#always wanting a teaching job or a nannying job or

[thisbibliomaniac]

the most unstable person you've ever met: I can't wait to work full-time with children :)

[lilghostiequinni]

Overnight Stays and Chicken Nuggets

Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Nanny!female reader x Single Dad!Lando Norris

Warnings: Fluffy,

Summary: As the nanny to a former Formula One driver, you often stay at his house rather than going home because he gets in late or is gone for the weekend

Requested: NO / yes

Lando was offered the job as team principal of McLaren after he announced his retirement from the car. While it didn't make his wife happy, she understood that F1 was always going to be his passion.

They had a son, then a daughter, then twin boys, and another daughter.

But with the birth of their last daughter, there were complications; Lando lost his wife, and their kids lost their mother.

About 2 years after the death of his wife, Lando's mum was able to convince him to hire a nanny to help take care of his children and give them a schedule that wasn't messed up every time he had to go to a race.

That's where you come in. Lando interviewed hundreds of nannies and mannies, but none really seemed qualified; they weren't good enough or just wanted to meet Lando Norris.

But in came you, you didn't watch the sport so you really didn't know him that well and you had gone to school for early childhood development and school teaching.

You also used your first career choice of nursing to put yourself through college with your triple major in Early Childhood Development, Teaching, and World Languages & Culture, with minors in History and Science.

You had the compelling features that knew how to care for his children and help in any big emergancy.

When he hired you, it was over a two-week break in racing, so he was able to watch you for a couple days before having to go to McLaren Headquarters ahead of the next race.

You had told him of the twins that you were taking care of, them having been children of your now deceased sister, and how you were in the process of adopting them.

Lando had no qualms about bringing them as long as you could take care of the twins, to which you told them they were almost ten years old.

Making it easier to take care of.

You wouldn't admit to anyone that in almost the year you had been working for him, you had developed this crush on Lando but pushed it down to focus on your job.

One race week, Lando was supposed to be home about an hour ago but hadn't arrived, and while his older children relatively understood, well, the best they could for nine, seven, and five-year-olds.

But the almost three-year-old was a bit harder to console and get ready for bed, which was normal; she didn't like going to bed.

So, you stayed in her room with her, reading any book she wanted for a good hour.

The little girl said, "Goodnight, Mommy," as you closed the door, and when you turned, you ran into Lando's chest.

You tried to correct the mistake for Lando, but he didn't have it.

He pulled you to his home office and pushed you against the door, closing it with your back as he pushed you against it, then pulled you in for a kiss.

A/N: I think I like this better than the school teacher one. I could add a Part 2, if it's wanted.

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @ellen3101 @llando4norris @mcmuppet @issi-loves-dannyric @1800-love-me @barcelonaloverf1life @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || 1.1

[here] | 1.2 | 1.3 | 1.4 | 1.5

ah hello hello :) i have finished chapter two and started into chapter three so i’m comfortable with starting to post the first chapter. idk how many parts each chapter will be, but after i finish posting all of each chapter, i will post the entire chapter on ao3.

i’ll be posting each chapter after i finish another one, so i’ll post chapter two after i finish writing chapter 3, so i always am one chapter ahead :)

this started because @/lexirosewrites followed me ages ago and i was possessed to write an omegaverse fic because of it, as a gift :D hope you enjoy <3

anyway, i think i’ve probably gone on a bit too long now, so enjoy chapter one, part one of stuck in your throat! it’s a bit short, but the next one is like almost 2k so i think it’ll even out :b

Steve sighed as he stared blearily at the screen in front of him, meticulously scanning his resume for what could have been the hundredth time. He needed it to be absolutely perfect before he sent it to any potential employers. He knew he didn’t have the most experience, given that the entirety of his knowledge of nannying came in the form of babysitting Dustin and his friends. Steve hardly counted that, considering the pups were almost all high school age at the time. Even if they were a bit much to deal with at the best of times.

Steve hoped that the fact he went to school to get his teaching license would make him stand out as a candidate.

“You’ve made it as perfect as you can.” Robin said from behind Steve, causing the omega to startle.

“Jesus, wear a bell or something.” he muttered with a grumpy glare in the alpha’s direction. He looked back at his laptop screen and sighed deeply. “No one’s gonna hire some washed up omega,” he threw his arms over his face, speaking with a whine. Robin plopped on their couch next to him and peered at the laptop screen curiously. She took it off Steve’s lap while ignoring his half-hearted protests. She scanned over it with a hum.

“You’re right,” she said with a firm nod, “no one wants to hire some washed up omega.” Steve gaped at her in shock and hurt, until Robin continued. “Good thing you’re applying, so they don’t have to!”

Steve scrunched his face up at her, sticking his tongue out. “Oh, shut the fuck up.”

“Oh, ho ho ho!” Robin said, squinting at the screen with a grin. “Looks like someone’s hiring a fulltime nanny and tutor!” she skimmed over the job ad and nodded firmly. “Apparently you’ll have to sign NDAs to work for them.” her eyes widened as she continued reading the advert. “And traveling? Sounds like exactly what you need. I’m sending your application to them.”

“What? Rob, no! I’m not done with my resum—” Steve scrambled to take the laptop from her.

“Too late!” Robin said, allowing the omega to take the laptop back.

“Robbie!” Steve whined, looking at the ‘thank you for your application!’ message that had popped up on the screen.

“What? You’ve been staring at your resume for like, six hours! It’s almost two in the morning!” she justified, feeling no remorse for pushing her friend to apply somewhere. “You weren’t going to do it, so I had to take matters into my own hands.”

Steve huffed and glared at her for a moment longer before looking at where she sent the application to. “Robbie, this looks like a perfect way to get trafficked,” he said flatly. “I mean, what kind of employer requires an NDA to be signed before they tell you who you’re working for?”

Robin shrugged, then leaned over and scrolled down to point out how much he could potentially make. “I dunno, but I’ll be with you every step of the way because that amount of money…” she whistled, flopping back into the couch.

Steve rolled his eyes, “Any place that requires an NDA probably won’t hire me, Robs. I’ve got no experience.”

“Yet!” Robin insisted, frowning at Steve. “No experience doesn’t mean you’re bad at it!”

“I could be! I don’t know!”

“You won’t be, dingus. Any pup will be better off if you’re their nanny.” Robin said in a rare moment of sincerity. Steve sighed and rolled his eyes fondly.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, but no less sincere. “Now help me pick a few other places to apply to.” he grumbled, knowing that Robin was right.

Someone would hire him, it was only a matter of time.

follow the tag #stuck in your throat or #siyt 🎤 to get notified when i post an update. i might do a tag list, but i make no promises because that seems stressful. i’ll only tag 18+ blogs, so either verify in the tags you’re 18+ or have it in your bio.

[l33bang24]

OMG It’s You… (Part 10)

YouTube!Fem reader x Stray Kids

Summary: Y/N’s YouTube channel is taking off after her reactions to Stray Kids MV God’s Menu. Now she’s making videos nonstop along with working a full time job. What would happen if she got offered a job of a lifetime and met the boys of her succession?

⚠️Warnings⚠️: sadness, crying, early stages of homesickness??, Chan being turned on🤭, (lmk if I missed anything)

🏷️ : @laylasbunbunny @weirdowithaphone @silverstarburst @jusanontstuff @anxiousskylar @drewsandsebastianswife @amararosesblog @niaalove (Taglist open)

Series Masterlist

(Authors note at the end)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

Hearing my alarm clock, I roll over to shut it off. I had a surprisingly restful night's sleep, although I needed to take a second melatonin as the first one didn't help. Fortunately, the airport is conveniently located near my accommodation, and the journey there should only take about 5-10 minutes. After reviewing my flight details, I realized the total travel time would be almost 19 hours. Despite the long journey, I'm relieved there's only one layover before I board the second flight to Seoul.

As I start getting dressed and closing up all my bags, I take one last look around the room, which has brought me comfort and has been the starting point of my journey. Leaving behind a place with special memories is always a bittersweet moment. I know I could still come back and visit, but for now, this was goodbye. I smile, happy that I'm going outside my comfort zone to do something I'm passionate about. As I look around, I bring my bags to the front door.

I had to wake up earlier than planned because my flight was unexpectedly early. My family decided to get up with me to give me a proper send-off. The others were coming to the airport to say one last goodbye. I walked into the kitchen and found my grandmother preparing breakfast for everyone. Seeing my grandfather awake was a pleasant surprise, as his sleeping pattern is usually worse than mine.

“I made breakfast for all of us to eat for the last time together.” I smile at her and thank her for the food. “You know, maybe sometime after I get settled in, you can visit. See South Korea with me. I can also come home anytime I want.” I take her hand and his in mine, I reassure them, "I'm not disappearing forever. I promise to visit as much as I can." They hold on tighter, expressing their sadness at not always seeing me. "I'll have to show him how to FaceTime you," my grandmother says.

“Hey! I know how FaceTime works.”

“Oh really? Then where is it on your phone?”

“Same place it's always been in.” Their playful behavior never fails to bring a smile to my face. I think I'll miss this the most.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As I prepared to leave, my family gathered to spend some final moments with me. One by one, they came up to say their heartfelt goodbyes.“Hey, Y/N/N, you better not be a stranger now. I don’t want to come there myself to teach you a lesson.” I roll my eyes at my stepbrother’s goodbye. “I love you too, man.” My stepsister is next to come up and hug me. “Send me pictures, yeah? And let me know if you meet any cute guys over there. I wanna know all about it!” I smile, her not knowing I’m already talking to two of them. “Hey now! If you meet any guys, I’mma need their information. That means their name, date of birth, social security number, everything!”

“I’m not giving you anything!” I retort back to my stepbrother. He, in return, shakes his head. My grandparents come up next, giving me their hugs and goodbyes. “Make sure you don’t eat a lot of junk food; you must maintain weight and stay healthy.”

“I will, Nanny; I love you.” She smiles, giving me a tight hug for a small woman. “You take good care of yourself. Since we won’t always have you to help us, Y/B/N must do it for us.” At that comment, my stepbrother exploded, saying how he gets left with my responsibilities of caring for my grandparents and how I need to come back more often to help them. I ignore him and move on to my grandfather.

“You stay safe now, okay? I want you to be able to defend yourself in case someone breaks into your apartment. Do you have your stuff?” I nod, telling him I do and giving him a big hug. I am telling him to take care of himself, and if he ever feels up to it, maybe I can get him and my grandmother a trip over to see me. My dad comes up and pulls me into a hug.

“I want you to call me when you get there, okay? So that way, I know you made it there safely.” My dad tells me. I smile, “I’ll call you when I get there, but you have to remember that I’ll be in a different time zone, so it may be late into the early morning hours before I call.”

“I don't care what time it is; as long as I get a phone call from my baby that she’s okay, I’ll be happy.” I hug him long and hard. Being one of my biggest supporters since I was little, it’s hard to say goodbye to him. I could feel my tears starting to surface. Last is my stepmom; she’s already got tears in her eyes, and mine is beginning to fall. She pulls me into a hug, and the water dam breaks.

As I realize that I won't get to see these amazing people every day, doubts start creeping in about whether this was the right decision in the first place.

When she pulls back, it’s like she’s reading my mind. “I understand that it can be daunting to think about not seeing us every day. However, if you don't step out of your comfort zone, you'll never be able to explore the world as you've always wanted. You will surely be missed, and although your dad and I are homebodies, we'll come to visit you. We love you immensely and want nothing but the best for you. It's time to chase your dreams and become the person you've always wanted to be.” I nod my head and give her a tight hug.

I release her and gather my belongings, taking my first steps toward my new future. As I walk away, I look back at my family again. A stray tear rolled down my cheek as I bid them farewell with a wave. I turn back, holding my head high. I've committed myself to the fact that no matter what challenges come my way, I will never give up on pursuing my dream. Although my heart aches now, I know it will slowly heal with time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Welcome to Seoul, South Korea! It is currently 2:30 pm on August 16th.” My sleepiness drowned out the rest of the words. I usually don't sleep on planes, but I did this time. I grab my bag from above, leave the aircraft, and move towards the baggage area. Once receiving my luggage, I headed toward the exit, stopping to find something to eat since all I'd had were airplane snacks.

I discovered a cozy restaurant with a promising menu and went to a table, taking a seat to enjoy my meal. I eagerly indulged, savoring each bite as if it were my last. It was a relief to have some time before officially starting my new job the following week, allowing me to settle in and get organized. While I've already started my new job, I don't have to be on-site until next week.

I had compiled a list of essential tasks, including unpacking, stocking up on groceries, and setting up my new apartment. At that moment, my next priority was to arrange for an Uber to take me to the apartment complex where I would be staying.

After finishing my meal, I disposed of the food container and took out my phone to track the arrival of the Uber. I made a mental note to call my Dad once I reached the apartment. When the Uber arrived, I confirmed the driver's name, and they assisted me in loading my luggage into the vehicle.

I provided them with the address, and upon reaching my destination, I expressed my gratitude and proceeded inside to complete the check-in process. The attendant was incredibly friendly, and the paperwork was swiftly handled, allowing me to receive my keys promptly. I lugged my belongings into the elevator and ascended to the fourth floor.

As I reached my apartment door, I eagerly swung it open and lugged all my belongings inside. After securing the lock, a deep sigh escaped my lips. The long flight had left me utterly drained. I quickly dialed my dad's number and left a voicemail, letting him know I had arrived safely. Collapsing onto the nearby couch, I felt the exhaustion wash over me.

Although the temptation to drift off to sleep was strong, I knew I had things to take care of. I reluctantly pushed myself off the comfortable couch, picked up my luggage, and carried it to my room. I was fortunate to have found a spacious two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment with a convenient washer and dryer combo.

I surveyed the array of living essentials I had recently acquired, realizing that I also needed to stock up on groceries. Choosing to address this need immediately, I retrieved my purse and keys and left my apartment, locking the door behind me. Having previously researched nearby markets, I headed to the closest one and embarked on a shopping trip that lasted 30 minutes to an hour.

Upon returning home with bags of groceries, I meticulously organized and stored each item in the kitchen. Subsequently, I assembled the furniture and set up my home office, methodically putting together the bed, nightstand, and desk. As I progressed through these tasks, everything seemed to fall into place seamlessly. However, as the day turned to evening and fatigue began, I succumbed to exhaustion.

After ensuring the door was securely locked, I went to the shower. I was thankful I had taken a shower earlier, as I was too tired to rewash my hair that night. Following my usual evening routine, I finally collapsed into bed. Before drifting off to sleep, I sent a good night message to my family, locked my phone, and surrendered to the beckoning of slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The week flew by, and I was pleased to find that the rest of my belongings had arrived in the same condition as when they were picked up. I made a mental note to thank the CEO of the moving company for their excellent service. My coworkers kindly came over to assist me in moving all the furniture upstairs and arranging it in the best possible positions.

I appreciated the support of others as I tackled the challenge before me. It was satisfying to see everything arranged just as I had envisioned. Adapting to the time change this week has been quite a feat. It's a new experience for me, and although it's been difficult, I'm confident I'll adapt in due time. I've taken the opportunity to explore, but I've been cautious as I don't know anyone here. Watching crime shows has made me more vigilant about my surroundings, and I'm hesitant to engage with unfamiliar individuals.

I could sense that the guys were starting to get suspicious of me because I'd changed my usual texting routine and avoided their calls. I know I'm not improving things, but I have a video next week to explain what's happening. I'm just holding out until the video is ready to be released. Until then, they will have to wait a bit longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Third Person POV

The men had every reason to feel wary. It seemed as though she was privy to information that they were not. The other members could sense the shift in their elders, but none were willing to confront the issue. They chose to ignore the obvious problem rather than address it. Chan decided to step aside and call Y/N. He hadn't informed any of the others, especially Minho. He felt guilty for concealing such an innocent action but wanted to keep this secret longer.

Y/N had been behaving unusually lately. She confided in him that she was going through some changes that were causing her stress and exhaustion. He was concerned but didn't want to pressure her. When she answered his call after the second ring, she sounded cheerful as always. "Hi, Channie!" she greeted him with a tone that flushed his face at the affectionate nickname. "Hey, Y/Nnnie, how have you been? I haven't heard from you much," he inquired. Her laughter on the other end was sweet and infectious. "I'm doing fine. I was actually on my way to work," she replied. Confusion crossed his face. 'Work? Shouldn’t she be in bed by now?’ he inquires.

Not realizing she was calling for him. "What do you mean work? I thought you would be in bed by now?" Y/N freezes as she realizes her mistake. She berates herself, thinking, 'Stupid, stupid, stupid,' while hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Ah, well, I'm not uhh… I mean, I am I….URGHHH!” The moment her brain decides to take a break is precisely when she needs it the most. Chan is completely bewildered now, eagerly waiting for her response.

After a moment of collecting her thoughts, she finally admits something. “Look, there may have been some major changes in my life right now, and I wanted to surprise you when the time was right. I have a video coming out today that will explain everything. That's all I can tell you.” Chan nods his head, then forgets he isn't FaceTiming her. “Okay, love. I'll be patient and wait for your video. Afterward, I expect no more hiding things, okay?”

“Yes, sir, you have my word.” Chan shouldn't have been affected by those words, but coming from her, it felt like a shock just went through his body. “Anyways, I have to go, Channie; we’ll talk later, yeah?” After they said their goodbyes, Chan returned to the room with a huge smile and a semi-hard in his pants.

(A/N: I couldn't help myself; I had to do it. Also, I put in a sad, departing moment with the family. I hope you all enjoyed it and look forward to the next chapter!)

[suugarbabe]

hey! can you please do headcannons or a blurb about mafia!enzo

mafia!enzo is one of my favorite enzo's so pls enjoy with your whole heart dear nanny <3

(tw: mentions of violence; mentions of sexual behavior)

mafia!enzo makes you curious, mainly because he's so hard to read

he's perceived as one of the quiet ones in the family, usually standing in the back, not saying much

but that's because mafia!enzo essentially always has a job to do

and that is to be the family protector, the enforcer, the punisher if you will

while his sharp jawline and charming smile can easily fool those he's talking to, inside he's analyzing

every word, every movement, every change in behavior in case he has to flip that switch inside him and do what he does best

which is essentially make men, traitors, and those unneeded alike beg for their lives before he slowly drains them of breath

when he does allow himself some time for pleasure, you wouldn't believe how much of a pleaser he is

you would think with his family responsibility and his hyper focus on protecting that he would be more likely just to get in a quick fuck

but oh how mafia!enzo wants to please

wants to be praised

wants to hear the soft sighs and whimpers leave your lips as his face is buried between your thighs

lapping, licking, sucking until you're shaking

fingers fisted in his dirty blonde waves, pulling until his scalp burns

until he feels the pain mixed with your pleasure

but please understand, mafia!enzo is not a relationship guy, because those don’t last and those that do last end up in tragedy

mafia!enzo grew up in a very loving home; both parents around to encourage him to be the best version of him they could be

but they were taken from him during the second wizarding war quite violently

and it was then that mafia!enzo vowed no one he cared about would ever be taken from him again

which is why he started teaching himself the darkest of magics, reading ancient scripts and scrolls, teaching himself wandless spells that haven't been used for centuries

and also how he got the job he did for the family

everyone serves a purpose

and mafia!enzo's purpose is to protect and kill as he and mafia!boss mattheo see fit.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Let me just say I love your writing. And I have a request! Skellies of your choice, with a s/o who's the heir to the throne of monsters. Their the only child of Asgore and Toriel who lived to adulthood. And because both of their siblings are “dead” this makes them the future Queen/king of monsters. They are trying to help their future kingdom and monsterkind best they can, but they're really reserved and do it from the background. I hope you have a good day or night <3

Undertale Sans - He's the nanny lol. The King and Queen have a lot of things to do for their duty, unlike Sans, who doesn't have much to do all day long. He loves the kid, he's always a bit excited when he gets to spend some time with them. Since Papyrus is working, it helps him to not feel too lonely, and he can teach the kid a lot of things. Well, not all of these things are good things, he's still a prankmaster, but he's still teaching them. He missed being a big brother.

Undertale Papyrus - He's the official sports coach for the royal heir with Undyne and he's so excited about it. Turns out they are awful teachers and every session turns horribly wrong, like that time Undyne decided to test the prince's survival instincts by throwing them from a cliff, and Papyrus, horrified, jumped right behind the child. And then Undyne, excited... Jumped as well. They all crashed in the trees but more importantly with no way to return and had to camp there for three days...

Underswap Sans - He's not too close to the royal family anymore since he's on the Surface, it's more his brother's thing. However, he's the kid personal security guard when Alphys is not available, so they bonded through the little time they got to spend together. Blue likes the kid and thinks they will be a great King/Queen later. He saw their soul, they're a good kid.

Underswap Papyrus - He's the kid's nanny as well, but he was quite the obvious choice to the royal family as Honey loves kids and most of the kids in the Underground always ran to him when they had problems. Honey is their second father. He's part of their education, and he's taking care of them whenever the King and Queen are busy. Even once all grow up, Honey is still very protective of that baby he saw grow up. He's going to cry so much the day they'll take the throne.

Underfell Sans - So, Toriel has trust problems and decided that when she's out in town, he would take care of the child, without really asking him if he wanted that or not. Red is so scared of what will happen to him if something happens to the child that he doesn't bond that much with them. He keeps a safe distance at all times. Even if Toriel is way better than what Asgore used to be, she still has some of his manners and he's not too fond of them.

Underfell Papyrus - He's the child combat instructor and he's always excited to train them and teach them what he learned younger. He actually loves it so much that there's a chance he might try to find a job similar to this on the surface. He will make sure the kid is the best fighter ever, and he won't stop training them until they are able to go harass Undyne in her own house and beat her ass up for no reason. He will cheer so much the day it will happen.

Horrortale Sans - If it's Toriel's kid, it's family, so there's a high chance Oak considers them as some sort of nephew. Well, of course, being king or queen doesn't mean that much in their situation, so... At least it's a fresh beginning. He's just happy to have a kid running in the farm and getting excited on the small things. Someone who is not even judging added to that because well, they grew up seeing them all the time, so.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's the kid's second mom. Toriel can be pretty tired sometimes, and when it happens, he's there to take care of the child. He lectures them when he needs to, and tries to educate them on many subjects, particularly on how to help on the farm, or be nice to others, or cooking sessions! He's very proud of them as they grow up to be very kind and reasonable, and he knows it's a little thanks to him.

Swapfell Sans - He's kinda relieved because it means Toriel doesn't consider him anymore as her heir and that's the best news ever. However, she ordered him to be the heir's private teacher... He was not too enthusiastic about that at first, but the kid is nothing like Toriel, and eventually, Nox grew too attached. He's hoping a little as well that he can make them a better ruler than their mother. A lot of things need to change in the monarchy, he wants to help them to realize it.

Swapfell Papyrus - He's forbidden to go near the child lol. Toriel hates him and considers him a traitor so... That doesn't prevent him from being the annoying uncle when the kid is training with Nox at home, pranking the kid and his brother just to get a reaction. And yes, maybe he's jealous of all the attention the kid gets from his brother.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He's declared public enemy because the royal family is too scared he might kill the heir to take the throne or manipulate them to gain access to it. He has no contact with the heir whatsoever because the King and Queen know he's a little shit, that he is NOT trustworthy, and that it's best he stays very far away. That doesn't prevent Wine from pulling stings in the background so the heir meets people he wants to meet :) But the royal family doesn't need to know that.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Because of his brother, he's not authorized to get near. Unfortunately for the royal family, the heir somehow got attached to Coffee and escaped the castle a few times a week to visit him. Coffee is freaking out every time it happens both because he's scared Wine will do something to them, and because he's terrified the King and the Queen will have his head if they caught him with the kid. Why can't he be a normal introverted guy locked in his room doing nothing? He doesn't want to get involved with politics, but politics somehow always finds him!

[madaboutmunson]

Are You Experienced?

Rating: Mature Words: 26K Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Warnings & Tags:

AO3 Link Team 117 for @steddiebang 2023 Author: @madaboutmunson Artist: @danadaria Beta: @house-of-chant Cheerleader : @atmilliways (unofficial but I am super grateful for your help so didn't want to miss you out!) Summary:

Everyone knows Steve Harrington, a local rich kid jock, the previous king of Hawkins High School. He's got it all, money, a respectable family, and chicks love him. He's even spending the summer learning what it's like to be a real working man before taking on a role in his Dad's firm because its builds character and empathy. Or is he something else entirely?

Is Steve a down-on-his-luck guy, stuck in a job he dislikes because his dad is teaching him a lesson, repeatedly striking out with the ladies, that his co-worker is fond of reminding him about?

Under all the many layers and masks, he uses to survive the day-to-day, Steve has secrets. The main one is how passionately he loves music. How it moves him in ways nothing else does, and he's sure no one else could possibly feel the same, until his Mom gives him $50 to spend at the new record store. Notes: I sincerely hope you enjoy this story and the artwork for this fic. I really loved writing it, and I really loved the Steddie community I became part of because of this event. It has changed me forever. You're all so awesome. Huge thanks to my artist who not only claimed my fic but also really understood our Steve's perspective in this. I can't believe how lucky I am to have @danadaria as part of my team! Also huge thanks to @house-of-chant for beta-ing my fic you rule! Thank you so much And also big shout out to @atmilliways who when I was getting nervous about my fic (it had been so long since I edited it (I completed my before claims lol)) gave it another read for me and restored my confidence in it! Thank you **********************************************************************

********************************************************************** It's the beat that got him first, or so his mom is fond of reminding him as she teased him a little over the foam on her cappuccino. A fond nostalgic expression washes over her usual business-like aura that mostly filled these private but public meet-ups.

Away from his Dad, essentially. Away from his judgemental outlook, away from his snide comments and homophobic jabs. Here, his mother was more his mom; they'd been doing this since Steve had been forced to find a job, and honestly, it's been the best thing to come out of this shitty situation so far. 

When he was a kid, they used to spend her days off together without him until he fucked that up for Steve too. The cheating. His wandering eyes, hands and dick meant his mom would leave and take him for everything he had, including Steve, but somehow he slimed his way back, citing addictions. He could change if his wife stood by him through his "sickness". The irony of reminding his mom of her wedding vows to make her stay after she'd found out about only the first of a long list of women he'd been banging was not lost on Steve. So now she had to follow his Dad everywhere, like his goddamn nanny. It was beneath her, she didn't have to do this, but she did. She'd be damned if she looked like she didn't try. 

Steve often wonders if that is because even though he hurt her irreparably, repeatedly, that some small tiny part of her still loved that pathetic excuse for a husband. They both would be happier if they'd just left him, though they never say it out loud, only in silent shared glances over dinner or when he pisses one of them off, and they just have to take it. Because now he's built himself a better legal team, and she knows they're stuck. But Saturday was golf day, and that was no place for a wife, apparently. Steve loathed him.

His Mom always offers to buy him lunch. Steve always declines. Says he's already eaten. He hasn't. He just wants to prove he can do this. He can work. He can survive. Then maybe his Dad would lighten up, stop busting his balls about college, give him a shitty job at his place, and then Steve would be set for life. Come to heel, fitting the mold, nine to five grind and staying on the right side of his trust fund and future inheritance.

Despite his eagerness for an easy life, Steve is the kind of guy that loves a challenge. He loves to prove people wrong about him, but carefully, quietly, because if he fails as he has numerous times, at least the only person who knows he was trying so hard is himself. But he'd be lying out of his ass, if he didn't admit at least to himself that it would be much nicer to live the privileged, pampered life rather than getting his confidence shattered multiple times a day, dressed as a fucking sailor pin-up.

"You were so funny, Stevie. Crawling the wrong way. Not being able to work out how to turn yourself around. Constantly bumping into things. Until, of course, you found your muse," She chuckles, and it warms Steve's heart because this is also something that only happens at these meetings. She genuinely laughs, and her smile reaches her eyes, making them twinkle like a starry, starry night. Not like the laugh at home, not the carefully curated laugh, the one that's calculated to not be too loud or too long, lest it irritates his Dad somehow. Steve had one, too for him. "Such a little dancer," his mom adds, nostalgia swimming in her eyes of happier times.

That was true. His Mom, Dad and Nanny all said the same about him. His Mom and Nanny with joy, his Dad with disgust. It was also true that Steve had lost his footing literally and figuratively many times over his life so far, and some of those times, the only person able to pick him up and dust him off was himself. But he had a secret weapon. He had music.

Lots of people like music. Some love it.Steve believed there was part of him that was almost a direct connection to it. Like he had music in him. Like the right song at the right time could plug into him and change him forever. Like part of him was controlled by it. He wasn't just moved by it physically, but emotionally too. He could put on his headphones alone at night, press play, and be transported elsewhere. Places, feelings, past, present, future and in the skin of someone else. Until he is swept up in it like an inescapable hurricane. Until Steve Harrington didn't exist for those few minutes.

"Glad to know I amused you at one point," he jokes and gives her a charming smile. It's almost natural, but she takes it. Looks around quickly before stretching across the table and squeezing his hand, and he feels the familiar paper push inside as she takes her hand away back to her coffee cup.

"Have you been to the record store here yet?" She takes a sip of her drink and glances up at it, "Looks a lot more modern than the one in town."

Steve pulls his hands into his lap and unfurls his fingers to reveal a fifty-dollar bill. He rolls his eyes, "Come on, Mom. I don't need this," he whispers, "I'm fine. I'm still at home. I'm making my own money. It feels kinda good, you know?"

Her happy expression falls, "You look tired, my little star." Her eyes meet his over the rim of her coffee cup. He knows how tired he looks, he sees it in the mirror every morning, and it's not from work. He is struggling post-high school. Things aren't as easy anymore. "Why don't you try the new place out? It's not far from work, right?" He glances over at Sam Goody's from where they are seated and is tempted, but there are reasons he's been avoiding it. "You know you are never happier than when you get to add to your collection. Tell him you got a big tip or something if he bothers to ask you. Once I'm home, I'll put my rollers in before he gets back, and he'll think I had my hair done. So don't worry." Steve half smiles and guiltily casts his eyes to the table between them. This will be their last lunch for a while.

"Thanks. If everything goes ok, I'll check it out after my shift." And he will. Steve tries to stick to his word as best he can, at least endeavours to be better than his Dad at it anyway, which, honestly, takes little effort. He pushes the money into his jacket pocket as she gets up, and they part ways with a small fond wave.  A hug would be too much out in the open, as if being dressed as a sailor wasn't eye-catching enough.

Steve returns to Scoops Ahoy Ice Cream Parlor and tags in so the girl he always seems to be on shift with can take her break. Her name's Robin. She's a little younger than him: Nancy's age. She's bossy, annoying, a complete nerd; she talks too much, she's in band, she takes drama; and she thinks she's some kind of revolutionary because she found a feminist zine one time. He gets the same feeling around her as when he's with the little group of dickheads that he always ends up babysitting. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, Max, El. He'd never let on, but it's kinda nice. They can rib one another all day, laugh, and mutually complain about work. It's like a weird comradery. 

But what Steve really likes about her isn't the things she gives away with her words. It's what he spots in her Walkman or what she hums when she's working in the back. Sure, Robin will tell you her favourites, Madonna, Bowie, Culture Club, and Cindy Lauper, but that, as with most people, is just the tip of the iceberg. She also likes Patti Smith, The Runaways and Marvin Gaye. Steve managed to sneak a peek at the names through the window of her Walkman. Sometimes, annoyingly, it will be an unlabelled mixtape, preventing Steve from unravelling the mystery of Robin further. 

Steve's Robin assessment: 

Non-traditional values

Likes people who go against the grain 

Hopeless Romantic

"You're back early. You've got another fifteen minutes?" She frowns at him and wrinkles her nose, making her freckles misshapen.

"Oh yeah," Steve plays dumb, follows up with a shrug, and heads into the back to hang up his jacket, wash his hands and pick up his scooper. When he re-emerges, she's still leaning on the counter, frowning at him like he was the weirdest thing she'd ever seen. He gives her a charming smile back, "You can go early if you want?" Her frown turns into disgust as she pushes past him into the back.

"What is with you?!" She mutters as she passes.

"Ah, what is with me, Robin, is that I love the thrill of consumerism! Gonna beat my personal best today. You'll see!" He calls after her with a smile.

"I know you only need one phone number to do that, Steve, but I still think that's one too many out of your reach." She says in a sing-song tone with a laugh, and Steve rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"I'm talking about ice cream sales, birdbrain." He sasses back.

"Ohh, sticking to what we're good at, finally. I'm proud of you, Steve." She says, teasing him, as she walks back out, headphones on, giving him a salute goodbye.

There is a small influx of customers over the next hour, but nothing Steve can't handle, and by the time Robin returns, there isn't much to do except start shutting down.

"Well?" Robin inquires with a smirk.

"Almost," Steve replies with a smile, "but also…" he pulls a slip of paper from his hat with a number on. Robin grabs at it, and Steve pulls it out of her reach. "Ah-ah! Change the tally. I have a number." Steve points at the little whiteboard.

"Ok, fine!" She says with an adorable huff, picking up the marker pen, but as soon as Steve has relaxed, she snatches the slip of paper and reads over it, clasping her hand over her mouth, with a laugh, "Oh, Steve. Were they wearing a uniform or - or maybe carrying a net?"

"A what? No!" He says, frowning in annoyance, "This cute blonde chick with a perm. Linzie! That's it!" Steve says, clicking his fingers and pointing at the whiteboard impatiently.

Robin walks over to the board and puts a mark under the You Suck column. 

"Hey!" Steve protests.

"This is the number for animal control," Robin says smugly, holding the paper between her fingers and handing it back to Steve, who snatches it and races for the phone, punching in the number whilst keeping a locked defiant stare with Robin.

The phone rings a few times. It feels like forever.

"Hawkins Animal Control. No bug too small, no bear too big." Steve rolls his eyes and slams down the handset, tossing the paper in the trash and leans glumly on the counter. He really does feel like he sucks right now.

"Come on, champ. Your frosty mistress still loves you! In scoopfuls," she says, laughing as she pats him on the shoulder and thrusts an ice cream tub at him. As he looks up from his self-pity, quicksand. Her eyes are bright, sparkling with harmless mischief. Even though her teasing could be a little cutting, there was no malice. He can tell by the way she warmly smiles at him. A wordless check-in to see if she'd gone too far.

"For now. Until some grizzly pirate steals her away, no doubt." Steve rolls his eyes as he starts piling up more tubs to take out back to wash.

"Or you." She says with a laugh. Steve shakes his head and contorts his face like she just told him the moon was made of sponge cake and returns out front to collect a few more.

"No chance, not with these reflexes!" He says, spinning his scooper in his hand. She rolls her eyes, but her smile widens as she launches a sauce bottle at him that he effortlessly catches before impact, pumps his eyebrows at her and repeats, "Not with these reflexes." The forced sneer of disgust appears on her face again, making him hide a laugh behind a tower of tubs he's picked up.

He really liked Robin. She was easy to be around.

Closing time comes around, and they nod their goodbyes, at the storefront, after locking up. Like clockwork, her headphones are back on as she walks towards the bike racks. He already knows she's listening to Raspberry Beret.

Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and feels the crinkle of the fifty from his mom against his fingertips, and his eyes move to the record store. They were probably gonna be open for an hour or so longer. He turns to the store's glass front, has a final check over his appearance and ensures his uniform is buried deep in the depths of his backpack before taking a deep breath and walking over there.

It's not like he hated this place or anything. It just felt like a betrayal to the town store that was slowly but surely crumbling into non-existence. The other factor was that all the people who worked here were school kids, apart from the manager. Cheap labour, he guesses, but it means he can never fully relax here. Can never fully let the music ring through his ears so it can guide him to his next pocket-sized plastic box of hidden treasure. Most of them were younger than him, though, so intimidating them was easy enough, though with the weather warming up, they were slowly catching on to how far King Steve had fallen, working just across the way. He tells them it's character-building, an experiment. He only told Robin that it was, in fact, a punishment.

He stands outside for a moment. This place is so bright and garish. Neon lights ran all over it like some fake plastic poison spreading between what he loved most. He can already hear something blaring out of there and voices chattering loudly, contending with it. He puts on his headphones, carefully placing the band so it doesn't crease up his hair, and pushes play on his Walkman. His ears fill with Nina Simone, and he takes a much easier deep breath as he walks inside.

I wish I knew how it would feel to be free.

As the voice smoothly fills his ears like it had just broken through the dam of the day and swirls its way around his brain into what feels like every crease, he finally feels that special feeling. The tingle from under his cheekbone to his temples, and he can finally settle into himself a little more. Swaps tension for ease as his fingers dance over the music sections, flipping cassette cases or the large vinyl album artwork as he moves around the store.

That is until he starts to hear the repetition of something unfortunate, and it pulls him out of his oasis of calm back into his old, reliable, tensed body and mask. His name.

"Harrington!" The voice rings out, and as if to make a show of how annoying this all is, he slowly takes off his headphones and forcibly pushes stop on his walkman.

"Yes?" He says through almost gritted teeth as he turns to the origin of the sound and finds himself met with a set of hopeful brown eyes, a mass of waves and curls, and an awkward smile. Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

Steve's Eddie assessment: 

Loud

Grating

Obnoxious

Non-conformist to the mainstream

Conformist to the Heavy Metal scene

"Good to see ya, man. How're things?" Eddie forces his smile wider, but it is strained.

Steve rolls his eyes with a sigh, "Let's get this over with, Munson. How can I help you?" His hands land on his hips, pushing back his jacket a little to emphasise the inconvenience, but Eddie seems unperturbed, curiously; his smile grows toothy and genuine.

"Well, that's quite an offer, but I was actually thinking about the other way around." Steve's eyes follow Eddie's ringed hand that comes into view and taps the name tag on his chest, "How can I help you, Harrington?" He drops his head to the side a little.

Steve forces out an unimpressed laugh of condescension, "I don't need any help. I'm good!" Eddie's customer service persona falters a little to worry.

"Come on, man.  All these other twerps here are terrified of me or the younger ones, who aren't, get led away by their folks." As he gestures around the store, sets of eyes that Steve didn't realise were on them dart away. Eddie's eyebrows push together, "You know I wouldn't ask if I wasn’t desperate, dude. We're in the same boat here, you know? Please?" 

Weirdly the endearing look on his face wins him over, but Steve will not advertise himself as an easy sell. He pushes back once more for good measure. "We are not in the same boat, not by a long shot!"

Eddie steps in closer, keeping his voice down, and mumbles out, "I know you're working over at Scoops, one of my band told me."

"Yeah, well, that's just an experiment. If I'm gonna manage people and run a company, I need to know what the average worker feels like. So like I said, it's very different," he scoffs with a laugh.

Then something unexpected happens. Eddie shifts his body and his stance. Straightens his wiry frame to his full height, no longer slouching for the promise of Steve's pity, but eye to eye for a second before he's slightly above him, maybe an inch or so. He squints a little, carefully searches each of Steve's eyes, looks him over, and puffs out his chest. All too familiar with this display of sizing up an opponent, Steve mirrors him. Show no sign of weakness. 

"You know, Harrington. One of my first little tasks here was to take out the trash. I crushed up boxes and collected empty soda cans that my colleagues and customers enjoy leaving around the place, though the signs explicitly say not to. I even shredded the unsuccessful applications for the position I just filled." Eddie's lips are tighter. It's almost a threat. He's obviously seen Steve's resume in the pile. Probably laughed at it too. An ember of anger glows within Steve, but his outside remains cool. He'll wait and see what Eddie wants to do with his leverage. His stare bores intimidatingly down into Steve's eyes, "So, as far as I'm concerned, and anyone that brings it up to me is concerned, we can stay in very different boats, Steeeeve." He lengthens and forces his name through clenched teeth. "That is, as long as you help me out here."

They hold the shared stare for a few seconds. The surprise revelation must have made it to Steve's face because Eddie looks like he knows he's won. He shifts back into sales assistant mode, like shrugging a jacket back on, and his hands animate his words once more. "So, I can help you out in the store. I could even make sure that all my friends with the munchies know where to get the best ice cream in town if you need some help over there too? Some of them are a lot cuter than you'd expect. Whaddya say, buddy? Consider it a symbiotic relationship." His grin, reptilian.

Steve breathes like he knows he's going to regret this. Eddie Munson invading his precious music. "What do you feel you can help me with today?" His exasperation is palpable. Eddie claps his hands together with glee, and his accessories clink about as he, alternating leg, hops on the spot before his sly grin turns radiant, friendly almost. The rapid change is almost a little jarring but intriguing because with a switch that quick, one of these attitudes was pure showmanship, and to his credit, both were believable performances.

"Well, let's start with the basics. Are you looking for anything in particular today?" Eddie asks pleasantly. "Because whatever you're looking for, Goody got it" he laughs out the rehearsed store slogan. It seems like he is actually trying here, and Steve decides this doesn't need to be a totally painful experience. For himself, at least. He taps his chin thoughtfully.

"Hmmm, I guess I'm just looking for something new." Steve ponders, looking around, and he sees a glimmer in Eddie's eyes as they dart from Steve to a section further back in the store. 

"Oh, well, if you want the freshest sounds around, you've come to not only the right store but also the right man. Metal is taking off in a big way right now, splintering off into little tasty genre morsels even someone as…well… straight-laced as yourself might enjoy." He looks him over, his eyes zig-zagging for clues. "Maybe nothing too heavy. A smorgasbord of speeds and sentiment for you to sample. Maybe er…Mötley Crüe? You heard of 'em?" Eddie has linked his arm and is currently parading Steve towards the back of the store. "Now try to overlook the title of the album. It's much less scary than it sounds. I think you're probably a Queen fan, right? Maybe some Bowie, Cheap Trick, or other seventies glam stuff? Well, you'll hear in many Crue melodies and riff structures that they are as much influenced by that as they were by punk rock. So I think you might like it. Besides, they are known for their hair, just like you." Eddie lays his charm on thick, well, what he thinks is charming anyway. Strictly speaking, it is a little hit and miss in Steve's book; although he lets Eddie finish his spiel, which is honestly more impressive than he would like to admit, Steve already had the album Shout At The Devil stashed away at home, and he did like some of it, but it didn't move him. But something about Eddie reeling off some of his favourites like that feels strange. Maybe that's why Eddie got the job here. Perhaps he’s a quick study when it comes to musical taste.

He attempts to assess Eddie for himself. Everything about his outside screams of high-speed punk and metal. But things like Dio, Iron Maiden and Sabbath definitely lean towards fantasy, history and myth. Imaginative, maybe, but that felt too soft. So he labels him creative, at least. The way he could talk at length about topics, and he's good with words. Maybe that's why he likes songs where the lyrics are a real story, tales of dragons and kings. There are the obvious things too. The way he dresses, his haircut, and his rings, but also something else. Being around him feels like when a guitar gets plugged into an amplifier. Eddie is big energy, wild maybe, something animalistic in how he doesn't hold back his expressions. Definitely something predatory in how he loomed over him, but that could have just been for show.

For Steve, there are levels to this. There is music you can’t bear to hear, the music you are indifferent to, the music you enjoy, music that evokes emotion, and then the stuff that sends lightning through your nervous system. It moves you, even if you don't want to be. If he was going to help Eddie out, the least he could get for himself was a tidbit of insider information about the guy at the same time.

So Steve stops them dead in their tracks before they reach the Metal section of the store and lies, "You know, I don't think my girlfriends are gonna enjoy that too much, Eddie. Maybe, yeah, maybe something a little softer. You know what girls like, right?" He sees Eddie jolt to a stop, his head shrinking back into his shoulders with a wince, and he releases his arm.

He turns to Steve, tossing his hair over his shoulder in a vain act of cockiness, that this time Steve sees right through. He waits to see what transpires. "Of course I do! I just thought you were shopping for you. You didn't say otherwise, duh!" Eddie states defensively, struts back into the middle of the store, and stops directly in front of the top 100 chart singles, blinking a few times, pretending to be in thought, but Steve sees the swallow of nerves. "So, uh, what's she into? So I can, you know, make a related recommendation." 

Oh! This was an unexpected turn of events, and Steve can't resist tugging at the strand of Eddie's unravelling. "Oh, you know, typical girl stuff." Eddie nods at the hundreds of cassettes in front of him, his mouth a tight line, avoiding Steve's eyes. He had made an assumption about Eddie long ago, and as it turned out, he might actually be wrong. He’s a nerd, yes. Loud, sure, but he’s also a lead guitarist. They get girls, women even, throwing themselves at them, right? But Eddie seems very nervous about figuring out what girls like. He looks stumped. Steve doesn't know if that is due to inexperience with girls or chart music.

"Huh," Eddie coughs out, hand on his hip as he rounds on Steve, "Never thought you were a misogynist, Harrington."

"What?" Steve blinks in surprise.

"You think girls like a certain type of music. That's pretty sexist." The confident smile returns to his face as he feels he's found a way out of the awkward place Steve had happily placed him in. "Your genitalia or identity can't make you favour one beat over another, Harrington. Music is an even playing field. The industry itself, that's a different story." He sighs like he's some wise old sage and tuts at Steve.

This guy is slippery, but Steve could play this game, "Oh, of course. What I meant was music for romancing? Maybe a slow dance over a candle-lit dinner or a moonlight drive down to get acquainted near Lover’s Lake or Skull Rock. You know all about that, don't you, Eddie? You're a man of the world, right?" Steve leans into Eddie's space and grins happily at him. That's when Steve gets another win. Eddie blushes, not just a little either, a lot. Soft coral-pink patches hit just on and under his cheekbones. So much so that before Steve can comment on it, Eddie is kneeling on the floor, pretending to search through tapes, his hair draped down, hiding his face. If he was a betting man, he'd guess the inexperience was with girls. Now there was a new question. Was that a choice or not?

He stands up eventually and looks Steve directly in the eyes, and smirks, "Alright, then." He says quietly, "Wait here" Steve frowns a little in confusion but observes Eddie darting around the store until he returns with three cassettes. "Contemporary," he hands over a copy of Sade's Diamond Life, "smooth," he places a second cassette on top of Al Green's Let's Stay Together, and the last cassette on the pile, The Jimi Hendrix Experience's Are You Experienced? He shifts his weight to his other leg, looks down at the tapes and then back into Steve's eyes, speaking hushed and deliberately as if he were telling him a secret, "and some of the sexiest fucking guitar the sixties had to offer."

And in that one sentence, Steve is jolted, like someone just caught him off guard with a hand buzzer. The first two descriptions were statements, observations, but that last one…there was power to it. Not just his words but the delivery. Eddie meant that. An enthusiasm he immediately recognised matching his own when he thought about music or talked about it after a few beers, and he had to remember not to let his mask slip too far, but Eddie wasn't masking how this particular musical gem had impacted him. Steve quickly breaks eye contact and looks down at the tapes in his hand.

"You listened to all these?" Steve asks because Eddie had inadvertently prodded Steve's curiosity gremlin, which is clawing its way out of him. He needed to learn more now. Unknowingly Eddie had baited the water for Steve, he wanted to circle him until he got another tasty chunk, but he couldn't, not here and now.

Eddie brushes the question off, "I know my way around. Just trust me. And in the unlikely event I'm wrong, you can return them at my expense." Eddie waves his hand in front of them both toward the register. "Shall we?"

Steve nods, turning the tapes over in his hands. Maybe he could keep the conversation going differently. "What happened to your other business venture?" It's reasonably well known Eddie is the go-to guy for recreational substances for high schoolers, and Steve would guess that is relatively lucrative, so why on earth was he working here. Was he turning over a new leaf?

"Well, not that it's any of your business, Harrington, but I'm under advisement to press pause on that whilst some things get ironed out." He taps the registry keys with a smirk that indicates to Steve that perhaps it's the golf club and not the clothing crease-removing iron he's talking about. "If I'm not splashing around, other things can bob up to the surface, you know? Things that shouldn't be in Hawkins waters, at any rate." Eddie looks up at Steve and stretches his hand out toward him so he can give him the tapes.

He has occasionally wondered if the cops knew about Eddie, but as long as he kept things quiet and didn't venture into harder substance sales, they let it slide. An unspoken agreement of sorts.

"Found out about this place, and well, here we are," Eddie takes the money, bags the cassettes, and drops in the receipt and a flier. He smiles hugely at Steve. "I sincerely hope you have a great evening, and remember," he hands over his change and raises a finger in the air, "whatever you're looking for," and leans across the counter into Steve's space, "Goody got it!" He says with a bit of extra pout, and something about this outward confidence mixes with his potential inexperience and makes for a tantalizingly tempting cocktail of Steve's thoughts.

Steve pushes him back lightly, but Eddie laughs as he presses against Steve's hand before retreating. Shit. That probably looked weird. Nodding his thanks and goodbye, he leaves, and as he does, Eddie hops up onto the counter, calling after him loudly by cupping his hands around his mouth, "And if I'm right, which I know I am! Don't forget to tell your friends about the fantastic customer service you've received today!" Steve keeps his head down and walks out, awkwardly smiling at anyone who meets his eye. 

Safely on the outside of the store in a dwindling-to-empty mall, Steve stops holding his breath. His insides, especially his brain, feel like they aren't sitting correctly. Like they are just out of place. He unclenches his fists to cool down his palms, which were busily overheating, particularly the one he'd pushed Eddie back with. He tries to shake whatever this is off himself and decides to try out one of the tapes. He looks at the three. He contemplates trying them in the order Eddie supplied them, but he knows in his core what he really wants. He wants to know why that last one made Eddie's eyes sparkle like that, why he chose those words, and why recalling the music on that tape for a few seconds completely changed Eddie's demeanor. He outright used the word sexy, but it wasn't that. Instead, Eddie made Jimi Hendrix, one of the most famous artists to ever have existed, sound like something secret or forbidden.

He rounds to the glass storefront and forces himself to calmly unwrap and change the tape in his Walkman when all he really wants to do is greedily rip open the packaging, tossing the old tape into the never, and be plunged straight into whatever sorcery this album contained. He puts his headphones back on and pushes play. A few seconds of silence as he paces towards the parking lot. He doesn't know why, but he glances back into the shop. The doorway frames a kid, probably around Dustin's age, engaging Eddie in conversation, holding up two tapes like he's trying to decide, and Eddie is talking animatedly, pointing at each in turn. The kid listens attentively. Steve smiles to himself.

Steve's Eddie assessment: 

Loud

Grating

Obnoxious

Non-conformist to the mainstream

Conformist to the Heavy Metal scene

Likes talking about music

Might not be the awful person the town says he is.

Then, like he can sense someone observing him, Eddie looks up and smiles at Steve. Pointing to himself excitedly and then at the kid making her way to the registers and sends him a thumbs up. Steve sends a weak one back and continues his walk to the car. The guitar and beat of Purple Haze time his steps.

Steve adds to his Eddie assessment. 

Nice smile.

****************************

"Wow! Your eyes look more sunken than my shipwrecked spirit when I walked through this door," Robin exclaims, her lip curled in disgust, but he notes, with a hint of concern, when she turns up to start her shift. Steve leaning back against the counter under the hatch, starts to reply but is interrupted by a waiting yawn beating his words to the punch, "Say no more Nosferatu!" She adds, heading into the back to hang up her jacket, helmet and backpack.

Steve lets his eyes lose focus and dissociates a little from the blue and white surrounding him. It's been quiet all morning. He didn't even know why they opened in the morning, it seemed like a waste of utilities, but it usually meant that there was nothing to do except prep and clean for the first few hours on a weekday. Which was nice because it meant Steve had the place to himself and could drown out the sea shanties and chipper hornpipe melodies with whatever music he was immersing himself into at that moment in time. Today that had been the same thing he'd been listening to all night like it was his required sustenance.

He thinks a little about last night, on the car ride home, and whilst he cooked dinner for one, he sampled the Sadé album, this was dripping in that eighties sophistication of romance, and her voice might have been one of the most beautiful things Steve has ever heard. Then whilst taking care of some chores, he listened to the Al Green album, again an excellent recommendation by Eddie, it moved through the phases of love effortlessly, and the voice again was sensational. Not because the music is better, it wasn't even a genre Steve preferred, but simply because of how Eddie changed when he spoke about it. Steve saves Are you experienced? for the end of the night, when there is nothing more to do than sleep.

Taking advantage of having the place all to himself was different these days. Years ago, he'd maybe throw a party and have people stay over, but recently he hadn't had it in him. Instead, he prepares the area as usual. Turns out all the lights, makes sure everywhere is locked up, rushes to his room, gets a box of randomly assorted candles, sets a few out, and lights them. Last of all, he dons the huge over-ear headphones he's plugged into his parent's hi-fi system as he lays back on the plush rug beside it and pushes play. The beat like his heart gently pounds as Steve Harrington unwittingly falls into Eddie Munson for the first time that evening.

Steve startles at the abruptness of the hatch opening behind him, "Look, I can't not ask. My conscience is wearing me down, even though, just so this is abundantly clear, I do not care to know about your private life, generally speaking," Robin says rapidly, like she's chucking her words at him, before sighing, "Is everything ok with you?" Her voice is more gentle, verging on caring.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Just couldn't sleep, that's all. Probably the change in weather," he answers.

"Oh well, I've cracked the case. That totally seems like the truth," she sarcastically says, shutting the hatch again, finally stepping out front, and standing directly in front of Steve, "I'm not gonna drag it out of you, but equally, I do not wanna work with the shadow of a person all day. So at the very least, if you don't wanna say what's eating you, go get a coffee and come back half-human before I get dragged down into the doldrums with you. It's contagious, you know, just like yawning!" She says and promptly has to cover her mouth to hold back a yawn, which also makes Steve yawn, "Ok, enough! Get out!" She says and points towards the store entrance. Steve obliges, pushing himself off the counter, slowly sloping off to the back to grab his jacket and leaving Robin with their obligatory salute as he heads over to the nearest caffeine purveyor.

As he walks, one side of his jacket weighs heavier than the other. The pocket that usually holds his on-demand solace, but today it contains a key that unlocked the door to impulse. When choosing his music for the day this morning, he reached for a mixtape that he'd made of some of his favorite chart hits, but as he opened the Walkman and saw the tape he'd been listening to all night, The one that he couldn't stop listening to, The one that snapped something free inside him, moments after he thought that maybe he and Eddie might have some common ground, He couldn't bring himself to switch them. He feels the temptation as his fingertips glance over the thin, metal band of the headphones to feel one of those moments all over again. He bites his lip, thinking about recalling one of those less-than-pure thoughts in the full view of all these people. They would have no idea. He looks around quickly like he is about to indulge in class-A contraband while waiting in line. 

No one else knew about last night. How his brain had been scrambled irreversibly. How the goosebumps had sprung up in a sprint up his arms, face and thighs. His imagination had not just run away with him but kidnapped him and held him hostage for hours. An entire psychedelic montage of his own creation. Traveling through kaleidoscopes of color, space, time, scenarios until something unexpected showed up, and as hard as Steve tried to bat it away, it continually returned, splicing his mental music video with clips of someone who had no business being in his brain when he felt open and raw that way. But alone in the darkness, safely in the arms of music, Steve let the thoughts develop, curious to know what would happen if he let go, let it happen, where exactly would they take him. But now, in the harsh light of day, that shame is still branded on his very bones. The heat rises to his cheeks, and though impossible, he's sure that if he doesn't do something about it, people around him will be able to tell. Be able to tell he'd been thinking about someone that way, all alone in the dark.

Steve quickly shoves his hand in his other jacket pocket away from temptation, and his fingertips play with something safe, boring and familiar. Money. Cold hard cash. The easiest mask Steve has in his toolkit. The furthest thing from music he could reach for. Icy, unfeeling, devoid of soul.

He reaches the counter, and the barista smiles broadly at him. "Good morning, Steve. What can I get ya today?" He's taken aback, sure he's never formally introduced himself to this girl before, but he's glad of the smile. A little harmless, friendly flirting couldn't hurt. It might even take his mind off other things.

"Whatever you've got to keep my eyes open." He tilts his head softly, glancing down at the counter and back up to the girl. "Something sweet though, I could do with a little sugar too." 

Her eyebrows flash, and she shifts her weight to lean a little on the counter towards him. "I think I know just the thing," she says with a subtle lick of her bottom lip, "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere sailor." Steve happily shakes his head in a no, and wishes Robin was here to see his success.

"Gina, huh? Thought your type was a lot more chaste, Steve," a gravelly voice to his left sends a slight shiver down his spine, and he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole right now, but instead, he turns to return a polite greeting.

"Good morning to you too, Eddie." He smiles and nods as standard, but his eyes, the traitorous things, linger a little too long, scanning the eyes of the man that had been the cause of him having to buy this coffee in the first place. Eddie looks him up and down in concern, but his expression changes to something mischievous, and he grins at the floor.

"My recommendations worked out for you and your girl, did they?" He nods in Gina's direction while finally looking at Steve again. 

"Something like that." He replies, leaning heavily on the tattered edges of the truth, but quickly adds in a whisper, "It wasn't Gina, though." 

Eddie's eyes widen, and he chokes a laugh out, and to Steve's pleasant surprise, it's almost a little dorky. That’s endearing. Damn it, he's smiling at him more now. Eddie bites his lip, still grinning, before pressing himself up against Steve's side with an elbow to the ribs, whispering in his ear, "Steve Harrington, you absolute hound!" Eddie laughs again, his usual deep chuckle. Gina snaps a glare at him from the coffee machine. Steve dies a little inside. "Double espresso for me, Genie baby," Eddie charmingly beams back at her whilst Steve does everything he can to keep himself together and not explode into a confetti cannon of embarrassment.

"Eddie! Get in line, like everyone else. How many times do I have to tell you?" She snips.

"Gina! My angel of energy! My friend here was just holding my place in line. Isn't that right, Steve?" Eddie turns to him and smiles, relaxed, his eyelids hooding his deep brown irises that Steve elects to quickly look away from.

"Yeah, that's right." He swallows, and keeps his eyes on Gina now.

"See!" Eddie says, raising his ringed hand to Steve's eyeline to gesture at him. Gina looks between the two of them, but her eyes eventually land on Steve, and her smile returns.

"Well, I have no idea why he's friends with the likes of you, Munson." She puts the two double espressos to go down on the counter, slamming the one nearest Eddie down much harder than the other, which she gently slides over to Steve leaning towards him, "but whatever Steve says…goes," she says, her eyes trailing over him slowly.

"Jesus Christ, Gina! You never heard of the thrill of the chase?" Eddie barks out a laugh, putting his money down on the counter.

"Who says I wanna do any running away?" She smirks, not taking her eyes off Steve.

"That's true. I mean, even walking a few steps ahead of your pursuer would break the habit of a lifetime, and we wouldn't want that now, would we?" Eddie teases as she glances down at the money on the counter.

"You're short, Eddie," she finally turns and bites back, making Eddie shrink a little. "Ten cents." The fun wipes from Eddie’s face as he frantically searches his pockets. Tiny coral-pink triangles start to bloom in the hollows of his cheeks.

"I got it, don't worry about it," Steve interjects quickly to try and get back to the safety of Scoops as soon as possible. He takes Gina's hand gently and puts the money in her upturned palm, grasping her attention again. She puts the money in the register and scribbles on her pad, ripping off a piece of paper.

"A gentleman too?" She says with an approving nod and fans herself, making Eddie roll his eyes. Then, she pushes the piece of paper into Steve's hand. "Pick me up at eight. Wear something nice," she says with a wink before waving around the customer behind them.

Steve gives them both a smile and a wave goodbye as he heads back to the ice cream parlor quickly, sipping his coffee as he goes, though honestly, he doesn't need it anymore. He is wide awake after all of that. Even though he's come out of it relatively unscathed. Eddie is none the wiser, and he's got a date.

Back in the safety of Scoops Ahoy, Steve spies Robin slouching over the counter, waiting on a queue of zero people. He does his best Travolta strut over.

"Wow, you sure that's just coffee in there?" Robin laughs. "It's like you've returned a new man." 

Steve forcefully leans over the counter at her with gusto with a massive smile on his face. "I not only have a number but a date tonight at eight!!" He looks very smug. 

Robin stretches her hand out towards him, and he hands her the slip of paper. Her eyes scan over it.

"Gina?" Robin says in surprise.

"How did you-" Steve starts to ask before he gets cut off again.

"So she did get fired from the department store! Now she has to serve sad sacks like you and Eddie Munson coffee, I see." Robin nods behind Steve. As he turns, Eddie, holding the small cup to his mouth, initially looking startled, is perfectly framed in one of the windows and gives a little wave back.

"I'll pay you back, dude! Promise!" Eddie shouts before breaking into a speed walk to the record store.

"You bought him a coffee?! Why would you do that?" Robin rolls her eyes like Steve has done the stupidest thing in the world.

"He was a couple of cents short. I don't even want it back, honestly." Steve protests as he takes back the paper from Robin, putting it in his jacket pocket.

"You clearly don't understand what you've done," Robin shouts after him as he goes into the back to reclaim the stupid hat and hang up his stuff.

"Then enlighten me! Please, I'm waiting with bated breath here," he sasses back, secretly smiling to himself, only for it to be wiped from his face quickly as the hatch opens abruptly.

"Ok, first of all, you don't understand the paying back thing because you've never been poor, Steve. So it's ten cents to you. It's shame on us, ok? Secondly, you've fed the neighborhood's stray cat by randomly buying Eddie that coffee! He'll keep coming round here now," Robin whines.

"Ok, first of all," he mimics her, "I didn't buy him anything. He put his own money down. I just gave the extra few cents. Why is it so bad if he comes around here, anyway? He doesn't seem so bad to me, Rob." Steve adjusts his hat in the mirror and shoots a finger gun at himself in acknowledgement that he hadn't been wearing the hat when he got Gina's number, so it must be the thing throwing off his game. He also realizes it's the first time he's shortened her name. He likes it.

"You want a satanic cult leader. In our ice cream shop, normally full of vulnerable kids?" Robin protests, and suddenly something dawns on Steve.

"And, since when do you care about our customers?" Steve asks, joining her out front, one hand on his hip and the other on the tiny coffee cup. He narrows his eyes at her, looking for tells. He finds none but calls her bluff. He feigns surprise and laughs, "Oh my god, is he your ex or something?! Is that why you don't want him hanging around here?"

Robin recoils violently. "Oh my god! No! He's not my type."

"Really?" Steve asks with genuine surprise. Eddie was a non-conformist. He was far from ugly. Both musicians, both took drama and liked accessories. But, maybe he was a bit too rough around the edges and loud for Robin, despite how feisty she could be herself.

"Yes! Really!" She protests again, but there is something else here. Robin doesn't make it a habit to judge anyone that isn't a real piece of work type asshole, and though Eddie could be overwhelming, in their short interaction yesterday, he'd seemed quite nice, and due to their mutual school activities, they must have crossed paths often, so she must have seen that side of him too. Unless, like Steve, Eddie had his own mask to survive high school, which made him generally unpleasant to most people, and only let a select few see his genuine parts.

Steve isn't sure that Robin is precisely lying, but she is definitely hiding something.

****************

Steve pulls up outside Gina's apartment complex at 19:50. He's early, but he absolutely does not want to be late. So he waits exactly where Gina had asked him, and parks up, then sits patiently on his freshly washed car hood. 

As he had no idea where they were going yet, he'd opted for something smart casual. The relaxed fit navy blue blazer and slacks combo, and an oh-so-soft pastel blue sweater underneath, perfect for cuddling into if that opportunity arose. Robin and Eddie obviously had made their opinions known on Gina, but he was way too much of a gentleman to make any such assumptions, and people can change.

At 20:08, Gina totters down the steps from the complex in the shortest, lowest cut, tightest, dark purple leather look dress Steve thinks he's seen outside of a music video. She looks incredible. Her body is banging, her makeup is flawless, her permed hair is tossed over in a voluminous side parting, and Steve cannot believe his goddamn luck. Holy shit. She’s a knockout.

He springs into date mode, jogs over to the other side of the street and offers her the crook of his elbow to escort her to the car, "Hey Gina, You look incredible!" Steve greets her beaming proudly.

She pops a chewing gum between her cherry-red lips and says, "You don't look so bad yourself, handsome." At that morsel of praise, Steve's heart soars. He's got it right tonight.

As she takes his arm, and they walk over to the car, he opens the door for her and takes her hand to help her into her seat before he gets in himself, "So, where to?" He asks with a huge smile.

"Ah, well, I thought we'd go to Patty's house party. It's not too far from here. Unless you wanna go somewhere else?" She asks.

"Are you kidding me?" Steve says with a gentle laugh and juts a thumb to himself. "I got the wheels. We can go wherever you want tonight." He turns and smiles reassuringly at her. "Anywhere at all."

She giggles, and Steve has to do everything he can not to rev the engine at his success so far. 

As Gina directs, they hit a reasonably long stretch of road, and it falls quiet in the car, "So… What kind of music do you like?" Steve tries, it was a comfort area, and it let him get a little insight at the same time.

"Oh, all the hits, as long as I can dance to it, you know?" Steve's eyes almost tear from the road to look at her fondly. She's a dancer just like him. He tries to not let his excitement get the better of him and pepper her with a million follow-up questions.

It falls quiet again.

"Is it, um, Patty's birthday or something?" He asks as she reapplies her lipstick again in the pull-down mirror.

"Nah, nothing like that. She's got the biggest free house. Plus, it's right around the corner from the liquor store. It's just here. Look. Take a right." She replies.

They make their way into the party. Steve grabs the bottle of wine from the back seat and quickly moves around to her door to open it and assist her before locking up and offering his arm again. It earns him another melodic giggle, "Such manners, Steve. Is this how you treat all your dates?" She asks playfully, and he knows she means no harm, but unfortunately, it's the first dent in Steve's confidence tonight. She already knew he’s on a losing streak regarding keeping a girlfriend. He tries to see the positive. At least she seemed to like him, and she didn't know he'd recently had trouble getting any dates. He supposes that could give him some kind of playboy status.

It has been a while since Steve had been to a house party like this. It’s rammed with people, primarily seniors but as with Gina, himself and Patty, a few recent graduates too. The girls squeal with delight, throwing their hands into the air as they greet one another, and Gina pulls him forward to be introduced, "Patty, this is Steve. Steve, this is Patty." Steve gives her a big smile and a nod.

"Looks like it's gonna be a killer party. Here, hope you don't mind," he says, passing Patty the wine bottle. She pulls an impressed face and looks over at Gina, raising her eyebrows. Patty's boyfriend gives him a nod.

The party is much more fun than Steve anticipates. Gina likes to dance. A lot. With a little more physical enthusiasm than Steve was used to, but my god, he is the envy of the room. She likes to show Steve off to her friends and kisses him so many times he loses count. She looked incredible at the start of the evening, but she might be the most beautiful creature to walk the planet with how adored she was makes Steve feel. Steve makes a mental note to introduce her to his Mom when she's back in town.

After a small succession of kisses on the swings in Patty's back garden, Gina excuses herself to use the bathroom, "I'll be right back, handsome. Wait here for me? Don't go running off with any other pretty girls, now." She sends him a dazzling smile and a wink, and the love-whipped puppy, previously known as Steve Harrington, nods obediently as she walks inside. Then flicks his eyes to the night sky with a happy sigh.

"Don't fancy the slide, instead, Harrington?" A voice grins from the darkness.

"Eddie? What are you doing here, man?" Steve says in happy surprise. He's still floating around on cloud nine. Eddie sits on the tree stump opposite Steve and lights up a cigarette. The awkward feelings around Eddie were almost all gone. Or at least buried. It was a one-off, just a mixture of unique circumstances. The shame was still in there somewhere, but Gina had eclipsed it all for tonight.

"Oh, you know, I was at the bar, and heard someone mention that one of my old friends was gonna show here, so I tagged along."  He offers the pack over to Steve, who declines and pops a chewing gum in his mouth. Eddie gives him a knowing smile, and Steve grins back and pushes himself on the swing a little, trying to channel some of that excitable energy somewhere."Going that well, huh?" He asks, raising his eyebrow as he pockets the carton.

Steve is desperately trying to remain cool, calm and collected about everything, but he's elated his losing streak is over, and what a woman to end it with. "Honestly, it's going a lot better than I thought it was going to."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks leadingly.

"Yeah," Steve says simply with a sigh, and that's when Eddie's expression changes, his mouth parts a little, but before he can say anything, someone calls out for him.

Patty rushes over, swaying a little, throws her arms around Eddie's neck, and hugs him. Eddie's face is a picture of panic, and Steve hides his laugh behind his hand.

"What you got on you then?" Patty slurs, looking up at Eddie and batting her eyelashes, and suddenly Eddie looks relieved and pulls out a few small bags of weed from inside his leather jacket. Steve observes him with confusion. Eddie said he was on pause dealing-wise.

"Thirty bucks for this little trio," Eddie offers with a toothy smile.

"Thirty!! Come on, Eddie, seriously. I can get twice as much for less," she complains and tugs at his denim vest.

He leans in and says quietly, "Yes, that is true, but I'm right here, and they're not right?" Then he pulls the same face he did at Steve in the record store. He knows he's won.

"Well," she steps closer to him again, and Steve sees Eddie visibly tense as Patty runs her hand up his chest, "Maybe we can come to a different arrangement, Eddie?"

Eddie clears his throat, and his eyes dart to Steve. "Oh hey, Steve, fancy meeting you here." His words are a desperate plea for help, and mischief swirls in Steve. Of course, he could just excuse himself and leave them to it, but something keeps him there, and as Patty turns, he sends her a little wave.

"Yeah, just out for some fresh air," Steve offers, and Eddie relaxes immediately as Patty creates some distance between them. She looks at Steve wide-eyed.

"Oh, hi again, Steve. Having a good night?" She asks nervously.

"It's a really great party, Patty. I'm having the best time," He answers genuinely.

She relaxes and smiles hugely at him. "It was really nice of you to come. Thanks for the wine and for helping Gina out tonight."

Steve smiles back, but he's a little confused. How was he helping Gina out? But before Steve can frame a question, Patty jumps ahead a few steps and answers.

"You're putting on a real show out there. It looks amazing. Though, if I may suggest, you are actually way too nice for her, so you might want to ease off on that a little." Patty enthusiastically reviews their date as Steve's eyebrows raise, and he blinks slowly.

"Hey Patty, how about twenty, huh?" Eddie puts a hand on her shoulder and tries to turn her towards himself, offering her the baggies again. She shrugs him off but fishes the money out of her pocket, her eyes still on Steve.

"Ohhh no," Patty says, overtly pouting her lips to indicate sadness, "widdle Stevie, didn't know." Steve stands up. His heart is pounding.

"Hey, that's enough!" Eddie says sharply to Patty.

"Oh, shut up, Eddie. Everyone knows she turns up to these things with someone and always leaves with Frankie. They're like Kismet or Kermit or whatever." She waves her hands drunkenly in the air. 

"Everyone?" Steve asks in a whisper, and his eyes move from Patty to Eddie, who is frowning deeply. Steve folds his arms, "No, you're wrong. You'll see," he says and takes off back into the party. He can hear Eddie faintly calling after him until he hits the wall of music and chatter of the house.

He looks around for Gina, moving swiftly between rooms, as the flurry of panic starts to set in deep in his chest. They can't be right. Then finally, he catches the sight of her perfectly coiffed hair and pins himself to the other side of the wall, so he can hear her talking without being spotted.

"Are you kidding me? He's not a patch on you, honey. Not nearly as manly as I like, you know? Just a good little boy. Not my big strong bad boy Frankie." He can hear the purr in her voice, and it's followed by a deep chuckle from someone else.

An invisible force punches Steve straight in the guts, forcing all the air from his lungs. The dents in the carapace of his confidence get a few new deep siblings as he dusts himself off and sets off to leave. He knows he should be mad. He should be angry. He should march in there and give them a piece of his mind, but he feels completely numb. What he does do, however, is stop by the kitchen, take back his wine and a random bottle of mad dog 20/20, and slump off to his car.

As he gets closer, he sees a silhouette of someone sitting on the hood of his car. The jingle of them getting off it abruptly and moving quickly towards him lets him know it's Eddie.

"Steve, man, I'm sorry. That fucking sucks. Are you ok?" Eddie tries to reach out and hold his shoulders, but Steve steps back out of reach. Sure, he's deflated, but he doesn't have the reason or the energy to be mad at Eddie.

"You've got nothing to apologize for. No one does. It's not anyone else's fault that I'm too dumb to know what, apparently, everyone else knows," he says a little glumly but finishes it with a half smile and shrug as he moves around him to get in his car, but Eddie, being the scrawny beanpole he is, slips in between Steve and the door.

"Hey, I get it. She got me too. Except, you know I wasn't as good about it as you are." Eddie is talking to him, but Steve is simply trying to unlock his door and ignores him."And you know I would have warned you explicitly if it wasn't you, you know?" That gets Steve's attention.

"What do you mean if it wasn't me?" He asks, turning to face Eddie, whose face is much closer to his than he'd realized, and it causes a mini jump in his pulse. Had Eddie wanted to see Steve made a fool of?

One corner of Eddie's mouth ticks up. "You're Steve Harrington. King of Hawkins. If Gina was gonna change her spots for anyone, I would have put money on it being you." Eddie says it sincerely, but it makes Steve feel worse.

"Ex-King of Hawkins," Steve says, shaking his head, trying to move around Eddie without pushing him away. He wants to leave, but he isn't mad at Eddie.

"And-and the way she was with you at the coffee place. I mean, I thought she was into you. Anyone would have thought that, man. Besides, she was probably totally into you, I mean, look at you, but this guy, this Frankie, they're, like, weirdly obsessed with one another, and then the next minute not speaking to one another," Eddie desperately explains, and Steve can tell he's trying hard to make him feel better about all this.

That's when Steve makes a new category of mistake. He looks up at Eddie's face. His sad eyes meet Eddie's big compassionate ones, glinting with yellow specks of the street light.

"It's weird, honestly," Eddie finishes gently, and Steve gives him an understanding smile back.

"Thanks, man. I get it. I'll be fine. It's just a big misunderstanding. I'll go home, get wasted, and pass out. Then, wake up, and start over. I've bounced back from worse," Steve assures and gives Eddie a playful thump on the shoulder. "You're alright, you know that?" Steve actually manages a small genuine smile as he allows himself to compliment Eddie.

"Do you want some company? I got treats!" Eddie says, holding up three little bags of weed at Steve.

"How many of those do you have on you?" Steve huffs out a little laugh, and Eddie's smile widens.

"Just these three," Eddie smirks, pocketing them again.

"No, you sold three to Patty," Steve corrects him. Eddie leans back against Steve's car door and makes a show of looking thoughtful for a moment before he clicks his fingers like he remembers something.

"Oh darn it. I must have accidentally given her my bags of oregano. Good job you're so astute, Harrington. Otherwise, dinner times next week would have been very interesting." Eddie smiles mischievously, and Steve erupts with a laugh.

"You didn't!" He says, scandalized.

"I wasn't going to until she poked fun at you. Totally uncalled for. Also might have relieved myself in an empty and dropped it in their vat of punch." Eddie shrugs like it's nothing and then blinks up at Steve. "Is that enough to gain entry to a much better afterparty?"

That thing that snapped free in Steve when he was lying on the rug, immersed in the music and thoughts inspired by Eddie, vibrates within him. 

He shouldn't.

He really shouldn't invite anyone back to his house when he feels like this, especially when his intention is to drink himself into forgetting all about Gina.

He absolutely shouldn't let down his guard to someone he's really only got to know the last few days.

He definitely shouldn't specifically welcome the man that resurrected the most secret, sinful parts of Steve into his home, where they would be alone together.

Steve can't decide, so he lets fate decide. "You got any more recommendations on you?"

"Shit, yeah! A fucking van full!" Eddie says enthusiastically.

And with that, Steve ignores every warning sign his brain throws up at him.

"Alright then. Follow me."

************

Eddie's van tails Steve's BMW along the inky black roads of Hawkins, intermittently interrupted by street lights when venturing through a more built-up area.

He turns up the radio a little to try to quieten the confused knot of feelings in his stomach. There was no question he was still feeling shockwaves from recently being absolutely crushed this evening, but now the excitement of something else tickles at the inside of his stomach. Him, Eddie and Music. Some of his private salacious thoughts rush through his mind again. 

Steve would be more alarmed by them if it weren't for a few things. 

Firstly this is not the first time Steve has had impure thoughts about a man. It just wasn't something he was gonna advertise in small-town Hawkins. Especially as he is one hundred per cent not just into guys. He'd sneakily read about it in the library and vowed as soon as he had the means it was definitely the big city for him, a place where other people like him could live much freer lives.

Secondly, he had heard things about Eddie, and he is sure it was because they labeled him a devil worshiper or monster that the town also whispered about him being into the more, what some of the stuck-up people of Hawkins might consider the debauched side of life. He'd heard that when people threw homophobic slurs at him, he played up to them. Flirted with his persecutors to scare people more, but honestly, he had just added that to the massive pile of slanderous gossip about Eddie. Prior to yesterday, he had always assumed that by being in a band, Eddie got his fair share of women. But now he wasn't so sure. Maybe tonight, he'd find out.

Thirdly the only person Steve knew of that had ever assumed him to be anything but straight was his father. So if that rumor started, Steve is confident he could squash it reasonably quickly.

Fourth, and this was probably the cruelest of his thoughts. If he did accidentally say too much or give something away to Eddie tonight, who on earth would believe known degenerate Eddie over golden boy Steve?

Steve had fooled around with just one guy before, Tommy, and always, always, always when they were wasted or high. Tommy said it didn't count, and honestly, Steve didn't mind. He liked Tommy, well, when he wasn't being a complete asshole, but it was more an avenue of mutual exploration than a relationship.

Tommy was handsome, but he was two-dimensional. All their shared interests were superficial. Maybe it was because they had been friends for so long that there wasn't anything to peel back and get his teeth into. He was enough to quicken his pulse, but that had been more to do with the thrill of doing something so forbidden than the man himself. Tommy didn't move Steve. 

But Eddie. 

Eddie might.

With no other cars on the driveway, he waves Eddie forward up to the house once Steve parks up.

He grabs the bottles from his car and sees Eddie emerge with his little lunch box and his arms laden with tapes. Steve unlocks the front door into the dark house and heads inside, Eddie close behind.

"Your folks in bed?" Eddie whispers.

"No, they're out of town. Work, you know?" Steve puts the wine back in the kitchen wine rack and holds up the glass liquor bottle contained within, "Wanna get straight to it, or would you prefer some beers first?" Steve asks with a happy host smile. Eddie is still marveling at the house, his round eyes searching the darkness. Steve wonders what for. 

"Just a beer, thank you," Eddie says slowly, entirely distracted by everything.

"The hi-fi is just through there in the den, or if you wanna smoke, we can sit by the pool?" Steve offers, seeing Eddie's arms still full of tapes.

"What time are your folks back?" Eddie calls back from further away now, as Steve hears the clatter of plastic cassette boxes and the jingle of Eddie's wallet chain as he returns. There must be something special in that, having your own noise, so people know it's you.

"I dunno, not until next week, though, I imagine," Steve says, offering Eddie one of the two beer cans.

Eddie's eyebrows knit. "Next week? Are you for real?"

"Yeah, once I got my license, they stopped getting a nanny in." Steve laughs.

"Was that a joke?" Eddie says, laughing too.

"I mean, I tried. Unfortunately, I'm no Steve Martin." Steve shrugs and smiles happily at Eddie as he stabs and shotguns his beer.

"Who are you, and what happened to sad Steve?" Eddie's eyes narrowly playfully. He wraps his arm around himself as he observes him and takes a sip of his own can.

"You want me to go get him? I'm sure he's around here somewhere…." Steve looks behind one of the drapes.

Eddie's head tilts with pure amusement, and that nice smile spreads across his face again as he observes Steve, "My god, funny too, huh?" There is something in the way his voice softly wraps around the words that sets a slight panic in Steve, almost reaching for the light switch to plunge them into the safety of bright light. Instead, his brain gives him a subject change.

"Shit, what about your friend at the party? Did you get a chance to speak to them?" Steve runs his hand through his hair, realizing he's probably ruined Eddie's night too.

He simply shrugs in reply, then changes the subject himself. "What's with all the candles in there? Did your power go out?" Eddie gestures back to the den. Steve closes his eyes, remembering he hadn't cleaned up in there yet, and then a real fear creeps over him, hoping that he hadn't left anything else incriminating in there. 

Steve half-lies quickly. "Oh, ambience!"

Eddie points back at him. "Yeah, of course, your girl from last night. Setting the scene for seduction," Eddie says, pretending to swoon.

"Well, more for relaxing than romance in particular, but sometimes one can lead to another," Steve says, and he does let that hang in the air for a while to see if there is any reaction from Eddie. Sadly nothing to help him assess him further. Maybe it was too subtle. "Do you maybe wanna head out for a smoke?" Steve asks, turning to get himself another beer.

"Now that is much more my brand of relaxing," Eddie laughs, grabbing his lunchbox.

Steve catches up to him and puts a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Wait, how about you pick out a tape? I'll grab the boom box."

Eddie's eyes move to Steve's hand on his shoulder first, then to his face, with a blink, "Yeah." Steve shakes Eddie's shoulder and gives it a good old sports pat before removing it entirely. He watches Eddie's face for any signs, and he's pretty sure the smile he gives him before he walks towards the treasure trove of tapes is one of disappointed realization. Or maybe Steve had all his hopes resting on that being the case. Hope is such poisoned manna. Maybe physicality wasn't the way to get Eddie to reveal a little more. Maybe Steve could try something else to find the answers to his questions. Something Eddie loves to do. Talk about himself.

Steve sets up the player between two loungers and turns on the pool lights. Ambience, he thinks, though honestly, the waning moon is setting the scene enough for him. He doesn’t wanna make it too obvious. He kicks up his feet on the lounger, sips at his beer, and waits. After a few minutes, he starts to get a little concerned, but as soon as he sits up, Eddie arrives with an entire box of tapes and an excitable smile.

"I, uh, couldn't decide what you might like, so I just brought them all out and found a box in the kitchen; hope you don't mind. Just easier to move 'em around," Eddie excuses and thunks down onto the lounger next to Steve’s. "So take your pick," he says, gesturing at the box and pulling a pre-rolled joint out of his pocket, which he lights up quickly.

This isn't really what Steve wants. He wants Eddie to show him around what Eddie likes. He wants to hear him gush over riffs and lyrics. Tell him how it feels when he plays them, and show him how his dexterous fingers leave no part of the fretboard untouched. But Steve recognises Eddie's apprehension and decides to play the game at least. He reaches into the box with one hand, sorting through the tapes, and with the other, without taking his eyes from the music collection, makes a come hither motion at the joint, which, pleasingly, Eddie acknowledges without protest, and Steve soon finds it slotted between his fingers as he pretends to peruse the album artwork and track listings.

He can feel Eddie's eyes on him, and out of the corner of his eye, he observes Eddie's hands on his thigh and knee and sometimes, when Steve picks up or hovers over a particular tape, his fingers tense, possibly with excitement Steve guesses. He takes a long drag on the shared substance.

To Steve's surprise, the selection of tapes is more varied than he thought. Sure, there is a lot of what he guesses from the names, titles, or artwork are metal, rock, and punk, but there is a chart hits compilation, some new wave electronic stuff, country and classical. Steve hands back the joint and takes a sharp intake of breath as he sits up.

"You know, Eddie. I'm a little overwhelmed by all the choices here." 

"Ah, too many? Sorry. I just didn't know what you'd wanna listen to." Eddie nods apologetically, and something in the way he says it makes Steve wonder if too many or too much is his habit. Maybe he'd been hurt before by people telling him he was too much.

"Well, how about this? How about instead of this being about what I like," Steve looks up to him with a friendly smile, "you show me what you like. Maybe it'll be the same." He gives a little shrug and wonders if Eddie might pick up on any subtext.

"Doubt it," Eddie laughs with a quick glance up at Steve from the tapes.

"Oh, ye of little faith. I really liked the Hendrix one, best out of the three." Steve offers him a guiding thread to assist. He would continue about how he will probably play it to death, but as he looks over, Eddie's face reads excited already.

"Really?" He says, and the innocence of the question makes Steve feel like he's in middle school again. Making friends over sports or movies, but then suspicion rears its ugly little head, and Eddie folds his arms and leans forward. "Oh yeah? Tell me what you liked about it."

Steve doesn't want to give away too much of himself. "Foxey Lady is a fun track, and Fire." Eddie rolls his eyes a little and nods.

"You like Purple Haze too, I bet?" Eddie says a little condescendingly, and he's unsure if it's the beer and weed starting to mix on no food because he didn't know if he was going to dinner with Gina, but Steve feels a little insulted.

"Well, who the fuck doesn't like Purple Haze?" Steve fires back. "It's a great piece of music."

"Whoa-ho-ho, Harrington. Don't get your little panties in a twist. I was just guessing." Eddie chuckles, putting his hands up defensively, offering the olive branch of the joint back to Steve, who takes a pretty deep inhale from it and sends it right back, picking up his beer.

"No, you weren't. I mentioned some popular songs, and you immediately judged me, thinking that's all I listened to when that is not the case at all! Also, that's why they are popular, by the way, because they're great songs. So you could maybe get off your high horse about it." Steve complains and puts Eddie in his place. Or so he thinks.

Eddie's grin widens, and that sparkle in his eye returns, and now Steve can't work out if he's walked right into something or if Eddie is simply amused. His hand extends to him again, and Steve, though a little confused, accepts the smoke and takes another hit.

"I also really liked 'Manic Depression'," Steve adds much more gently, opening the door to his true feelings, a crack, "How it details in the words and melody his relationship with music, the emotion behind in 'The Wind Cries Mary', and that bluesy feel to 'Red House'. Those songs also easily transport you someplace else." Steve says, taking a glug from his can and, realizing it's empty, standing up to get another.

"Wait-wait-wait," Eddie says hurriedly, looking up at him. "Here, I picked this up on the way past too." He holds up the glass bottle that Steve selected from Patty's party. Steve takes it from him and sits back down, knocking back a swig and wincing at the taste and heat, but Eddie ignores it. He has other things to address. "What do you mean someplace else?" He leans forward over the tape box towards Steve, eyeing him like a scientist looks at their specimen.

"In your imagination, you know, the music takes you somewhere else." Steve shrugs, taking another swig as Eddie sips his beer.

"Where'd it take you?" Eddie asks, tilting his head, and though Steve's heart rate quickens at the thought of the truth, he sees an opportunity.

"You sure do ask a lot of questions. What if we trade? I'll answer yours, you answer mine? That seems fairer to me." Steve doesn't have to wait long for a reply, but he’s stalling to craft an answer that doesn't involve revealing more than he wants to.

"Yeah, sure," Eddie says, brushing it off. "So where did they take you, these songs?"

"Ah-ah-ah, Eddie. You gotta answer one first," Steve teases, and Eddie, denied an answer to his question, folds his arms. Steve adds to his assessment.

Adorable sulking face.

"Fine," Eddie pouts.

"So, the three tapes you gave me were great, exactly what I needed, and I thought, how does a guy get so knowledgeable about this kinda stuff, and then I remembered you were in a band, you play, er, bass, right? So I naturally assumed-" Steve lies. He wants to avoid coming across as knowing too much about Eddie.

"Lead guitar, actually. Sing a little too," Eddie interrupts proudly and waves Steve on to continue with his question.

"So I assumed that you must have girls throwing themselves at you? Right?" Steve asks with as innocent curiosity as he can muster. 

"More girls throw themselves at me for drugs than music, but that could change. The stuff I play is becoming more popular," Eddie replies, and Steve tries to see what he can get out of a few quickfire questions.

"Oh, so you're inundated with women then?" Steve asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

"No," Eddie answers.

"Right, you must have a girlfriend…"

"No. Listen, are we here to discuss music or my love life?" Eddie defends, and Steve feels like he must have touched a nerve, so he tries some humor.

He mimics Eddie’s hand gestures and voice from earlier. "Whoa-ho-ho, Munson! Don't get your panties in a knot about it!" And that is enough to make Eddie laugh. "Jesus, I was just getting to know you. After all, you've had a front-row seat to my car crash love life tonight." Steve self-deprecates and laughs, but Eddie doesn't.

"I'm sorry, man. I wish I'd just said something in the coffee line, but I swear what I said earlier was absolutely true. If it had been anyone other than you, I wouldn't have thought they stood a chance and warned them," Eddie says with genuine regret.

Steve takes a swig out of the bottle and reassures him, "Not the first time I got my confidence destroyed at a house party. Maybe it won't be the last, but like I said, I bounce back well enough. Last time was a whole lot worse. Met her parents, told her I loved her and meant it, and thought she did too. Turns out she didn't." Steve glances up at Eddie, who looks sad for him. "Anyway, back to why we're here. Pick a damn tape, Eddie, would ya?" Steve laughs, trying to lift the mood, and holds out the liquor bottle to him, but Eddie declines.

"Can't get too wasted. Otherwise, getting home is gonna be more of a challenge." He smiles down into the tapes.

"You can stay over if you want. There's plenty of room." Steve offers, maybe too quickly. He takes another drink to style it out.

Eddie looks up and acts all shy. "Wow, Harrington! Take a guy to dinner first," he chuckles and grins at Steve, who nearly spits out his drink.

Composing himself a little, he replies, "If I order pizza, does that count as dinner?" Steve smirks.

Eddie flips his hair over his shoulder with a flick of his hand after pushing play on the tape deck, "It's a little less than I was expecting to be wined and dined by Steve Harrington, but, uh, it'll do." He says as he grabs the bottle from Steve and takes a sip, "Holy shit, urgh." He grimaces as the night air fills with chugging guitar riffs, and a voice fills the air that Steve has definitely never heard before.

Eddie happily gestures to the boom box with both hands. "This is the self-titled album by W.A.S.P.”

Steve chuckles, “I know how to spell Wasp!”

Eddie shakes his head, “No you say Wasp but they are actually W.A.S.P.” He beams at Steve and taps the metal pin on his vest, then takes a deep breath, ”anyway It contains such mind-shredding tracks as The Flame, Tormentor, The Torture Never Stops and Show no Mercy, which has one of the finest dick-twitching solos I've ever played." Steve sees Eddie literally shudder, and he's drawn in immediately. This is what he wanted, but before he can push for more information, Eddie is out of his seat pacing around the loungers. "Also the more famous, 'I Wanna Be Somebody', 'Hellion', even a spine chilling cover of 'Paint it Black' by The Stones. For the more romantic souls out there, 'L.O.V.E Machine', 'Sleeping in the fire' and 'Animal' which is more commonly known as," and he leans right down to Steve's ear, "‘I fuck like a beast’. Which is what you're listening to right now." With a laugh, he takes another swing from the bottle, shoving it back into Steve's chest, and walks back around to his lounger, props one foot on it, and starts air guitaring and headbanging along to the song. Steve grips the lounger beneath him for dear life. He swears right there he's gonna get them tickets to every fucking W.A.S.P show he can, and he'll definitely need to buy this album now. Tomorrow, first thing.

"You can play all these?" Steve says, trying not to sound too in awe. Eddie doesn't look up from his fingers on the imaginary fretboard, and honestly, Steve doesn't blame him.

"Pretty much. Better at my favorites or the ones we play in the band." Steve needs to see that, or maybe that would undo him completely. Maybe best not to. Steve imagines how he looks on stage, sweating under the lights, straining as he yells into the microphone. "So where did it take you?"

"What?" Steve asks, wholly lost in his thoughts.

"Maybe you should slow down there, champ. Are you alright? You look a little flushed." Eddie stops what he's doing and goes over to his little lunch box, retrieves a small candy bar, and sits next to Steve on the lounger, placing it in Steve's lap. "Lemme see." Eddie grasps Steve's jaw in one hand and examines him, his eyes comically wide as he analyzes him, making Steve giggle. Eddie rolls his eyes with a smile, and taps his face, snatches up the candy bar and tosses it back in his lunch pail. "You're good." He shrugs off his jackets and leans against the backrest of Steve’s lounger, a long leg on either side of the part where Steve is sitting, making their legs graze one another occasionally as he sparks up a cigarette, which he balances in the corner of his lips. "Hendrix, where did it take you?"

The sudden display of open confidence, the way he just splays his long limbs out like that. Like he owns the place, makes something squirm inside of Steve, and maybe he feels a little shy now, saying, "I dunno, maybe it's lame." Eddie frowns as he plucks the cigarette from his mouth.

"I'll let you know if it's lame." He says, blowing smoke rings in the air.

"Er. It's difficult to explain, but sorta like things I know from that era and sound, psychedelic colors, and then like imagining watching it live," Steve's mind takes him right back to last night, "and 'Hey Joe' was like being pulled into a landscape painting, 'Are you experienced?' and 'Stone Free' was like moving through outer space, you know? Maybe I'm talking shit, but that's where I went anyway," Steve finishes, avoiding Eddie's eyes a little, as when he says it aloud for the first time, it loses all its magic.

"You listen to all music like that? I mean, go places?" Eddie mutters the question softly, and Steve chances to look over, and Eddie's expression almost looks hopeful.

"No, it just kinda happens sometimes. Like a daydream almost, and then I get these like tingles-" Steve starts, but Eddie finishes.

"Along your neck and arms?" And now Steve can hear the excitement in his voice, so he turns to him and indicates along his cheekbones, arms and legs.

"Yeah, kinda," Steve replies, and it doesn't feel bad at all having Eddie's eyes move over him like that.

"Do you play an instrument?" Eddie asks, sitting forward towards Steve now, his eyes eager for answers. Steve doesn't want to get his hopes up too high, but Eddie has not ridiculed him. Hasn't made an awkward face or an excuse to leave. If anything, he wants more, and with that power shift again, Steve tries something else. He leans back on his elbows across the lounger, his arm resting a little on Eddie's leg, and stretches out his torso comfortably.

"Eddie," he smiles, "I gotta get some questions in, too, you know?"

"Oh yeah, shoot, dude," Eddie says matter-of-factly.

"Are you gonna bite my head off again if I ask about your love life?" Steve asks with a laugh.

"Fine, as long as you tell me why you're so interested because I'd much rather be talking about music, honestly." And with a reply like that, it's almost as if Steve already has his answer.

"Look, in the record store, you were selling me that Mötley Crüe album, happy as anything, and I knew you were in a band, so my brain just assumed you were like a chick magnet, just maybe not the ones from school, you know? But then you got all nervous when I asked you about music girls liked, and whilst there isn't anything wrong with that, it wasn't what I expected. So does that explain better?"

Eddie looks a little sheepish but then smiles and shrugs. "Sorry to burst your Eddie Munson bubble there, Harrington."

Steve gestures at himself. "It's overrated. Living proof right before your eyes. Music doesn't let you down like that, though, huh?" And that earns him a sweet smile, "So tell me to fuck off at any point, but I sort of can't believe it, honestly. So is it that you don't have a girlfriend right now, or like never have?"

"Define girlfriend," Eddie says, playing with his rings.

"A girl you've taken on a date," Steve says.

"Yeah, I've had a girlfriend or two then," Eddie says, but Steve doesn't detect any fun glimmers of nostalgia, but that squashed one Hawkins rumor about Eddie, he obviously liked girls.

"But…" Steve leads him a bit further.

"But that was literally it. We just went to the movies or the diner for milkshakes," Eddie says, a little disappointed.

"You ever taken Robin, the girl I work with, on a date?" Steve pries a little further.

"Not a date as such. We just used to hang around one another a lot for a while, and then, erm," Eddie looks thoughtfully into the sky, "then I guess I asked her something, probably too personal, and I'm definitely not telling you what it is, so don't ask, and she's kind of avoided me since." Eddie looks regretful, and Steve decides to give him a break.

"I don't play an instrument. I tried a bunch of different ones but could never get one to stick. Even tried singing, which I'm ok at, but you know, not opera or anything like that."  Steve sighs and looks up to the night sky. "No matter how much I love music, I just don't have the talent to make or mimic it, apparently."

"Maybe you just had a shit, stuck-up teacher," Eddie says quickly, and that does bite of a lived experience. "When I was a kid before I moved here. I had this teacher; all he wanted to teach me was like campfire songs to do with god or nursery rhymes. I learned enough to find my way around the acoustic, but then, well, I couldn't go anymore, but honestly, by that point, I didn't want to. He sucked." Eddie raises his eyes to Steve, "But then I got here. Just my clothes and my guitar slung across my back and moved in with my Uncle. Now that guy taught me how to play. We figured out that I could actually, when not being bullied into some kumbaya shit, play by ear, and when I'd get stuck, Wayne would help me. He showed me all his anti-war favorites and even started off my savings for the guitar I have now. He got me a second-hand electric pretty quickly and amps. He's good like that. Finding the best bits of people and nurturing them. Probably regrets it a little now, though." Eddie laughs with so much fondness in his voice.

"I bet he doesn't. I bet he loves seeing how much you enjoy playing." Steve nods at the sky.

"If you wanted, I could help you learn guitar. Well, what I know anyway," Eddie says kindly, which makes Steve ignore the entire cosmos and focus on him.

"What, like what we're listening to now? Play like you?" Steve blurts out excitedly.

Eddie tries to hide his smile, "Well, anything you like, really, and I can't guarantee you'd be as good as me, but we'd try," he says as the repressed smile breaks out across his face, and Steve gives him a little playful shove, and this time Eddie returns it.

"Alright, you're on. I'll take a look at guitars tomorrow." Steve grins back.

"You can borrow one of mine if you like? It's no problem" Eddie shrugs like it's nothing, and Steve nervously swallows. God, he wants this. Wants Eddie. Wants someone who knows what he means when he explains how a song makes him feel. Who doesn't laugh at him or make a face and knows so much. Eddie feels like a drug that would be the multi gateway to everything he could possibly need. They sit silently for a minute or so, "The girlfriend thing. I, uh, well, I stopped trying because I'd get so nervous. The date would be fine, you know, I can talk the ears off of the corn harvest, but, uh, I'd just bottle it at the goodbye. I just built it up in my head too much, I think. I just wanted to get it right, and when presented with the opportunity, I thought I was gonna fuck it up, so I'd just hug them goodbye. Then they'd think I didn't like them, but I'm too much of a coward to admit I was scared, so I just stopped trying." 

"Well, you're not a coward. Navigating girls can be terrifying, Eddie, and maybe," Steve turns on his side towards Eddie on the lounger, propping his head up on his hand, "maybe you just had a bunch of shit, stuck-up teachers."

"Yeah, well, if kissing lessons were something I could buy, Harrington, believe me, I would have already invested heavily a long time ago." Eddie laughs, playing with his rings again, and Steve's so happy that Eddie isn't looking at him right now because he is literally chewing on his bottom lip, desperately trying to find a way to gently prod the opportunity the universe just chucked into his lap. Come on, Steve. 

"Well, if I'd known there was a market for that sort of thing, maybe I wouldn't have to be working slinging ice cream to attitude-filled kids loaded up on sugar." Steve laughs, looking down at and playing with the material threads of the lounger, and then glances up at Eddie subtly. 

Steve's heart skips when he finds Eddie looking up at him from under his hair, frozen, mid-picking at his nails.

"How many first kisses do you think you've been?" Eddie asks, and Steve can hear the curious caution in every word.

Fighting his every urge, Steve breaks eye contact to look up, like he's pretending to remember them all. He doesn't actually know. "Oh tons, and you know it is exactly what you said. It's all just nerves. Most of them get much better once the first one's over. Probably the same as the first time you played on stage. I'm guessing here, but you probably still get a little nervous now, but not enough to stop you, right?" Eddie makes a thoughtful noise in response, and Steve hopes he's done enough leading, but all he really wants is a red or green light to let him know what to do next, but they're sort of stuck in a kind of limbo, and he can feel the tension in him, stretching, and any minute now it's just going to snap. "I think you'll find it easy once you get past the nerves, sure there are some dos and don'ts, but, it's mostly playing it by ear, reading the other person, and from what you've said, those things come easily to you, right?"

"Right." Eddie agrees, "How did you learn, or did it just happen organically, like when it's supposed to?" Steve almost feels a little sorry for him, and he could tell the truth here, that it had just naturally occurred sitting on the porch with his middle school girlfriend watching the sunset, or he could bend the truth a little, maybe making Eddie feel better and nudge at this situation simultaneously.

Steve readjusts his position. He sits up and straddles the lounger, mirroring Eddie, facing one another. "If I tell you, you are absolutely sworn to secrecy. Ok? Like to the grave!" Steve says as seriously as he can, and Eddie perks up. His eyes revert to an excited look as they scan Steve, hungry for secrets, with a couple of enthusiastic nods. "No, you gotta swear. I mean it! I'd never live it down." Steve lays it on thick as he looks Eddie right in the eyes.

He frowns slightly to show his earnestness, "I swear, man. I would never tell. Also, even if I wanted to, that would involve exposing myself too. Why was I talking about first kisses with Steve Harrington in the first place, right?"

"Yeah," Steve makes a show of relaxing a little, and Eddie shuffles forward a little, leaning into the secret. "So believe it or not, before my first kiss, I was much like yourself, nervous about it, and I was talking to my best friend about it, and they felt the same, so we kinda, uh, practiced with one another?"

Eddie deflates a little. "Oh, I see. Well, that's not so bad. Handy to have a willing girlfriend around to help out." Eddie forces an awkward laugh.

"It wasn't my girlfriend, Eddie. It was my best friend," Steve says, hammering down each word like the heaviest hints of all time.

"You know what I mean, a friend who's a girl," Eddie says, and Steve really doesn't want to have to spell it out, but it looks like he might have to. He adds to his Eddie assessment.

Intelligent but can't read between the lines.

"I've not had a girl best friend since kindergarten, Eddie." Steve tries again.

Eddie looks horrified. "You were kissing in kindergarten? Jesus! Way to make me feel even worse about all of…" and then he stalls, like his brain engine full on cuts out. His eyes move around the lounger in between them like he's solving the meaning of life, and suddenly his head lifts, and his eyes lock with Steve's, "Your first kiss wasn't with a girl? I-I mean…your friend…it was a boy. The one you practiced kissing with was a boy. A boy?" Steve can't hold back his laughter and just nods, putting a hand on either side of his own face like he's mortified.

"Please don't tell anyone, Eddie. I just wanted you to know, as much as it would appear, I'm pretty confident in that department now. I was just as nervous as you once." Steve smiles, and his heart is pounding hard. It was a risk. A big one, but if it meant either squashing this crush or the impossibility that maybe this could happen, he needed to take it. 

"Right, ok," Eddie says, and it makes Steve a little concerned because he sounds a little panicked. Steve's heart sinks.

"Want another beer? I'm gonna go get one," Steve says, using his chipper customer service mask. He makes sure to smile big at Eddie like he isn't getting his heart crushed for the second time this evening, though this time is entirely his fault.

"Yeah, I could go for another beer," Eddie says without looking at Steve. Well, at least he didn't want to leave immediately. That was one good thing, Steve thinks as he walks as casually as possible to the fridge, ducks his head inside it, and curses.

"Shit!" He whispers and takes a deep breath before grabbing two cans. Then he hears a faint jingle.

"Is it much different?" Eddie's voice comes from the dark of the kitchen, and the rate at which Steve's head lifts makes him bang it on the refrigerator.

Steve rubs his head. "Jesus Christ, dude. Don't sneak up on me like that." He hands the can to Eddie and heads out to the pool again, but Eddie stops him, a gentle hand on his arm.

"Is there much difference between the two?" At first, Steve is confused, maybe from the jump scare or the bump to his head, but then he catches on.

"Erm…I dunno. It wasn't really a side-by-side comparison, and we were a lot younger then, but no, I don't remember anything being too different. Other than the person, but then you can kiss two girls, and they can be different too. Not everyone likes the same things, but like I say, you'll read that easy enough, or they'll let you know if they like or don't like something." It's dark in here, but he can still read the confusion on Eddie's face. "It would be kinda like you teaching guitar students to play the same song. They might all have different guitars. Some might have favored acoustic over electric, and some might embellish on parts, but it's still recognisable as the same song. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, that does make sense." Eddie's voice is much more at ease, "And even though you kissed a guy, you still like girls, right?"

"I feel like I don't need to answer that, Eddie." Steve rolls his eyes and puts a hand on his hip, making Eddie laugh.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry. I forgot about earlier." Eddie chuckles.

"That's ok. If it wasn't for you, my night could have ended a lot worse, that's for sure." Steve says thankfully. "Your friend being in town was pretty lucky."

"Hmmm, yeah, that was lucky, wasn't it." Eddie's rings tap the side of his beer can as he sways from side to side a little, and soon, some things are coming together for Steve.

"There was no friend at the party, was there?" Steve says in realization, and Eddie smiles and shakes his head in a no. "You knew what was gonna happen because you found out that guy was gonna be there."

"I suspected. I didn't know. What I said earlier was true about Gina liking you. I also remember how shitty I felt when it happened to me, but when I got there, you looked like you were having a great time, so I went to leave but heard him in one of the other rooms, and I just suspected the worst." Eddie explains, and doesn't Steve's whole heart swell at such a level of sweetness and care. He barely knew him, but he still looked out for him.

"Thanks, man," Steve smiles fondly at him. Maybe other things were impossible dreams, but he feels sure he at least has a new friend, "You know what? I'm gonna take you up on your offer. How much do you charge for a lesson?" 

"Well, I thought maybe," Eddie scratches the back of his head, "Maybe we could…I dunno…er…trade expertise?" He suggests. It's a good job Steve had spent most of his life learning to hide his emotions when he needed to, specifically for moments like this. His heart is thundering in his chest, his brain is scrambled with a million different types of static, and his hand wants to crush the can in his grip with sheer excitement. Two days ago, this wasn't even on his radar. Two days ago, this delectable taboo wasn't even on his menu. It was on a hidden secret menu only he knew about, and yet here it was, being presented on a silver platter, and it's taking every ounce of resolve he has not to grab hold of it and greedily consume it quickly before the invitation is revoked. Oh, and he knows he's been bad tonight, a little trick here and a little lie there, and maybe he does feel like a bit of a creep about it, but it's not enough to say no. He was jonesing for something he'd never even tasted, but every neuron and hormone in his body told him he wanted it. No. He needed it. He'd let future Steve live with the regret and consequences.

"Sure. That sounds good," he says pleasantly. "When shall I book you in?" He says with a friendly laugh.

"Uh, now?" Eddie says.

"Now?" Steve says, a little surprised.

"Yeah, once I get the first one done. I'm good, right? Just beginner's stage fright. Then I can grab the guitars out of the van, and I can return the favor," Eddie says like he's working through the facts in his head, and suddenly Steve's excitement is a little dampened. Eddie wanted it over with, and Steve guesses he expected it, but hearing it out loud from Eddie kinda stung a little, but that was fine, right? Or would a taste of honey be worse than none at all?

"Yeah. Cool. Um, where do you think you'd feel most comfortable? It's your nerves that are the issue, so what do you do to relax?" Steve asks, and Eddie laughs.

"Well, we've kind of already been doing that, but, uh, maybe not outside somewhere a bit more private. But, uh, this is my first time here, so I don't know where would be best." He looks around for a second. "What about where you set up last night?" Steve gives a one-shoulder shrug like his insides were not currently leapfrogging over one another to see who could get a chug of that sweet adrenaline first.

"Sure. I'll tidy up my crap, and why don't you bring your stuff in, so we can pick a song you can teach me afterwards?" 

"Gotcha! See you in a sec, smoochy-poo," Eddie cackles, and Steve laughs too, out of excitement more than anything, but he's glad Eddie is making light of the situation. It's sneaky and underhanded, but it eases the guilt hearing him joke about it, even if this was going to mean something to Steve but nothing to Eddie.

Steve quickly tidies away his tapes and almost dies when he notices he'd left the bottle of lotion down here and quickly kicks it under a chair to worry about tomorrow. He turns off the light and decides it's too dark, but with the light on, it is too bright. He decides to light one candle, so a bit of light is cast around the room, but the main lights are all off. Then he tries to find the most casual standing pose he can, trying a few, realizes he's being stupid and then fluffs some cushions, just to put the energy somewhere.

The door opens soon enough, and Eddie barrels in, tape deck in one hand, box of tapes in the other, which also now contained his lunchbox, some fresh beers, and the partially emptied bottle of liquor. His silhouette stops dead in the doorway.

"Why's it so dark in here?" Eddie asks a little nervously.

"Well, I thought, if you couldn’t see me, you could maybe pretend I was someone you wanted to kiss, you know. Maybe that would help?" Steve says kindly. "I can put the lights on if you want. It doesn't bother me." 

Eddie dumps the things in his arms, W.A.S.P still pouring out of the portable tape deck's speakers. "No, no. You're right. This is good. I trust you to be the expert here." As he turns and walks towards Steve, the light hits his face, and Steve can at least see and hear he's smiling a tiny bit.

"Ok, so, here is what I think, and if any of it feels like it's gonna make you or is making you feel uncomfortable, just say, ok? You're under no pressure here," Steve reassures him, and despite how much he wants this, he does mean that. "I thought we could do it standing, and I'll keep my hands by my sides, just in case you are worried about anything I told you earlier, and you can just go for it. No judgment, and I'll help you if you want me to, ok? Eddie's rules," Steve says kindly.

"Eddie's rules," he repeats and steps forward toward Steve, who is busy trying to be as still and least intimidating as he can, but he can see as Eddie approaches he's shaking, almost vibrating.

"Are you cold?" Steve asks, concerned.

"No, just nervous," Eddie says, his voice trembling.

Steve lifts his arms slowly from his sides to either side of Eddie's shoulders. "May I?" He says, and Eddie nods. Steve places his hands on Eddie's upper arms.

"Look at me, Eddie." And those big brown doe eyes sweep up to meet Steve's gaze. "You've nothing to worry about. You wanna not do it. That's fine. We can try another time or never speak of it again. If it's awful, you've lost nothing. I'm not someone you need to impress with this, and I'm not gonna tell a soul for obvious reasons. You're safe here." He rubs Eddie's arms gently. "And if you wanna crank the music up, move me somewhere else, change the lights, or anything at all, you can. Eddie's rules, remember?" And Steve knows this image of those sweet candle-lit eyes looking at him for reassurance might be etched into his brain forever. He removes his hands and puts them down by his sides. "Consider me like, I dunno, like a mannequin or something."

"Alright," Eddie says quietly. He's still shaking a little but not as much, and it is adorable, even if it is a million miles from the wild rock star Steve had pictured in his imagination. It is stunning, nonetheless. The candlelight was a mistake. He looks beautiful in it. 

Eddie does turn the music up, and on his way back to Steve appears to be psyching himself up, pacing around and rolling his shoulders, like he'd seen plenty of times in locker rooms before a game, and he desperately wants to laugh, but doesn't want to shake Eddie's confidence. So he waits with the same patient, friendly smile on his face.

Eddie finally takes a few steps towards him. "Ok, I got this. It's just like mwah and done. Easy." Eddie speaks his inner monologue aloud whilst staring intensely at Steve's mouth before his eyes flick up to Steve's, who returns a kind nod. Eddie rubs his hands together. "Right, here goes nothing."

Eddie closes the gap, and just like that, Eddie Munson is kissing Steve Harrington. It is one of the most fantastic and agonizing things Steve has ever experienced. Eddie's mouth is so soft and pillowy. This close, Steve can absorb the full bouquet of his aromas. Alcohol, weed, tobacco, leather, pine, patchouli, musk, engine oil, a hint of gasoline, and it's so heady Steve wants to roll his eyes back into his skull and live here forever. He smells like high-speed rock ‘n’ roll, and Steve wants it bottled. And yet, at the same time, he's restricted. He can't reach out to pull Eddie closer. He can't deepen this kiss. He can't plunge his hands into his wild hair or explore under his shirt. He has to stay perfectly still for Eddie.

Steve unexpectedly adds 'Good Kisser' to his Eddie assessment.

This memory would always have to be Steve's secret album track. One hidden after minutes worth of silence right at the end of side B that wasn't even labeled on the album itself. Hidden away from prying eyes, only there for him when he felt like delving deeply enough, but he knows this is always going to be in his top ten. A mental polaroid, their mouths perfectly fitted together just like this.

Eddie tilts into it a little more, and Steve's every fiber is crying out to match his energy, but he promised he'd stay still, but he could be pliant. There is an extra wave of alcohol between them as Steve feels pressure from Eddie's tongue, teasing his mouth to part slightly. He obliges willingly but knows not to give too much. Eddie's doing the driving here. He tries to relax by forcing his focus on the music.

Magic runs through my fingers-

One touch you'll see

Steve feels Eddie's hand gently touch the side of his face as if instructed by the singer, but then he pulls it away quickly. Steve breaks the rules, puts Eddie's hand back on his face, and pats it. Trying to let him know it's ok, but Eddie pulls away entirely. However, he keeps the distance minimal. The smile on his face is enormous, and Steve mirrors it. 

Steve wants to let out a sigh so full of longing it might launch a million love songs from bridge to chorus. A lonesome howl. Instead, he does what he's supposed to. He keeps the beat and holds that friendly smile like that didn't just happen. Like that kiss wouldn't be embossed onto his lips whenever he hears a singer croon about unrequited love. His hand forever pressed against the window pane of a place he's not on the list for.

"See, easy. You did it, man. First kiss. Check. Done." Steve draws a tick in the air with his hand, but Eddie isn't looking. He might not even be listening. Instead, his eyes are still trained on Steve's mouth.

"Say, could I get a redo on that? I noticed something, and I wanna try something else," Eddie says excitedly, and Steve can hardly believe his luck. Praise whatever powerful being is allowing this to happen right now.

"Sure thing. It's your time. Anything I can help with?" Steve asks, trying not to sound too eager to please.

"Can you, um, how can I put it….can you kiss me back this time, so I know what that feels like?" Eddie asks, the grin on his face unmoving. A Roy Orbison 'Have Mercy' rings through his brain. For Steve, it might as well be Christmas right now, it's not everything he wants, but it's something, and to be honest, the universe has let him get away with a lot this evening. 

L.O…V.E.

Keeping his cool and calm facade up, he replies, "Yeah, sure, I can do that. It's your rules, man. Your hands are fine, too, by the way. Sorry if I scared you. I was trying to let you know it was ok." He smiles more gently, and Eddie nods before turning around quickly to turn the music up even louder.

Steve notices that Eddie isn't shaking anymore, and that sweet innocent look in his eyes appears to have disappeared entirely. It feels ridiculous to even think, but if he was going to label how Eddie looks right now, he'd use the word ravenous. The backdrop of the guitar screaming out of the speakers only makes Steve's pulse race faster. Even Eddie's posture is straighter. He’s standing a little taller. His eyes don't move from Steve's mouth until he's swaggered back to where he was, their noses an inch or so apart; his eyes flick up to Steve's, and he actually winks at him, but before Steve can process what all these changes mean or where they've come from, their mouths connect again, and he is literally manhandled. 

Eddie's hands yank Steve's arms around him, leaning his back against them like he wants Steve to touch him. Meanwhile, Eddie's hands are taking a whistlestop tour of Steve. Pushing and feeling over his torso and arms as they make their way up to his neck and into his hair, Eddie eases Steve's mouth open with his own, tugging gently on his bottom lip.

The message center in Steve's brain is in two distinct factions right now: Team 'What the hell is happening?' and Team 'Hell yeah, let's fucking go!". Only then does he remember he should be doing something other than letting Eddie paw over him and try to engulf him entirely. 

Steve kisses Eddie back, licks into his mouth with all the hunger he'd been restraining, and lets his hand smooth up Eddie's t-shirt. The feeling of his body through the fabric would be unforgettable. Steve's hands are the steady grounding bass groove to Eddie's hurried electrifying lead. He is in the throes of it now, so it's really not his fault that when he feels Eddie tug on his hair slightly, he instinctively roughly pulls Eddie closer, pressing them together. The force of which pushes a grunt from Eddie, making a bolt of lightning shoot straight into the pit of his stomach. 

This is the Eddie he'd been fantasizing about, powerful, rough, brain-frazzling, just like the guitar riffs he'd been listening to that night. Who knew it was lying in wait behind one little kiss? Maybe Steve wasn't such an awful judge of character after all. He isn’t sure what is going to happen after this. Perhaps they'll be so embarrassed they'll never talk to one another again, but the lines have been crossed now. So as far as Steve is concerned, he is going to sprint into this tryst until Eddie close-lines him to the floor by simply telling him 'No' or 'Stop'.

The loud music in his ears, and the sweet melody Eddie is playing with his body, makes Steve flip the bird at the angel complaining on his shoulder as he moves one of his hands to grip Eddie's lithe waist, thumbing into the flesh with the safety barrier of the material between. The other moves all the way north to get lost in that wild mane between his fingers as he grips into it lightly, doesn't pull, just wants to feel around in there, and it is glorious. He feels Eddie's tongue retract from the wrestling match it had been having with his own, his lips smile against him before he tugs hard on Steve's hair, tipping his head backwards with force, making him emit a noise he hadn't ever heard himself produce before, inspired by a place somewhere between pleasure and pain.

Both panting for air, Steve, though in an awkward position, decides to make light of the situation. He doesn't want Eddie to stop and figures humor will let him know everything is still good. "Not bad for a second kiss, Munson."

"Careful, Harrington. You wouldn't want anyone to think you're having a good time here, innocently helping out your new buddy, right?" Eddie's sultry smile descends into a smirk as he licks a fat stripe from the base of Steve's throat all the way up to his chin, along his jawline until he's dragging his teeth over his ear, and now Steve's eyes do roll back into his skull, his eyelids flutter shut, as he feels his blood thunder south. Steve decides that the town is wrong, Eddie doesn't worship the devil. The level of temptation and amount of sinful thoughts surging through Steve right now might mean that he is in the hands of Apollyon himself. Relief sweeps over him as Eddie finally pushes him into a wall, glad for something to help keep him standing.

He worries about the potentially embarrassing firmness rapidly developing below his belt, and a good Steve, a wise Steve, would tell Eddie to ease up, but those Steves are out to lunch. The only Steve remaining is munching on popcorn, yelling more, more, more, and switching every sign to green. "Jesus Christ, Eddie," is all he manages breathlessly.

Eddie's hand is still firmly holding Steve's head back as his other hand caresses his face and starts to move achingly slowly down his neck and chest as Eddie rasps in his ear, "You know, Harrington, you really should learn to ask more open questions." He must see the look of confusion on Steve's face because he laughs deeply, and it vibrates through Steve's body, not helping his current predicament in any way.

Another tug on his hair, and the hand on his chest moves lower still. Eddie's fingers trace gently along the outlines of his muscles through his sweatshirt. It's only then Steve realizes his own hands have turned limp against Eddie. He forces his eyes to look to the side to finally meet Eddie's in the darkness, waiting for answers that aren't emerging. Steve dips the fingers of the hand on Eddie's waist, along the waistband of his jeans, and he runs them around it gently until he finds a belt loop to hook a finger into and pulls Eddie against him again. A gasp and groan swim into Steve's ear. At the same time, he feels Eddie's stiffness against his hip. Steve bites down so hard on his own lip he's sure it might draw blood. "What do you mean?" He manages when the ability to think and speak finally returns.

Eddie deeply chuckles again before slowly, rhythmically thrusting his hips against Steve, causing a harmony of noises from them both. "Mmm, we sound good together, don't we?" Eddie purrs as his eyes trail over his face. The rough denim shifts the fabric of his trousers over his leg. The outside has the firm pressure from Eddie, but it's when the material gently brushes up and down the inside of his thigh that is really causing a cerebral malfunction. Steve should stop him. This is too far, too telling, he's exposed what he is, letting him get away with it, but if he does, this might never happen again, and he wants this so badly. Everything about this guy is musical. His tempo and basal noises are like sinful arias that Steve wants on repeat, his fingertips moving over him, conducting Steve's body to do exactly whatever he wants. Eddie ceases his pelvic onslaught. "I have a confession," he mutters gently as his fingers move to the lines where Steve's abdomen meets his hips, making Steve's usually very comfortable slacks feel like his worst enemy. "You see, I kinda didn't lie, but I didn't tell you the whole truth either." 

On instinct, Steve's fingers have been working away at freeing Eddie from his clothes. This is usually where a girl might bat his hand away, or if he was lucky, they'd help him out by removing it themselves. Eddie doesn't do that. He keeps his eyes on Steve and does nothing to stop or aid him. He simply allows it. With the freedom he's clearly been bestowed, Steve isn't sure why he doesn't immediately relieve Eddie of his clothes. Instead, it makes him untuck Eddie's band tee much more slowly than he actually wants to, like carefully unwrapping a gift. But as Eddie stops talking, he stops untucking. A smile ticks at the corner of Steve's mouth like he's playing a little game. Eddie pushes him lower slightly, so he can look down into his eyes as he tilts his head, raising an eyebrow. It's a spinning coin of who has the power here, and Steve didn't realize until right now how soul-stirring that could be.

"We were talking about girls, right?" Eddie continues, a subtle tremble appearing in his voice, and Steve teases some of the fabric free as he speaks, his finger accidentally ghosting over the skin underneath. Eddie's words cease. Steve stills his fingers and watches him crumble slightly. Eddie whines and bites his lip, nodding, before taking a deep breath. "And everything I said about girls was one hundred percent true. I'd never outright lie to you. It was just a simple twisting to just see if…." Steve continues around his waistband until he realizes Eddie is repeating himself, and he starts tucking the t-shirt back in and moves his hand away. "No-no-no," Eddie says much more quickly, dropping out of his deep sultry tone to something Steve is more used to hearing, and he pouts.

"That's cheating," Steve smiles up at him.

"Sorry, sorry," Eddie apologizes and takes Steve's hand, placing it back where it was. "Please."

"Then confess," he says sternly, making Eddie wet his lips with his tongue.

"I hadn't kissed a girl. I tried. I like girls. I dated a bunch." Eddie's storytelling trait leaves the building, as all he is left with are short sentences, his eyes looking for Steve's hand teasing the material until the shirt is entirely free. He swallows thickly before he speaks again, "And I did give up after I chickened out a few times. That was all true." Steve's hand slithers under the soft cotton fabric of Eddie's T-shirt, and as his fingertips touch Eddie's stomach, his head flies back, and Steve can see his Adam's apple bobbing away, as he unleashes a string of whispered curse words into the air; his chest heaves up and down, and his grip almost pulsing in Steve's hair. He stays perfectly still, waiting for Eddie to return from wherever his brain and Steve's touch just sent him. Lets his hand linger, hoping it weaves a white-hot print into his skin forever. Hopes the place is accidentally brushed over one day, and this moment swamps his brain like the sweetest refrain.

'Cos bad boys they do

After a few seconds, his head lowers again, looking intensely into Steve's eyes, and he can feel the smooth abdomen and rise and fall against his palm. Other than the subtle movements of their bodies, they are caught in a stalemate. Without breaking their shared lustful stare save for an occasional blink, Steve flexes his trembling fingers lightly so the tips of them brush featherlight against Eddie’s softer-than-expected skin, and Eddie’s eyelids flicker for a moment. “So if that was all true, what was the lie?” Steve asks softly as his fingers graze over small patches of his torso, making minute circles that he is unsure about dealing out. Steve had felt a sizable number of bodies before, but this one is hot as a volcano and potentially just as volatile with one incorrect shifting of the fault-riddled ground they’d made together tonight. He has no idea what is too far here. Steve feels he is walking a high wire of intimacy. One wrong move and it could all be over. It all comes flooding into his mind at once how very little he knows about Eddie. How potentially dangerous this could be. What if Steve crosses a line, and it sets him off? Steve’s heart pounds in his chest, unsure of how to proceed.

With his head still tilted back in Eddie's hand, he looks down his nose and gingerly reaches out for Eddie's hand, wraps his fingers cautiously around his wrist, and to his relief, he lets him take it. He places it on his wrist, partially obscured by the T-shirt it hides under. Steve meets his eyes again, and Eddie’s hand chases after Steve’s under his shirt. He looks down at Eddie’s chest, can make out the bumps of his knuckles through the cotton, and spreads his fingers slightly so they disappear, and Eddie’s digits fall into the spaces between his own. A slight glint of a smile twitches at the corner of Eddie’s mouth as he tightens his grip and moves Steve’s hand over his body with a gulp, watching Steve like a hawk, and for a moment, he thinks maybe Eddie is just as scared of him. He moves their hands slowly to his chest, and his eyes close as he licks his lips. His chest is rising and falling much more profoundly and hurriedly now. He smooths their loosely joined hands slowly down him to his side, over the ripple of his ribs under Steve's fingertips. Eddie observes Steve the whole time, and the tension is eating away at him, so he pushes. “You didn’t answer. What was the lie?” Steve asks again.

Eddie's hand leaves him, and his skin misses the red-hot heat of his palm already. It shoots out to the side of Steve's head against the wall, and Eddie slowly bends his elbow to lean his face back into Steve’s space. Steve tries his absolute best to stay calm, but his heart thunders in his chest, and his eyes flicker back down to Eddie’s mouth. He feels a deep ache—one more kiss. One more, and then he’ll stop.

Eddie’s smile grows to a wicked thing above him as he studies Steve’s face. "The lie? No, Steve. Not a lie, just not the whole truth. I’ve never kissed a girl, and I do like them. But I also like guys.” Steve’s eyes must betray him entirely with surprise because Eddie’s grin widens, ”And I kissed a whole bunch of them a whole lotta times," he manages before adding to that total by kissing Steve ferociously, clashing them together almost painfully and pulling away roughly, "and you can't really blame me when the hottest guy in the universe offered me a kiss for nothing. Out of the goodness of his precious, kind heart." Eddie’s eyes drop lower, and soon he’s gone from where Steve can see. The next thing he feels is his soft wet lips mouthing over Steve's throat. The quick switch to gentleness has him finally releasing his hair and cupping the back of his neck. "You forgive me, right, sweetheart?" He speaks it into his skin, and he’s right. He does, but he can’t currently articulate the words to do so. Steve is pleasantly surprised that Eddie duped him. That means that Eddie wanted him, too, right? Maybe not in the same way, but in some way. A smile breaks on Steve's face as he lets the wave of pleasure crash over him as frequently and as heavily as they like. 

Make the grade.

He adds ‘Phenomenal Actor’ to his Eddie assessment list.

Steve laughs, making Eddie stop, but Steve doesn't have time to reassure him. The danger is gone, but it is no less exhilarating. He finally uses his strength to push off the wall and trade places. Eddie looks confused, maybe even a little scared, until he scans over Steve’s face centimeters from his own, smiling broadly, laughing in between pants for breath. As Steve pushes off him and removes his blazer and sweatshirt, Eddie no longer seems so worried.

"What did I do to deserve all this?" His eyes rake over every newly exposed inch of Steve, which feels like the most glorious thing in the world. Eddie wants him. It is looping over in his brain like a scratched record.

They're gonna drive me crazy yet.

"Well, let's see, you told the truth." Steve pushes his hardness into Eddie's thigh, and the relief from that tiny bit of contact is almost enough to make Steve collapse onto Eddie, but now he knows they had both been misleading one another a little, and he wants to play up to it.

"I did, I really did. I was so good for that, wasn't I?" Eddie agrees enthusiastically, his eyebrows pushing together as he looks from Steve's face to the friction between them as Eddie slides against him again, and Steve almost short circuits.

Prior to right now, Steve's general part in this kind of dynamic was mostly being grateful. Grateful for a girl, to let him touch her in any way. Even with Tommy, it was almost like a mutual science experiment, but Steve has found two new things he was into in the few short minutes of whatever this was developing between him and Eddie, so he pokes at one. 

"But you also made me aware that someone as good at acting as you cannot be trusted." Steve rolls his hips away from Eddie, leaving him shaking his head quickly in a sort of panic, and watching Eddie crave him like this was sending undulating shockwaves throughout himself. Sure, he's been the subject of coy glances, big eyes full of affection, maybe something close to love, but to be desired so desperately is not something he is accustomed to. It prickles at his nerve endings until his whole body feels so sensitive, like the merest hint of a breeze against it could send him crashing back into Eddie for more.

"It wasn't all acting, I swear. I was nervous about kissing you, but for different reasons than I said," Eddie babbles. His fingers dig into Steve's forearms as he grasps for them. Make that three. Usually, when he was gripped this way, it was by the soft pads at the ends of dainty fingers, maybe even the light scratches of perfectly manicured fingernails. Eddie's fingers aren’t like that. The tips are covered mostly in calluses from playing the guitar, and the roughness of his palms is probably from working with his hands. Steve suspects it's perhaps his van. Immediately jealous that it might be from all the rough surfaces Eddie has pushed other guys up against. He shuts his eyes momentarily as the textures graze across his arms, and his brain takes him to a sweltering hot day, Eddie leaning into the engine of his van, sweat dripping from him, covered in streaks of engine oil or grease, and it is doing Steve no favors in his attempt to calm down. He listens to the music around them for a reprieve, but it doesn't come. The singer only urges him on. He wonders if Eddie selected this album intentionally. If it was part of his plan all along, to bewitch Steve with a wicked potion of himself and the suggestive lyrics in the air.

That smokin' powder keg you're riding on is hell-bound

Steve rushes him, throwing a forearm over his head and leaning his whole weight against it on the wall so he looms over Eddie, breathing hard but keeping a distance between their bodies, hoping to create a chasm between them that they’d fill with the desire behind their eyes. He carefully leans in and speaks his words into Eddie's slightly parted mouth. "Would you have forgiven me if our roles had been reversed? If I had tricked you tonight?" His eyes rise sleepily from Eddie's lips to his hooded eyes, and a shuddering breath escapes the man under him, and Steve's stomach flips.

"Yeah. Yes. A million times, yes. I'd forgive you." Eddie looks like he's in pain as his words drip with yearning. Steve smiles down at him, and he can see the wave of realization move gradually across Eddie's face, "You tricked me?" He says slowly in an unbelieving whisper. His big eyes look up at Steve so innocently for a moment that it makes him positively growl into Eddie's neck because this is fucking sensational. He knows at any point he could throw up his hands, and Eddie would take the reins, or he could continue to overpower him, dominate him like this. He honestly can’t read what Eddie prefers, but he also had no idea what he liked better, either. It all feels good, maybe a little too good.

At the altar of rock 'n' roll you'll kneel.

"It wasn't a trick, exactly. It was more a bending of the truth and then a little pushing my luck," Steve says quietly as he mouths down his neck, his tongue tasting the sharpness of cheap cologne that Steve wouldn't have replaced by anything more expensive. It is perfection. He latches on when he reaches the base of his throat, hoping to leave Eddie with a memory of this evening, a warning to anyone else that sees it, at least for a few days, making Eddie hiss a breath between his teeth. Increasing the pressure as the guitar desperately wails in the sweet syrupy air around them. At first, he thinks he might have been too rough and hurt him until Eddie's hands guide his head back for more. "You like that?" Steve asks for the first time.

"I'd like it better if the rest of you wasn't so far away," Eddie half-complains.

"Yeah, well, I'm not sure you deserve it after being so deceptive." Steve laughs, taking his throat between his teeth again and sucking down. He dares to glance up at Eddie's expression and regrets it immediately because he looks like absolute sin, his head thrown back against the wall, sweat sticking his hair to his face, his kiss-swollen mouth hanging open like it's desperately waiting for something obscene to fill it. Though he can't see them in the dim light, he bets those coral pink triangles of blush are adorning his face right now.

Hellion! The devil's Hellion child

"You're not really selling the whole telling you the truth thing, you know?" Eddie catches him staring up at him and grins until he's cut off by Steve bursting another bunch of his blood vessels to decorate his pretty neck. Then he's catching his breath, gasping, and sighing into the air above them as his eyes slide closed. 

"Yeah, but imagine how much more you could have right now if you'd been good," Steve says as he releases and towers over him again, and Eddie lets him, despite them being roughly the same height. A mischievous grin spreads across Eddie’s face as his hips rut forward and grind against him again, almost taunting him. It feels so sinfully good. Steve almost whimpers but presses his lips together just in time. He looks at Eddie, who is already watching him, with a slightly arched eyebrow. As their eyes lock, he does it once more. His brow knits, and his mouth drops open a little. Steve recognises it as almost too much. A moan rolls out of him in the silence between songs, and Steve can't resist that open invitation to capture it. But the next song seeps into his ears, slower, gentler, and Steve lets the music puppet him. He reaches out to cup Eddie's jaw, thumbing at his cheek where he can feel those little patches of heat hiding in the darkness. The music slows his touch and breathing. He lets his eyes search Eddie's for the keys to unlock what he's holding back. Eddie releases a sigh.

Click.

Look, look in the candlelight.

Completely lost in the moment, he finally lets his mind take him and Eddie somewhere else entirely. Suspended in a dark nothingness, only one another's highlights revealed by the faintest light until flames burst from the floor to lick at their bodies. He claims Eddie's mouth with his own and tastes him again, consuming his sounds of pleasure like it was the ambrosia of the gods. He mentally adds to his Eddie assessment.

Exceedingly good at reading me.

As Steve draws back again, just to escape how good Eddie feels, before this ends too soon for his liking, Eddie says, "Come on, Steve. If I'd been really good and told no lies, neither of us would have much of anything right now." His hands move over Steve's body as smoothly as his voice fills his ears until they find their way around his waist, splay out against his back and pull him in closer again. "So maybe, don't think about it too much. Maybe call it even and don't think about anything at all." Eddie's hands move lower, grazing the small of his back, gliding into and over the dimples there, until his fingertips are playing with the back of his waistband, and he slightly dips them inside of it. He raises his eyes to Steve's and holds his gaze through his eyelashes, and Steve realizes he's silently asking for permission. 

And cry out the name of which I yearn.

Eddie doesn't know, but this is the furthest he's ever gone with a guy. He and Tommy had a few make-out sessions. There had been some moments where other parts of their bodies had brushed against one another, but primarily accidental, not purposeful like this. Not urgent wanting like this. It was the hands above the belt rule that kept it safe, that kept it in a forgivable friendly experiment zone. Even if they'd ended up visibly aroused by anything, they'd laugh it off, slap one another on the back, and find a bathroom each, as far apart as possible. This is not like that. He desperately wants to cross that line, specifically with Eddie, but the icy fear is steadily creeping its way past Eddie's flaming hot hands and up his spine. If he stepped over that line, there were no excuses then. It's only when Eddie speaks again he realizes he's frozen. "Steve? Hey, you ok?" Eddie's fingertips immediately retreat to the outside of the waistband of Steve's slacks.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine, I'm good," Steve says confidently, even laughing for good measure, but inside, he is terrified. He surges forward to kiss Eddie again, who accepts, but Steve notices it's much more like their first one. Soft, slow, gentle. He feels the firm pressure of Eddie's arms surrounding him, and it's a sorely needed comfort to slow down the insanity that is going on within him right now. Eddie's eyes scan his face. "Is that as far as you got?" He asks, and there is that kindness in his voice again. He's changed back to the guy that cared enough to be there tonight for Steve, with absolutely no idea there was anything in it for him at all. Steve swallows nervously and nods, looking down to the floor, a little embarrassed that his fear had suddenly surpassed his enthusiasm. He doesn't understand why Eddie isn't upset right now, why he isn't pushing him away, calling him a cocktease, or something worse. Sure Steve had never in his life treated anyone like that, no matter where they paused or stopped proceedings, but from what the girls revealed to him as he'd hold them in his arms, reassuring them it didn't matter, it wasn't a big deal, most guys got pissed about it. He was an exception.

"Steve. It's ok." His arms tighten around him, and one hand starts rubbing a soothing circle on his back as he stands to his full height again. 'Look at me. Please"

Steve quickly glances at him and looks away just as rapidly. "Can you try to look at me for a bit longer, please? I know it's difficult on account of how hideous you find me." The smile in his tone is evident, and Steve dares to look again. "There you are," Eddie says with a huge smile, and Steve offers him a weak one back. "Remember earlier, we were talking about Eddie's rules?" He brings a hand to touch the side of Steve's face, carefully moving a few strands of hair away from his eyes. Steve can't bring himself to say anything. He looks down again and feels stupid. Eddie catches his chin on the crook of his index finger and tilts his head back up. "Well, number one on the list of Eddie's Rules is all parties have to be into what's happening at all times. Understand? Because if you're not into it, I'm not into it, ok? That's how it works for me. I'm not being a martyr here," he smiles and looks down where they are still pressed together. "When I know someone's having a good time with me because of me, that's my thing. That's what gets me off." Eddie pretends to be deep in thought as he looks back up. "Well, that and a hundred other things probably, but that's definitely my favorite and most important." He lets out a soft laugh that makes the tension boiling in Steve rest to a simmer.

Steve casts his eyes down to the collar of Eddie's t-shirt, rolls it between his fingers and sighs, "Sorry. I know it must seem like a weird line to have, considering everything else we’ve been doing. You must be disappointed," Steve says regretfully, and Eddie laughs so loudly, making Steve’s eyes snap to him in alarm.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Do you have any idea where I've been for the past I don't fucking know minutes? I'm day-slash-night walking in fantasy, Steve. You have no idea how many times I thought about this. How many different ways. I never. Hand on heart. Never thought it would happen. And believe me when I say I thought I had a fantastic imagination, being a storyteller, a musician, and a dreamer, but nothing I came up with was anywhere close to how amazing this is. Seriously." His hand cups Steve's jaw, and his thumb runs across his cheekbone. "So no, sweetheart, I'm not disappointed. I am a man, light years away from the town of disappointment, ok?"

Steve smiles but rolls his eyes with his patented half-smile. Eddie looks and sounds genuine, but he can't help but feel maybe he'd wanted or expected more.

"I know what you're thinking, Steve. I think I rammed my tongue so far down your throat I tasted your innermost thoughts, so I'll be one hundred percent honest with you. I would be lying if I said I didn't want more. But I always want more. It's who I am. I'm greedy for attention, affection and, right now, you. I am. I'll hold my hands up to that. But I am not disappointed. So you've got nothing to apologize for except being so damn delectable. And maybe don't even be sorry for that because-" Steve cuts him off with a kiss that sets off a box of exhibition-sized fireworks inside of Steve, an orchestral crescendo that runs in ripples over his skin. Fuck, he likes this guy so much more than he thought he did or could.

"You know, I can talk more if that's how you'll keep me quiet the rest of the night?" Eddie smiles as he blinks back into the present. 

"You know I'm in one too?" Steve says quietly, brushing the sweat-dampened hair from Eddie's face.

"Huh? In one? One what?" Eddie looks completely bamboozled.

Steve chuckles, making Eddie's face light up. "I mean, I'm in a fantasy too."

"Fuck off!" Eddie exclaims so loudly in shock it makes Steve lean back. "You are not!" Steve nods, and Eddie's mouth is wide open in excited surprise as he gestures to himself. "Me? Really?" 

"Yeah," Steve says softly, draping his arms around Eddie's neck.

"You have no idea the inner turmoil I'm in right now. Like, I know, I can't tell anyone about this, and I won't, but if I could, shit, the fucking urge to rub this in all their stupid faces is strong. Steve Harrington was fantasizing about lil' ol' me." He flutters his eyelashes. "Feed my ego, Steve. Tell me everything, please."

"Ah, no. That's private," Steve says, frowning a little.

"Ok, ok. At least tell me for how long?" Eddie asks, his arms around Steve, shaking him left to right with excitement, and Steve sighs.

"Since yesterday." And almost immediately, Eddie pouts his downturned lips as his shoulders sink.

"Damn, you don't mess around, do ya?" Eddie replies with a lot less excitement.

"Ok, so you definitely seem disappointed now," Steve remarks.

"Yeah, that's because I am." Eddie pouts again, and Steve is amusedly taken aback by his honesty. At least this reaction confirmed he was telling the truth moments ago.

"Why? Like, why be disappointed about this and not me ruining everything," Steve asks curiously.

"Ok, stop. You ruined nothing. This is different. I just learned you'd been thinking about me, and I guess I imagined it would have been for longer than a day, Steve. What? No pining? No finding out when I'm on shift so you can watch my fine ass walk by? No, Eddie daydreams out of the window. Just one day? How? How is that possible? What did I do yesterday that I didn't do any other of the days we've known one another? I look the same. I act the same. Is it? Is it because you think I'm turning over a new leaf with a legitimate job? Because you should know I'm not." Eddie lets the words leave him like rapid fire as he puzzles through the situation, "Is it name tags? ‘Cus I can get my hands on as many name tags as you want. Oh, wait, is it because I asked for your help? Like a good Samaritan kink or something because, again, my teachers will tell ya I need all the help I can get."

"It's because yesterday I knew, well, I hoped you were like me," Steve answers.

"Oh, the liking guys thing?" Eddie guesses, and Steve shakes his head in a no, and Eddie wrinkles up his nose adorably.

"Music. You talk out loud about music, the way I feel inside about music. In the record store, the way you described the Hendrix album felt different from when you were assessing the others, and earlier tonight, the way you talked about this one," Steve gestures to the air to indicate the music still playing, "and then you knew what I was talking about when I talked about those sensations. And I thought maybe you'd get me. And then I remembered you were in a band, and I thought how amazing that must feel, to play these things and feel like I feel when I only listen to them. Then I couldn't stop thinking about how you might look, getting totally lost in it." Steve takes a breath, realizing how amped up he is talking about this, staring intensely into Eddie's eyes. He's suddenly aware he's talking louder, excitedly, his hands around the back of Eddie's neck, twisting his fingers into Eddie's hair. "Sorry." He says with an awkward laugh and dials it down a few notches back to normal Steve levels.

Eddie says nothing, only gazes back at him, a soft, thoughtful look on his face, blinking a few times before he says, "Don't stop on my account." And right there in a dimly lit room, W.A.S.P still playing loudly in the background, half-dressed, his hair wildly disheveled, Steve Harrington falls for Eddie Munson. 

Shit. This is bad. Fooling around, secret crushes and fantasies were one thing, but this? This is something else entirely. Dangerous even. But Steve knows. He emphatically knows the difference between something purely physical, something lustfully wanton, and this. This spins his head like a record, his stomach turns cartwheels, and his heart isn't pounding quickly like the hooves of galloping wild horses anymore. It's thudding. A resounding, steady thud. A bluesy John Lee Hooker boom, boom, boom, boom.

"Really?" Steve asks carefully.

"Do you know the level of nerd you have in your arms right now? I mean, I'm a pretty, foxy one at least, but yeah, really, Music was the first thing I remember being completely obsessed with." Eddie smiles. "I had no idea until we were by your pool that music wasn't anything but background noise to you or something to dance with girls to. All I knew about you was you liked sports, were rich, a little bit of a bitch, and so goddamn pretty. I would happily talk about and listen to you talk about music for hours." 

Steve wants to ask, but he just stares. He doesn't want to scare Eddie away, but he wants to know if this is just tonight, some fun between friends, or if…if there could be a tomorrow, or next week, or month, or year, or fucking forever.

"Wanna share with the class?" Eddie says, with a sweet encouraging smile.

"Well, two things, one for you and one for me," Steve says. "Which first?"

"Oh, definitely you first, sweetheart," Eddie drawls, and Steve desperately tries to focus on his words and not any hidden meanings that his body is trying to convince him of right now.

"So, I was wondering, and it's absolutely fine if not, but do you maybe wanna hang out again tomorrow or another night this week?" Steve asks, using his confident mask.

"Like we have tonight?" Eddie asks slowly.

"Yeah, or just-" Steve tries to answer.

"Stop right there." Eddie presses a finger to Steve's still-speaking lips. " Yes! Absolutely yes, Steve. Yes. It's a yes. Big fat, yes. Thank you very much," Eddie answers firmly without hesitation, before a colossal grin breaks across his face, and then he suddenly looks puzzled. "Wait, that was for you? What in the world do you have for me?" But Steve has stalled now. He's still processing how eagerly Eddie agreed, and he's very aware of his own breathing and the pulse in his ears until he's snapped out of it by a ringed hand waving in his face.

"Earth to Steve. Helloooo?" Eddie tries, and Steve tries to remember what he was talking about before he started plotting out their future together.

"So, for you, yes, erm, ok, so kinda embarrassing, but I thought you might like to know that whilst I only fantasized about you for one day, it was…." Steve licks his lips and blinks like he can't believe he's going to say this out loud, but he wants Eddie not to be disappointed. He looks into Eddie's expectant eyes in the darkness. "It was, um…intense and um…vigorous." Steve sees his eyes go a new level of wide before he looks impressed with himself.

"Oh-ho-ho, really? Now that does make me feel a little better." Even in the low light, his huge toothy grin is beaming at Steve. "You know I can run out to the van any time you like, grab that guitar and happily give you your own private concert."

"You would?" Steve asks dreamily as he thinks about that image momentarily and slides closer to Eddie until their silhouettes merge into one against the wall.

"Oh yeah, with fucking bells on." Eddie grins, his eyes dropping to Steve's mouth again, then looking him up and down. "Is this you indicating you might wanna rewind and within the lines have a little more fun now?"

"Yeah," Steve breathes against his lips. "That ok?"

"That ok?" Eddie playfully mimics and laughs. "Yes, of course, gorgeous. Absolutely ok! Maybe, as I'm staying over anyway, we can do the same tomorrow too?" Eddie says, walking Steve backwards to the couch, his eyes lazily looking over Steve's face as he guides him to sit and lowers him down, cradling the back of his head gently to lie back. "Ok, like this?" He asks as he shuffles into his lap. Steve nods happily and wraps his arms around Eddie's waist.

"Who knows, maybe tomorrow won't be the same? Maybe a sweet, handsome, nerdy guy can help me get a little further tomorrow? Because with him, I'd really like to eventually. You know, do more," Steve says positively; though he can feel the heat rise up his face, he is smiling up at Eddie as he leans in close and presses a kiss to his lips before sitting back and taking off his t-shirt. Eddie pauses like he's allowing him the time to look over him. Steve makes a mental note of all the places he's going to explore later, all the ink buried in Eddie's skin he's going to get intimately acquainted with every minuscule detail of, maybe even leave his signature next to them, so Steve can be buried under Eddie's skin there right along with them.

"From what I know of that guy, he will be more than eager to assist, but he's also not in any kind of rush. He'll be beside himself that he got so fucking lucky to get his lips on the second hottest music nerd in town." And before Steve can laugh and reach up to playfully push him off, Eddie leans down against his hand to kiss him longingly, his untamed hair draping around them both like the softest black-out curtains against the outside world, their sounds intertwine harmoniously once more as they breathe one another in and out. 

Symbiotic. Just like Eddie said.

Whilst their song sends Steve's imagination into the serenity of outer space, his fingertips of the hand wedged between them moves over Eddie's skin, across to the center of his chest, until they find what Steve's been after for so long. 

A beat that wholeheartedly moves him.

[rvllybllply2014]

Wait I have another thought about girl dad Davos. It’s a modern au.

He has twin girls that are starting kindergarten and he has two more girls, one is three and the other is two, that are starting pre-K and a six month old baby girl that is going to daycare. It’s the first time since his precious princesses were born that he’s leaving them for eight hours. He’s an emotional mess, which causes all of his girls to be one too. He tried to tell Willem that it was too soon for him to go back to work after his wife died, it doesn’t matter that it’s been six months he’s not ready especially with his oldest two starting kindergarten. Willem doesn’t care he tells Davos as much.

Anyway Davos drops his three and two year old daughters off at the pre-K attached to the school. There was a lot of tears and an almost meltdown from them. Davos thinks his heart will literally break into a million pieces by the time he drops the twins off.

His oldest two are independent but even they’re a little nervous, they missed the kindergarten round up that the school held so they don’t know who their teacher is going to be. They luck out though because their teacher is Aeron, but please call him Mr. B. He’s in his fifth year of teaching and is basically an old pro at calming the students and parents. He reassures Davos that the girls will have so much fun making new friends that the day will fly by and before anyone knows it, it’ll be time for pick up. Davos leaves after giving his girls big bear hugs and a million kisses. Aeron thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

Luckily for Davos his baby’s daycare is in his uncle’s building and he can visit her on his lunch break. Which he does, but he also checks the nanny cam throughout the day.

As soon as the work day is over he’s grabbing his baby and practically running out the door, after he gets her in his chest carrier.

At the school he picks up his daycare daughters first. The daycare workers tell him they were absolute sweethearts and they made some new friends. Davos is relieved by the report, he also makes them hold his hands while they go to pick up their sisters.

Aeron is absolutely surprised by the amount of well behaved girls Davos has coming to pick up the twins. He gives Davos the same report of how well behaved the girls were, how eager they are to learn and that they made new friends. Davos thanks Aeron for taking good care of his kids, Aeron tells him it’s all a part of his job and it’s also easy when the kids are well behaved.

Davos doesn’t take all the credit, he gives most of it to his dead wife saying how she valued manners and politeness the most. Aeron is sorry to hear about her, Davos responds with it’s been six months she died right after giving birth to their youngest. She’d had a stroke right after giving birth.

The school year passes fast and before either Aeron or Davos realize it, it’s time for the kindergarten graduation. Davos had been such a classroom parent for his girls that he doesn’t hesitate to help, when Aeron asks him to help plan the class party after they graduate.

Aeron doesn’t want to lose his friendship with Davos and now that the girls are finally out of his class decides that it wouldn’t be improper to ask Davos out. It could be a friend date or something more if he wants? They go on a date and hit off, Davos eventually tells his girls that he’s dating Mr.B and he’s really happy. His girls are happy for him and tell him as much.

Davos and Aeron end up getting married right before his second youngest starts kindergarten. She ends up in someone else’s class, but Aeron is always watching out for at recess and lunch. He also makes sure that she comes to his room at the end of the day so Davos can pick them both up.

[equallyshaw]

little lion | Luke hughes au! ↠ all about luke and liona. ↠ au Masterlist! ↠ also not in order, these are random thoughts!

met in october 2023

they do not officially date until 11/04/2023

split time back and fourth between newark and greenwich village

the type of couple to wake up at sunrise, get a coffee and bagel from the corner truck and walk through central park

luke is for sure the one that runs into pigeons and acting like a fool

only to get kailey to laugh

life's mission of luke is to make kailey happy and laugh at all times

intimate touching instead of kissing in public, always having to hold hands or have a hand on a thigh, of their lower back. especially if they go out at night, luke makes sure they are glued to each other at all times

the most competitive board gamers (monoply- absolute feral and scene it harry potter- she will kill whoever- including luke to win. so will luke.)

kailey got luke into harry potter and made him read the books early on in their relationship

actually, she got him onto reading in general. will read anything now.

luke demands one broadway show a month from kailey, meaning they put on the cast album and she belts out the songs with him.

luke absolutely adores kaileys mom, helen. will constantly ask about her and shamelessly asks for home cooked meals from her.

kailey adores it and whenever he gets homesick, she brings him over to her mom's or invites her to hang out and he's grateful for the relationship

luke does not meet alex until July when she invites him out to Washington dc for a visit

one of their favorite dates is to go to painting or paint pottery

they also like to go to watch movies, because she is a movie fanatic and it's something simple to do

her first game that she goes to is the last home game before christmas break, with a win over detroit

nicknames for kailey: pretty girl, calls her by her middle name 'kai', my romashka - meaning my cammie or chamomile, and my lioness

nicknames for luke: pookie, lukey, my love, darling, and Mashunechka (an generic intimate nickname)

huge fans of ice cream and ice cream dates

huge sweettoothes in general

when summer comes around, kailey visits michigan as much as she can between working her nannying job and working at the local bookstore in georgtown.

once her dad finds out about him, kailey and him go to cape cod

around their 6 month mark, kailey see's something on social media and quickly feels like luke might be cheating on her based on the limited space between the two. she even calls her dad about it, but does not mention specifics.

their song is: say yes to heaven, by lana del ray

just like how people belt out to taylor swift and are obsessed with her? that's them with olivia rodrigo and tate mcrae. no hesitation.

when kailey's in a particular mood or stressed with school, luke will come over to her apartment or she will come to his and jacks and they will have a star wars marathon.

as a fashion major, she feels entitled to update his fashion. as well as jacks, because they both need it.

she researches curly hair routines, and the both of them continuously try new things to find out the perfect routine, for him.

she teaches him russian, dubbed "little lion lessons". she teaches him the basics and simple greetings and conversation words. he surprises her though about six months in when she is having a harder time with her mental health, and gives her a whole ass talk in russian and like she thought that she knew he was the one she wanted to marry. but she REALLY knew he was the one.

luke learns enough russian to have a basic conversation with kailey and alex. alex is pretty stunned to say the least. he goes, "you mean he didn't flunk out of highschool?" in old slavic to which luke didnt understand.

uncle geno is the BIGGEST fan of the two

she tells him before she tells her dad

when pittsburgh visits new jersey, he invites her out to dinner along with luke.

in summer of 2024, she joins the cast of hadestown at the off broadway theater for a limited time run as eurydice, for the month of august. luke comes to her first week of shows before heading to michigan to get some things settled, before pulling quinn, jack and his parents for the finale on the 29th. after a two-day staycation, her and luke head back up to nyc and jersey for the year.

cape cod is their place - they get a offseason house in 2028.

luke and kailey ended up going 4 times during their first summer being together

they have a very important talk one morning over coffee and croissants and just know that that is where they are meant to visit at least once an offseason.

some angsty thoughts:

once she graduates in 2026, she has a hard time figuring out what she wants to do. her dream is to open a boutique clothing store in manhattan somewhere or on the cape or georgetown, but doesn't know short term.

ends up going to Washington for about two months, and it just so happened to be when alex was moving from Washington to new york to get back together with kaileys mom once he retires at the age of 41, a year after kailey graduates, he and her mom decide to give things a go again after some really good years the past few.

but she's in Washington while he is back in michigan, and even though luke is trying his hardest to give her the space she needs and craves, its difficult. he is moody af and at times does NOT train.

kailey calls sent a text over in july, stating she needed a break for a bit and that she would reconnect with him once the season begins.

luke has such a shit show of a summer after that + the beginning of season.

kailey spends july through September in the hamptoms with her parents, after alex helping fulfill her mom's dream. summer in the hamptons. (for longer than a week)

luke gets hella jealous because andrei visits for a week in august before heading back to carolinas. he hates how close the two are now that they are on a break.

OH and he also does not like her bestie chris, and thinks he still is in love with her but we'll get a blurb for that at some point hehe

when kailey returns to nyc with her parents she does not expect to see luke in the city.

he always used to say he hated the city when he was not with her

that the reason he loved the city with her, was because she gave it life and energy. he loved seeing it through her eyes.

she was very shocked to see him and he was stunned too. he didn't expect to see her the first time he headed into the city.

but nico being the swiss princess that he is, has to come up and greet her when she goes to dinner with her parents at Soho house

and then the rest of the group comes up, and alex is NOT happy

he doesn't care for any of them, she whispers in russian "be nice dad."

but he see's luke and relaxes a bit.

he really likes luke and began to feel like maybe they could be the real deal before their break.

but anywho

alex talks some sense into his daughter (calls her a dummy) and literally drops her off at the train station to head down to jersey to talk to him. (will get blurb at some point!)

and she does

and yknow, they get back together and what not.

and ofcourse, not without luke promising that he's gonna marry her one day. even though they had talked about it many times, and their future together- she knew it to be soon.

hope you all enjoyed!

please like and reblog if you did (:

[theobsidianempress]

The Nanny

WARNING: This story contains strong language and sexual themes. If you are UNDER the age of 18 - GO AWAY!

Summary:

Everything was going well for you. A good paying job, just graduated with your masters in child psychology and development along with your teaching certificate. Things seemed to be on the up and up until your boyfriend’s ego go in the way. Before you knew it you were living with your mom again in your childhood bedroom. You decided that rather than wallow in self pity, you’d put your degree to some use only that seemed to be harder than you thought. At the end of your rope you decided to look at the private ads and answered one for a single working father with two daughters. That turned out to be one of the best decisions you ever made.

Chapter 1: Perceived Slight

You had graduated from university with your masters in Early Childhood Development and Psychology about a year ago. You had always wanted to work with children. The only problem was finding a job that worked with you. Working in a school sounded like a good idea until you realized that you weren’t a morning person and dealing with a classroom full of toddlers first thing in the morning sounded like hell on earth. You had to do that as an internship and while you loved the kids you helped teach, you knew you could not do that again. You thought about opening your own private practice to be a child therapist… only there was a lot of fees and red tape to get through. So, to make ends meet while you figured your life out, your boyfriend graciously offered you a job at his store in Ginza.

Working in Ginza in a high-end suit shop definitely had its perks. The amount of cute guys that would stop in to look for a suit to purchase was mind boggling. Only, your boyfriend was the manager and it would have been wildly inappropriate to flirt with the clientele even if they openly flirted with you. You did your best to shut down their advances and, most of the time, they listened to you. This seemed to placate your overly jealous boyfriend. He would watch you like a hawk when you welcomed in someone that was mildly more attractive than him. He knew he was nothing to sneeze at but he should’ve had more faith in you. You loved him. You would never leave him for someone else just because they were more handsome. That was vain. You were anything but. You could definitely appreciate a pretty face, any woman would but that wasn’t the only thing that mattered to you.

You tried time and time again to explain this to him but he was so far up his own ass that nothing you said mattered. Usually you two would fight and not talk for a few days before you would cave in and beg him to talk to you. That song and dance had worn you down so much that you threatened to leave him. Multiple times, actually. But every time he would throw a fit and threaten you back, whoever you managed to get with after him, your mom, anyone he could think of. One time he even threatened to end himself. Each time he got you to cancel the break up and stay with him and put up all over again with his toxic bullshit. His constant flirting with other women, his backhanded and degrading comments and so on. You figured he would have changed back into the sweet man you’d fallen in love with. The one who would bring you flowers, bring you coffee and buy you lunch unprompted. You hoped that he would go back to the way he was but after every fight, every comment, every time he talked you down, that hope seemed to fade away.

The door to the shop swung open bringing you back to reality. You looked around and every single one of your coworkers were occupied, so this client was yours to attend to.

“Welcome! How can I help you today?” You put on your best customer service smile and approached them. You couldn’t help but notice, aside from how tall he was, that his hair was snow white. He tipped his round dark shades down his nose to look at you. His eyes were the bluest you had ever seen. It became all too clear who was standing in front of you — Gojo Satoru, the owner of G-Tech Industries. It was like seeing a unicorn. You saw his face plastered on ads all over the city but you never once thought you’d be graced with his presence. You played it cool and acted like he was just another client. You had to. If you began fawning over him like he was the second coming of Jesus, you’d get your ass chewed for a lifetime from your boyfriend, who was of course staring you down from the till.

“Well aren’t you just the prettiest little thing? You’re gonna be helping me today, huh?” He said. Aw shit… Not only was he an ungodly amount of attractive, he was also a flirt.

“I’m not all that pretty, sir.” You down played his compliment, “What can I help you with today?” You repeated.

He put away his shades in his blazer pocket as a smirk tugged on his lips, “Pretty and humble. Cute.” He strolled right past you into the show room as he spoke, “I’m looking for a new suit for an event I have coming up. I want something a little different from the usual boring suit but nothing ostentatious. Think you can help me with that, gorgeous?” He asked as he glanced over his shoulder.

You knew the inventory inside out and luckily, you had gotten some pieces that would work with what he was looking for. “Absolutely, sir. It just so happens we got some new pieces in that I believe would suit you quite well.” You said confidently, “Please follow me so I can get your measurements.”

It didn’t take a genius to know that Gojo was checking you out. You really were pretty. Nice figure, nice size chest, sweet face and a melodious voice. You made anything you wore look good and even the worst of news sounded pleasant. As you lead him to the fitting area you could feel his diamond gaze graze over you. It wasn’t something you were used to. Yes, you were used to being ogled but this was on a whole new different level. You couldn’t deny that being looked at did something to you, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. You were at work and you could see your boyfriend out of the corner of your eye pretending to do inventory while he watched you. That’s right… you had a boyfriend whom you were committed to and no amount of sensual eyeing would change that.

Gojo glanced over his shoulder at your tailing boyfriend. He quickly pretended to be doing something else but now it was obvious he was watching you.

“Pathetic…” You heard Gojo mutter under his breath.

Normally, you would have defended your boyfriend’s actions, but now you had to agree. His behavior was pathetic, but there was nothing you could do. You pulled a set of measuring tape from your pocket and began taking his measurements. That was a task and a half. You were on the shorter side, hitting no more than five foot four. So taking measurements for someone that was six foot three and seemingly all legs was hard. It took you several attempts to make sure you had the right numbers. The last thing you wanted was to come back with something that was too short. He had to deal with that enough. It wasn’t until you realized you had to take his waist measurements that your heart decided that your throat was its new home for the time being. No matter how hard you tried to swallow it back down and hide the flush of your face, it became increasingly obvious that Gojo did get to you. Anyone else you’d take their measurements and keep it moving. Since the illustrious Gojo Satoru was your client, the idea of being so close to him — even for just a moment — had your stomach doing flips and your heart threatening to stop. It didn’t matter what side or what angle you approached him, it still made you blush. You could see your boyfriend’s face redden with anger. That seemed to put your heart back into a normal rhythm.

“I am a professional and I have a job to do.” You thought as you went in.

You ignored the amused smirk on Gojo’s face as he watched you wrap your arms around him. Even though it was something you’d done a million times before with a million other clients, somehow he managed to fluster you. Or maybe it was the fact that your jealous boyfriend was watching you fiercely.

You scribbled the last of his measurements in your little note pad, “Alright! I’ll be right back with your options, Mr. Gojo.” You turn on your heels before he can say something flirty. You feared that if he did your boyfriend would kill the both of you right there.

As you’re picking items and scan the racks for anything that will work with what your client is looking for you, you feel a hand on your shoulder spin you around. Your heart sank into the depths of the ocean when you saw your boyfriend.

“What the hell was going on out there?” He seethed.

“Nothing. I’m just doing my job.” You say as you attempt to finish.

He let off a cold chuckle that would make the winter wind jealous, “Nothing? You really expect me to believe that that was nothing?” He gestured behind him.

“Yes. Now we are at work and I have a job to do.” You put up your own cold front and try to move past him.

He didn’t move. In fact, he dug his heels into the carpet, “Oh, no. You’re not getting away that easily.”

You looked up at him through your brows, “I don’t care how you feel right now. We are at work and have jobs to do. If you’re incapable of doing that then go home.” Like you had any power to send him home. You watched as his fist and jaw clenched and unclenched. Steam was practically pouring out of his ears and it looked like it was taking every ounce of control he had not to throttle you right then and there. Without a word he moved aside and let you finish your picking before you scampered back out to your awaiting client.

He was sitting there, leaning back with one leg propped up on the other in one of the plush seats scrolling on his phone. He hopped up when he saw you with arms full of options for him. You led him over to the changing room and hung up everything nicely for him.

“Sure you can’t join me?” He quipped.

“I’m afraid not, Mr Gojo. That would be highly inappropriate.” You said as you left him to change.

As you waited for him to emerge, you felt cold. You knew that today, after work, you were absolutely fucked. You hadn’t done anything wrong but in your jealous boyfriend's mind you might as well been sucking Gojo’s dick right then and there.

“No matter what I do… It’s like he’s always looking for some reason to be mad at me…” You muttered to yourself. You shook your head trying to reset like an etch-a-sketch. You needed to be present for your client. That’s what mattered right now. It didn’t matter if your boyfriend was the manager or not. He could take his fragile ego and shove it up.

As if on cue, Gojo emerged in a navy blue suit with subtle detailing throughout. It wasn’t noticeable from afar. It was once you got up close and personal, you could see the detail in the fabric. You could tell by the smile he wore that you’ve done your job. It fit him well and the darker blue made his eyes pop more so than they already did.

“What do you think?” He asked.

You smiled, “I think It looks great.” You were just doing your job and affirming what Gojo already knew.

He went back in and changed back into the suit he came in with. He handed you the options he didn’t want and you put them on the ‘go-back rack’. In his arms were the midnight one he had modeled for you along with a black one that was similar.

“Is this all for you, Mr. Gojo?” You asked as you gestured to his haul.

“Not quite.” He said as he wandered over to the display for ties and tie clips.

You helped him pick out a few ties and tie clips for the suits as well as a few sets of jewel studded cufflinks. When he was ready you lead him up to the till where your manager of a boyfriend was waiting. You paid no mind to the rage burning behind his eyes. You typed in your code and began checking out the items for your client. Commission came standard with working for a luxury store, but that was the last thing on your mind as you cared more about the experience you provided. As you rang up his purchases, your mind began to swim with the amount of zeros you saw. Okay, you cared a little about the commission. You were gonna eat good with that commission check. You held it together as you gestured to the card reader. Unlike most places in Japan, your store was card only. It made sense with the type of clientele you dealt with.

You watched as Gojo swiped his black card through the reader. It sang its song of approval and you began to bag his purchases. You walked him over to the door and handed him the bag with both hands and a respectful bow.

“Thank you for shopping with us, Mr. Gojo. I hope your experience was a good one.” Your customer service smile was on full display.

He took his bag with a sly smile, “It was better than “good”, it was phenomenal, thanks to you, beautiful.” He gave a wink before putting on his round shades and leaving.

The second the door closed the other girls came swarming around you saying how lucky you were and fangirling over the fact that you got to help THE Gojo Satoru. They shot off questions faster than a Tommy gun. You only answered questions you heard and downplayed the entire experience. It wouldn’t be long before another customer walked in causing all of you to scatter and look busy.

The rest of the day went by as normally as it could. You would help customers that would come in, your pathetic boyfriend would tail you under the guise of doing work around the store and you would carry on as if he was nothing more than a lingering fart in the air. Rinse and repeat until you got to clock out. Since you were staff, you got to leave earlier than your boyfriend and you couldn’t thank the Gods above enough for that. Your two cats greeted you at the door with happy meows as if asking you how your day was.

“Hello mommy babies!” You chirped. You dropped to your knees as you beckoned them both to you.

“Hi, Yuki. My little snowman.” You pet his soft white fur as he gently headbutt your left hand.

A larger tabby cat came trotting up to you with a happy twitching tail, “Hi Mochi! My chunky boy!”

You had an hour or maybe two before he would come storming into your shared apartment and cause a ruckus. The anxiety that racked you couldn’t be quelled no matter what you did. Take a shower, soak in the tub, have a glass of wine, read a book - none of that helped. All you could do was listen to the door noises. Listen for his footsteps thunder down the hall and his keys jingle as he unlocked the door. Only this time… He didn’t come thundering down the hall like an angry bull. He didn’t fling the door open hard enough to bounce off the wall. He didn’t shout at you and look around the apartment until he found you. He came home like nothing happened and that worried you more than the latter would have. Your boyfriend was not the ‘calm’ kind of angry. When he was pissed the whole building knew. So, what the fuck was his deal?

You poked your head out from your shared room, “Babe?” You called cautiously, “Welcome home.” You practically tiptoed out to the kitchen where you could hear him rummaging around in the fridge.

“You hungry? I’ll make you a sandwich” He said as he closed the fridge with his foot.

You stared at him like he had two heads, “He’s being nice? What happened? Why is he not throwing things and screaming at me?” You wondered.

“You good, babe?” He asked as he grabbed some plates from the cupboard.

You shook your head, “Y-yeah. I’ll take a sandwich.” You smile.

The rest of the night went by without a hitch. No screaming, no yelling and no breaking and throwing things. You cuddled up to him with your cats resting on your feet. You fell asleep as if nothing happened.

Even the next morning played out like nothing happened. You two ate breakfast together and even headed to the store together.

“Something isn’t right…” You thought as you walked alongside your boyfriend. Sure he was playing as if everything was fine but you knew in your core that something was amiss. You knew that he was planning something. You just had no idea what or when it was coming.

The two of you clock in and began working as normal. You were with a client when you noticed the District and General manager walk in. That also struck you as strange because you knew for a fact they weren’t due for a visit until the end of the summer. It had just turned spring.

“What the fuck are they doing here?” You barely had time to explore the thought before your client called for your attention. Today had turned out to be a busy day. Client after client coming in running you and your colleagues ragged. Only later in the afternoon did the rush die down. You were sitting on a plush chair chatting with another one of your coworkers when the district manager approached you.

“Y/N, would you mind coming back to the office with me?” He asked.

You looked at your coworker then back to the district manager, “Sure.” You hopped up on sore feet to follow him. Call it intuition or pure anxiety but you knew something was wrong. Why on earth would he want to talk to you? Somehow you knew this wasn’t a sort of “You’ve been doing so well we’re going to celebrate you” type deal. Yeah you were good at your job, but you weren't an employee of the month/year good.

The second the door opened to the office it became clear why he wanted to see you. The district manager took his seat next to the general manager and, next to her, was your boyfriend and another one of your coworkers.

“What’s this about?” You asked cautiously as you sat down.

The general manager shifted uncomfortably in her seat, “We’ve gotten reports of inappropriate behavior from you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Inappropriate behavior? You’re not serious. In my time here, I’ve not done anything that could be considered inappropriate.”

“This is no laughing matter, young lady.” The district manager said, his tone akin to a father scolding his child, “We cut you a break when you began dating your manager, but now you have the gall to flirt with clients.”

It was at that moment it clicked… You were getting fired all from a perceived slight of your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend.

“Sir, I can assure you that I was not flirting with clients. Nor have I ever done so.” You were done for and you knew it. There was no saving you but you weren’t going to go down like a bitch.

“That’s not what we heard. We also have witnesses to back up this claim.” The district manager said.

You glanced over to see your boyfriend and your other coworker smiling smugly. There were no cameras in the store to protect the high end clients that came through the store. The more you thought about it… there really weren’t any other witnesses that could attest on your behalf. Everyone else was occupied with either a client or some other work that needed to be done, or they had gone to lunch. All except her… All except that smug bitch that was sitting in the corner with your boyfriend’s hand on her thigh.

Oh… Oh… it all made sense now. Why he wasn’t mad with you. He had someone else and this was his way out.

You took a glance around the room. Taking in the disappointed looks of the general and district manager and the smug grins from two trashy humans. Normally you’d be shaking and crying, but something in you didn’t seem to care anymore. You couldn’t find a single fuck to give and that was alright with you.

“Frankly, I don’t care what your false report or witness has to say about my behavior. I did nothing wrong and I will stand by that.” You turned your attention to your well ex, now and his new girl, “You have got to be the most pathetic and jealous man I have ever had the displeasure of dating. You were a waste of my time and energy and I hate that I fell for your garbage for so long. You are disgusting for using your power to get me fired over nothing. But since we’re here for ‘inappropriate behavior,’” You used air quotes, “How about we talk about the fact that you’ve been stealing merchandise from the store and reporting it as sold? Or the fact you’ve been shorting people on their commission for MONTHS? Yeah you didn’t think they’d notice did you, babe? When you have me run reports for you because you’re too lazy to do your damn job, I noticed a thing or two.” His smug look was immediately replaced with one of shock and anger. You turned your attention to his new girl, “You can have him, honey. Trash deserves trash. Just be prepared to cut all of your other male friends and family out of your life. And may the heavens help you, if so much as look in the direction of another man. His jealousy is absolutely atrocious, but he can flirt with all the other women in the world and you just have to be okay with it.”

There was nothing that they could say. He knew you were right about him using his power and more than likely using your other co-worker to back up a false claim but he wasn’t expecting you to come in with shots of your own.

You turned your attention back to the general manager and district manager who were looking at you with shocked looks on their faces, “I’ll save you the trouble of paperwork and quit. I refuse to sit here and be lectured about something I didn’t do and have my name dragged through the mud. I’ll expect my last hourly check and commission check to be in the mail, all of it better be there.” You got up with your head held high and walked out of the office. You cleaned out your locker only taking what was yours and changed into normal clothing, leaving your uniform on the counter. You said bye to the coworkers you liked then left. However, the second you rounded that corner the facade you wore crumbled like a crappily built sand castle. You didn’t ugly cry but you were crying as you headed back home. You furiously wiped away tears not wanting anyone to notice. You did your best by putting on your sunglasses and wiping stray tears that fell past their reflective guard. As you made your way into the apartment your phone rang.

“Hello?” You sniffled.

“You have two hours to get your shit together and leave.” It was your ex. Figures he’d kick you out, too. Bastard.

“Two hours? You can’t be serious!” Your voice cracked.

He was oh so nonchalant about this whole thing, “I am. If you’re not out in two hours when I get home, I’m calling the cops. You’re not on the lease anyway.”

Your sanity was hanging on by a thread, “Fine. I’ll be out in two hours.” You hung up the phone and resisted the urge to break down even further. You scrolled through your contacts until you found what you were looking for. You hit the call button and held your phone up to your ear. Each ring was agony, “Please pick up… please….” You begged through gritted teeth.

“Hi sweetheart! How are you?” You let out a sigh of relief at your mother’s voice.

“Hey, mom… Can I come stay with you for a while?” You asked timidly.

Your mom paused, “Did you two finally break up?” She finally asked.

You nodded as if she could see you, “Yeah… It wasn’t pretty.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.” You could hear her grab her keys.

“Thanks mom.” You hung up and knew it was time to get to work.

Fuck being nice and leaving this apartment tidy. You were mad and you were gonna take it out on him. You needed to dump your cats’ litter boxes so why not all over his bed? You decided out of the kindness of your heart to polish his expensive cufflinks… with sand paper. You also bent them out of shape and took the backings that held them in place, replaced his shampoo and conditioner with your hair removal cream, placed shrimp shells in the curtain rods and lemons on top of the cupboards where his 5’6” ass couldn’t reach.. You took a red cream lipstick and wrote in big bold letters “FUCK YOU!” on the bathroom mirror, took all the chords to his game systems and cut all wires to the TV and his PC, unplugged the refrigerator and left it open. You even took all the good food and threw it into the cat litter mess and, for good measure, sprayed all the condiments on it as well. When all was said and done, his place was wrecked. It wasn’t like he could tell building management either. You weren’t on the lease anyway.

You took only the clothes and shoes that you bought and liked. Anything else that was gifted to you by him was ripped and torn to shreds so he couldn’t regift or sell it. You packed your jewelry and sentimental items (that didn’t include that rat bastard of an ex), managed to wrestle your cats into their carriers and we’re ready to go. You locked the door and slid the key under it. All you had was a suitcase, a backpack, your cats and what belonged to them. You sat outside in the chilly evening on the steps as you waited for your mom to come and get you. You tried to shush your cats who were meowing up a storm because they were very stressed and confused by all of this as were you. This day was the second worst day of your life. The worst being when your dad died. You wished he was still alive so you could tell him about what just happened, sure he’d handle it by beating that asshole into the next century.

A dark blue Toyota rav4 pulled up in front of you. Out came your mom with wide open arms. She knew you needed a hug and by god she was going to give you one. The second her plush arms wrapped around you, you broke down into ugly violent sobs.

“I know, baby… I know… Momma’s here.” She soothed. She might have been old, but her hugs were just as warm and as tight as ever. She soothed you and rubbed your back as you wailed all the while telling you, “It’s gonna be okay.”

When you had decided that you had cried enough, did she finally let you go. Through hiccups and sobs, the two of you loaded your things and cats into her car.

“Thank you…” you said as you ran your sleeve across your face. Your mom reached over and squeezed your thigh, “You don’t have to thank me, baby. You know I’ll always be there for you.”

[momotonescreaming]

We know that Steve thinks his Dad is an asshole, but he doesn’t really mention his mother other than a few off hand comments. She goes on his Dad’s business trips because she doesn’t trust him not to cheat, she’s well respected in Hawkins, and Steve used her as a reference when he applied for the job at Family Video. So I got to thinking about what if she was a good person also trapped under the pressure of Mr Harrington, just like Steve? What if Steve had a good relationship with her? And this happened

Mrs Harrington who loved her husband once, who had a husband who loved her back. She loved his ambition, his drive, his dedication. She didn’t love it when it started to turn into him spending all hours at the office, at business meetings. When it started to turn into something money hungry. But it was his job. He knew best. Right?

Mrs Harrington has a baby because she wants one. She’s always wanted to be a mother. Mr Harrington has a kid because it’s What You Do. You have a kid so they can take over your company, carry on your family legacy. Uphold the Harrington name. His reputation. A nanny can raise them when they’re little. When they're older they can follow in his footsteps. Popular, likes cars, plays basketball.

Mrs Harrington raises little Steve as much as she can. He’s a little Mama’s boy. She’ll go to the salon to get her hair done and Steve sits in the chair next to hers, driving his toy cars up and down the seat. Steve drags her outside so he can show her this “Really cool swimming trick, Mama!” and she watches him happily from the porch seats, commenting that he swims so well is he sure he’s not part fish? He’ll watch her put her make up on and get ready for a Charity Gala she’s organising. He tells her she’s beautiful, Mama and she’ll run one of her big fluffy make up brushes across his cheeks so he can be beautiful too.

Steve gets older and Mr Harrington takes over in shaping Steve’s life. He’s a man now. A Harrington. Mrs Harrington isn’t quite sure what to do. She thinks her husband might be a bit harsh but he was a teenage boy once, he must know what’s best for him. Right? He’s the man of the family. The head of the household and what he says goes. She isn’t so sure now, but it’s what her father always taught her. It’s what she always learnt in Church. She fawns under his harsh gaze and feels the guilt churning in her gut as she doesn’t know what to do. Steve starts pulling away from her, and her husband keeps flirting with his young secretaries.

It comes to a head in Steve’s senior year when she’s with her husband on a business trip in New York. Her husband’s secretary gets a call that Steve’s in the hospital after getting into a fight with another student - Billy Hargrove. Her husband brushes it off as ‘Boys will be boys’. A Harrington shouldn’t have lost. Maybe this will teach him about consequences. Did he even think about what this could have done to their reputation? He doesn’t tell his wife.

Mrs Harrington is the only one in their hotel room when the secretary calls again with an update from the hospital. She finds out that he knew that their only son was in the hospital and didn’t tell her. It’s the last straw. Her husband comes back to the hotel room smelling of expensive liquor and someone else’s perfume. They get into a screaming match and she packs her bags and calls a taxi. She calls the hospital from the airport that she’s on her way.

She gets the first plane she can and rushes straight to the hospital. The nurse at the reception desk tells her what room he’s in and she tears up as soon as she sees Steve.

“Oh my baby. I’m so sorry.”

Steve locks eyes with her and his eyes water. “Hi Mama.” His voice is quiet.

She rushes over to hug him and his teary eyes turn into violent sobs, her whispering comforting nothings to her baby boy as he cries. She came as soon as she heard, she’s so sorry, he’s okay now. She doesn’t tell him yet that she wasn’t there earlier because her husband didn’t tell her. Her wedding ring feels heavy on her finger.

When Steve is recovering at home, asleep in the other room, she rings a divorce lawyer.

[blindmagdalena]

One thing I’ve always wondered is how tf would he have dealt with INFANT Ryan? We saw how he acted around baby Teddy. (Ok, sure, he already couldn’t stand Teddy for other reasons. But I’m assuming that given his powers, nothing would annoy him like infant crying/whining.). Also, there’s only room for ONE little teething temperamental psychopath in the Vought Americana Casa Mojo Dojo House (tm.) It’s barely possible for people without anger issues to get through. Would he have hired help? Tried to work something out with Becca? I just can’t see him up at 2 AM scrubbing bottles after finally getting baby Ryan to sleep. I also can’t see him willingly only seeing baby Ryan on the weekends and holidays.

long story short: he probably wouldn't have. Homelander has a very unrealistic and (unhealthily) romanticized view of parenthood that is extremely central to HIS experience. to what he gets out of it. while he would absolutely be involved, you're right about scrubbing bottles. he isn't going to be doing that.

obviously the difference between how he treats Teddy vs his own son is going to be night and day, but if he couldn't get Ryan to stop crying? he would pass him off for sure. he absoLUTELY expects Becca to be handling all that as the mother. his job is to teach, protect, provide. very archaic mindset, and a narrow view of parenthood. he likely would have been a lot more focused on making sure Ryan was learning his powers as early as possible and ascending in much the way HL himself did. he's a lot less focused on the boring fundamentals of teaching a child to be a person.

realistically, what Homelander wants out of fatherhood is to rewrite his own childhood. I think he would be incredibly bossy when it comes to how and who cares for his child, even if he's not really willing to do it himself. given his experience, he wouldn't want nannies. he wants family.

he'd be overwhelmed, and frankly i think that's something we're going to see explored in s4 even with an older Ryan. children are their own people, they're not just extensions of their parents own dreams and wishes, and that's something that Homelander is going to struggle with in any timeline.

[resident-gay-bitch]

Steve had developed a habit of calling Robin at horrid hours of the night. He’d wake up from a bad dream, screaming in a cold sweat, and he’d dial her number and make her talk about her day, or a movie she liked, or literally anything because it took his mind away from everything bad and calmed him down. He always made her say goodnight. And then, when Robin had bad dreams, she’d call Steve too, and he’d do the same for her. One night, a couple of months ago, Steve got a call in the middle of the night. He knew it was Robin, who else would call at this time of night? When he answered all he heard was heavy breathing, and it made him sit up straight in bed, reaching for the bat he kept at his side every night.

“Hello?”

More heavy breathing, and then a sniffle, and then a sob, “Steve?”

“E-“ Steve scratched his head, releasing the bat from his grip, “Eddie?”

“I didn’t want to wake you, I just…” He sniffled again.

“Are you crying?” Steve leant back against his headboard.

“I can’t sleep.”

Steve nodded, “Okay…”

“Have you ever… do you get bad dreams, Stevie?”

Steve sighed, shoulders relaxing as he took a breath, “Yeah. All the time, man.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I mean- sorry. Not good. Just… I’m glad i’m not going insane over here.” Eddie forced a laugh, but Steve didn’t laugh back, “I had a really bad one. And I usually wake Wayne if they’re this bad, but he’s started working nights again-“

“It’s okay, Eddie.” Steve smiled, “What do you need?”

“I don’t know.” There was a little silence, “What do you do when you have bad dreams?”

“Ah, I call Robin. Make her talk about random shit. Takes my mind off it.”

Eddie nodded, “Can you… is that weird if I ask you to do that?”

“Of course not.” Steve smiled, “We’re friends, man.”

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded, swallowing down the rising lump in his throat.

“Are you laying down in bed? Comfy?”

“Yeah, as comfy as my shitty mattress can be.” Eddie giggled.

Steve smiled, “Well… what did you want me to talk about?”

“Uhm… talk about something boring. Send me to sleep faster.”

“What do you count as boring?”

Eddie hummed for a moment, “Jocks.”

“Asshole.” Steve scoffed, but they were both laughing.

“No… you, you know a lot about flowers. Talk about that. I don’t care about flowers.”

“Okay… uhm, flowers. I know about them because my nanny for like, seven years loved flora, talked about it all the time.”

Steve continued to talk, and Eddie fell asleep peacefully, mind blank. And Steve definitely didn’t stay on the line for an extra hour listening to Eddie snore, roll around, and mumble random shit in his sleep. And he definitely didn’t hear Eddie mumble his name a couple of times.

It sort of became a habit for Eddie now too. He’d call up Steve when he couldn’t sleep and Steve would make it all better. It made Eddie feel so warm. Robin tried to call one night when Eddie was on the line, Steve didn’t realise. She ended up calling Nancy instead, and Nancy helped her just like Steve did. When they talked the next day, Steve apologised profusely, but Robin didn’t care. She had talked to Nancy almost all night and got to listen to her pretty voice talk about this piece she was working on to submit to a big paper in hopes of getting a job. Robin slept soundly after that, only wishing she could still hear Nancy talk. Robin started calling Nancy more often, and vide versa. So, one night when Steve had a horrible dream and couldn’t get through to Robin, he called for Eddie.

“Of course, Steve. You do this for me all the time, why wouldn’t I wanna do it for you?” Eddie scoffed, “Any topics you find boring? I could talk about flowers if you wanted, know enough about the topic now.”

Steve giggled, “How about you talk about… Garfield? You’ve got half the comic strips memorised, right? Recite them all to me?”

“Okay, prepare yourself Stevie. Things are about to get intense.”

And so calling Eddie and Nancy became a habit for them too. And eventually everyone was just calling anyone they could get a hold of, the four of them always teaching themselves new stories or random pieces of knowledge, or memorising television episodes or song lyrics so there would always be something to talk about if another needed it. They relied on each other. And then Nancy and Robin got together, and the calls to Steve and Eddie hardly happened. They slept beside one another most nights, they didn’t need a phone call if they had a bad dream. Steve has his worst dream in months, and he knows Robin and Nancy are out tonight, down at some bar for their one month anniversary. So Steve calls Eddie.

“Your worst one?” Eddie rubbed his face, he was so tired.

“Yeah.” He shuffled, tears soaking his face, “Really need your help, Ed’s.”

“You know Wayne’s been getting on my back about the phone bill.” He sighed, “And I’m so tired, I don’t trust myself to hang up before morning.”

“I’m- I’m sorry. I’ll just- I’ll put on some music or some-“

“No.” Eddie shook his head, “I’ll just come over? Yeah?”

That made Steve’s heart skip, “You don’t have too. I’ll be okay-“

“Steve. It’s my job to help you with your bad dreams. I’ll be there in ten. Stay calm.”

“Eddie you don’t-“

But Eddie was already pulling his shorts back on, and a baggy shirt and his sneakers and was heading for the door. Steve sat in bed, too scared to move, the dark watching him. Waiting to pounce. He bunched his knees up to his chest. He heard a sound echo from downstairs. It terrified him even more, he froze. He heard a heavy thud work it’s way through his house, up his stairs, creeping closer and closer. Steve reached for his bat. He thought he was gonna die. Then his bedroom door, that he never fully closes, was being pushed open and he was ready to swing. But then in sauntered Eddie, hair a messy, eyes droopy and closing, and he was yawing. He tossed his keys onto Steve’s desk and toeing off his shoes, walking to the bed. Steve was suddenly vary aware of the fact he was wearing only his boxers and socks. Eddie didn’t say a word when he saw the state Steve was in, he just grabbed the bat out of his hand and placed it on the floor before shooing Steve over and sitting down under the covers beside him. They had never done this before. Soothed their bad dreams face to face, it was always over the phone. They never had a sleepover, and they definitely haven’t shared a bed. But Eddie was too tired to care, or be nervous, and Steve was too scared. Eddie wrapped his arm around Steve, pulling them both down until their heads were on Steve’s soft pillows and they were sinking down into his perfect mattress. Eddie groaned.

“Can I sleep here every night, man?” Eddie smiled, eyes closed and face smushed into the pillow. His voice was raspy from the sleep and it made butterflies erupt in Steve’s stomach, “Such a nice bed.”

“Not if it means I get your shitty mattress in return.”

“Fine. We can just share. Wayne’s making me pay for the phone bill now, so it will save me.” They both laughed.

“You didn’t have to come here, Eddie.”

“It was all just a rouse to get in your bed, Stevie. I’ve won.” He grinned, and Steve shoved his shoulder half heartedly. Eddie sighed, “What was your dream about?”

They didn’t ask that… ever, “Uhm… I was drowning again. And as I was drowning I was watching you die, your limbs being torn off and eaten, and I just kept falling further and further away from you and you were screaming at me to help you.”

There was a long silence. Steve wasn’t sure if he’d scared Eddie off, or if he’d just fallen asleep. Eddie sighed deeply, “I’m not dying, Steve. You did save me, remember? You carried me outta there.”

“Still… it’s-“

“Scary. I know.” Eddie hummed, “But I’m here, okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

You better not. Steve snuggled closer into Eddie, “Do your scars hurt sometimes?”

“Sometimes. Yours do too?”

“Hmm.”

“I’m glad I’m not alone, then.” Eddie smiled.

“Your never alone.” Steve mumbled into Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie looked at him, sitting up slightly, “Neither are you.”

Steve sat up too, bringing his knees back to his chest, “How are you so brave about it?”

“About what?” Eddie hummed, head tipping to the side.

“Your scars… how do you not hate them?”

Eddie sighed with a little shrug, “I’ll tell you a secret… I sorta do. They remind me of… everything. But they’re not something I’m ashamed off because they prove that I lived. So do yours.”

Steve shrugged, “They make me feel shit.”

“So do mine sometimes.”

“They make me feel ugly.” His eyes were wet as he looked at Eddie.

Eddie looked at him for a moment, his hand stretching out to smooth over Steve’s cheek, holding him at the back of his neck, “Your not ugly, Steve, your beautiful.”

Steve scoffed, “Am not.”

“You are.” Eddie pressed, “I promise, you are.”

Steve shrugged, laying back down. Eddie laid beside him, facing one another. Steve’s finger traced the neckline of Eddie’s shirt, and his necklace, and his collarbone that peaked out. Eddie lifted his hand slowly, tentatively, and traced his finger over Steve’s scars.

“These are beautiful. You are beautiful.”

Steve nodded, “Can you just talk me to sleep, please?”

“Yeah.” Eddie smiled, and started his story for the night, “Tonight, I’ll be telling you why Steve Harrington needs to stop putting himself down.”

“Eddie-“

“I’m serious.” Eddie a scoffed, looking away from Steve with a yawn, “First, he is gorgeous. One of the prettiest boys i’ve ever seen. Two, he’s so kind, and warm and has a brilliantly big heart. Three, he’s amazing at looking after the kids, would make an excellent dad one day. Four, he’s so smart, he makes me think on my toes all the time and teaches me about so many things, like flora and baking and sports, and how a turbo engine works. Five, he’s so soft. Six, he’s got the making of a Greek God. Seven, he’s not who he was in high school, he’s redeemed himself and more. Eight-“

“That’s enough.” Steve mumbled.

“Eight,” Eddie continued, adamant on proving his point, “Steve is brilliant at sports, specifically basketball and I love watching him play. Nine, he’s got a really comfy bed. Ten, he bakes the best brownies I’ve ever had. Eleven, he makes me think about my future. Twelve, Dustin does everything in his power to be just like him, because he admires him so fucking much. Thirteen, he puts others first… sometimes a little too much. Fourteen, he’s so easy to love. Fifteen-“

“You think I’m easy to love?” Steve opened his eyes, staring right into Eddie’s now, blown out all dark and glistening.

Eddie smiled, a faint whisper on his lips, “The easiest.”

Steve smiled, his insides bubbling, “You can sleep in my bed whenever you want, Eddie. As long as I can too.”

“Deal.” Eddie nodded, shuffling a little closer, “I’ve got some great luck tonight.”

Steve grinned, “Ed’s.”

“Yeah, Stevie?”

“I think your easy to love too.”

Eddie smiled fondly, cheeks turning pink, but unfortunately it was too dark for Steve to notice. Eddie brushed his nose against Steve’s, slow and calculated in his movements. Steve’s breath hitched, and then Eddie kissed him, and he melted. He pulled Eddie tighter and melted into his arms.

The only time Steve called anyone in the middle of the night now, was when Eddie was snoring obnoxiously loud beside him, and he needed Robins monologue about how adorable Nancy looked tonight to block it out.

[gayfandomnerd225]

Pt. 16 of Dead Poets Society Headcanons

Them as parents (single)

Neil

He’s trying to make up for being a single dad so he’s a good dad

The freezer almost always has ice cream in it, and he lets the kid eat it after dinner most nights

He doesn’t tell his kid much about his childhood, he just wants his kids childhood to be better than his was

He wants to be a better dad than his dad was

And he does a great job

He takes his kids to play dates, theatre shows, he doesn’t force his kid to do anything the kid doesn’t want to

He tucks his kid in every night and gives him a kiss on the forehead

He keeps them company when they’re sick and home from school, which means he gets sick too, but it’s worth it

Todd

Todd is an anxious parent (unsurprisingly)

He wants to let his kid enjoy themselves but he’s generally nervous about letting them have sleepovers and play dates

He tries to loosen up but the anxieties still there, he just ignores it most of the time

His kid is a lot like him tho, so it’s not too bad

Eventually he decides to take both him and his kid to therapy

And they both get diagnosed with anxiety

Then they both get put on anxiety meds

And then they start living a bit more freely, less anxious about everything like they used to be

Todd lets his kid have playdates and his kid manages to make a few friends

Charlie

Charlie’s a fun parent (which came as a surprise to no one)

He takes his kid to have play dates and even tho he’s a working dad, he’s a banker, he makes sure to make time for his kid

He’s a good influence, he’s nice to his nanny and tries his best to teach his kid manners

He’s a patient parent, and finally understand why he could’ve been considered insufferable when he was younger

On the weekends he takes his kid to the beach or museums, he wants his kid to be cultured and know things

Pitts

Pitts is a gentle parent

He read a lot of parents books before having a kid

He’s a careful and conscientious parent

Picking the kid up from school and helping with homework when he can

He tries his best to let his kid enjoy themself

Buying them music and even signing them up for piano lessons

He goes to every piano lesson and concert and loves every minute of it

After the concerts he takes his kid to get ice cream or another treat

Meeks

He’s also a gentle parent

He was nervous at first about being a single parent

But something about seeing the kid made him soften

And make him realize that things would be alright

His kid is his rock

He likes dressing his kid up in silly little outfits with bow ties and fun socks

Knox

Knox is probably a bit too careless when it comes to his kid

It’s not that he doesn’t care

He just feels like his kid should figure things out on their own

Like how peanut butter and cheese whiz probably isn’t a good combo

Or how staying up late watching tv probably isn’t a good idea

His kid lives freely, coming in covered in mud and needing to get a bath

Cameron

Cameron tries not to be too strict

He knows and understand where his dad went, not wrong, but where he had troubles

And he tries to not be like his dad

But there’s some things that’s just stick

Like having a strict bedtime or being careful when his kid wants a play date or sleepover

But he still lets his kid enjoy themselves

He’s just a bit more careful about it

He reads to his kid every night

Mostly poetry, and when his kid has questions about it, he answers as best he can

He tells his kid stories about Welton, mostly about Keating and the Dead Poets

[art-of-love-and-war]

hi! Can I request for an ikepri hc with babyyy? Where they bring their baby to work with them! like Sariel bring his baby to work with him like perhaps to a teaching or the princes meeting with him, and his baby was just babbling there (awe ><) . For Nokto where he bring his baby to his meeting with some higher up, and while he was working, he's also playing with the baby ( I imagine between he or licht will get a twin or triplets, depends on you which one of them). Licht/Leon bring their babies to combat practice. For Jin I can't think of anything yet, so if you got one, pleas do it hehe ( I really cant stop thinking that he will really get a twin born) . You can do a pt 2 for other princes too if you want :))

Characters: Leon Dompteur, Licht Klein, Nokto Klein and Sariel Noir and how they are as parents. Rating: General. Word count: 1,394 words  Author note: I’m sorry in advance for any ooc parts on Sariel’s, he is the shortest bit I bit since I haven’t read his route, I probably will re-write it on another hc’s for funsies as well as do the other princes. But so far I’m pretty satisfied. Also this is more of them as fathers more than just with baby kids.

[୨୧] — Leon Dompteur

He is a fun dad, and he adores being a father. 

There’s just something about having innocence in the palm of his hand, to be able to protect it, raise it, shape it. A memory of all things he could never have and a silent prayer to the sky above. 

He applies the “be the adult you never had as a child”

He won’t ever mind tending to the baby’s needs, sure, people keep saying that wetnurses and nannies are there for a reason since he is the King, but it brings him joy to be able to help his child. 

I don’t think Leon would bring the baby to combat practice, maybe during lunch breaks, but he tries to keep the little prince/princess away until they are older so they start to understand the art of war and combat. 

But all of his men have sworn complete loyalty over the little one, most are eager for when the child grows up and has their division in the army to join their ranks. 

He is super caring of both you and the baby, he always makes sure to thank you profusely for giving him a child (a first of many or so he plans *Wink wink*) 

He takes pride in every achievement of the baby, “Yes, that’s my child!” big cheerleader dad. 

Did the baby learn how to sit, crawl, and roll? He’d be over the moon. He tells everyone. 

His brothers are so done with the conversation. They can’t help but love their little niece/nephew though. 

He is a bit weak and wants to spoil the child rotten, but at the same time, he holds himself back. Wants to build character for his child but doesn’t neglect them.

He would never neglect them. 

Instead, he wants to instruct the child that while they are part of the royalty, there’s an immense gap between social classes, but everyone is equal and their lives are as valuable as any other. They are in a privileged position and it's their job to make everyone’s quality of life better with the power they hold.

 [୨୧] — Nokto Klein

While he looks like he doesn’t want to be a dad, he’d be the happiest man on earth to have a mini copy of him and you around. 

Warning, this baby/babies(?) are completely spoiled rotten, he won’t care. Your kid(s) deserve the entire world. 

You smack him in the back of the head from time to time because your baby takes longer to walk since Nokto is always carrying them around.

Just like Leon, he is also one to brag about anything and everything his child does, even as a baby. 

It also serves two very useful purposes: to get more information or to escape meetings he doesn’t want to attend (but ends up attending anyways). 

In the first place, he already likes bringing his child everywhere with him and bringing him to parties or social gatherings is a huge plus. 

Everyone fawns about him and the baby, about how a great father he is and how cute the baby is. 

“Oh, I know.” 

Having a baby in his arms gets him a chance to start gossiping with other nobles and get more information after a good talk about parenthood.

His face would get so dark if anyone ever dismissed the feelings of a child, he thinks it's so important that his child or children in the near future (hopefully, if you wish) would feel loved and have all of their needs met. 

As for the latter aspect, it seems that he has a telepathic bond with the baby. 

Does he have to walk into a meeting? Thankfully the nanny comes running to him because the baby won’t stop crying unless he holds them.

He excuses himself for a moment or tries to call the meeting off, but since he can’t squeeze himself out of his duties most of the time he ends up attending and brings the baby with him.

 [୨୧] — Licht Klein

He is absolutely scared and anxious about every action and decision he takes as a parent.

Don’t get it wrong, he adores you and your baby(s) and would be even more scared if you happened to have twins, knowing his story with his brother and he doesn’t want the story to repeat itself before his eyes.

He believes any child should be free of the burdens from their parents and he lives off by that since having children with you. 

Those dark thoughts? Those past shadows and intrusive nightmares that present themselves before his eyes? He shakes them all off with the light that shines so pure from holding his kid(s). 

Despite being a bit reluctant, knowing the tensions between him and his brother, the child seems to like Nokto a lot, and Licht relies on his brother from time to time, it's not what he would do often but he appreciates another figure the baby can start to trust. 

A thing that brings him so much joy is being able to spend time together. With you leaning against his side and the child nestled between you in bed while he hums a beautiful lullaby he knows will soothe you both, or when you read out loud to them, while the child rests flat against his chest. It's such a calming scene, even when picturing it in his mind.

I also picture Licht as the type to not bring the baby to combat practice until they are much much older; and even if having a skill in combat is important as part of royalty, he relies on his brothers, maybe Yves or even Leon to start the child on their way of learning how to properly use a sword.

When the child grows he won’t even spar with them, he fears his style of combat is too beastly and ruthless, he doesn’t want to harm them by accident or to be violent toward them, even in practice.

He is such a loving father too, he wants to be present in every aspect of their life with you and he gladly takes on any tasks that require him. 

Are you too busy one day or just want to spend a day by yourself? No troubles, he and the baby will go with Uncle Yves and have tea and sweets. Well, the baby will have milk and maybe Licht will have the entire tray of sweets since the baby is still too young to eat those. 

 [୨୧] — Sariel Noir

This man is a master at multitasking, so handling the baby any day won’t be of any trouble, after all, he almost raised the youngest of the princes so it's a piece of cake for him. 

But he’d rather that you handle the baby at most times since his line of work can encounter some awful people that might stay on his bad book. 

If he knows it will be a calm day with him staying at the office doing paperwork he’d certainly want the child to be with him. 

He can be a busy man and wants to at least keep an eye on his child. 

I can also picture him having a play-pen in his office, he can keep an eye out on the baby; if he happens to have moments where he needs to take a break, he’ll sit with the baby, watch them sleep, and play with them if they are awake.

His favorite times though, are at night, especially if hours passed without both of you seeing each other, he wants the domestic part of having a family of being a husband and a father. 

Oh, but the clouds of not-so-nice thoughts are always clouding the back of his mind, telling him how he should not get attached as all of what you had built together could disappear at any moment by the desire of anyone that considers him a danger. 

But seeing his face, you know how to scare those awful thoughts away, smiling, handing the baby to him, and watching his lips curl into a gentle smile. 

As the child grows I can picture him being a stern dad, he makes sure his child knows that they are loved and he shows it with actions and quality time you spend together as a family.

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

bound for n.y.c - g. van fleet

a/n: hi everybody! i’m back with a cool 3.6k fic about the one, the only, greta van fleet! i am seeing them at msg next week and am so excited that i just wanted to write a quick fic. please note that there’s no set ship and that it’s sort of implied that reader is in love with all members of the band and all the band members are into reader and NOT EACHOTHER. except maybe sammy and danny. let me know if y’all want anymore of these types of fic, idk maybe it’ll flop. also this is kind of fast paced and i am very sorry for that warnings: kissing, physical touch, mentions of anxiety and stress, complicated love triangles, food mentions, reader has a stepdad and a good relationship with their mom, reader being from ny, i think reader is fully gender neutral with maybe a few feminine traits but no real descriptors. also reader has tattoos and mentions of a dog that is no longer with us! no use of y/n, one mention of drugs, a bunch of references to sex, and cursing :0 word count: 3.6k summary: as tour manager, it's your job to get the boys to new york city, your home town. just don't fall in love with them, or anything. now playing: runway blues – greta van fleet

Being tour manager for America’s favorite Led Zeplin cover band, or at least, that’s what your judgmental bitch of a landlord called them once, was surprisingly difficult.

You were constantly running around after the four of them, feeling often more like a nanny than a tour manager. Especially at first. You had started meeting with them a few weeks before their World Starcatcher tour had begun, where you wore these professional, stuffy outfits. They had been referred to you by their makeup artist, who you had known from when you were an assistant to the tour manager of Phoebe Bridgers’ 2022 reunion tour.

You had been working for a producer when you got the call. Truthfully, you missed touring. It was a great way to see different parts of the country and the world, and you thrived in the chaotic environment. And you had heard of Greta Van Fleet, mostly from your grandfather, who was a huge classic rock fan, and always exploring new music via his iPad.

But you started out rather cooperating with them, wearing these stuffy outfits—Mostly long button ups and pencil skirts, while the boys showed up in comfortable casual clothes, always joking about you having to loosen up a bit.

And one notoriously hot day in early July, you showed up in shorts and a muscle tee to meet with them to go over the final dates of the tour before you all gave your go ahead to the social media manager.

You didn’t do much talking about the tour that meeting, opting instead to answer questions about your tattoos, your taste in music, your life to this point. And in exchange, they gave you pieces of themselves.

“I’m from New York,” You had answered over some late afternoon drinks. “I haven’t been home since Christmas, So I’m excited to see my family when we’re there.”

Josh’s fingers traced your upper arm, over a tattoo of your long-gone dog. “Will we get to meet this little guy?” He asks.

You only chuckled, “No, this one died while I was in college. Best dog I ever had.” You said solemnly.

And that was it. One comment about your dog and the boys were hooked on you forever. And when the tour started, you only grew closer— Sharing with them parts of your childhood, Jake teaching you the very basics of guitar, Josh taking shots with you before shows, Danny bringing you coffee to cope with those shots the next morning, and Sam holding your hand when he’s anxious, or when you’re anxious—or both.

So, by the time you make it to the boys’ first show at the Garden, you’ve developed a routine.

The bus leaves by seven a.m. from the hotel in D.C. to get to New York by nine, nine-thirty-ish. You’re craving a sausage, egg, and cheese on a bagel from your favorite deli near where your mom lives, about an hour outside of the city.

So, you wake Jake up first, as he takes the longest to really wake up, and you’re sure you’ll have to shake him awake at least twice before he really gets up for the day. Then, you go to make sure Josh is up, and hear his shower going by the time you get to it. Good.

Then, you head to Sam, who is snoring away with Rosie. You almost don’t have the heart to wake him up. Almost. But Rosie senses your presence and stands up in bed, starting to lick his face. He groans, mumbling a soft, “I’m up, Rose, I know.” You feel good when you head over to Danny.

But thankfully, he’s already up. He’s in bed, writing in his notebook when you get there, sipping his coffee and all packed up for the road. His hair is tied up in a bun, and you’re entirely grateful that he’s so good at this whole thing.

Usually, you don’t need to wake each of them up, but every few shows, the five of you, as well as other crew members, indulge in the after party. And last night was your turn to be the D.R.O. Designated responsible one.

Eventually, you get all four of them downstairs and on the bus, no real difficulties. You all climb onto the bus and begin the drive to your home state. And you can hardly take the anticipation. Seeing your family again, visiting your favorite spots, and getting a homecooked meal was keeping you going. You had moved to California for school, before traveling on a few tours, and then settling for about a year in Nashville. But you ached for New York.

While your boys busied themselves with talk, games, and music, you stared out the window, biting your thumb and ignoring the reruns of Daredevil that played on your laptop in front of you. And apparently, you were bouncing your leg intensely, because the only thing that snapped you out of your thoughts was Rosie’s head on your thigh to relax you.

You scratched her head, sighing as you closed your computer, before glancing up to the boys, who had gone suspiciously quiet.

“What?” you asked, giving them a concerned look.

“You know we’ll make it to New York, right?” Sam asked, “You’ll be there soon.” He said, holding your hand, just like he always did when you were anxious.

“I know, I’m just—I miss home. And I love touring, and usually I’m never like this, but when I realized I’d be seeing my mom after months, I just... It made me start focusing a lot more on the fact that I miss it.”

You knew they’d get it. Michigan had been their home for years, and although they loved Nashville just like you did, you knew they left a part of themselves in Frankenmuth, just as you had in New York.

Danny tossed you a blanket, “Get some sleep, Sugar. You’ll need it.” he said softly. You nodded, too anxious and tired to argue any further than that. You cuddled up to Sam, Rosie finding her way in between your legs to further comfort you.

As you drifted off, you thought about your relationship with them. Things like Sam’s holding your hand and cuddling, Danny’s very often kisses to your forehead, Jake’s gentle hugs from behind, and Josh’s well—Josh’s everything, he’s a very affectionate young man—had been, for the most part, strictly platonic. You had thought about it. Kissing one of them, asking to break the professional lines of your relationship, however blurred those had become.

But it was more than that. Over the past few months of knowing them, it had developed from you getting them from place to place, into a softer, more tender relationship. The relationship you had formed with them was something you had been desperately lacking and needing. You had only realized that you missed it when you got it from them.

You were all real true soulmates.

You woke up to the sound of a loud series of honks and yelling from outside the bus. You peeked out of the window to see people screaming at each other, thousands of people making their way to work, and tall skyscrapers overhead.

“Jesus Christ, it smells like someone died!” Jake complained, as the rest of the boys agreed on the smell being horrid. It made you grin. You were home.

You stretched and pulled out your phone, checking the itinerary for the day that you had written out in your note’s app the night before. And you were right on schedule, since you accounted for traffic getting here. It was around noon, so you decided to head over to the hotel to get settled in before the show.

Except when you got there, the lady at the front desk informed you there were no rooms booked under the name you had given them. Which was insane, because you booked a room months ago knowing how expensive and unpredictable the city was.

So here you were, a show that night, with no hotel room, and a group of hungry twenty-something year olds. You were going to scream. And they could see it on you, your muscles tense, as you struggled to not start shaking.

Josh rested a hand on your arm, rubbing his thumb gently against it as he wrapped his other arm around your shoulders. “Deep breathes, Baby. You made that reservation; these guys are just a bunch of fucking fucks.” And it made you laugh, enough to relax you. You took another minute to think, before turning back to the rest of the guys.

“Okay, here’s the plan. We must be at the Garden for soundcheck and costumes, hair, and makeup by five thirty. We’ll go there now, drop off our bags and we can go grab pizza and garlic knots at this spot I know, good and are very cool with service dogs.” You said, unable to think of a scenario where you leave Rosie anywhere except with Sam. “While we’re there, I’ll make a call, since I think I know where we can stay if you guys don’t mind a bit of a drive after the show.” No one objected, they simply got back on the bus as instructed, and headed to enact that plan.

After dropping off your things and making it to the pizza place, you step outside for that call, telling Jake to just order you a soda. The phone rings. Once. Twice. And on the third call, your mom answers, excitedly saying your name.

“Where are you guys? Did you make it to the hotel okay?” she asks, and your face melts at the softness.

“Hey, Mom, we’re in the city, getting some lunch. Listen, the hotel messed up our reservation, and now we’re looking for a new place to stay... I know it’s last minute, but—” And before you can ask it, she cuts you off.

“Well, you five can stay here! We have the guest room, your room and your brother’s room.” She decides. “I’ll cook, do they like sausage and peppers?”

“Mom, you don’t have to, it’s gonna be late when we get in.”

“And you still need to eat. I’ll see you tonight, okay? I love you baby, break a leg tonight.” She advises, even though you aren’t the one preforming.

“Alright, I love you, mom.” You hang up and head back inside, settling into your seat next to Josh, just as the waitress comes back to take your order. “We’ll have a large cheese pizza with half mushrooms, please. And a dozen and a half garlic knots.” You say coolly, not giving the boys a chance at all. You love this restaurant. It’s best you order anyways.

They all stare at you for a few seconds before you smile. “You all get to meet my mom tonight.”

“Don’t you think we should have a couple of dates before we meet your mom?” Danny asks, and it makes you giggle.

“What do you think this is?” You tease.

Lunch goes really well, and after a bit of tourism and some drinks around the city, you make it to Madison Square Garden to get them ready for the show. For a brief few hours, you have a break. Usually, you spend it catching up on some work, having some quiet time, or anything of the sort. But this is their debut at the Madison Square Garden, in your hometown. You feel an obligation to watch the show.

Before the show begins, as Josh and Jake are getting their makeup done, you relax with Sam and Danny on a couch somewhere backstage. When Jake is done, he steals your phone off the table, and holds it up to take a photo of the three of you. Sam and Danny lean in and each kiss one of your cheeks, and it makes you roll your eyes for a second before you smile at the camera, letting them be all lovely dovey and affectionate, like a bunch of freaks. Your freaks.  

When the show starts, you watch from the sidelines, cheering for them and generally enjoying the show, because you just know how important this is for them. And you eat it right up, watching your boys perform at a dream venue for so many artists.

Before they start Highway Tune, Josh starts speaking to the crowd. “This is a very special show for us. Our debut at The Garden. The Garden, how about that?” He hums. “And we’re also playing in our tour manager’s hometown... So, we have some special surprises for you in their honor.” The crowd goes wild, and your face flushes, giggling at the idea of them performing a special show just for you.

The show goes by quicker than you would like it to, because you’re enjoying it too much. And you’re really understanding suddenly why so many people are down bad for them online. They look really fucking good. When they get off stage, you just want to cling onto them or make out with them or worse, and then they go back on for the encore and it leaves you longing, wanting for more.

What the fuck is happening to you?

You get caught up in this feeling to the point where the next hour or two—Waiting for the crowds to clear out, for them to get undressed, for the bus to get there—fly by, and before you know it, you’re in the bus again, heading to your moms. Josh lays his head on your lap, and Sam has found himself cuddled up against you. Danny is leaning against Jake across from you, and Jake is just staring at you. He has a familiar look in his eyes, and you just stare back.

When you make it to your home, while all the houses are dark and quiet, the kitchen and living room light is on when you make it to your home. The bus driver has family in the area, so he’ll stay with them for the night, and pick you up early on Thursday Morning, giving you all a break from the crazy travel days.

Your mom is in the kitchen when you come in, having late night coffee and tea with your stepdad. She hears you come in and gets excited, greeting you all at the door. She pulls you in for a hug and a kiss, holding onto you for a little while, just excited to see you. When she pulls away, she grins at the boys.

“And who are these lovely young men?” she asks, teasingly.

In a deadpan voice, you respond, “The cokehead rockstars I’ve been traveling with. I’m their groupie.” You say, and she scoffs at your sarcasm.

Josh smiles, “That’s us, Baby!” He opens his arms to your mom, and she gladly hugs him as a greeting, despite this being their first meeting. And there it is again, that aching feeling you had, when you watched them perform tonight, the same feeling that followed you home. After hugs and introductions, you’re all at the dinner table, gobbling down the dinner your mom made for you. You can almost cry, enjoying the taste of her cooking after months without it.

And the boys enjoy it too, loving a filling meal after a busy show. When you have all finished eating, you make your way up to your respective rooms. You stick Danny and Sam in the guest room, Jake sleeps in your brother’s room, and Josh in your bed, with you. You could almost die.

You take out your earrings and then you lay down. Your arms are exposed, showing off the tattoos you have once more. Josh sleeps in his boxers and a tee shirt, even though your room is chilly. He lays next to you and begins tracing his fingers over your tattoos.

“What’s this one?” he asks, tracing over a ghost that’s on your forearm, right above your elbow.

“Got it during the final show of Phoebe’s tour. She has a similar one somewhere, and I guess it was my way of commemorating the tour.” You explain. He hums, and moves to a different one, asking you the origin of that one. This goes on for a while, before you kiss his palm and tell him to get some sleep.

He falls asleep quickly, and you just stare at him through the darkness. ‘Are you dreaming of me?’ You want to ask, a hand reaching out to run your hands through those vicious curls. Before you know what, you’re doing, you cuddle up to him, laying your head on his chest. When you feel his arms wrapped around you, you begin to drift off, confident that you did not overstep any boundaries.

When the morning strikes, you get up and realize Josh is still asleep. You wiggle out of his arms and leave the room. You must be lost in thought because you bump flat into someone without even noticing. It’s Danny. His hair is wrapped up in a towel, and he only wears a towel around his waist.  

He reminds you of that one video of Slash from the golden age of Guns N Roses, and it stirs something deep inside of you.

But he just chuckles and kisses your forehead gently. “Hey, sweets.” he says softly, in that raspy morning voice.

“Good morning.” You respond. “Sorry for interrupting.”

“You didn’t interrupt anything; you don’t have to apologize.” He advises. “See you downstairs.” You take a cold shower just to get out of your own head before heading downstairs, where you meet your mom, Jake, Sam, and Danny laughing and eating French toast, as your stepdad cooks in the kitchen.

You love his French toast, but a pang of disappointment hits you as you think about your sausage, egg and cheese on a bagel, with hashbrowns. You quickly eat to dissipate any of those needs. But you’ve been talking about that sandwich for months, so it haunts you.

The rest of the day, you spend pretty much doing nothing. You nap, lounge, and catch up with your mom. It’s the perfect day. Just you, your mom, and your boys. And of course, Rosie. Your mom makes pulled pork sliders for lunch, and you order Chinese food for dinner. Real, good Long Island Chinese food.

And really, the day is over before you really want It to be. Sam asks you to join him on walking Rosie. You happily oblige, planning on taking him to get ice cream along the way. He has his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you keep your head leant against his shoulder. Rosie trots in front of you happily.

“I could get used to this.” He says suddenly.

“Huh?” It catches you off guard. What does that mean?

“This. The quiet life. Walking my dog in the suburbs...” He says shyly. You get the sense there’s something on the tip of his tongue and you long for him to say it. “I love touring, but these domestic moments... You can’t beat ‘em.” He decides.

You want to kiss him so badly.

Instead, you just hum, and snuggle closer to him, wondering what the hell you’re doing. And that’s a super valid question.

The night goes the same as the last, except you kiss your mom and stepdad goodnight, not wanting them to have to get up in the morning to say goodbye. You suspect your mom will anyways. And she does. As the boys file out of the house, she’s handing them homecooked meals for the road, and you give her one more hug and kiss goodbye, before heading to the bus yourself. The others are on the bus, but Jake stands there, his hands behind his back. You narrow your eyes to him suspiciously.

“You’re an amazing tour manager, you know that?” He says gently.

“Yes, I do. What are you scheming at?” You ask, not totally trusting him.

He just grins as he reveals a brown bag he’s holding, handing it to you. Your confusion only grows as you take the bag and open it only to smell the best thing you have had in months.

A sausage, egg, and cheese on a bagel. With hashbrowns. From your favorite deli.

You almost scream.

“What?!” You gasp, “How did you—”

“I borrowed your mom’s car this morning and got it for you.”

“You didn’t have to do that...”

“Yeah, I did. I meant what I said. You hold us together, and we couldn’t be more grateful. Plus, you’ve been talking about this sandwich for months and—” You don’t let him finish. You kiss him. It’s full of all this pent-up passion you’ve held in, and Jake just wraps his arms around you, deepening the kiss. He wanted this just as much as you did, you realized. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you both lean into the kiss, fully enjoying the moment. Then, he pulls away, saying your name quietly.

You don’t know what to say. Then, the bus honks twice, scaring the shit out of you.

“C’mon you two! We got things to do, you sorry shits!” Josh yells. You can only laugh before you both climb onto the bus. Now, a new lust has overcome you. The lust for the sandwich you hold in your hands.

The lust for the four boys that surround you doesn’t dissipate either.

But as you head for Boston, your boys in tow, your shift as Greta Van Fleet’s tour manager begins once more, and you resume your position easily.

Until Sam kisses your neck. Then you melt again.