#steve brodt fic

[thefanficmonster]

One hell of a love story

Steve Brodt x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentioned Trespassing, Referenced Paranormal Investifations

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: What modern love story doesn't feature a bit of crime and paranormal activity?

When two posts broke the color monotony of Steve's Instagram everyone - except Dylan, of course - was rather surprised. Not so much the sudden pop of color, but rather the content of the images.

The photos being of a beachside sunset featuring a lovey-dovey couple.

What those pictures don't reveal is the long, long story behind them, behind the relationship they display. They show the progression, but not the roots....and the tiny criminal activity they include.

So, allow me to tell you the story, for the purpose of which I will take you back to five years ago. Back before Haunted Nights was officially up and running.

A solo urban explorer and a solo paranormal investigator.

Steve knew it was a bad idea going to this warehouse when he it first came to his attention. Although it was visually in an abandoned state, it was still privately owned and under surveillance. So, despite being very used to jumping the occasional gate or fence to get into places, this one specific instance was a rather clear case of trespassing waiting to happen.

And it wouldn't have been at all like Steve to keep it waiting.

With a backpack loaded with some cheap ghost hunting equipment over his shoulder, he made his way to the warehouse, a mask covering his nose and mouth. He did a great job keeping himself incognito and below the radar as he watched each and every step he took, leaves and branches cracking beneath his feet on a few inevitable instances.

He was well aware of the risk he was taking. But it was a temptation he couldn't refuse. He'd been hearing ghost stories stemming from this very place ever since he moved to the town. He just had to live one of those said stories himself to believe it.

Little did he know he'd live a whole different genre of a story.

Three floors and an underground storage unit and nothing. Nothing concrete anyway. No activity with the motion detectors, unrelated words coming in through the Ovilus and no physical activity. Whatever energy may have been stuck between those walls wasn't intelligent or just wasn't in the mood to talk. So, to prevent his trip and taken risks to be in vain, Steve resorted to taking some pictures of the place and the surrounding area.

As creepy as it looked, it was still a beautiful location to capture a few shots of with the underlying agenda of maybe possibly catching something in the photos he couldn't spot with his naked eye.

He'd eventually figured out a way to climb up to the roof which was a pretty bad idea for several reasons. For one, that roof didn't look anywhere near safe to withstand the weight of a human, not to mention he wasn't particularly sure on how he'd get down without injury but hell, he decided he'd cross that bridge when he'd get to it.

And last, and potentially most, was the danger of being spotted by the aforementioned surveillance.

To Steve's utter dismay, that last one was the one that got him in the end.

He'd taken a seat on one of the more solid looking panels to look through the footage he'd captured when he heard the unmistakable sound of car tires over leaves and gravel. All color immediately drained from his face.

Scurrying as quietly as he could up to his feet and over to the opening he'd climbed up through, he found himself forgetting all his previous concerns regarding getting down unscathed. His decade long experience going into abandoned places came in real handy when he managed to land on his feet rather steadily from such a high drop.

He was in the middle of debating whether to make a run for it or hide until the coast was clear when he heard hurried footsteps approaching, giving him no time to pick either option before a figure rounded the corner and startled the ever-loving daylights out of him.

Except, it wasn't a cop. Something he immediately picked up on from the attire - which included a face mask much like his own and a pair of fingerless gloves - and backpack.

Steve knows an urban explorer when he sees one and this girl fit all the criteria.

He was quick to press his finger up to his lips, sliding his mask under his chin to be able to mouth "Cops" to her, eliciting a nod in response.

"We need to hide." She whispers, clearly having taken in his appearance and deemed him one of her own instead a threat she should be mindful of along with the cops that just pulled up to the site.

Fleeting was no longer an option when they heard the boom of someone's voice echoing off the walls in a shout, provoking the trespassers to show themselves.

Although his newfound companion was frozen like a deer in headlights, giving him a look of terror, Steve was luckily thinking on his feet.

With barely a couple seconds to spare, he grabbed the girl's hand, hoping to God it wouldn't earn him a slap, and whispered a quick, "Let's go..." as he tilted his head in the direction of a long hallway leading to the underground unit entrance.

He gave her a second to agree, which she thankfully did with a very accentuated nod, before the two took off down the hall, cringing at the loud thumping of their footsteps.

His heart was beating against his ribcage, blood pounding in his ears. He wouldn't be this anxious over the whole ordeal has he still been alone. The weird need to protect his companion was driving him into a faster running speed and more complex ideas.

"There..." He pointed to the gated off stairwell to the lower level, completely out of breath as he carried on to explain: "Hop the gate, I'll make a distraction."

"What if they catch you?" She whispered back, her voice further muffled by the mask she was still wearing.

Clearly, the need to protect was mutual.

Out of instinct, he gave her hand a comforting squeeze, reminding himself to drop it, "They won't." With those reassuring words, they parted ways.

He lingered around almost a second too long to make sure she got over the gate ok before he booked it to a side exit, purposefully making a ton of noise, leaves crunching beneath the soles of his shoes.

Once he was certain it'd be enough to mislead the cop(s?) that had entered the building, he made a beeline for a window he'd taken notice of earlier while he was exploring the underground unit. It was just wide enough for him to squeeze through and hop down. Just in the nick of time, as well, seeing as how there was barely five seconds of time between the sound of his feet hitting the floor and the footsteps of a cop running out to where he'd made the diversion just moments prior.

Standing stiff as a statue, he listened as the cop spoke into his radio, "I scared the fuckers off." He muffled the sigh of relief that escaped his lips with the back of his hand.

He made a point of waiting to hear the car driving off the property before going to seek out the girl. Props to her - although the space wasn't particularly large, he couldn't pin point her location even after scoping out the area for the third time.

"Hey!" He whisper-yelled, still wary of raising his voice, "The coast is clear!"

He watched in amusement, a smile tugging at his lips, as a lid of one of the empty crates was lifted, the girl emerging from within.

That's when all caution was tossed out the window as the two broke out into laughter.

"Come on, let's get you out of there." Steve said, taking the lid from her and setting it on the ground before taking a hold of her hands, helping her stay balanced as she hopped her way out of the crate.

"Damn, was it hard to breathe in there." She chuckled, finally removing her mask, flashing a bright smile at Steve in the process.

Would it be an upmost cliché to say he was enamored right off the bat? Maybe, probably. But it'd definitely not be a lie. She was indeed beautiful, he was aware of it before she even took the mask of. However now, with her full face on display there was no denying it. The tension had been lifted off her shoulders, replaced by her usual lightheartedness.

He had to recalibrate himself for a moment to regain cognitive thought and remember how to function in human interactions. He successfully managed to extend his hand for a handshake, "I'm Steve, by the way."

She captured it with hers immediately, his smile impossibly brightening, "Y/N. Nice to meet you, Steve. And thanks, I owe you big time."

He shook his head, mind racing as to how to navigate the conversation without making an ass of himself, "Nah, you owe me nothing. Us urban explorers have to look out for one another."

Her eyebrows quirked up, "Ah, so my observation was right, we're in the same boat."

"Well, actually..." Steve smiled, slinging the backpack strap off his shoulder, setting it on the ground to unzip it, "I'm more of a paranormal investigator." He explained, showing Y/N the ghost hunting gadgets inside.

The look she gave him was nothing short of amazed, much to his relief, "No way! I love that! I've always been curious but never had the balls to do it. Not on my own at least." That last bit was added as more of an afterthought but it didn't fly under his radar.

"Well, if it means anything to ya, I've been told I'm great company for ghost busting." He's never been a flirt, ever. Not a successful one anyway. Well, not that he's often put himself in situations where quick wit and a few flirty remarks would come in handy. Still, even he's aware that he handled that well. He picked up what she put down.

And if her beaming smile was anything to go by, he did so well. "Aren't I glad to hear that." She too reached inside her backpack, rummaging around for a few seconds before plucking out a pen and handing it to him, "Maybe you could show me the ropes, instruct me on how to use those thingies." She pointed at his ghost hunting equipment and offering him her arm. An action that earned her a puzzled look from him, causing her to giggle sheepishly, "I have nothing to write on, the arm will have to do. That is if you wanna give me your contact info, of course. No pressure."

All hesitation evaporated as soon as it had plagued her mind when, with the goofiest smile, Steve accepted the offered arm and jotted down his phone number.

"Thank you." She smiled, cheeks flushed.

"No, no. You'll thank me only after I've made a ghost hunter out of you." He mused back, cranking his charm up to eleven and hoping for the best.

"I'll take those words to heart."

"And I'm giving them to you as a promise."

With said that and a professional handshake to officialize it, the two made a deal. A deal that would kickstart a series of wild explorations, fun - and some slightly terrifying - memories, stories they'll be retelling their whole lives. And, of course, a company.

A company known as Haunted Nights.

That intel makes the caption under the aforementioned posts much clearer.

"It's my pleasure to introduce you to the cofounder of Haunted Nights, who also happens to be my fiancée @y/n_hn"

To top it all off, we have Dylan's comment right underneath.

@snevets_nalyd: I can't believe she said yes @y/n_hn blink twice if you need help

[thefanficmonster]

Haunted Nights Masterlist

⨀ - Angst

* - Fluff

Not for the faint of heart (Dylan Stevens x Reader) *

One hell of a love story (Steve Brodt x Reader) *

One of the girls (Steve Brodt x Reader) *

More to be added...

[thefanficmonster]

hiii can i rq a dylan stevens x soft! fem reader??? like he’s with steve, sam and colby and his gf wanted to tag along but she gets scared super easily

Hi dear! Thank you so much for this request! I have such a soft spot (and crush) for Steve and Dylan and I was so upset to see no fanfics for them. So I decided to take things into my own hands 😂 Hope you enjoy the fic, darling 💌

Not for the faint of heart

Pairing: Dylan Stevens x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Paranormal Investigations, Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: see request above

Shaky hands cling onto the sleeve of Dylan's hoodie as the group makes their way through the halls of the abandoned and supposedly haunted hospital. The vibe has been eerie the whole night with bangs, cracks and even footsteps echoing off the walls all too frequently for your comfort.

You're not the biggest fan of the paranormal but, on the other hand, you are the biggest fan of your boyfriend who's made one of your biggest fears his job. Therefore, you've been finding yourself in these creepy places all too often as of recent. It doesn't help that Steve, who's decidedly become an older brother to you since you and Dylan started dating, loves messing with you and scaring you.

Tonight is no different.

A tickle to your side causes you to squeal and jump, seeking comfort by nuzzling further into Dylan's side. Looking over your shoulder, you're both relieved and annoyed to see a grinning Steve.

"You jerk!" You lightly smack his shoulder, making him and the guys laugh, "You almost gave a heart attack!"

An arm wraps around your shoulders, halting your rather ineffective offense attempt. "Alright, alright that's enough, you two. Well, mostly you." Dylan gives Steve an annoyed scolding look, "Quit messing with my girlfriend."

Raising his hands in surrender, Steve lightheartedly apologizes but you meet his words with the most distrustful, narrow-eyed glare which, again, elicits a laugh from him.

Dylan can't help but smile widely at the ridiculous scene in front of him. He remembers how nervous you were to meet his best friend, a thousand thoughts and insecurities running through your head, causing you massive anxiety. All such uncertainties were snuffed out the second you actually met Steve. You had only seen pictures of him up until that point and in each he looked so gloomy and serious. Very no-nonsense, very unlike Dylan or yourself. That's where your hesitation had sprouted from.

The second he'd climbed out of his car, a wide smile contradicted the image of him you had conjured in your head. Him and Dylan were the goofiest duo you'd ever seen and you were so easily sucked into their dynamic that now you've become a trio. Though not so much when it comes to the ghost hunting stuff.

The two sometimes manage to convince you to tag along but most of their attempts are ineffective. This time was the case of the former. Though, to be frank, Sam and Colby played a huge role in getting you to agree.

The five of you have now sat down in what the tour guide had informed you was a sort of makeshift ritual room. Not much gave away that fact if one could casually ignore the huge burn mark in the middle of the floor.

You, however, can't.

"It's said that you can still feel heat emanating from that spot right there." Sam explains to the camera, turning it to film the dark stain in question. "We'll have to check on our own though."

The first to step up to the occasion is Colby, crouching down next to the mark, being extra cautious not to step on it. "Sam, doesn't this remind you of something." He asks, looking up at his best friend whose face contorts from confusion into utter horror within a second.

"Oh my God, you're right! The Sallie house!" The blonde exclaims, his jaw hitting the floor, "Not again, dude!"

The name takes a moment to register in your brain but when you connect it to its respective Sam and Colby video - yes, the only reason you agreed to coming is because you're a huge fan - you too go wide-eyed.

"You wanna sit down in the middle of it again?" Dylan's question only worsens your terror. The fact that Sam doesn't say 'no' right away isn't helping either.

"Don't give him ideas!" You whisper-yell at your boyfriend who just sheepishly smiles at you.

"Don't worry, Y/N, I'm not doing that shit again. Well, unless money is involved, that is." He adds the last part as a joke but that still doesn't stop Steve and Dylan from reaching for their wallets. You quickly smack their hands, their laughter provoking your own.

"Yo! Come check this out! It's fucking crazy!" Colby's voice interrupts, causing you all to look over to him hovering his hand over the blackened concrete, "It feels like holding your hand up to an oven door."

Your friends, unlike you, show no sign of hesitation as they approach Colby, each sticking their hand out in search of proof that they're not being messed with. Seeing their faces morph into a look of absolute disbelief and astonishment, you realize that your fear isn't stronger than your need to confirm it for yourself.

Your friends have stepped a few feet away from the spot by now, allowing you to crouch down and see for yourself. And see, you do.

You snatch your hand back as soon as you'd extended it, quickly getting up to your feet. Your face mimics the other four reactions this bizarre phenomenon provoked from the other people in the room.

Suddenly, a gust of warm air tickling the back of your neck reminds you that you are indeed quite terrified. For just a second though, since you're quick to remind yourself of Steve's antics. You turn around to reprimand him for messing with you again just to realize him, along with Dylan, are a good ten feet away from you, helping Sam and Colby unpack their equipment.

Your rationality goes back to fear in an instant. Your blood runs cold and your eyes fill with tears. The only words that escape your lips are choked yet still somehow high-pitched, "Oh my God!"

Four heads snap in your direction. They drop what they're doing, seeing your distressed state. Dylan jogs over to you, his hands resting on your arms, "What's wrong? What happened?"

Instinctively, you reach up to the back of your neck, touching the goosebumps that have formed on your skin, "It felt like someone was breathing down my neck." You explain, moving your hair out of the way to show your boyfriend, "I-I thought it was Steve..."

"Hey!" The accused argues, now having approached you as well, eyes flooded with worry. "I swear it wasn't me."

You quickly shake your head, "I know! I'm fucking shaking." You mutter, biting your lip as you try controlling your racing heartbeat.

"Did you scratch yourself?" Colby asks, shining the camera light on your skin to make sure he's seeing correctly.

"No, why?" Your eyes blow wide open at the question but you try your best to keep your composure.

Colby's just about to reply, telling you about the red spot that's appeared on the back of your neck when Dylan catches his eye. With a sharp shake of the head he delivers his message loud and clear. "It's nothing, my bad. I was casting a shadow and it looked like a bruise." He says instead, the sigh he receives in response from you confirming that telling you would've been a bad idea.

You stay wrapped in Dylan's embrace while the guys set up their equipment for a session. One of his hands is rested on your back while the other has cupped the back of your head, keeping you to his chest as he whispers reassurances in your hair, periodically interrupting himself to kiss the top of your head.

"It's ok, babe. Nothing's gonna hurt you. Not on my watch." He says, making you giggle.

"What, you're gonna fistfight a ghost?" You ask, pulling away to be able to look him in the eyes.

His kind, adorable eyes you love so much. Especially the creases that appear at their corners when he smiles the way he is now, looking down at you.

"For you? Anytime. I'm military personnel, after all." He proclaims, resting his forehead against yours.

You can't help the blush that creeps onto your cheeks which threaten to start hurting from how widely you're smiling - a side effect of having the cutest goofball as a boyfriend.

"Dork." You chuckle, shaking your head before connecting your lips in a quick kiss.

The moment doesn't last long, curtesy of none other than...

"Get a room you two!"

...of course it's Steve.

[thefanficmonster]

My Fandoms

Here's a list of people and fandoms I will be writing for with some minor guildlines for requesting such as what I will and will not write <3

Feel free to make your requests as detailed or as vague as you'd like.

One rule - NO SMUT (there may be exceptions depending on the request)

Each fic will have warnings listed at the top and in the tags for safe browsing and avoiding triggering topics.

Content Creators:

Colby Brock

Sam Golbach

Nate Hardy

Sturniolo Triplets

Steve Brodt (Haunted Nights)

Dylan Stevens (Haunted Nights)

Team Theorist (Tom, Lee, Santi, Amy, Ash etc.)

Markiplier

Brennan Lee Mulligan

Media-based Fandoms:

Community (TV)

The Bear (TV)

Resident Evil (Gameverse)

Supermassive Games (Until Dawn, Man of Medan, Little Hope, House of Ashes, Devil in Me, The Quarry)

Hereditary (2018)

Scream (Movieverse)

Mr. Robot (TV)

Marvel (All media types)

DC (All media types)

Bridgerton (TV)

[thefanficmonster]

One of the girls

Steve Brodt x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Vegas activities basically lol, Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, College AU (sort of), Exes to Lovers, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: A post-graduation trip to Vegas goes a little awry - and I mean a little in every single direction, causing a whirlwind of chaos.

Angie is hanging off of Y/N's arm with the right amount of exhaustion for someone who just got off a 6 AM flight. A flight they had to catch after the third night in a row of partying as a farewell to their college life. It's rather bold of her to assume Y/N is within her capability and strength to hold her up but she's trying her darndest.

Luckily, the extra weight is lifted off as soon as they get through customs and step out of the airport into the humid air. There, the blonde runs straight into the arms of her boyfriend Aiden who seems much more chipper and prepared to withstand the challenge of balancing her weak form.

Y/N is truthfully ecstatic to see her friend in a happy, healthy relationship. So what if it accentuates how single she herself is? Who cares! Angie is a force of nature, a ray of sunshine. It's impossible not to be uplifted and fulfilled by just her presence and energy. Her happiness charges Y/N. It even partially fills the hole of not having a significant other she too can run to.

"You made it!" Aiden cheers, his smile brighter than this fine Vegas morning. Too bright for the girls' liking. Their hangover anyway.

"Barely." Y/N mutters, pulling on hers and Angie's suitcases - the latter she took to be nice and regretted immediately afterwards. "This one barely dragged her ass out of bed."

Y/N's known Aiden since freshman year in college. He's the perfect opposite to Angie which is what makes their relationship so perfectly balanced. Over time, the two created a bond over their Angie-related antics. They have a certain sibling-like understanding of one another they are both so grateful for.

"Doesn't surprise me. Pretty on-brand for her." He replies, earning himself a light smack to the chest from his offended girlfriend, causing him to laugh.

Y/N feels one of the suitcase handles escaping her grasp, causing her brief panic. Turning to see what's extracting it from her grip turns that panic up several notches when she's met with a face she recognizes.

"Let me help you with those."

Of fucking course he's here

Angie didn't warn her Steve would be here, but she assumed. She had no reason to warn her, she was never filled in on the whole-ass history textbook that resides between him and Y/N. But, knowing his close friendship with Aiden, she had an inkling he'd be here. She just hoped she was wrong.

And, like the cruelest fucking joke ever, of course she had to be right when she least wanted to be.

"No need." Saying anything is futile, considering he's already picked up both the suitcases with ease. Still, it would be nothing like her to not say anything.

"I insist." He replies, also completely unnecessary.

It's become their game these past few years - saying things they don't need to nor mean to say. Saying stuff just for the sake of it - it being pissing the other off. Bystanders like Angie and Aiden would view it as flirting. Steve and Y/N see it as vengeance. A rather ineffective kind though.

"I call shotgun!" The blonde suddenly calls, already getting herself situated in the passenger seat when the two turn to look.

Math is not on their side considering it's Aiden's car, so...

"Can I drive?" Y/N throws out in a desperate attempt which earns her nothing more than a laugh.

She's gotta face the music, and she does so by flipping her best friend off through the passenger window before climbing in the backseat, her arms instantly folding over her chest like a toddler. She's practically pressed up against the car door when Steve climbs in after putting their suitcases in the trunk. He takes up all the free space she's giving him, stretching his joints into a satisfying pop. His right arm stretches over the top of the backrests, his fingers just about touching her hair. She's painfully aware of it but remains silent, not even giving into the urge to stab him with a glare.

Thirty minutes later, they're stuck in air-tight traffic.

The radio is cranked up and Aiden and Angie are fairly deep in conversation so the atmosphere in the car is still light despite the inconvenience. Well, in the front, at least.

In the backseat, the tension could be sliced with a knife.

Passing snide remarks started flying about five minutes ago when the frustration of the situation finally got to its boiling point for the two.

"You're the fucking worst."

"Talking to yourself there, sweetheart?"

"Oh yeah. Just questioning some life decisions."

"Might wanna start back in high school with that deep-dive."

"Nah, mainly how I got talked into being stuck on a weekend trip with the biggest nuisance I've ever met."

She hears him chuckle and is just about to turn and go off at him when his fingers finally make the bold choice of tangling in the strands of her hair. It renders her speechless for a moment, paralysed even.

Shockwaves course her being when, out of the corner of her eye, she can see him leaning down toward her. "Oh come on, it's just a weekend. You can handle it." His hand disentangles from her hair to lightly rest under her chin, turning her head so their eyes can meet, "I know you can."

She wants to slap him. And then herself for the brief millisecond when her gaze flickered down to his lips.

"Thank fuck! We're moving again!" Aiden shouts out of the blue, forcing them apart. Steve quickly withdraws his hand and Y/N hurries to compose herself.

It's gonna be a long fucking weekend

The coziness of the Airbnb is almost enough to make up for it. Three bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen and a spacious living room. It's a short drive from the strip so it's mostly isolated from the typical noises of the city.

Peeking in each of the rooms, Y/N finds the bedroom with no bags strewn about and takes up residence. Deciding that the process of unpacking can wait, she dives onto the bed, face buried in the pillows. A short nap till lunch isn't the worst idea she's had today.

If only she could sleep though.

Over the past four years, she's become rather immune to the feelings her interactions with Steve provoke. Sure, they'll bicker and throw elbows but it's all just surface level. Nothing gets under her skin. Or so she claims. But their brief moment back in the car on the way over...she can't deny the effect it had and continues to hold on her.

To say the two have, um, history, puts it mildly.

They met in high school sophomore year and the chemistry was, dare I say, instant. They didn't start dating until late junior year. It pretty soon became clear it was a wrong person, wrong time and wrong place kind of situation. Sure, they were in love in that classic high school sweethearts way and they did bicker like a married couple. But neither of them could see them crossing the bridge into adulthood and college together. Not when they brought out the most ridiculous childish tendencies out of each other.

So breaking up was the first reasonable decision they made in their relationship.

With that in mind, you can probably picture the nasty surprise they were both met with when they were introduced to each other by Aiden and Angie. They were looing at each other and the upcoming four years they'd be forced to spend together with something alike exhausted amusement. They couldn't even be mad. You gotta admit a joke is funny even when it is offensive - and damn was this one very offensive joke from the universe.

They went through with the introduction without batting an eye. Exchanged names, shook hands and silently agreed on holding up this ruse for as long as they could before it would come back to bite them in the ass.

And it sure bit Y/N in the ass when she was forced to witness the quiet and mysterious Steve she knew in high school turn into the biggest manwhore on campus. Every girl she met at college was one of his girls. Even when it wasn't obvious or confirmed, Y/N knew. She started recognizing a type amongst them, a pattern. And she'll admit she's not proud of the bitterness she felt about it all, but she's only human. And so is he. They had the right to change things up for their new college life. That was his choice and although she didn't like it, she had to respect it.

After all, their friends thought they were friends with each other.

Turns out those fights that were the trademark of their relationship extended way past their brief romantic connection. They were disagreements at a fundamental level that still connect them to this day as the earlier incident would confirm.

It's just a couple days, she tells herself, you can push through...

...I know you can.

The sound of his voice in her head startles her, his words ringing in her ears. She's fucking fed up with him. All she hopes for is that after this trip is over she won't ever have to see him again.

God let this weekend end soon

* * * * *

It's been a day and a half. Literally and figuratively.

It's late Sunday night and Y/N's walking the way back to the Airbnb with her heels in hand. She can't remember how she lost nor how she found her purse before leaving but she knows she most definitely lost some of her dignity.

Specifically when, just twenty minutes ago, she almost threw up in her mouth at the sight of Steve tucked away in the corner of the club they were at, making out with a random girl.

It flooded her with rage, jealousy and some confusion to the mix. She witnessed four years of this behavior. She met and was friends with so many of 'his girls' and she was never fazed by it. She gave the matter nothing more than an eye roll, shrugging off his behavior as downright ridiculous and desperate.

But this past day and a half, something has evidently shifted in her and Steve's dynamic.

Given that they were often left to each other's company as a result of Aiden and Angie running off on their own private side quests, they've come to develop a slightly stronger tolerance. for one another. They've had some nice conversations, especially last night's trip down memory lane they had on the porch after their friends passed out drunk.

Neither of them are big drinkers, never were. So she can't even blame what she felt in that moment back there and is still feeling now as she's making her venture on the alcohol. The whole one glass of champagne she had.

Y/N's just about off the strip by this point when she hears a voice call to her.

"Y/N! Wait! Hold on a sec!" She's not at all pleased to see it's Steve.

She doesn't even look over her shoulder at him. She can't, not when she can feel tears prickling her eyes.

Truth is, even if she can't yet admit it to herself, for a second there, she thought something might happen. Second time is the charm, no? Of course not but a fool can hope. And she did have some hope this past thirty hours. She could clearly see how much they've grown since high school. How much better they could be now if they didn't stick to their old argumentative ways.

But alas, back at that damn club, he showed her he clearly doesn't feel the same way.

"Where are you going? You don't even have the keys to the house!" He's now caught up to her, his hand reaching for her arm on instinct. He feels as though he's been burned when she whips around and yanks her arm out of his grasp.

"I'll sit on the porch." She spits venom through her words before turning back around to persist on her way.

Steve doesn't let her though, "Why are you like this? What happened?"

"What's it to you?" She hisses, knowing exactly what him caring is to her. She doesn't let her thoughts travel that way for long.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Y/N, don't pretend you don't know I care about you!" He too is now slowly reaching his limit of patience.

He never wanted this. Any of it. Not the break up, not the ruse, not the whoring around, not this argument. Or any of the ones they've had. Still, he held his head up high and smiled in understanding when she broke up with him. He just nod-and-smiled his way through losing the only girl he'd ever been in love with. And he's been kicking himself for it ever since. For not fighting for her in that moment the way he fought with her throughout their whole relationship.

He's not about to make the same mistake now. Especially not when he's certain he saw a small flame of something reignite between them.

Y/N scoffs, stopping in her tracks to pierce him with a glare, "Yeah, I could sure see and feel all the care you have for me these past four years. And tonight to top it off. You've become very expressive with your feelings. Congrats, Steve, quite the character development."

She's just about to turn around yet again when...

"God damn it, Y/N, I never stopped loving you, ok?!"

...he stops her, freezes her.

He sighs, his shoulders slumping, "That expressive enough for you?"

She can only pick from a set of responses and none of them seem fitting. How does one reply to that? How can she say what she actually wants without fearing it will lead to her getting her all over again. She can't even turn to face him, damn it.

Just then, as some divine intervention, she's rescued from answering by the shrill ring of her phone. She plucks it out of her purse with shaky hands and picks up the call without checking who it's from.

"WE'RE GETTING MARRIED!" It's Angie.

That manages to spin her into facing Steve just so she can give him a look of utter horror. A look he's returning, having heard Angie's extremely loud proclamation from four feet away.

Fuck what deep shit they're in, they have more important matters to tend to.

And tend they do, rushing as fast as possible to the chapel Aiden - who's a slight degree more sober than his girlfriend - pointed them to. A wedding can't commence without the maid of honor and the best man, after all. Or at least they hope that's the case as they dash down the strip. Somewhere along the way their hands linked together but neither of them have time to dwell on it and the symbolism behind it.

Y/N stops briefly to reequip her shoes a block before their destination. Suddenly they're both painfully aware how lacking their attire is for a wedding setting. How lacking this entire situation is of any sort of logic but they both know better than to expect logic from Aiden and Angie in general, let alone when they're inhebriated.

As Y/N stops to readjust her messy hair, she catches Steve's eye. The look he's giving her brings a familiar heat to her face and neck, "What?" She asks, giving him a small shrug.

He chuckles in response, "Nothing. You're just gorgeous."

The heat grows stronger but she waves it off, rolling her eyes at him, "Shut up." With that, she intertwines her fingers with his once more before pulling him down the street to the chapel.

Where they find an interesting sight.

The almost newlyweds are sitting on the stairs outside the chapel. She's nuzzled into him, fast asleep. Aiden is caressing her hair soothingly, rocking her sleeping her form peacefully.

"Did we miss it?" Steve attempts to whisper but they're both so out of breath it sounds like they're barely grasping onto life.

Aiden chuckles lightheartedly, shaking his head, "No, it didn't happen. They said if the bride and groom are too intoxicated to stand on their feet, they're probably too drunk to get married."

"Makes sense." Y/N nods, still panting, resting her hand on her hips and being reminded that her other one is a bit occupied.

Which also brings the almost groom's attention to the linking point, "What is this?" He asks, tilting his head to the side as if to inspect it better.

To his surprise, neither of them makes an attempt to let go. Steve, however, turns to Y/N, "I don't know. What is it, Y/N?"

She shrugs, the sass not at all affected by the lack of airflow to her lungs, "You tell me, Steve."

The cheshire smile he gives her makes her both nervous and excited, "Oh I'll tell you." She hums, nudging him on to continue. The suspense is killing her. Still, she takes the time to take note that the corners of his eyes droop downwards when he smiles, it's a trait she found adorable back then and it still has her swooning today.

Nodding to the grand chapel doors, he finally voices the last bit of his thought, "It may sound crazy but...let's get married. Fuck it. We're both sober. We're both in love."

The deer-in-headlights look she gives him makes him let out a hearty laugh that stirs Angie awake with a groan.

"I never said it back." Her tone is between a realization and accusation both for him and herself. She was too much of a coward to tell him how she felt back in high school and history repeated itself a good ten minutes ago. Another not so proud moment but it's the past now.

Steve gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, "You didn't have to."

* * * * *

Y/N and Steve are sitting on the porch with a bottle of champagne they've been passing between them, watching the dawn creep upon Vegas. The first rays of sunshine are reflecting off the fake cheap ring on her finger. The breaking of the light catches Steve's gaze.

"I'm getting you an actual one as soon as we get back." He says, taking her hand in his to inspect the ring more closely.

She laughs, now looking at the ring too, "Nah, I prefer this one. It's more authentic." She lets herself drift into thought for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh as she does so.

Steve's eyebrows quirk up, "What's that? Some regrets creepin' in?"

His words quickly snap her out of it as she hurries to shake her head in response, "No! Hell no...I'm just thinking..."

"About?" He prods on, still a little nervous that she may be caving under the reservations of what they did a few hours ago.

Y/N taps the ring on her hand, giving him a smirk, "I'm now one of your girls as well. I stomped all over the promise I wouldn't and became one of 'Steve's girls'. And I was fucking sober. I can't believe it." She smiles to herself, thinking back on when she swore on her life to Angie she didn't and would never have a thing for Steve fucking Brodt.

Her best friend is gonna give her so much crap for it and expect a lengthy explanation once she wakes up. She asked no questions when she was bestowed the maid of honor role, but sober Angie is gonna be a different story.

Steve cringes at the wording, familiar with the terminology that spread across campus as a result of his reputation. "No, no way, fuck that. You're not one of the girls. You're the girl. The only girl there's ever been for me."

She smacks his shoulder trying to ignore the flutter of her heart caused by his proclamation, "Quit being corny."

He captures her hand before she can withdraw it, bringing to his lips to press a kiss to her knuckles, "Whatever you say, Mrs. Brodt. Your wish is my command."

Good thing they got the marriage bickering phase out of the way a long while ago. That gives them all the time in the world to be absolute marriage goals.