he whined. “Pretty sure you made his hair deflate.”

“We’re going to give Steve a birthday he’ll never forget. And it couldn’t be a surprise if I told him, could it?”

Eddie’s lips spread into a slow grin. “Was this your plan all along?”

“I had to make sure Steve didn’t genuinely want a party,” you explained. “But I think it’s pretty clear he does. He’s just guilty about it.”

“That was some messed up shit his dad pulled,” Eddie sighed.

Steve didn’t like talking about his family much. They were usually away, including this month. You and Eddie slept over when they were gone—Steve hated being alone in his house.

The shower turned on. You leaned into Eddie, arms around his neck.

“So whaddya say, Eds? Ready to throw our boyfriend the best surprise party ever?”

“I’m following your lead, baby,” he said, bowing to meet your lips. “Let’s do it.”

This was not a good idea.

“Steve said not to break into his house again, Eds. That’s, like, his only rule.”

“This isn’t breaking in! We have keys. Besides, how can we keep this a surprise if we barge in like we own the place?”

“I don’t understand why we can’t just ask him his size.”

Eddie slid open the top dresser drawer. He rifled through socks for a moment, then moved on.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a man for his measurements?” he grinned. “And you need the pictures for the video.”

“Well, hurry up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You heard the front door open. Eddie froze.

“Shit,” you hissed. “Shit, shit.”

“I thought he wasn’t gonna be back till four. What do we do?” Eddie hissed.

“Okay, it’s fine,” you whispered. “I’ll distract him. Work fast.”

You hurried out to the hall, quietly shutting Steve’s bedroom door behind you. Steve was poking around in the fridge. Maybe you could hide? The drapes were long enough, right? Or behind the TV…

“Holy fuck!”

The bottles on the fridge door rattled as Steve flinched upon seeing you. He slammed the door too hard.

“Y/N, Jesus Christ. What are you doing here? I thought you were busy today.”

Steve had wanted to hang out today. You’d made up an excuse about housework. Eddie had faked pneumonia.

“H-hey, Steve. I was—I am busy. But, um… I needed a pan! A frying pan. Mine broke.”

He tilted his head. “You came to my house to steal a pan?”

“Yep. I reeeally need to fry stuff. Plus your mom buys the best cookware.”

“Uh… okay. Well, since you’re here, did you wanna do something? Eddie’s sick so I was thinking we could get lunch and bring it to him.”

You winced. Why did he have to be so sweet?

“I can’t. Any other day I would but I–I shouldn’t even be here, really. I’m sorry, baby.”

“Oh.” Steve nodded. You could tell he was trying not to look too dejected. Fuck.

“I’m sorry,” you said again.

“No, hey, you have things to do. I don’t expect you to drop it all for me.”

God, those big eyes were brutal. But you had to stick it out.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Steve asked, half smiling. “Try not to break my mom’s kitchen.”

He started to walk toward the hall. You raced to block him.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

Steve squinted. “I’m going to my room?”

“Your room?” you said loudly. “Steve is going to his room.”

“Y/N, are you feeling okay? Eddie said he has pneumonia. You didn’t catch anything, did you?”

“I feel fine, Steve. Are you sure you wanna go to your room?”

“Considering my clothes are in there, ideally, yes.”

“Cosmopolitan says changing in different rooms can be empowering.”

“Y/N,” he sighed. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing! What if your room is haunted?”

“What?”

You took Steve by his wrists and dragged him back to the island.

“Maybe you can try changing in the kitchen,” you shouted at the bedroom.

“Honey, you’re kinda freaking me out.”

“I–”

Eddie peeked around the corner, waving. He gave you a thumbs up. You jumped, causing Steve to look truly concerned.

“I,” you began. “Love you! Stevie, baby, I love you. You’re a dream. Keep it tight.”

“Huh?”

You kissed his cheek and backed towards the front door.

“Gotta go!”

“What about your pan?” he called.

“Eggs are overrated!” you rushed out, closing the door.

You bolted down the block where Eddie had parked, cutting through a neighbor’s lawn. Eddie was already in the van, engine running.

“You’d better have gotten those pictures,” you panted. “I ran.”

“Your efforts were not in vain, baby. Great vamping, by the way. You lost me with the haunted room, though.”

“Please drive. I can’t believe there isn’t a single brain cell among the three of us.”

“There is,” Eddie said. “‘S just Steve has it this week.”

“Call Dustin. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

“Does anybody have any questions?”

“I have a question,” said Max, raising her hand. “Who the hell is that?”

“This is Spider,” Eddie introduced. “He’s the one letting me borrow his projector and screen for the party.”

“Whassup, dawg?” Spider nodded, piercings glinting as he did so.

“You have a projector guy?” asked Robin.

“I know people,” Eddie defended. “I met Spider at one of my performances.”

“This dude shreds on guitar,” Spider said, then turned to you. “You’re a very lucky woman. I wish you all a lifetime of happiness.”

“Thanks, Spider.” You smiled awkwardly. “Okay, aside from Eddie's friend, any other questions?”

“How long am I keeping Steve occupied?” Robin asked.

“At least until eight. If you need an excuse, I can—”

“No, no,” she grinned, looking too pleased. “I’ll figure something out.”

“O…kay. Dustin, you know what you’re doing?”

“Absolutely,” he said, giving a thumbs up. “And here’s the tape.”

He handed you the video. You took it eagerly.

“Awesome. Now look: ultimately this is to give Steve a great birthday. So let’s focus on that, okay?”

“This is really cool what you’re doing, Y/N,” Lucas decided.

“It also helps that Steve’s no longer a douche,” added Mike.

“Hey,” scolded Eddie. “Watch it, Wheeler.”

“Uh, fellas?” said Robin, who had one of the curtains parted. “Did anybody tell Steve to come over?”

“What?” you yelped, rushing to the window. “Eds, did he call you?”

“Not since yesterday, baby. Gave the pneumatic performance of a lifetime.”

“Shit, shit. Okay, this is fine. It’s fine. Eddie, you’ve just gotta make him go away.”

“What? I’m supposed to be bedridden.”

“I’m sorry, honey, but you gotta. We’re at your trailer. It’ll look suspicious if I come out. Just pretend you’re getting better.”

“I’m no good at lying,” he whined. “Especially not to those baby browns. He’ll see right through me, sweetheart.”

“No, brother, you’ve totally got this,” said Spider. “Treat him like an old Fender. Gentle, but firm.”

Knock! Knock!

“It’s okay,” you added. “It’s only until the end of the week. Here.”

You threw a knitted throw around Eddie’s shoulders.

“What do I even say?” he whispered.

“You’ve been dating for three months,” Robin hissed. “It’s Steve.”

“I don’t need that attitude, Buckley.”

“Eddie?” came Steve’s voice. “Babe, you there?”

Eddie hacked a cough, jiggling the lock.

“Here,” he croaked, pulling open the door. “Steve?”

“Hey," Steve said brightly. "How do you feel?”

“Uh, sick,” Eddie started weakly. “S-so sick. Achoo!”

“Oh.” You winced at Steve’s soft tone. “Okay, that’s cool. I was just—sorry, this is silly but uh, Y/N’s been acting really weird and I dunno, I just haven’t seen you guys much this week. Are we good? That night, with the birthday thing…”

“Yes!” Eddie blurted too loud. “Everything’s good. Everything’s amazing. We haven’t even thought about your birthday.”

Ouch. You didn’t have to see Steve’s face to know what a crash and burn that was.

“Oh. Uh, right. So…” You heard the front steps creak. “Wait, whose bikes are those?”

“What?” Eddie squeaked. “Oh, p-probably some kids left 'em. You know kids, always leaving their shit everywhere.”

“That one kinda looks like Dustin’s…”

“Nope, don’t think so!”

“Eds,” Steve sighed. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Y/N but, like, I wish you’d talk to me instead of making things up. Y/N said she needed to borrow a pan and Robin’s been acting super weird this week. Dustin won’t even come into the store. Everybody’s walking on eggshells around me and—”

He stopped, eyes wide. Eddie pulled the throw tighter.

“Are you… are you guys breaking up with me?”

“What? No! God no, Steve, we’re not breaking up with you. It’s just—we’re just…”

“Yeah?” Steve asked, hopeful.

“...Busy,” Eddie finished lamely. “Really busy.”

“And sick,” Steve said coldly. “Right.”

“Baby…”

“No, it’s—” Steve held up a hand. “It’s fine. Whatever. I’ll see you later. Or not. Tell Dustin hi.”

You covered your face with your hands when the door slammed. It took Steve less than a minute to leave, his car soon rolling out of the park.

“Munson. Dude. No bueno,” Spider said, eyes wide.

“I know!” he cried, tearing the throw off. “Fuck, I know, I know, it was terrible. I’m terrible. And so close to his birthday, God…”

“No, no. Eds, I haven’t been much better,” you said. “I was so caught up in keeping this a surprise…”

And now Steve didn’t even want to see you.

“It’s okay, guys,” Dustin assured. “Steve’ll forgive you once it comes together.”

“He was so hurt,” Eddie cringed. “God, maybe we should just call it off.”

“No,” Robin said firmly. “No way. I have covered for that dingus too many times to let it all go to shit. He’s head over heels for you both. He’ll understand.”

You turned to Eddie with a frown. He pulled you into a hug, kissing the top of your head.

“Whaddya think, Eddie?”

“I think Buckley’s right, sweetheart. Steve’ll understand. He’s just taking it hard ‘cause it’s his birthday.”

“Yeah?”

“I hope so,” he chuckled. “Or I’ll have faked pneumonia for nothing. Plus think about how worth it it’ll be to see the look on his face.”

Eddie was right. Steve deserved this. He deserved a birthday to remember. You had to pull through.

“Okay,” you said. “What time does Party City close?”

“Can I have a taste? Pleeeaaase?”

“For the thousandth time, no!” You moved the mixing bowl away from Eddie’s wandering hands. “You’ll have some soon enough. Why don’t you help the kids with the decorations?”

“I was actually banned from the yard, if you can believe it. Apparently there is such a thing as too many balloons.”

You rolled your eyes. “Take a brownie. One. As compensation.”

Eddie happily took the confection, immediately getting fudge icing and sprinkles on his nose. He took a bite and groaned, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

“Shit, these are good, baby. He’s gonna love these.”

“Yeah? It’s a new recipe.”

“Hell yeah, angel. Are you gonna make these for my birthday?”

“If you’re good,” you winked, wiping frosting from his lip. “Here, help me decorate the cake. This one’s cooled.”

You had smoothly iced the top of the red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting. In delicate cursive, you’d already written Happy birthday with blue icing. You handed Eddie the piping bag.

“Here, write his name.”

“Shit, okay, I got this.”

Eddie took the bag with both hands, sticking his tongue out in concentration. His aim wasn’t as careful as yours, so the message ended up saying Happy birthday, sTeVE baBY!!!

“Hm. Think he’ll be able to tell who wrote what?”

You bit your lip, leaning into his chest.

“That’s okay, honey. Adds personality. Now, please.” You took the piping bag back. “Please go make sure Spider and the kids aren’t tearing up the Harringtons’ lawn.”

“Very well. I shall return,” he said in his best dungeon master voice. “Save me a cupcake!”

You put the last layer of the birthday cake into the oven. Then the phone rang.

“Harrington residence.”

“Hey there, best girlfriend in the world,” came Robin’s voice. “Are you guys almost done setting up?”

“Almost,” you said, checking the clock. “Give us another half hour. Everything okay with Steve?”

“Yeah, it’s cool. I jimmied the lock to the supply closet and made him think he’s locked in.”

“You what?”

“It’s fine!” she insisted. “He’s just pissed. He’s not, like, having a breakdown or anything.”

“Robin,” you sighed. “That’s not what I meant when I said keep him at work.”

“No, it’s cool. He’s—oh, he’s trying to kick down the door. Gotta go. We’ll be there in thirty minutes!”

Thirty minutes passed in a blur. Spider, oddities aside, got the projector running smoothly. You gave him a half dozen cupcakes and twenty bucks. He bowed deeply, kissed Eddie’s rings, and left. Joyce Byers had generously helped you with the dinner, and as soon as the cake was complete, you warmed the chicken.

“He’s here!” came Will’s voice, who’d been assigned lookout. “He’s here! Places, guys.”

Everyone filed out to the backyard. You and Dustin turned on the projector while Eddie and the others pulled out the screen. You heard them walk through the pool gate with Robin talking louder than usual to signal her entrance.

“...Keith definitely needs to get those locks changed,” Steve was saying.

“You’re so right. We’ll call him first thing tomorrow. Or maybe you could be less of a dingus and not get locked in next time.”

“I have never gotten locked in before! Robin, why won’t you let me inside my house?”

"It's a secret," she grinned.

"Robin, look, I really don't feel up to this. My week has kinda been a bummer and—"

"Steve.” She turned his head to the screen. "Just watch."

The projector clicked on, tape rolling. The screen was blank for a moment before switching to the video.

“What am I saying?” Max had been impatient when you’d caught her after school to record her part.

“It’s his birthday. Say what you’d tell him on his birthday,” you urged from behind the camera.

She looked at the camera, sighing.

“Fine. Hi, Steve. Uh, happy birthday. You’re twenty, right? Practically an old man. Don’t break a hip. Somebody’s gotta watch out for us shitheads.” She smiled then, rolling her eyes. “Guess you’re alright, though. Happy birthday.”

“Hi, Steve.” Joyce Byers sweetly waved at the camera. “Y/N and Eddie are here. They asked me to say a few words to you on your birthday. You guys are such dolls.”

“Mrs. Byers—” you said offscreen. “If you could talk to Steve…?”

“Oh, right. Steve, I know we don’t know each other well, but I’ve heard a lot about you and how you’ve grown into a very nice young man. Thank you for keeping my sons safe, and for protecting the kids. Happy birthday!”

Steve stared, eyebrows to his hairline. His lips were parted, eyes never leaving the screen as Robin herded him into a chair.

“Steve, buddy, hi!” Dustin beamed on screen. “You’re turning twenty, that’s awesome! Um, I wanna say that you’re really cool and you’re like one of my best friends now. Also, Y/N and Eddie did all this and they’re awesome. Please don’t be mad at them for being weird this week—they’ve just been planning hard for your party.”

The others had begun to trickle out of hiding. You and Eddie were slow in joining, not wanting to interrupt the video.

“Harrington,” came Hopper’s firm voice. “Heard you’re turning twenty. I better not get any calls about being drunk and disorderly.” His expression softened into what could almost be called a smile. He nodded at you and Eddie behind the camera. “Glad you’ve found a better crowd to run with. Happy birthday.”

You stepped out fully. Steve’s gaze landed on you and Eddie. His eyes were glassy.

“Happy birthday, Steve,” El, Lucas, and Mike yelled. “Hope it’s awesome!” she added.

“Hey,” you whispered.

“Hey,” Steve said, equally as soft. “How did—what—”

“Happy birthday, dingus!” Robin sang on film. “Okay, wait. Look at them for a second.” She shifted the camera around, panning it around to you and Eddie.

“Robin!” you squealed on camera, trying to push it back around. “Speak to him!”

“No, you guys should get a feature too. Steve, these two love you so much and you’d better not fuck it up because they really are the best.”

She turned it back to her, smiling.

“Now I’ll say my piece: you’re my best friend. Not to get sappy and shit, but you’re a good guy and you deserve good things. Happy birthday.”

The tape rolled to a stop. You held your breath. A tear slipped down Steve’s cheek. Eddie was quick to swipe it away from his thumb.

“Babe,” Eddie murmured. “Is–is this okay?”

“Okay?” Steve choked. “Okay?”

“We know,” Eddie continued, grimacing, “that we’ve been acting fucking weird but only because we wanted this to be a surprise. We’re real sorry, babe.”

“Don’t—Jesus, don’t be sorry—” Steve gasped, stumbling forward.

He threw both arms over you and Eddie. You hugged him back hard, kissing his shoulder.

“Happy birthday, big guy,” Eddie said.

“We love you so much,” you added. “Happy birthday, Stevie.”

“You guys did this all for me? I thought…shit.”

Steve sniffed, rubbing his eyes. Eddie kissed him first, then you went. Steve gasped into your mouth, overwhelmed.

“You okay?” you murmured, cupping his cheeks. “Not too much?”

“No. It’s perfect. It’s—God, a single cupcake would’ve been great. You didn’t have to do all this.”

“We wanted to! We love you! I love Steve Harrington and Y/N L/N!” Eddie shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Eds,” you scolded laughingly, tugging his arm. “You’ll wake the neighbors, quit!”

Eddie pulled Steve in by his waist.

"Let 'em complain. Our favorite guy's birthday is today."

You led Steve and the others back into the house. There, you began to dish out the food. Steve stayed close as you and Eddie helped the kids serve themselves. The dining room had been decorated with pictures of Steve. With you, with Eddie, with Robin, at school, in the summer, whatever photos you could find.

“These were what we had to get a few days ago,” you explained.

“That’s why a bunch of photos are missing from my room,” Steve said.

“Yeah, Eddie’s no James Bond, clearly,” you laughed. “But we… well, we made the theme Memory. ‘Cause you haven’t really had any good birthdays. So we hope this’ll start a new line of memories.”

Steve bit his lip, rubbing his eye.

“Please don’t cry, handsome,” Eddie pleaded, wiping another stray tear from Steve’s cheek. “This is supposed to be happy.”

"No, I am happy. You two always bring life into this house," Steve murmured. "You make it feel like home."

You covered the pans and pulled your boys near.

"Well, we can do this as much as you want. Eddie and I will cook anytime you like, honey."

"I cooked," Eddie said proudly. "I also did some decorating. Shit, your present!"

Steve's eyes widened. "My present? This wasn't it?"

"No, duh. We had to get you a gift, obviously."

"You didn't have to—"

"But we wanted to," you interrupted, silencing Steve with a kiss. "Will you let us spoil you?"

Eddie gave Steve a gift bag stuffed with his favorite newspaper funnies.

"A jacket?” Steve gasped. "Eddie, it’s…”

"Now we can match," Eddie said giddily. "Y/N has jeans to complete the set."

Eddie had customized the back of the jacket with a mix of his, yours, and Steve's favorite patches. On the sleeve it said bestest birthday boy!!!! He'd also patched on a heart that said S.H. hearts E.M. + Y.N.

"You looked so good in Eddie's vest," you slyly grinned. “Hawkins won’t survive with you killing in denim.”

"Okay, well, I hope you know you're only giving me a giant ego, so," Steve announced.

"It's your birthday," Eddie shrugged. "We can afford it."

"Hey, are we eating or what!" shouted Dustin.

"Eat, eat, we'll be there in a sec," you called back.

"Probably making out in the kitchen," you heard Robin mutter.

Steve took your and Eddie's hands in his. He sniffed, smiling wide.

"Thank you. Really. This is—this is the most special thing anybody's ever done for me."

"Good," you said, kissing his temple. "You deserve this and more."

"Yeah, and just so you know," Eddie added. "This is only the beginning. Now that we know your birthday, you're not escaping us, Harrington."

"Oh?" Steve laughed bashfully, apple-cheeked and glowing. "How on earth are you gonna top this one?"

You and Eddie grinned at each other.

"It’s a surprise.”

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