Latest Posts by yaskna - Page 2

I devoured this story.

It became one of my favorites here.

Everything is so amazingly written and makes you feel so much emotions 😭😭😭

Can't wait to read the rest of this beautiful story that broke my heart with the "we have something beautiful here, but I have to go home soon and I can't continue what we have" plot 😭😭😭

Competing For Christmas: Masterlist

Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Summary:

 After a recent breakup, you decide that you still want to join your town’s Christmas Competition - and are encouraged by friends to ask your brooding coworker to be your partner. 

Unwilling to get too close and let your feelings for the man ruin your new friendship, you attempt to keep your distance. But he’s also keeping his distance - and maybe even throwing the competition to an extent - to protect a secret of his own. 

Series Warnings:

This is pure Hallmark cheese, but just to cover my bases:

- Each individual chapter lists warnings/specific summaries. Smut chapters are marked with *

Part 1: The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year 

Part 2: Oh, Christmas Tree

Part 3: Jingle Bell Rock 

Trivia Questions / Christmas Bingo Sheet / Word Scramble

Part 4: Frosty The Snowman

Cookie Inspiration 1 / Cookie Inspiration 2 / Aprons

Part 5: Holly Jolly Christmas: The Date / The Snowman Event

The snowmen: Frosty / The Snowman / Pigpen’s snowman

Interlude: Under My Tree (Din’s POV)

Part 6: Let It Snow: The Aftermath / The Scavenger Hunt

The scavenger hunt: Clue list / Bonus items

Part 7: Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas 

Epilogue: Here Comes Santa Claus 

Art: 

Din and the cookies (chapter 4) by @valkblue

Din and Grogu portrait by @guiltypleasure-art

*chapter titles and release dates are tentative and may shift slightly. More chapters may be added as I write. We will see what happens!

I can't!!! Bakugou thinking about kids and domestic scenarios when looking for a house is the cutest thing ever 😭😭😭😭

I HAD A DREAM ABT BUYING A HOUSE W BKG !

i feel like he is more of a penthouse guy, preferring to be able to wake up and see the whole city from his kitchen but you guys have been dating for close to a 18 months now and he can’t stop thinking about wanting a life with you. not that he doesn’t already have one. he just longs for a more domestic life.

one where he walk into the doors after work to find you just getting home from picking up your kids from daycare. the mini versions of you and him burst through the door to tackle their daddy in a big hug. asking about his day and how they got to see him on TV during lunch today. you would tell them to go get changed into more comfortable cloths and do some chores before dinner and they’re off. despite coming from katsuki - the worst behaving kid in the planet according to his mother - you’re angels are just that, angels. once the kids are off to their rooms he comes up to you and wraps his big strong arms around you, pulling you in for a long needed kiss and hug. “who’s cooking dinner tonight?” he ask, following you into the kitchen. “i was thinking i would. you did it the last two nights, babe. what are you in the mood for?”.

katsuki doesnt follow the realator around the home like you do. he walks quietly around and imagines what having a family in this house would look like. he would walk in and see you in your office, shelves already installed for both of your awards you’ve gotten. or he’d walk further in and see you on the couch with a glass of wine or in the kitchen arguing with your childern on why we couldn’t have pancakes for dinner. or just maybe he’d go down the first hall and see you cradling your newborn back to sleep.

he goes to the master bedroom where he sees his imaginary version of you already in bed, scolding him for not answering his phone if he’s going to be out late on patrol. or perhaps youre in the bath. the big porcelain bathtub that could definitely hold the two of you and all your body and hair care crap.

he passes you and the realitor talking about the walls or the sunroom or whatever. he wanders to the living room. with big sliding glass doors touching from the floor to the ceiling. he goes outside and knows exactly what you’re going to say when you come out here. “kat, babe where’d you go- OH MY GOODNESS this is the perfect little area for my garden!” you say coming out behind him. yep. he knows you all too well. and he knows this is the perfect place to start a new part of his life with you.

“alright so Mr. Dynamite, like i was telling your partner, this home offers 5,700 square feet-“ hell yeah- 300 sqf bigger than deku’s.

My heaaaaart 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

If They Where Dads

Fluff head cannons! 🤍

Gender neutral reader. Kinda sounds like reader gave births but I kinda figured it’s either adoption or a quirk that can combine dna. Idk.

Aged up of course!!

💥Katsuki Bakugou💥

“She's beautiful”

“Daddy’s gonna buy you the fucking world.”

Big red eyes stared back as tiny hands gripped scared calloused fingers.

He would teach his kids sign language incase he ever does lose his hearing.

Is the type of dad that just carries the baby because fuck the stroller and shit- he’s a walking one that can also rock the little monster to sleep.

Will call the baby ‘Mini SpitFire’ and ‘Adorable Monster’(better than dumbass)

Will sign his daughter(and future kid- aka his baby boy) up for karate

And if his kid doesn’t have a quirk, he’s going to sign them up for a bunch of self-defense classes. He wants to protect them from people like him growing up.

Your phone Lock Screen is a picture of your toddler mid-sprint to the door as Katsuki is crouched with arms wide open. He had just gotten off a patrol, his hair mused and masked pushed up. His gauntlets pushed to the side. His face was dirty and stained. But his smile was huge and little tears are in his eyes from seeing his little mini spitfire come running to him.

“Don’t post that”

“But Kat-“

“No”

Can't let the public know king explosion murder is a big old softy. No, that is only for his family.

🦈Eijiro Kirishima🦈

Dude freaked out when he found out it’s gonna be twins- girls a matter of fact’ As babies, he’d put them in little shark onesies and then put on his own.

Your Lock Screen is a picture of your two beautiful twin girls in these little onesies and your Home Screen is Pro Hero Red Riot in a large Great White Shark onesie holding his two lovely(in shark onesies) twin girls in each of his arms. A big, proud, sharp smile stretched on his face.

He is the kind of dad to strap one of the girls to his chest, the other girl you have strapped to yours. There is totally a picture on the fridge of you two like that.

Would call his girls:

“Little riot, stop pulling your sister's hair!”

“Sharky, you shouldn’t be up there!”

The girls will call you Mama Papa, or Sharky Shark. (So- MommaShark! SharkyShary or ShaSha!) They call Kiri Daddy Shark.

The girls have shark plushies, cat ones, and so many plushies! One of the girls’ favorites, when they were toddlers, was a Red Riot plush. They’d hold it so damn tight whenever Kiri had to leave on a long mission.

They call the Bakuquad the following when they are very young:

Uncle Bak-uh-dough

Unky Serooooo

Aunty Mina

Unk Donkey or Denks (purely because Denki will make a goofy face when they say it)

Also, I think Testu would still pop by and the girl would call him Test.

⚡️Denki⚡️

Would freak the fuck out when he finds out but also be so excited

Will call the baby “Sparky!” And bakugou will say it sounds like you're calling a dog-

⚡️“ but you use to call me stuff like that-“

“Yeah I know”

⚡️“ but you said it sounds like a dog-“

“Yup”

Bakuogou felt a light hit to the back of his head. You walk past him while holding your/Denki’s baby. He just laughs. What? You’d think he’d do or say something to a woman holding a baby. Fuck no.

There’s a picture on your phone of Denki holding your baby, who is fast asleep, with rubber gloves on his hands. He’s being incredibly careful now. Wearing rubber gloves to ensure he never accidentally sparks the baby. He keeps getting excited every time he sees you two. That’s your Home Screen FWI.

The baby does have a Pikachu onesie. And a hat with the ear sticking up. As well as a Pokeball pillow(Mina got them for Christmas)

I feel like Shinso stops over a lot too. Like these guys are really good friends in the future.

“Uncle Shin!”

“Hey there Spark” he would totally gift the baby little cat stuffed animals and cat hairpins.

▪️🔸Sero🔸▪️

Sero would be surprised but stay chill.

Sero would call his baby girl:

“Hermosa (beautiful) you gotta wake up. We have to get ready for school”

Would teach his daughter Spanish(assuming you also know it too)

The girl's room is decorated with plants and cute food tapestries. There would definitely be one of those egg nest swings in the room(the ones above ground and hanging from the wall). He would hold the baby and rock them to sleep in it.

I feel like the baby would have a really cute, soft, cartoon ‘spider’ plush. But it’s not even really a spider- but a blob with a ‘:3’ face and eight legs. Totally has cat ears. Sero found it one day and was like ‘yup, that’s coming home’.

You couldn’t stop laughing when you saw it, you frickin love it.

Sero brings home the cutest but most random stuffed animals and toys. Ones that are just funny and adorable but make no fucking sense.

At an older age, Sero would definitely play with his daughter via his quirk. Your lock Screen is a picture of your daughter hanging upside down, her ‘spider’ plush hanging in her hand.

I love stories where the person who does something like cheating or like what Izuku did at this has everything in life going wrong and doesn't have friends anymore and is absolutely miserable 😈😈😈

Loved Bakugou caring about y/n 😍 the cutest thing 😭

If you do a tag list for this, can I be added to it, please?

2

Breakeven: The Script

Izuku x female reader; Bakugo x female reader

Genre: Drama, Angst, Humor

Warnings: Swearing

Masterlist

a/n: parts of this chapter takes place after the break-up as well as before the end of the last chapter.

I’m still alive but I’m barely breathing

Just prayin’ to a God that I don’t believe in

‘Cause I got time while she got freedom

'Cause when a heart breaks no it don’t break even

Y/n regulated her breathing, clutching tightly to her suitcases as she waited outside the complex. She refused to cry here, least of all in front of him. Tapping her foot impatiently, she hoped, that her ride would get there soon. She didn’t know if Izuku would try to follow her, and she was in no mood for another round. The sound of a beeping car horn, made Y/n’s head turn right, and she let out a watery laugh at the sight of her best friend’s car. Shinsou had the windows rolled down, and the sunroof open, his boyfriend Shoto could be seen sticking out of the sunroof, his older brother Touya next to him. Both fire users had their hands lit a flame, shaped like machete’s. Y/n could see Natsuo and Fuyumi in the backseat, pointy ice lances, hanging out of the windows. The funniest thing Y/n could see, was Endeavour, the retired #1 hero, perched atop the hood of the car, like a bird of vengeance, all fire and anger. As Shinsou pulled the car to a stop, Y/n was met with the familiarly angry face, of the current #2 Hero, Bakugo Katsuki. “Say the word princess, and we light this building up.” He grunted, flickering his palm. Y/n only let out a watery laugh, unclenching her suitcases as she made her way towards him. 

Bakugo opened the door, and met her halfway, pulling her into his chest. In his strong embrace, Y/n finally let herself go, sobs wracking through her body. Touya jumped out of the car, moving to put her bags in the trunk. “Whether you say the word or not, I’m kicking his ass doll.” Enji merely snorted, waving his phone in his son’s face. “I just texted Yagi, and he told Aizawa; they’re both going to wipe the floor with him Monday.” He grinned, looking up at the windows. Flaring his fire out, Endeavor sent the #1 hero a big fuck you, ensuring that the boy would see it. Against Bakugo’s chest, Y/n let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Just get me out of here.” She whispered, moving toward the car. “I’m hungry, and I don’t want to look at this place anymore.” 

Continuar lendo

𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 

part one | part two | part three | part four

summary you're a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen. queue smiley face oatmeal, grossly misused power tools, desserts on the living room floor, a haircut, and an abundance of nerd metaphors [15k]

warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie's birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie ends up being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general loneliness, mentions of a shitty/traumatic pregnancy, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, you wash eddie's hair!!!! this was low-key requested by anon

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie opens the door and finds a little girl on the steps of his house. Little girl feels generous – she's barely more than a baby. In a set of tiny matching pajamas and white socks stained green from the morning grass, she looks up at him with wide, sad eyes. 

"Hey," he says carefully. "Hey, sweetheart." 

"Good morning," she says, though it comes out blurry.

"Good morning," he repeats with a breathless laugh, instantly endeared.

He curls his hand around the railing and squats down. She really is very cute and obviously well looked after, although he realises upon closer inspection that she's been crying. 

"Where's your mommy?" Eddie feels silly as he asks, but what else do you say when you find kids by themselves? 

He's not really expecting her to know the answer. She pouts her small mouth and Eddie freezes up. 

"Mommy.” Her breath quivers. 

"Don't cry," he says very gently.

It doesn't work, obviously, and she starts whimpering in a way that turns Eddie's heart entirely. 

"Let's find mommy, okay? Do you wanna do that? Wanna come and find mommy with me?" 

"Yes," she says, though it quickly draws up into a sharp cry. 

Eddie treks down the stairs and turns back, waiting. The little girl looks down at the steps and her eyebrows furrow as she places one foot after the other, looking like her socks are stuck to a fly trap. 

He holds his hand out. "You got it," he says encouragingly, wiggling his fingers. 

Her relief is palpable. Her brows smooth as she takes his hand, so small he can cover her entire palm with the meat of his thumb. She wobbles down the steps and then hesitates at the damp ground awaiting. 

Eddie drops his gaze to her wet feet.

She looks up at him. Eddie doesn't think she means to but her eyes are pleading,and he's already moving to pick her up when she lifts her arms into the air.

She's heavier than he anticipates. He quickly gets used to the weight, shifting her against his side with his arm under her butt, her damp foot digging into his abdomen. She rests one hand on his shoulder and the other reaches for his hair. He can't help smiling at her as she pets the dark mess, hand clumsy but well-intentioned. 

He walks down past the van and onto dark asphalt, looking up and down the road to see if anyone's around. He figures she has to be a trailer park kid – she can't have walked very far, and she'd been waiting outside. She must've gotten mixed up and thought his trailer was her own, which hopefully means her mom lives close. 

The steps up into his trailer are on the right side. Eddie guesses she's come from the right. It's not a great assumption — he's grasping at straws. 

"What's your name?" he asks. 

She's taken a lock of his hair into her hands. Eddie worries for a second that she's going to try eating it but she only waves it around, looking pleased. 

"I'm Eddie." 

"Dee," she says. 

"Almost. Eh-dee," he spells out, again not actually expecting her to understand what he's saying. He's unsure about kids her age – he's unsure what age she even is. 

She babbles something unintelligible and Eddie hikes her higher up his chest. He strides out of the cool shadow and blinks, shielding his eyes against the yellow-white glare of sunshine. The little girl hides her face in his hair. 

He hasn't walked very far when he sees you behind the trailer three doors down, pinning clothes that look the same size as the girl's pajamas to a clothesline with unhurried hands. The front door is wide open. 

"Your poor mommy," he murmurs as he approaches, "out here doing the laundry by herself and you're halfway to Indianapolis. Musta got turned around, huh?"

You drop a small light blue dress on the floor and cuss just loud enough for Eddie to hear it. You pick it up fast and brush it down, looking over the fabric worriedly. 

Eddie cuts over soft grass, giving the baby's waist a pat and holding her ears away from his mouth as he raises his voice. "Hey, is this your kid?" he asks. 

You flinch toward him and your eyes go wide – wide, your lips parting and your brows jumping down like you might start yelling. 

You're really fucking pretty. 

Eddie’s quick to placate you. "She was sitting on my front steps." 

You still don't look very happy though your suspicion melds to confusion and then a stab of too-late worry. You rush towards them and Eddie turns his body to encourage the girl's gaze to you. His chest warms when she perks up. 

She wriggles in his arms impatiently and Eddie's surprised by how quickly she starts to cry, reaching out for you with insistent grabbing hands as he passes her over.

"It's okay," you say softly, tucking her into your chest. 

The difference in body language is unmissable. Where she'd been restless (though more than pleasant) in Eddie's arms, she completely melts into yours. Her little face presses into your neck and her legs curl up. You pat her butt soothingly. "It's okay, baby. Where have you been?" You look up at him for an answer with concern lining your pretty features. 

"I'm only three down," he says. 

 "Oh… Thank you," you say roughly.

Your gratitude is unnecessary. "That's okay. She's real sweet. I opened the door and the first thing she said was, 'good morning,'" he recalls with an easy smile. 

Joy lightens your entire face. He feels his breath catch in his throat. 

"She did? She said that?" 

"Yeah, she did.” He tries not to sound as confused as he feels.

Your eyes close with the force of your smile. You encourages your toddler’s face back and drop your chin to plant kisses all over her tiny cheeks. Eddie feels something foreign yawning in his chest as she starts to laugh, a tinkling sound that's sugar sweet. 

He scratches his neck and pretends to look over his shoulder, tamping his smile back into a neutral expression. 

"She's having trouble talking," you say, lifting your head as the baby's giggles taper off. "She can talk, she says 'mommy' all the time, but she's s'posed to be saying more 'cos she's almost two and I know she can do it, she's so smart, but-" You cut yourself off and laugh all breathless and sheepish. "Sugar, I'm sorry. I mean- Sorry. Thank you," it almost bursts from you, "for bringing her back. I don't know…" 

"You just moved in, right?" You nod. "The lock on the front door- they're all exactly the same, you just gotta shake it and it unlocks. Even someone small as her can could get it open with enough determination." 

"She can be very determined," you say ruefully, voice hushed. You're still patting her butt, swaying her from side to side. Eddie's in awe at how quickly she's settled, her button features crumpled by a big yawn. "Always gets what she wants."

"I bet she does, she's a total heartbreaker." 

You take a step towards him, your beat up sneakers half a foot from his converse. "She can't help it, she was born this pretty," you say. He loves how braggy you sound. 

"I can see where she gets it." 

As soon as he says it he wishes he could take it back. Not because he doesn't think it's true – you're really something else – but because he doesn't want to creep you out. 

Luckily, he's rewarded for his bravery by another beaming smile, your words warm as you tell him, "They said she was the prettiest baby they'd seen in twenty years up in Eskenazi general." 

The name pricks his ears. "You're from Indianapolis?" 

"Kind of." You tilt your head to the side. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name." 

"Eddie." He could applaud himself on how normal he sounds and how not normal he feels. 

"Eddie, I'm Y/N. D'you wanna come in for coffee? Or I can make you some breakfast? To say thank you for taking care of my Junie."

"Junie," he repeats, surprised. 

You shift from foot to foot. "She's a June baby. And she's getting kind of heavy these days, so. Breakfast?" 

He follows you up the steps and through the back door. 

"You can leave it open," you say over your shoulder. 

He catches an eyeful of your bathroom, an organised chaos that smells intoxicating, the rich scent of jasmine heavy in the humidity chased by something softer. Talcum powder, he thinks. 

You murmur something to Junie too quiet to hear and she rouses from her dozing, grizzling weakly. 

"It's breakfast time! Is that what you tried to come and find me for, some breakfast? So impatient," you scold her lightly, smiling all the while as you set her into a bright blue high chair with a big yellow duck with orange flippers printed on the cushioning.

You squeeze one of her feet and frown. "Your socks are wet. Did you go swimming in the grass?" 

Eddie leans against the doorway leading into the kitchen. He doesn't have any experience with kids. You make it look easy, pulling off her stained socks while she wiggles her protest and tickling the soles of her feet with the tip of your finger until she's happy again. 

You turn back to him, socks clutched in your hand. "I'm gonna make oatmeal. Is that something you…" 

"I'm an oatmeal fiend." 

You grin and do a lap to close the front door. "Sit down. I'll get you some coffee? I got milk and brown sugar." 

He throws himself into the seat next to the high chair with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Brown sugar? Sweetness, you're spoiling me." 

Junie laughs. Eddie pulls himself up into a proper sitting position and gawps at her exaggeratedly. "What's funny, little lady?" 

She giggles some more. Eddie leans his elbow on the tray of the high chair and pretends to glare at her. "I can already tell you're trouble." 

"She likes you." 

"Yeah?" he asks, looking at you over his shoulder. 

You're half obscured by cabinets as you poke your head out, an open sack of rolled oats in one hand and a small pan in the other. You nod happily and move to the sink. He can hear the sound of the faucet and the burner clicking on, the saucepan sliding over the stovetop. 

"I like you," he says to Junie quietly, rapping his knuckles on the tray. "But don't tell anyone, okay? I have a reputation." 

"So, uh, how long have you lived here?" you call, almost smothered by the rushing sound of oats tipping into hot water. 

Junie makes a funny face like she might sneeze. Eddie watches. "Since I was a kid." He's smiling as he talks, amazed when Junie starts to smile back. He nods his head gently up and down to encourage her. "Too long. Not that it's not nice here."

Junie looks like she agrees. 

"For sure, but..  not always where you picture yourself," you say tentatively. 

He hums his agreement. "Whatever though, right? A roof is a roof. Even when the roof is made of cardboard and corrugated metal. I mean, all things considered, this is a well kept vessel." 

He's not just trying to make you feel better – you really are making a go of it. There's not nearly as much clutter or decoration as his own home but it's twice as clean and every surface brags a clear affection – you fucking love your daughter. There's a framed photo of her as she looks now at the mantle without a single fingerprint on the glass, baby photos in smaller frames hang on the wall. 

Smallest of all, a photo of the two of you together. Your hands on her shoulders, your lips and nose pressed to her forehead. You're not looking at the camera, but Junie is, and she's exuberant. 

Toys, though few, are arranged neatly under the TV. It's really the type of clean that takes hours. He wonders how you'd ever make time for it. 

"You got a job?"  

"Yeah, I'm waitressing at Benny's?" You say it like a question. "The burger place?"

"Yeah, I know the one. Randolph Lane, near the laundromat. Does Junie go with you?" he asks. He cooes Junie's name and feels very happy when the girl in question smiles some more, reaching out with her hands. Eddie offers up the same palm she'd taken before and lets her squeeze his fingers in a surprisingly tight grip. "She looks like a working girl." 

"Benny said I could bring her with me until she starts daycare next week, so she really is a working girl." You giggle madly and Junie loves the sound, her chubby cheeks rounding as she smiles. 

"I knew it," Eddie whispers conspiringly. "You have the face for it." 

Junie laughs like something is truly hysterical and Eddie can't believe it, squeezing the small girl's smaller fingers in his and waving their joined hands together.

"She really likes you," you say, closer now. 

You set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. He pulls his hand from Junie's and moves the hot mug away from the high chair though she'd never be able to reach it as you set your own mug and a pint of milk half-full across from him, the brown sugar you'd promised in a pink and orange ceramic dish with a lid that clinks as he pulls it off. 

You double back into the kitchen. This time you bring a baby bottle full of what he guesses is diluted juice and two teaspoons, handing him one with a quiet, "For you." 

"Why thank you," he drawls. 

He spoons a generous hill of crumbly brown sugar into his cup and swirls. 

"The oatmeal needs to soften. Is there anything you want with it? I've got lots of options," you tell him, pouring milk into your own mug. When you're done you and Eddie swap.

He thinks maybe you sound a little nervous and wonders if he's the first neighbour you've met. Or maybe you're still freaked out about Junie. 

He raises his eyebrows but doesn't look at you as he splashes milk into the dark recesses of his coffee, watching as it bursts back up to the surface and turns the drink a more acceptable brown. "What do you usually have?" 

"Junie gets peanut butter and blueberries." 

He tilts his head toward his shoulder just slightly and plants his elbows on the table, the rim of his mug held in tenuous fingertips. 

"What do you get?" he asks, thinking that if the baby gets such a sweet treat you must get something equally impressive. He thinks of raspberries and chia seeds, flakey sea salt and bitter dark chocolate. 

You blink. "What?" 

"What do you have, on your oatmeal?" He punctuates his question with a sip. 

"Salt. Sometimes raisins." 

You make a nice cup of coffee. Eddie holds it in both hands and leans into the table. "That's it?" 

You shrug. Junie starts to whimper about something Eddie doesn't understand. You reach out to hold her hand. "She loves blueberries. Don't you, Junie?"

"Blue," Junie says. 

You're smiling as you take another small spoonful of brown sugar. You lick the tip of your finger and dip it into the well of the spoon until a few grains are sticking to you and hold it up to Junie's lips. "She loves sugar, too, but toddlers aren't s'posed to have it. Or so they say." You smile as she sucks the sugar off before wiping your spit wet finger in your pants. 

Daughter appeased for a moment, you hold your chin in your palm and turn your attention to him. "Where do you work?" 

He imagines this is how a plant feels when the sun comes out. "The Hideout, for now. I'm a very essential and irreplaceable bus boy." He nods very seriously.

"What's after?" 

"Music." 

Your lips curl into an interested smile. "Music? You a singer?" 

"I have a great set of windpipes," he says agreeably, grinning. "But I'm a guitarist." 

"And you're in a band?" 

"I- I was. Yeah, we were good, too, but everybody graduated and our drummer skipped town. I just sub rhythm guitar for whoever wants me to." 

"At the Hideout?" 

"At the Hideout." He decides on his next words carefully. You could come see me play. Weak. You're welcome to come see it for yourself. Too strong? You're welcome to come by one night. Bring Junie. 

He's not asking you on a date; he's a new acquaintance extending an invitation for you to get out and see a new place. That's all it is. 

He opens his mouth to try and suddenly there's a loud clattering. Eddie flinches, blinks, finds that Junie has thrown her bottle of juice across the room. 

Eddie waits for you to maybe tell her off like some of the mom's he's seen at Bradley's. A glare, a hissing remark to be good. 

You reach over and your shirt rides up your back. Eddie averts his gaze guiltily.

You put the bottle back on the tray, giving him an apologetic grimace. "Sorry, Junie has recently discovered that every time she drops something I'll pick it up for her." 

"Smart Junie." 

The bottle falls to the floor again. "She's a genius." You don’t sound entirely pleased, picking the bottle up again and holding it just out of Junie's reach. You shake it up and down. "S'juice. You like juice," you try to reason with her.

Junie reaches for it. You purse your lips. "Be good," you say softly. 

Junie takes the bottle and shakes it. 

It's a small victory and still softens every feature. Your eyes squint, your bottom lip juts out a touch, your nostrils flare with a pleased inhale. 

"Thanks, junebug."

"Tanks," Junie says. 

"Thanks," you repeat, bubbly baby talk. "Thanks. Say thanks, Junie." 

Eddie watches you encourage her over his coffee. It's quiet, peaceful here in a way nowhere else in his life has ever been besides quiet Sunday mornings with his Uncle. There's only the sound of the gas stovetop burning and your happy, patient voice. 

Junie says "Tanks," a couple more times. You don't give up. When she finally says something that sounds almost like a "Thanks," you whip your gaze to his. 

"Did you hear that?" you ask. Your pride is evident. 

He puts down his half empty mug. "She said it." 

"She said it," you repeat, your shoulders moving in the tiniest happy dance he's ever seen. You stand up and take her face into delicate hands. "She's my smarty pants. Aren't you, baby?" 

You dot a kiss over her head and head back into the kitchenette. 

"Tanks," Junie says animatedly, running on an affection high. She accidentally knocks her bottle over.

"Thanks, Junie," Eddie corrects, righting it. 

He finds it easier to baby talk than he imagined. Being nice to little kids – that's easy. Especially as he gets older. When they hit the pre-teen mark is when he starts to steer clear, but even then he can't help doting on them sometimes. Like his club – idiots, annoying idiots, but his annoying idiots. He doesn't hold back with them. He doesn't feel like he's holding back now, either, it's just different. 

Baby's want love. Care and affection. 

And to pull Eddie's hair, apparently. 

Junie's reaching over the gap with a fierce look on her face. Eddie pulls his chair closer and decides to let her try it out. She hadn't given him any reason to worry before, and she doesn't now as she takes a chunk of his hair into her hand. She pulls very gently, likely more that her fingers have gotten caught in his messy curls than any maliciousness. 

"What's your fascination with my hair?" he asks her. 

In her own home Junie's very noisy. When he'd found her outside she hadn't done much besides whimper weakly. Now, she's a riot of gurgling and humming. 

"Are you a singer, Junie?" he asks. 

"She sings all the time! She loves the Muppet Babies on TV, but I- uh, I haven't been able to actually get cable, yet. But when I get paid next week…" You come back into view with two bowls in hand. "She'll be in her oils." 

Eddie says thanks as you put a bowl down in front of him. There's a smiley face there made up of berries with banana slices for eyes. He feels something crawling up his throat and has no idea what it is, and then something completely different when he sees your own bowl, a stretch of plain oatmeal with no delicious adornment. 

You leave and quickly return with a smaller bowl, a baby spoon and a jar of peanut butter.

"Do you want some?" you ask, opening the jar to push the baby spoon inside. "I would've just put it in anyway but then I worried you were allergic." 

You hand it off to Junie and she licks at it happily. 

"Sure, I'll have some. Where's your smiley face?" he asks. 

Your eyes widen slightly. Eddie's not academically inclined but he's never been stupid, and he sees it for what it is, something he's seen in himself and in every other poor kid who didn't bring lunch to school.

"I don't really like bananas," you say. 

Whether you're lying or not isn't something he needs to know.

"Well, you're gonna have to share the blueberries with me, I can't eat this much fruit. I got a hearty diet of chips and microwave oven dinners to uphold." 

Eddie shovels half of the smile into your bowl. You clutch your spoon in your hand like you want to protest, but no way is he gonna watch you miss out on nice things in your own home. 

You smile and don't say anything for a while, rubbing the edge of the bowl with your spoon, your thoughts somewhere else. 

Junie's food sits billowing steam in the middle of the table, which annoys the poor girl endlessly. She wiggles and murmurs and sucks at her empty spoon with a growing line between her brows. 

Eddie eats and feels much better when you finally start to eat your own meal, leaning back in his chair heavily to loll his head towards Junie. "Your mom makes amazing oatmeal. You're really missing out." 

You choke on a laugh and grab her spoon to load up with another small heap of peanut butter. "That is so cruel to lord over her,” you say. “I can't give it to her yet! It's scorching. She has a fragile mouth." 

"I'm sure." 

He picks one of his blueberries out of the bowl and offers it to Junie, who takes it slowly despite her previously rabid hunger 

More oatmeal eating. Eddie ends up giving the rest of his fruit to Junie, your generous dollops of peanut butter more than enough to enjoy the oatmeal. He might argue it doesn't need any adornment at all.

You stir peanut butter into Junie's bowl and wrestle the baby spoon out of her tight grip.

It's a process to watch. You scoop up oatmeal, blow on it until you're sure it's cool, and push it into Junie's mouth efficiently. There's a method to it, the way you lift the handle of the spoon so oatmeal doesn't drip straight back out of her mouth. When it does you scrape the lip gently against her chin to catch it before it ruins her shirt. 

It starts to rain. Hard not to notice, a light drizzle opens and sprays down against the windows and for a moment there's no reaction. Then, gasping, you drop Junie's bowl back onto the table in stress. 

"Shit, the laundry. Are you okay to watch her please? Sorry. I'll be five seconds," you say, already heading for the back door. 

"Sure.” He sounds about as startled as he feels. 

The back door shushes open and your feet dip down the steps. Junie is not very pleased with her breakfast getting put on pause, her face growing as unpleasant as the weather outside.

"Mommy," she says, unhappy and loud.

Eddie doesn't think about it as he picks up her bowl. It's more a pulse of feeling than a thought. Feed her and she won't cry. 

He blows on a spoonful of oatmeal with likely too much vigour. 

Junie's still complaining as he holds it in front of her face. If she's surprised to be fed by somebody who isn't her mom she doesn't show it, her sticky face growing suddenly slack as she realises her oatmeal is back in play. Her lips part.

He feeds her oatmeal, does a very bad job, and tries to gather what's escaped with the spoon as Junie waves her hands around and pokes at spilled food on the white tray in front of her. By the time you come back damp and breathless with the cold chasing your heels he's successfully managed to feed her what was left of her breakfast. He's embarrassed to be caught but tries not to show it. 

"You okay?" he asks, looking you up and down amicably.

"S'only a little rain." You push the laundry basket onto the sofa and smile sheepishly. "You didn't have to do that." 

"And have the precious little lady starve?" 

"Starve!" you repeat, a feigned incredulousness to your tone. 

"She was giving me the puppy dog's," he says, shrugging as he takes the spoon out of Junie's wet fingers. 

She whines for a second at his robbery but seems to realise she's full, picking her juice back up to shake some more. 

You exhale through an open-mouthed smile.

"Thank you. She's gonna love you now, she loves anyone who gives her food. She's a real cadge at the diner. Never seen so much free cherry pie in my life," you remark, turning to what looks like your diaper station. You wade through a mess of things he doesn't recognise and pull out a packet of baby wipes. 

"And her mom? Is her affection so easily garnered?" 

"Takes more than a cherry pie to win me over," you joke, sitting down in your chair in front of the high chair with a soft sigh. You pull out one of the wipes and take Junie's wrists into your hand, wiping her fingers clean methodically. "I need at least a squirt of whipped cream on top before I consider any fondness." 

He chuckles and you laugh too. It's short-lived, your lips pursed as you wipe Junie's face clean. She hates every second of it, writhing in her chair like she's being tortured as you clean a mess of brown and blue from her round chin. 

"Sorry, I'm sorry. Done, done," you say, holding your hands up in surrender. 

She pouts. 

"Don't be like that," you scold her mildly. "Look how lovely and clean you are now! Eddie can see how pretty you look again." 

You slide your hands under her armpits and pull her out of the highchair, groaning. 

"Oh, there you go. Where's Mr. Bear gone, baby? You can play sticky bricks with him so I can get ready for work." 

Work. Work. Where Eddie was going. Where Eddie is very likely supposed to be. He checks the time and his eyes flare, standing up abruptly. You turn  toward him with Junie anchored on your hip, both wearing matching expressions of curiosity.

"Sh-“ Don’t swear around babies. “I'm sorry, I got somewhere to be that I totally spaced on."

You blink. "That's okay." 

"It was sick to meet you," he says. 

You blink some more and walk to the front door, pulling it open as an understanding smile curls your lips. "Super 'sick,'" you say, bemused. "Thank you so much for bringing Junie back. Really, I mean, if anything ever happened to her." You don't finish because it's obvious, your bright tone underlain with a burning fear.

He walks sideways out of the door and down one step, knowing he's super fucking late but not caring too much as he says, "Listen, I can bring you a deadbolt." 

"You could?" 

"Sure thing. Make sure this little lady," and he says it chidingly, directing his gaze at Junie who goes all shy and smiley from the attention, "doesn't go on anymore morning adventures. Especially without her shoes." 

"That would be… that would be awesome, Eddie. Thank you." 

He waves his hand and descends the last of the steps. "I'll come around tomorrow?" 

It's a Saturday today. He's not surprised that you're both working the weekend, but he is surprised that you're working Sunday too when you say, "Would after five be okay?" 

"That's more than okay. Bye, trouble," he says to Junie, bringing a hand up to shield his hair from the drizzling rain. 

You look lovely on the stoop, fresh-faced and in your lounge clothes. You tug Junie up your chest and take her hand into yours. "Say 'bye', Junie," you tell her, waving her hand. "Bye! Bye-bye, Eddie." 

"Bye Junie!" he calls, waving at the little girl with great fervour.

"Bye!" Junie calls back. 

You both grin. 

-

You're super tired from work and exhausted from an upset daughter. Even now Junie fusses. She hasn't been getting her naps because you can't set her down anywhere that isn't the wooden high chair in Benny's restaurant, which is months of a routine disrupted. 

You're not mad at her – the opposite, you feel awful to mess her up like this, awful that she's so upset. Trying your very best to calm her down, you're swaying her from side to side in the middle of your messy living room with your hand patting a steady rhythm into the narrow breadth of her back. 

"I know, baby, I know. I'm sorry. You'll get your nap tomorrow, I promise," you say, trying for softness and missing, desperation eating at your tone.

You try not to have a heart attack at the thought of her first day at the new daycare. I can't think about it, you tell yourself, moving your thoughts onto the Sunday checklist. 

Junie's been fed. Unfortunately, she's the kind of wound up where the only solution you can think of is to get her in bed. If you can get her down soon she'll sleep until maybe 4AM. Not ideal; you'd prefer she slept later tonight and woke up at a healthier 6AM with you. When she does wake, no matter the time, you'll have her eat something substantial for breakfast and take a much needed bath. 

Laundry, bills, cleaning, it all runs through your head. Junie's hair, her snacks for daycare, her clothes. Does she have clean socks for the week? Does she have a vest top for tomorrow? 

Her crying grows loud and you can't think of anything except how overwhelmed you feel. 

"It's okay, baby, just go to sleep." You shush her softly.

Somebody knocks the door. 

You and Junie are similarly nonplussed. Her crying ceases for a second and her head turns in tandem with yours. 

"Oh. Oh, you know who that is, huh?" you ask her, making for the door while her cries are still on pause. "That's our new friend Eddie. You remember Eddie?" 

You pull open the door. There he is on the porch with a bag and a plastic case, wearing a shirt with short sleeves. You realise for the first time that he has tattoos. 

"Hi," you say. 

"Hi. Hi, Junie," he adds, looking at her tear-stained face. "Have I come at a bad time?" 

"No, you're good. You're great, thank you for doing this." You lean back against the door and Eddie skirts past you. That close, you can smell the heavy sage and sandalwood of his cologne and see the beauty mark under his ear, dark hair tucked behind the shell. 

He stops in the middle of the room and puts down the plastic case. "I'm gonna try to do it. Try being the essential word, and I make absolutely no promises." He makes a small cross with his hands leading out and the bag falls from the crook of his elbow to his wrist. 

It sounds like more than a deadbolt. Eddie sees your gaze and jumps into theatrics that hook Junie's attention straight away, ruffling through the bag. He pulls out a VHS tape and then a second, one old and one newer. 

"For your consideration." He presents them grandly against his check, his eyes flitting from your daughter to the tapes in wait of her reaction. 

Junie has no clue what a VHS is. She thinks the TV is magic. 

You swoop in and gasp loudly for Junie's sake, having identified his proffered tapes immediately. 

"You know what that is?" you ask her, pointing at the slipcover. "Muppet Babies! There's Kermit and Fozzy and Rowlf and Gonzo." You touch your finger to each puppet in turn as you reel off their names. 

Junie looks up at you like maybe she remembers, so you start to sing the theme tune for her. "Muppet Babies, they make their dreams come true. Muppet Babies, they'll do the same for you!"

The song jogs her memory. She starts her nonsense singing in a valiant but juvenile effort to recreate the music, dancing in your arms. 

You sing it again for her as you lower her to the floor. She doesn't whine to be picked back up, a great sign that her mood has turned, instead walking to the TV, a small silver combi with a bubble screen. She raises her arms up high and starts hitting the TV stand with her palms flat. 

Eddie looks to you as if he's checking that it's alright before crossing the small space and turning on the TV, your relieved smile more than enough encouragement. He's careful not to step on Junie's feet, surprised when she walks into his leg. She grabs onto his jeans and looks up at him with wide eyes. 

Eddie visibly softens. 

It's kind of crazy to see him, this metalhead dude covered in dark tattoos and wearing safety pinned jeans looking down at a toddler with nothing but patience in his eyes.

He drops his hand very lightly to her tiny back and pushes in the tape. "Hi, sweetheart."

"Hi," Junie says. 

She doesn't let him touch her for very long, falling to her knees to pull out the bin of stickle bricks hiding underneath as Eddie fast forwards through the adverts and then turns up the volume until the Muppet Babies theme is echoing against the wood panelled walls.. 

Junie's eyes dart up the screen, two bricks held in her hands and a great smile on her face. 

"Where did you find that?" you ask, in awe. 

He steps over her and comes back to your side, crossing his arms over his stomach with a smug smile. "Not telling. Ruins the magic. Got The Bugs Bunny Show for when she gets bored of Miss Piggy." 

You smooth down your rumpled black work skirt and smile shyly. "I can pay you back… Next week." 

He looks lost for words for a split-second. It clears fast, and he says, "Tell you a secret. I have a friend down at good old Family Video that let me have 'em for nothing." 

"Yeah?" you ask, unsure. You worry he's lying to make you feel better. 

"Uh-huh. Friends in high places," he brags sarcastically. 

You turn to watch Junie smile for the first time in hours and have to scrub your face to hide how shattered you feel. It's been a really long week. Your relief is a physical thing, a hand on your shoulder. You feel yourself deflate. 

"You okay?" Eddie asks. 

You press the backs of your hands to your cheeks. "Thank you. Really. You saved me." 

"Yeah?" he asks, dialling up the drama. He lifts his chin high. "Would you say, oh, I don't know, that I'm your hero?" 

It's his clear joking tone that saves him. If you'd detected even a smidge of genuine expectancy from him you likely would've shoved him out the door. 

"Mm-hm. My hero," you croon, both of you grinning. 

He turns back to the grocery bag and pulls out a bottle of juice. "I was gonna bring coke but I didn't want Junie to feel left out." 

You move to the cabinets and can't believe how nice he is. You get a little warning stab, that feeling of if it's too good to be true… and shake it off. Maybe it'll turn out that way and you're not gonna do anything stupid to chance it, but he seems like a normal guy. A good neighbour who wants to be your friend.

You're in dire need of one of those. 

"What was wrong with the little lady?" 

You pour juice into a glass for him, less into a glass for you, and a half-inch into a clean baby bottle. "I can't get her down for a nap when she's with me at work and it really caught up to her today. She-" You yawn so wide it hurts your cheeks, covering your face with your arm. 

Eddie looks up from where he's kneeling in front of the open plastic case he'd brought with him. "Caught up to you too, I think." 

"A little." You smile ruefully. 

He holds something red and black in the air. "This'll wake you up," he says. 

It's a small hand drill. He presses down on the trigger twice in quick succession and Junie lies down on the floor to look backwards at him. 

“Woah,” you say.

Junie rolls onto her knees and then stands. She's in that stage of walking where she can mostly do it but has a great tendency to trip over anything that might be in her way, and she stumbles as she approaches. Eddie moves the drill away from her and opens the case wide to show her his array of drill bits. 

"How'd you like them, Junie?" he asks. "Pretty cool, huh?" 

"What do they all do?" you ask. 

"I don't have the foggiest," he says, grinning up at you. "And I really wanted to be cool and pretend that I did. I was going to, but you asked me that and now we're sunk." 

Junie pokes at all the silver metal and turns away, bored, to return to her cartoons. 

"I'm sorry," you say, not sorry at all. 

"You should be." He shakes his hair out. "Can't say woodshop was something I ever paid much attention to in school." 

You squat down beside him where he's counting the screws out for the deadbolt he'd acquired for you, your small cup of juice in hand. The deadbolt isn't new but it's clean of rust and that's all you care about. It doesn't need to do anything besides work. 

"It can't be too hard though, right?" you ask quietly. There isn't any need to talk loudly this close to him and your head is starting to hurt from a long day. 

"I hope not." He passes you the drill. "Hold onto that?" 

He stands and you follow, the deadbolt frame in hand. He turns to your front door and holds it up to the frame, far from the door knob. "Where'd you want this thing?" 

"Wherever you think is best," you say quickly. 

"Got a pencil?" 

You don't. You're ashamed to offer him a cyan blue crayon from Junie's arts and crafts. He takes it with a gleeful smile and uses it to draw a line under the deadbolt's two parts to make sure they fit together once they've been drilled in. 

Junie starts fussing and you squint at her, trying to guess what's wrong. You leave the drill on the small table by the door.

"Junie, you want some dinner?" you ask, walking up behind her where she's stood watching TV. You rub her shoulder and lean over her, your face upside down in front of the TV. "I don't think you're hungry. Let's change that diaper." 

She certainly doesn't want you to. You turn to Eddie where he's making clumsy crosses on the door in place of the screws, his brows furrowed. 

"I'm gonna go get her some jammies," you say, and then wince. "Pajamas." 

"Jammies," he repeats. You hate how happy he looks. 

A hot flush washes over you. "She's the only one I talk to." 

Again, that awful softening of his features. He's got the biggest, brownest eyes you've ever seen. "Why don't you get changed, too? I'm gonna start drilling." He waves the drill and you don't like how loosely he holds it. 

"Please don't ruin the door." 

A wolfish smile. "No promises." 

You leave all the doors open. Eddie's nice but you're not stupid – if he plans on kidnapping her or something evil this is the perfect time. Though, you suppose, he could’ve abducted her when he found her outside.

You shed your uniform and pull on a pair of loose fitting pants. You can't find a clean t-shirt, probably because you own a grand total of three, and you get distracted when the drill starts whirring and Junie screams. 

You know in your heart that it's just a baby scream rather than a sign that she's in pain and you still can't let it lie, rushing down the hall. You can see her, see that she's uninjured, only looking at the drill.

She's excited. 

"You like that?" Eddie asks her. "Is that funny?" 

Junie claps her hands together and reaches for the drill. 

Eddie frowns. "Sorry, you can't have it. I gotta finish the door for your mommy. Why don't you build me something with your bricks, yeah? Something big." 

Junie reaches up for the drill again. 

"I can't, Junie, it's too dangerous. Don't want you to get all mutilated." You wrinkle your nose at what he's saying. He turns the drill towards his chest and touches the drill bit to his collar. "Look, see this? It's not for little hands." 

Junie steps over the case of things on the ground and leans against Eddie's legs, insistent. 

Your mouth drops open as he starts the drill and puts on some fake anguished screams. "Ah! Oh my god, it's eating me!" 

Junie starts laughing at his fake screaming. Her eyes widen, her hands clinging to a rip in his jeans. 

"Think that's funny, do you? Heartless girl. Where's your juice gone, hmm?" He holds the drill behind his back and points to her bottle on the side of the couch where you'd left it. "You want that?" 

He goes over her head to grab it and encourage it into her hands. "Yummy," he says, his eyes moving to where you stand in the door past the kitchen, eyebrows jumping up. "Everything okay?" 

"Screaming," you say, awkward in your breathlessness. 

Eddie's eyes stay resolutely on your face. "She's okay. The drill is exciting. You're shirtless, you know." 

You spin on your heel and back into your room. Your heart a jack hammer, you sieve through clothes until a rumpled t-shirt that smells of deodorant but not sweat appears and shrug into it. 

Junie has a much better selection of clothes. You pick out some matching pajamas for her and a thick pair of socks and tuck them under your arm with her changing matt.

When you return this time, Eddie's drilling a third and fourth hole into the wall next to the door and Junie's watching with the teat of her bottle in her mouth, chewing but not drinking. You lay her mat down on the floor and grab her with a big sigh. 

"Alright, Junie, let's get you all fresh for bed." 

You change her diaper and she doesn't misbehave too much, Eddie's general presence a distraction. Soon she's sitting in your lap, dressed in new pajamas and smelling of talcum powder and baby creams, her wool socks soft as you rub your thumbs into the instep of her feet. 

You sit on the floor watching Eddie drill the screws into the deadbolt frame. Junie slouches against you, her head digging into your chest and her tired arms struggling to hold up her bottle. You hold it up for her, watching Eddie's hands and his arms, how they move. Muscle and ligament tense under the skin, tattoos warping, his bats propelled into flight. 

"I like your tattoos," you say. 

Eddie stops drilling to look over his shoulder. "What?" 

"I- I like your tattoos." 

He lights up. His back straightens out and he turns back to the lock, giving the last screw a final good twist. The door makes a groaning protest and then it's quiet. Just Muppet Babies, Junie's soft suckling and the compliment you'd given adrift in the room. 

"They're pretty sweet," he allows. You can hear how pleased he is though he won't look at you. 

"They're cool. Have you had them long?" 

Eddie starts to tell you all about them, fiddling with something you can't see on the door. 

Junie decides that she doesn't want to be sitting anymore and turns in your arms, hands coveting your neck. You lift her into your chest and rub circles in her back, the weight of her emptying bottle on your shoulder. Soon, her small arms go lax. There's a rush of air as her lips open from the teat and the bottle tumbles to the rug with a dull thud. 

He pulls open the door.  Cool air rushes in. He closes it, slides the deadlock into place, and then pulls hard to make sure it won’t come free. 

It’s solid. 

He laughs triumphantly and Junie stirs. You pat her back and make some quiet shushing sounds and Eddie turns around, a slip of his teeth on show as he grimaces. 

"Sorry," he whispers. 

You shake your head. "You're amazing. Thank you." 

If his cheeks weren't pink they are now. He leans into it, hiding one cheek behind his hair. "Stop," he says, exaggerated. 

"I'll make it good, I swear," you whisper, covering Junie's ear with your hand. "I'll make you the best dinner ever. I'm the best at Kraft's mac and cheese, or-" You flush hot, realising that mac and cheese might not be the treat you think it is to him. "Or we can order in," you say, doing the maths in your head. You can't afford it, but maybe Benny-

"Kraft's mac and cheese? You're spoiling me." 

You beam. 

Eddie cleans up the small mess he's made. You're afraid to move quite yet in case Junie's not really sleeping, though she's a dead weight in your arms, and you watch Eddie walk through the room with both caution and ease. 

"Oh, you don't have to do that,” you say. 

He folds the baby blanket in his hands and puts it back on the armrest of the couch before moving on to the stickle bricks, not looking at you as he says, "Just earning my wage, doll." 

You can't watch him clean your home. You wrap a tight arm around Junie and rise to your feet. Eddie sees your approach and his movements grow faster, rushing to clean up the mess before you can stop him. You don't know who starts first but you're both laughing as you grab his wrist. 

"Stop!" you whisper, mock-furious. "Stop cleaning." 

"Sh, you'll wake the baby." 

You shake your head in bemusement. "I'm gonna go set her down. Then mac and cheese." 

"Take your time. Lots of things for me to clean up out here," he says with a mock sincerity. 

You drift down the hall and turn back to sneak a glance at him. He's pulled Muppet Babies out of the TV and is rewinding it around his thumb, a small smile on his lips as he hums the theme tune to himself. 

With Junie finally in bed for the night you take a quick peek at yourself in the mirror on your nightstand and cringe. You look tired. You give yourself a big smile and feel better; a smile makes even your most exhausted features look pretty. 

You slap on some chapstick. You know, to counter your dry lips. It shines. 

Slipping out of the bedroom, you close the door as quietly as you can manage. 

Eddie's standing at the end of the hallway. You expect to feel scared. Instead, you’re perplexed.

"Hi?" you whisper.

"Can I use the bathroom?" 

You laugh. "Yeah. Course you can." 

You have to pass each other in the hallway. His hip bumps your hip, a short rub of fabric. 

You're still thinking about it when he finds you behind the stove, half asleep with your face in your hand. It's the kind of tired where your eyes keep slipping shut, not aching so much as blurry with a heavy head. 

"You okay?" he asks quietly, sitting down at your cramped table. 

You hum. "Hm. Just tired." You give him a guilty smile as you tip the bigger portion into his bowl.  "Sorry. Mac and cheese with bacon bits for you, my hero." 

"Thanks, sweetheart." 

The fatigue ebbs a little. 

Eddie’s easy to talk to. He makes you laugh. When you say goodnight, he looks back over his shoulder twice.

-

It's a funny coincidence that Eddie sees you Friday night. He never grocery shops on a Friday but he knowd when his uncle gets home in the morning there won’t be anything for him to eat after his shift. He takes a sharp turn towards the TV dinners and there you are at the bottom of the aisle with Junie in the seat of the cart. You're talking to her like you'd talk to anyone, though you didn't sound so saccharine sweet over mac and cheese. Close, but not quite. 

"What do you want?" you're asking. "Ham and pineapple or mini pepperoni?" 

Junie holds her hands out for both boxes. You let her take them and the two of you puzzle over the pizzas, heads bent together. 

"Pepperoni, right?" you ask her, quietly enough that he almost misses it. 

"Peroni," Junie agrees. You let her keep the box and put the other one back in the freezer. 

"Pepperoni," you correct, absentminded. 

"Peroni." 

"Pepper-roni." You sound it out slow, looking at a scrap of paper in your hand. 

"Pepper."

"You'll get there. Do you think we need shampoo this week?" You start jovial, but quickly lose your sprightliness. "Maybe I can put some water in the bottle and just… shake it up. No, we definitely need it." 

Eddie watches you look over the cart. He knows exactly what you're thinking, What can I put back?

"Hey!" he calls, walking a little faster to try and hide how he'd been listening. 

You turn on the spot and smile as soon as you see him. Junie, to his delight, is even more excited. 

"Hi," she says, hands thudding along the cart's handlebar. 

"Hi, Junie. How's my favourite neighbour?" 

She babbles. 

"I'm psyched to hear it. How about you, sweetheart?" he asks, parking his cart next to yours. 

You're looking very tired. Still in your work uniform with a hoodie thrown over the top and your smart flats swapped for a pair of converse with the laces undone. You pinch your cheeks up into a big smile. He guesses that with a baby you've gotten very used to hiding how you feel.

You don't hesitate to lay it down thickly. "I'm really good." 

"Yeah? How's Junie liking daycare?" 

You cover your hands with your sleeves. "She loves it. Loves napping again. She-" You frown. "She doesn't like the mornings. Dropping her off. But after." You nod with a tentative smile "Yeah, it's nice to pick her up." 

"Uh-huh. How's work?" 

"What?" 

"How's work for you? How's Benny's?" he prods. 

"You're asking me about work?" 

"Why wouldn't I be?" 

"Nobody ever asks about work," you say. 

You can't look at him as soon as you've said it, your eyes moving back to the grocery list in hand. It's an old envelope, and it crinkles under your squeezing fingers. 

"Sorry," you mutter. 

Eddie bites back a frown. "Well, I'm asking." 

He holds out his hand for the list and you give it without thinking. He adores your handwriting the second he sees it, scanning the list for anything in this aisle.

"Hey, tell me about it," he prompts at your silence, pushing his cart. It takes you a millisecond to catch up, but when you do you're near frenetic. 

"Well, I messed up like, five different orders today. And when I had Junie it was like they didn't care 'cos she's cute, but now she's not there they get pretty angry pretty quickly." 

"She's like a magic item." 

"Right," you say, sounding like you have no idea what he's talking about. "She was my lucky charm. 'N now when I mess up I gotta practically beg some of those guys to leave Benny alone. He's too nice to me already."

"Are they all terrible?"

"No, the regulars, guys in there everyday, they're all great. They're too generous. Benny's too generous. I know he's fluffing up my tip jar. I hate that. I don't want him-" You flinch. It's strange. Eddie takes a small step closer to you and waits for you to continue, but you've lost all steam. "Sorry, I don't mean to weigh you down with all of this." 

"I asked. And I get it." 

"I don't want him to feel sorry for me." 

"Hey," he says, reaching out for a box of cereal on your list. He presents it to Junie and shakes it around, "who said anything about all that?" 

"No, I know, I just-" 

Junie smiles her approval and he chucks the cereal in your cart with a rattle of metal. "I'm not trying to make you feel worse, I swear. I get it. I- You said he's a nice guy, right? So maybe he doesn't feel sorry for you at all. Maybe he just likes you. He owns that place. I don't think it hurts him to put an extra twenty in your tips." 

Junie reaches up. You turn to her and lean down until your face is a few inches from hers. "I wish I didn't need it," you say quietly. 

"I know." 

Junie puts her hand on your cheek. 

You sniff, not crying or anything like that, only breathing. "Thanks, Junie," you murmur. 

"Mommy," she says. She sounds a little concerned. 

"Let's go get something yummy, baby." You stroke her face lightly. "I'm thinking canned peaches. Or pears, um. Fruit cocktail. And condensed milk," you add, sounding unsure.

"I got a can or two of that laying around," Eddie says, because he knows that shit is expensive. "Wayne hates sweet stuff." 

"I couldn't-" 

"You let me come over for one of those mini pizzas and I'll bring the dessert," he says, like he knows you'll say yes. He doesn't know. Eddie Munson’s an expert in pushing his luck. 

Junie starts clapping her hands together. 

"I think she's decided," you say. 

-

You're terrible with a can opener. You whine to yourself as you struggle to get open the second can. Eddie had insisted on peaches and pears and fruit cocktail, because he wanted to try them all apparently. And then some dramatic speech about little kids getting spoiled.

You can hear him now in the living room with Junie. They're laughing in a way that you're worried about, that guilty, hushed giggling that raises your hackles. 

"Shush," Eddie says, faux-angry, "your mom's gonna hear." 

"Shush," she repeats with much more enthusiasm. 

"You shush! Look, don't do that, Junie, you're gonna get it tangled in your hair," he says. 

You carry the can and can opener with you into the living room. Something about tangled hair gets your heart racing. 

"Eddie, please don't let her get stickies in her hair," you say quickly. 

"They're called stickles," he says, dropping back onto his hands, head over his shoulder to give you a bright-eyed smile. 

"I know what they're called. Junie can't say stickles." 

"Stickles," she says. 

"She couldn't when I got them," you amend. 

He's up quicker than you can really take in, hands extended. "Let me do it," he says. 

He works the can out of your fingers. It's more contact than you've had with somebody who wasn't your daughter in a very long time and it leaves you shell-shocked. Eyes on his nice hands, bigger than yours with thicker fingers and his riot of rings. He presses the can to his chest and hooks the opener, peeking between it and you intermittently. 

"Go see what we made for you," he encourages. "I'll do it." 

His arm brushes yours as he moves to the kitchen and that's worse than his fingers. You rub where he'd touched and drop down on your knees next to Junie, looking over the stickle bricks with a smile. It's a heart, poorly construed and of tens of colours. It falls apart when she tries to pick it up so you help her remake it, cooing. 

"Thanks, baby. This is for me, huh? You're so sweet." Your voice drops to a murmur. "My sweet girl. Wanna cuddle?" 

You open your arms out and she doesn't seem very interested. "Please?" you ask, vying for her waist. 

She lets you pull her into your lap. When you actually start to hug her she does her lovely melting thing that she always does, a floppy fish in your arms but with tiny squeezing hands. You giggle at her antics and lift her up so her face falls into your neck. 

"Thanks for my heart, Junebug." She snuggles her head into your neck, hair squished to your skin. "I love you," you whisper, rubbing her back. 

"The works," Eddie announces grandly as he appears, two bowls in hand.

"Eddie, that's too much for her." 

"She's a growing girl." 

"A growing girl with a tiny tummy," you say turning her around in your arms. "Tell you what, you have that one," you point to the biggest one, "and we'll share that one." 

"How about you share the big one?" he asks, though it hardly sounds like a question. He sits down and places the bowl in her lap. 

You grab the spoon before she can and stir up some of the fruits. "Wow, look at this! You gonna say thanks? Thanks Eddie.”

She doesn’t say thanks — her mouth is too far open to form words. You make quick work of shovelling fruit and condensed milk inside, chilled enough that she shivers in your arms. 

“Yeah, that’s good,” you say agreeably.

She gets enthusiastic enough to take the spoon and you let her, even when she totally mauls the food, eating so loudly that Muppet Babies becomes inaudible. 

Eddie eats slowly. You can feel his gaze. “You’re not gonna have any?” he asks. 

You’d felt it coming. Your answer is clumsy anyways. “No, I will. I just… I always have her leftovers,” you say, sheepish. 

He stands up. 

You’re gonna ask why when Junie tips fruit down your legs, cold on the naked skin of your ankle. You dab at your pajamas with a small sigh. There’s no point in getting upset. She’s a messy eater but they all are at this age. Honestly, it’s nice to see her attempting to use a spoon rather than her hands. 

“You’re doing a good job,” you say. You’re not totally sure who you’re talking to. 

“Tada!” Eddie cheers, wielding a third bowl of fruit. “Swap with me?”

“What?”

“You think Junie’ll come sit in my lap?” he asks. He doesn’t wait, really. He holds out the bowl and you take it on impulse as he sits down heavily. 

He takes her into his lap with a cheerful groan. “Oh, c’mere, sweetheart. There’s enough milk on your chin to bake a cake.” He wipes it with his hand. He doesn’t so much as wince at the mess. 

You stare. He eases the spoon out of her grip and scrapes up a half-spoonful of what looks like pear and feeds it to her with the same kind of deftness of hand that’d taken you months to learn. 

He can feel your gaze, evidently, because he looks up. There, you catch it, that slither of insecurity he hides well. 

You pick up your bowl and start eating. It’s the nicest thing you’ve eaten in almost two years. You’d die for Junie. You’d do worse. But to eat, to know she’s fed — gorged — to know you can sit here and eat this whole bowl of fruit all to yourself and you won’t have to put it down, that’s heaven. It’s better, because you never let yourself have anything nice if you can help it. 

The fruit turns to a lump in your throat and you swallow it, sniffling. Your lashes grow heavy with unshed tears and you keep your gaze resolutely on your dessert. When was the last time you had something this nice all to yourself? When was the last time somebody ever went out of their way to be this nice?

It’s a small gesture and a huge one. A tear dribbles down your cheek. You lick it away and keep on eating. 

-

Eddie starts to come around every Friday. It’s a good deal; you make dinner and he makes dessert. After that first time he makes it his mission to give you heaping bowls too much to eat most of the time. Soon, he’s coming a few days a week, not always long, sometimes until the late hours, though you tell him desserts are a Friday only occasion. He complies grudgingly. 

You make your first friend in years, and it’s so sweet you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

Or what possesses you to offer to cut his hair. 

Eddie's sitting on the couch with Junie, his big thigh to her little one and a picture book spread between them whilst you clean the kitchen. He's not reading to her – she's trying to read to him. She can't read, of course, but she can remember some of the words in relation to the pictures. She pokes at the blue cat and says blue. She pokes at the blue dog and says blue. She also points at the red cat and says blue. It's a learning curve. 

Eddie gives corrections and encouragements just as you would. You smile at him from behind your cup of water. 

"He's red, sweetheart," he murmurs, arm around her shoulder to hold the book's edges. "Red cat." 

"Red cat," she repeats with enough accuracy to make you choke on your water. 

Eddie gasps almost as loud as you do. "Right! Red cat! You're so smart, junebug, I can't believe it," he praises, squeezing her shoulder. His gaze meets yours and he smiles. 

You send him back your sweetest smile. If he wasn't always so nice to you you'd like him anyway because of how he treats Junie, like she's the fucking sun. 

She gets so excited when other people are happy that she starts laughing, standing up and trampling all over his legs to give him a hug. She's given him half hugs, she's fallen asleep by his side and loves to pet his hair, but this is a proper, tactile hug. Her arms wind around his neck with purpose and as soon as his surprise has faded he brings his arms up to hug her in turn, laughing delightedly. 

"You're such a smarty-pants," he praises, rubbing her back with a boyish brashness. 

She squeals as he squeezes her, his fingers digging into her ribs. Never cruel, only tickling her. She eats up every second of it and buries her face in his neck, laughing her wound up baby laugh that always brings a smile to your face. 

"Ooh, she's so smart. First blue, then red. Next you'll be saying indigo, and vermillion, and-" 

He cuts off when Junie gets one of her nails caught in his hair. She jolts and whines like it hurts and he goes rigid. You move forward to play mediator but he's already pulling her away gently and making small shushing sounds. "Chill out," he chides lightly, "I got it. Here." He pulls the hair from under her fingernail and rubs the pad of his thumb over her hand. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he apologises, pouting at her scowl. He envelops her hand in his and waves it around. "Forgive me?" 

She doesn't learn her lesson, pushing her hands back into his hair, probably less kind than what’s ideal. Eddie doesn't flinch. 

You sit on the armrest gingerly. "Can I ask you something?"

Eddie looks over Junie’s head. "What's that?" 

"Have you always had long hair?" 

He doesn't balk. "No, of course not. I fu-" He clears his throat. "My mom was the best, and I fit in just like everybody else growing up. When I ended up with Wayne I was-" He smiles. It's the kind of rueful grimace that says, You didn't ask for this.

You smile encouragingly.

He drops his gaze to Junie, worming his arms around her in a loose hug as she continues to play with his hair. "I was mad about everything, and I remember him asking when I wanted to get my hair trimmed and I said ‘never’. Took a few years for it to grow past the awkward stage," he bares his teeth and nods toward his shoulder, as if allowing his past misdemeanour. "But now I'd say it looks pretty sweet." 

"I love your hair," you say. 

Eddie beams. "You don't think it's too long?" 

Emboldened by his reaction, you slip off of the armrest to sit next to him, turning in until your knees touch. Junie, loyal as she is, climbs straight into your lap with a babble. 

You pat her back with one hand and raise the other cautiously for permission. Eddie flares his eyes wide, as if to say, You want to? Go on. 

You take a lock of his hair between your fingers like Junie had moments before. "I like it like this." 

"But?" 

You look at the ends, an inch of limpness where the rest curls. "You haven't had it cut since you were a kid?" 

"Maybe not that long, but it's been a while. I do it myself sometimes." He gestures to his bangs. He speaks quietly. A rarity though not unknown for him to be so hushed. 

You tuck the curl you'd been examining behind his ear carefully. 

"Do you think my hair looks good?" you ask. 

"Sh- Sorry, of course I do. I swear I was gonna-"

You shake your head, laughing. "Not like that. What I mean is, I cut my own hair. I cut Junie's, too, and I could do yours if you wanted me to." 

He goes quiet. 

"Only if you wanted. I know it's a lot of trust, so-" 

"Would you do it now?" 

You hold Junie's head away from yours to prevent a loving headbut. "Right now?" 

"I'm in dire need." 

He throws his big brown puppy dog eyes your way and you couldn't say no if you wanted to. 

You explain how he needs to get it wet first and how the shower head in the bathroom doesn't detach. "It's, like, built into the wall." 

"I could go home, come back?" he suggests. 

"I can do it over the sink?" 

-

Eddie can't remember the last time somebody washed his hair for him. He knows there must've been a time, some place in his life where his mom or dad had done it for him. He thinks that, if he'd asked, Wayne would've tried it once or twice growing up, but now Eddie's most definitely at the age where having his hair washed is a foreign luxury. 

And it does feel luxurious.

It shouldn't; the sink basin is very small as they tend to be in the trailer kitchenettes – small sink, small stove, small small small – and Eddie has to crane his neck. Already the space between his shoulder blades aches from being bent over, and he can't breathe well, smothered by steam. 

But your hands. One shields his eyes from run off, a gesture unnecessary and far from lost on him, while the other massages shampoo into his scalp. He'd been surprised when you started because you hadn't mentioned washing his hair, and he'd said, "You don't have to do that." 

You'd hummed. "Well, it's kind of a waste not to." 

That was that. 

Your nails scratch lightly against his scalp and if his eyes weren't already closed they would've fluttered shut. He nibbles his lip and tries very hard not to show outwardly how nice it feels. Your left upper arm rubs against his back as you scrub at his roots, your right soaking wet beside his face, covering his eyes uselessly. He doesn't mention it. All this touching, he doesn't want it to end.

Your proximity honest-to-God sets him on fire. Your body pressed to his is a flame over his ribs. 

"Maybe we shouldn't cut it at all," you say, stroking wet bangs away from his forehead. "It's soooo long." 

"Can’t do it?" he teases.

"Keep your eyes closed, okay? I'm gonna rinse." 

It's a comforting process. You dip your cup into the water. It fills with a wet glug, the rim shushing against the basin's bottom. You hold it over his head and pour carefully, heat caressing his scalp as the soap is washed away. 

It's over too soon. You grab the towel you'd procured and tuck it around his shoulders, wringing all the excess water from his curls back into the sink. You encourage his head up wordlessly and he stands there, arms useless against the countertops edge, water sloughing down his face as you press the ends flat between your hands. 

You lift his head and push his hair back with your hands, raking your fingers through it and laughing as soon as his face appears. "Eddie! I'm sorry, you're totally drowning." 

He chuckles. They fade away as you pinch the corner of the towel and start to dab his face dry, dragging the rough material over his cheeks with an expression he can't read on your pretty features. Almost pensive, not quite. 

"There," you say under your breath. "Saved you." 

"My hero." 

You smile at him softly before spinning on your heel. "I gotta find the hairbrush. And the good scissors." You look into the living room quickly and then turn to the hall leading to your bedroom. 

Eddie looks into the living room too. Junie's not upto much, only watching TV, unusually subdued. He doesn't disturb her despite the itch to go over and play.

One of the muppets starts laughing about something and she laughs too. 

"What are you smiling about?" you whisper from behind him. 

"Nothing," he says quickly.

You raise your eyebrows. "She has a nice laugh, right? Doesn't matter how bad I feel, she laughs and everything's okay for a little while." 

He feels a fond stab in his chest. "Her laugh's like yours." 

"I guess we do sound the same." 

You do, but it's not really what he'd meant. 

The metal sound of scissors snapping. You wield them at him faux-threateningly and shepherd him into a chair you've dragged to the middle of the kitchen. 

Eddie fights goosebumps as you pull a brush through his hair, loses when you take a lock at the front between two fingers and stop about an inch and a half from the end. 

"I'm gonna do that much, okay?" 

You're a quiet hairdresser. Eddie doesn't care, he can talk for Indiana, but there's something so sweetly simple about the quietude, just your hands in his hair, the snipping of your scissors and Junie's occasional excited chattering. You start to hum a song Eddie doesn't recognise about halfway through. It's melancholy. He doubts you realise what you're doing. 

You draw silent as you round to the front. Eddie watches your hands work for what feels like hours. You have really pretty hands, not perfect, burnt fingertips and neat little nails. They smell like honey hand soap.

You pull two locks from the front together to make sure they're the same length. His curls will hide any discrepancy, he knows from experience, but he doesn't want to tell you that. Selfishly, he wants that extra time with you this close. 

You work your way between his legs to comb his half-dried bangs. Eddie looks up at you with wide eyes.

"You want me to trim these, too?" you ask quietly. 

"If you please." 

You huff a laugh through your nose and start to trim his bangs carefully. He closes his eyes, and maybe it's the fact that he can't see you that gives him the confidence to reach out for your hip, a touch that can't be defined as amicable. He curls his fingers into the soft material of your shirt and feels the heat of your skin underneath. 

You draw closer, as close as you can be. 

"What made you decide on bangs?" you ask. 

"Zits, mostly." 

He can feel your laugh under his hand. 

"I used to… I used to powder my face," you confide, a murmur, "like, an inch thick to try and hide everything. Being pregnant makes you so-" You pause to snip some hair, comb it away. It tickles his face. "Well, it makes you spotty. Or it made me spotty. It actually made me really sick." 

"That's must've sucked," he says earnestly. 

"It- Yeah. I guess it did. I don't know." 

He hadn't meant to bring up something unhappy, but he's hungry to know. "Were you on your own?" 

"Mostly." 

"What was the worst part?" 

"Being scared all the time."

He'd been expecting morning sickness or aching feet. "You were scared?" 

"I honestly thought I was gonna die, Eddie." 

He opens his eyes and leans back in his chair, hand flexing over your hip, as he tries to tamp down his surprise. 

"It was," you mess with his bangs with the tip of your ring finger, "hard. I felt sick all the time, and when I didn't I would make myself sick worrying about her. What if I eat something or I catch something and it hurts her? What if- what if it all works out perfectly and then I can't look after her?" 

"Did it work out perfect?" 

You rub your lips together. "Uh, I guess so. It took a long time, and it hurt," you sound especially unhappy with that part. 

He strokes up your waist, wanting to soothe the small crease between your eyebrows. "By yourself?" 

"Yeah, by myself." 

"I'm sorry." 

You tuck his hair behind his ear and grin at him. "Now what are you sorry for?" Your hand lingers near his cheek. Slowly, you turn it, pressing the knuckle of your index finger into the skin under his eye and rubbing a small line. He worries he’s in love with you right then and there. "Not like you're the one who knocked me up." 

You drop your hand and Eddie really doesn't want you to go anywhere, his grip kind but steadfast, bringing the other arm behind your back in a loose hug. "Who was it?" 

"Just some guy. Nobody. Nobody worth thinking about." 

"How old were you?" he asks. 

"Why are you asking me all this stuff?"

"I wanna know about you." 

You bring your hands to the towel around his neck and pull on it mildly. "I was sixteen. Seventeen when I had her." 

He drags his fingertips up and down the small of your back lightly, almost like he's playing guitar. "I'm sorry you were all by yourself. That young. When I was sixteen I was still watching The Bugs Bunny Show."

You giggle and your hands move up to the side of his neck. He can hardly breathe, afraid to dispel whatever enchantment it is that he's under. 

"Could be worse, huh? I'm nineteen and I still watch Muppet Babies," you joke. 

"Why wouldn't you? It's the pinnacle of modern television." 

"Yeah?" 

Your beaming smile hits him straight in the chest. He thinks about how beautiful you look and can't stop, hiding his face in your stomach to stop from saying something stupid, laughing loud. You laugh in tandem, hugging the back of his head until your giggles peter out. 

A small hand on his arm. You both turn at the same time and find a very unhappy Junie.

"What?" you ask her. Then, teasing, "Are you jealous?" 

You lean down to pick her up. Eddie's gutted to lose your touch and then quickly exuberant when Junie ducks out of your arms to grab at his legs. 

"Oh my god, yes," he says, holding out his hands. 

Junie tries to take them and he slips them under his arm, pulling her onto his thigh with a big sigh. The sigh is half the fun, a theatrical reluctance when really he's always happy to have her climbing on him. 

As soon as she's in his lap she's pleased, turning her head so she can watch the TV across the room. 

You roll your eyes at his smug smile. "Shut up. She just wants what other people have." 

"And you had me?" 

"Shut up, Munson, seriously," you say. You don't sound half as mad as you're trying to. 

Eddie takes a drying curl between his fingers and pokes at the side of Junie's face. "Whatever you want, sweetheart," he says, grinning when your daughter starts to squirm on his thigh. 

He grins at her and tickles her until she's curling in with her chin dropped to her chest, smiling despite herself. 

His fondness colours every word as he croons, "I got you." 

Junie sounds about as outraged as a toddler can be when he tickles her nose and then drags the tip of the freshly trimmed curl under her eye. He draws a big circle around one of her cheeks until it's kissing her chin. She dissolves into giggles while squirming to get away from him and so he stops, only for her to blink and tug at his wrist. 

He tickles her until she's screaming. 

You pause on your knees where you'd been sweeping up his trimmed hair to look up at her and he's struck with guilt. "Y/N, you don't have to do that. I'll do it." 

"No, you're okay." 

Eddie finds his gaze drawn to your thighs, spread out as they are in your kneeling position, and then stolen by Junie as she almost topples off of his lap. 

"I think…" he begins quietly, speaking to Junie though it's just as much for you, "that your mom deserves something nice for my haircut. What do you think?" 

"I don't think that," you say. 

"Wasn't asking you," he says seriously. Back in baby mode he continues,  "What's mommy like, huh? What's her favourite thing in the whole world, besides you?" 

"Sleep," you say. 

"Well, I can't help you there." 

"You help me there all the time. Junie sleeps like a log every Friday." 

"Food coma," he says knowledgeably. 

"You really don't have to get me anything, Eddie. My services were administered charitably." 

He pushes his hands behind Junie's back and pulls her to his chest before standing. When he has her secure in one arm he pulls the chair back to your small table and tucks it in.

"Get up," he says to you. "I'll do it, alright? Swap with me." 

You ignore him until he starts kicking you in the leg. "You're ridiculous!"

"You're ridiculous. Seriously, get up. You're not a serf." He returns your glare. "I'm a big boy, I can clean up after myself." 

"It's my house." 

"If you don't let me-" 

"Christ! Okay." You drop the dustpan and brush sullenly, wiping your hands together as you stand before taking Junie out of his arms. "I'll make dinner." 

"No you won't! I'm gonna order takeout," he says factually, already on his knees and sweeping. 

"No you're not." 

"I am. Me and June already talked about it. She's craving Marino's pizza." 

"I'm not gonna let you use the phone." 

"I'll walk to my place and order the pizza to here." 

"Eddie-" 

"Why are you being a hardass?" he asks. 

"Fine! God, clean up your gross hair and order your stupid pizza. You're making me crazy," you say, collapsing onto the sofa with a little oomf, Junie's weight hitting you hard in the chest. She moves into a sitting position and pulls your shirt up, hands moving across the space under your chest. 

Eddie throws himself into cleaning all the mess you'd made for him, the hair and the towel and the sopping wet draining board. He washes the dirty baby bowl on the side and fills up one of Junie's bottles with water, then a glass for you. He hasn't seen either of you drinking a thing since he's been here, likely his fault for distracting you. 

He's about to call for pizza when he peers past the cabinets and sees you dozing on the couch. He decides pizza can wait until tomorrow; it's later than he realised. 

Junie's halfway across the room with Mr. Bear playing make believe. She talks and talks and talks, gibberish to him but what's likely an unending, complicated storyline, no doubt. 

Eddie approaches with the bottle already outstretched. "Junie," he says, and when she doesn't answer, "Junebug. Junie. Junie." Each iteration of her name softer and sweeter than the first, hoping to entice her in. 

He holds the bottle in front of her face.

She finally looks up with a pout. 

"For you," he says, offering the water. 

She seems mildly interested as she takes it, turning back to her teddy and talking around the teat like it's not there. 

You're struggling to keep your eyes open. Eddie gives the room a quick once over before kneeling down in front of you, tugging your shirt down to cover your exposed tummy as he says, "I should head home." 

You blink at him and turn onto your side, cheek squishing into the couch cushion. 

"Okay? Why don't you and Junebug head to bed?" he asks, using a tone not far from what he'd use with your daughter. 

"You know, her full name's Juniper," you whisper. 

He didn't know. "Really? I love that." 

You wrinkle your nose, sounding very tired as you continue, "But someone told me it sounded like a name for a cat. So I've called her Junie ever since."

"It doesn't sound like a cat's name," he placates. "It's beautiful. You chose well." 

"Yeah?" 

Eddie smiles at you fondly, eyes tracing down your nose to your lips, shiny with balm. He tilts his head to the side to mimic yours. He could kiss you. 

"Sounds like the name of an elf. Juniper Lightfoot, or… Goldwind. She could even be a mage. Juniper the Brave." 

"Juniper the Loveliest," you say, and then grin. "Juniper the Hungriest." 

"Juniper the All Great and Hungriest," Eddie says decidedly. 

"Would you make her a hero, in your game?" you ask. 

"Of course I would. She wouldn't even need to divide, she'd just conquer." 

"What about me?" 

"What, would you be a hero?" 

You nod. He doesn't know why, but he thinks his answer is going to hold a lot of weight with you. 

"You would be," he starts quietly, words painted slowly as he raises a hand to rest on your wrist, pinky finger spread over the hill of your thumb, "a fighter. With insight and survival." 

"I don't know what that means," you say. 

He leans in. "It means yes, you'd be a hero. You'd save kingdoms. Slay dragons." He squeezes your wrist. 

"I think I better leave all that stuff for Junie. I'll just cheer you guys on from the sidelines." 

"You're her mom, she can't do it without you. And even if she could I bet she wouldn't want to. Where's all the fun in guts and glory if you can't share it?" he asks, rubbing his thumb over your skin.

Your eyes shut. Eddie doesn't know if it's from fatigue or a want to end this conversation. He feels marginally embarrassed for descending into nerd metaphor with you, but he thinks it's the kind of thing you needed to hear. He thinks if Junie could understand how often her mom prioritises her and misses out for her she'd want to fix that. Eddie doesn't know you half as well as she does and it breaks his heart sometimes to watch you insist on a smaller portion, to watch you put things back at the grocery store because she wants a box of milk duds, even to watch you wear yourself out ironing baby clothes in the only pair of pajamas you own. 

"Make sure you lock the deadbolt behind me," he says carefully. You hum. He gives your wrist one last squeeze. 

Junie looks tired in that she's getting agitated, whimpering under her breath. Eddie ducks down to give her upper arm a good rub. "Why don't you go cuddle with your mom?" he asks her, turning her by the shoulder so that you're in her eye-line. "Go have a lie down." 

He doesn't know whether what he says makes any difference but you extend your arms out and Junie walks towards you, big staggered steps that make him laugh to himself as he pushes into his unlaced converse. 

"Don't forget to lock up," he says in place of a farewell. 

"Goodnight, Eddie," you say. 

He waves. You're both too tired to wave back. 

He's surprised to find his Uncle Wayne still home when he gets in, shoving into his work boots with a grunted hello.

"Hey." 

"Did you cut your hair?" Wayne asks, perplexed, a little gruff. 

"Junie's mom did it for me." 

"'Junie's mom,'" Wayne quotes dryly, slugging his bag over his shoulder. He's heard all about Junie's mom.

Eddie scratches the back of his neck and splutters when a big hand claps his back, a demonstration of Wayne's pity as he passes through the open door. 

Eddie spins to watch him jog down the steps. "We're friends," Eddie calls. 

"Don't be dumb," his uncle says without turning back. 

"I'm not exactly known for being smart," Eddie says to himself, cheeks heated by a furious blush. 

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist | multi-chapter

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

Loved it so much. Hope that you continue writing. If you do, can I be tagged, please? 🥰

Sacrifice [Snippet]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Y/n Byers and Eddie Munson were killed in the battle. Vecna had claimed their lives and murdered them right in front of their friends’ eyes. They died heroes, saving the town that hated them both. And now, months later, the first Christmas since Hawkins’ destruction had come around. But no one celebrates. Instead, they are entering hell to finally stop Vecna. They were prepared for everything. Or... so they thought…

[i've been working on a new series but i'm really not sure if it will be worth continuing. please feel free to let me know in the comments or in my asks whether or not you would like me to keep going or just to scrap it lmao. but, to be clear, this would involve kas!eddie...]

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of death, mentions of blood, mourning/loss

Sacrifice

[Snippet]

Present Day. North Hawkins.

“Merry Christmas, guys.”

Dustin’s voice calls out into the darkness and they all take in a breath. It was Christmas already?

Nine months. That’s how much time had passed since Hawkins became a town full of monsters. Since the battle, one they had miserably lost, their home had been destroyed by Vecna’s efforts and everything they knew was flipped upside down.

They would have given up. The party would have left when they had the chance, as would have Nancy, Jonathan, Steve and Robin. But they couldn’t leave, not yet.

Dustin remembered that night as if it happened yesterday. It haunted his dreams, danced around in his mind until he felt nothing and everything all at the same time. It consumed him, the thought that he had lost someone.

As he curls up into his sleeping bag, tears slipping down his cheek, his fingers gently brush against the torn fabric wrapped around his wrist, a familiar design tugging at his guilt.

He never even got the chance to take care of those little sheep.

March 1986. The trailer park. Upside Down.

Eddie led there on the ground, body slowly becoming numb to the feeling.

A few nights ago, he would never had imagined that this would be how it ended for him. Hell, he wouldn’t have even begun to thought that he, Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson, would have done anything other than run away. But he didn’t this time.

Even as the blood drained from his body and his vision darkened, he was proud of himself.

You had been the one that always told him he was braver than he thought he was. His love, the girl that fell for even his weirdest characteristics, was the only part of his life he ever saw the meaning of. You were his, and he was yours. You were his reason to live. But, as it turns out, he had many reasons to die.

There was a split second of guilt when he stopped climbing that rope. He knew you’d be furious with him for even thinking about leading the demobats away. But Dustin was right there, calling out to him. And he adored the kid like a little brother he always wanted. And he knew that, even if you were mad at him for it, you’d understand why he did it.

“EDDIE!”

Eddie slowly opens his eyes just as Dustin crouches beside him, tears streaming down his face. He really wished he didn’t have to see this.

“Oh god, Eddie.” Dustin cries and Eddie chokes up blood, unable to meet his eyes.

“Bad, huh?” He attempts a joke, but the light inside him is already fading.

“No, no, no.” Dustin shakes his head, but his voice is thick with fear, “You’re gonna be fine. We just gotta get you to a hospital, okay?”

“Okay.” Eddie breathes out. His eyes finally lock onto Dustin’s and sadness floods in. Eddie knows he’s not going to make it. But he’s already made his peace. He made it as soon as those bats surrounded him.

So, after Dustin attempts to move him, he does the only thing he can. He smiles.

“I didn’t run away this time, right?”

Dustin lets out a soft cry as he beats against his chest lightly. “No, no. You didn’t run.”

“You’re gonna have to look after those little sheep for me, okay?” He begs, knowing that Dustin Henderson would be his only rightful successor. If he had to leave him, he at least wanted to let him know just how highly he thought of him.

“No, you’re gonna do that yourself!” Dustin protests with a sob and Eddie simply shakes his head, tears slipping down his cheeks.

“And…” His time is running out as another breath chokes from him. “… tell Y/n… I love her, okay? Please…”

Dustin struggles to speak. “I promise. I will look after them. And her.”

The sky above him was dark blue, crimson bleeding through the black clouds. A shot of burning light pierced through, highlighting the tiny white specs floating aimlessly above his face.

And, suddenly, death didn’t scare him anymore.

Eddie flashes one last smile before he feels himself slip away, muffled cries and whimpers fading into the silence.

There’s a flash of your face, your smile, your laugh. And then a flash of red before total, and complete, darkness.

Present Day. South Hawkins.

“Hey, guys? It’s Christmas Day.”

Robin looks up from her watch to stare back at her friends, a frown laced onto their faces before emotion takes over.

Nancy looks to Jonathan as his face drops, blood practically draining from his face. She gently reaches her hand out to comfort him. But he doesn’t want the sympathy. Instead, he stands, muttering something about taking watch before walking a few steps away and staring out at the red smoke in the sky just outside of their shelter.

She catches Steve’s eye, his own expression sorrowful before he cleared his throat and looked away. She felt helpless, unable to rid Jonathan of the pain he was feeling.

Nancy remembered every detail of that night, plagued by the memory anytime she looked at her boyfriend. She had lost a best friend, just as they all did. But Jonathan lost family. He couldn’t seem to make peace in any way, even knowing why his sister did it.

Y/n Byers died to save their lives.

March 1986. The Creel House. Upside Down.

All your life, you had been sacrificing your own needs for everyone else.

Usually little things, like driving Will to school even when you were going to be late for work. Or helping Steve and Dustin with a new-found theory when you were meant to be applying to colleges. But these things didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.

Not compared to Vecna.

Fire was thrown at him in bottles, Steve and Robin aiming with all their might. Fire was the only known thing that could destroy the creatures from the upside down. But, as you stand there beside Nancy, and watch the flames simply dance along Vecna’s skin, you realise it wasn’t working as it should.

Guns were a back up plan. You had all thought for sure that the fire would take him out, make him weaker. But it only made him stronger.

Nancy must have blasted hundreds of shots before Vecna finally stumbled. She was running out of ammo already, and he was recovering from every bullet, and every scorch.

As you look to your friends with wide eyes, their breaths are unsteady. You clutch the weapon in your hand. It was only meant to be a last resort. None of you were meant to get that close.

Vecna was practically breathing the fire before someone made a move. Steve grabbed a knife and threw, aimed just right to pierce the monster’s heart. But he was prepared, arm outstretched to hold it in the air as the others gasped.

“Shit.” Steve mutters as the knife is slowly flipped, pointed edge staring back at him. Vecna was staring him down, building power to shoot it back at him. He wouldn’t be fast enough to dodge it.

They were just lucky that Vecna never got to the chance to attack.

In the distraction, you had gripped onto your spear tightly, moving around him and, at the very last moment, you jumped forward and plunged it into his chest with all your strength.

Sure enough, he screeched out in pain, the knife clattering to the floor as he struggled to pull the metal out of his body. The action caused him to stumble back towards the window, fire still burning in places as Nancy readied her gun once more.

But, to your surprise, Vecna slumped to the ground, eyes fluttering shut as something oozed from the mark you had made.

“Holy shit!” Robin exhaled after a minute of silence, a breathy laugh leaving her lips before you all felt grins of relief on your own faces.

You were all too busy in your premature celebration to notice the slight movement in his hand, or the way his eye twitched. In fact, you didn’t know he was still alive until his bony hand wrapped around your neck and pulled you towards him.

“NO!” Your friends screamed, fumbling for any kind of weapon.

Vecna had you in front of him, your body shielding his. And the only weapon worth using was the shotgun in Nancy’s hands, a force strong enough to tear through the wall he had put up. Strong enough to tear through you.

His claws dug into your skin, drawing blood, as your eyes met Nancy’s fearful ones. You could almost see the options guilting their way into her brain, dancing around as she tried to find another way.

But the sheer pain-inducing grip Vecna held you in made one thing clear; you were going to die regardless.

“Do it, Nance.” You nod with tear stained cheeks and her eyes widen, pooling over with emotion.

“No.” She shakes her head profusely. “I can’t. I won’t.”

“It’s okay.” You try to smile, Vecna’s hand digging further into the area just below your neck. It was excruciating to say the least.

You couldn’t ask Nancy to shoot you, to bear that guilt. You didn’t expect Steve and Robin to either. All you knew was that if you were going to die, it would be on your own terms. And it would take Vecna with you.

Red light blared through the window behind you, stronger than the flickering lights above your head. You squeezed your eyes shut, mustering up a silent apology. To them, to your brothers.

To Eddie.

His only ask of you, before you left him and Dustin, was to stay alive. That was his only request. And despite how you longed to see his face again, to watch as his cheeks dimpled over with his wide grin, messy hair swaying in laughter… to simply just hold him… you knew what you had to do.

You hoped he would forgive you.

A single tear trickled down your cheek as you made up your mind, looking back at your friends one last time.

Before they could even react, you pushed off from the floorboards, throwing all your weight back into the creature behind you.

Screams and yells echoed around you in slow motion as Vecna crashed through the window, his grip tight on you.

You fell backwards through the shattered glass, already falling from the attic before his claws finally released you.

Then, it came in flashes.

The feeling of air whistling past your ears as you dropped, your hair whipping at your face. The final moment of hitting the ground beneath you.

You felt your body break, the blood pouring from your mouth as you led there, staring up at the dark blue sky, crimson bleeding through the black clouds. A shot of burning light pierced through, highlighting the tiny white specs floating aimlessly above your face.

You weren’t afraid of death, not really, but the idea made you nervous. Yet, somehow, laying there, you were… calm.

The last thing you remember was your vision darkening, an image of Vecna leaning over you, hand hovering in front of your face.

And then, it all went black.

I love every story who mentions Wayne, because he is always a sweetheart, an amazing uncle that deserves the world.

Loved your story. Eddie is the cutest. Not gonna lie, would love a part 2 where Eddie's confession is talked about 🤭 🥰

A/N: This popped into my head earlier, I had to write it before Christmas is over for this year! Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 1348 Warnings: fluff

Continuar lendo

No, the one I like is in Hawkins. 

C'moooon. STOP BEING STUPID! KISS. DATE. MARRY. HAVE CHILDREN ALREADY!!

"I have a girlfriend!"

Wait, wait, wait. WHAT?? OMGGGG. 😫😫😫😫 I can't even be angry with Steve because he waited so much for y/n and he deserves someone who can makes him happy the way he deserves. 😭😭😭 I didn't think that read Steve say that the other girl is funny and sweet and that he wants to give it a chance would hurt me so much 😭😭😭

Loved the chapter. Your writing really amazes me 😍😍

timing's a bitch (s.h) - 3/5

spring '86

i almost had you and i almost wish you would've loved me too - almost, bowling for soup (x)

"if you have chemistry, you only need one other thing...timing. but timing is a bitch" - how i met your mother

a.k.a a.k.a the three times that steve harrington chose the wrong moment, the one time that you chose the wrong moment, and the one time you both got it right (series masterlist)

You didn’t come back to Hawkins until Spring. 

It was nothing to do with Steve. Actually, nothing had changed with him. Aside from looking at him and realising that he was single-handedly responsible for the best night of your life, he was still Steve to you. Steve, who you had shaken hands with and agreed that neither of you would ever mention the hook up. Steve, who had insisted you both have a mature conversation about your fight. Steve, who had continued to drive to the city every other fucking weekend since then so you could spend time together as best friends. Just best friends. Nothing else. Even though you shared ice cream at Coney Island and stalked through Battery City at six in the fucking morning to admire the views. You shared a bed and many demons but here you were. Best friends. 

Spring Break came around quicker than you expected. You’d been eager to spend more than a singular weekend at home and actually catch up with your old friends; coffee with Nancy and record shopping with Eddie were all on the agenda, but Steve had insisted on booking you up for most of the week you were home. In some way, hooking up had accidentally brought you closer. All signs of co-dependency that you would rather have ignored than face in couples therapy. Who had the money? 

That night had played on your mind over and over again, as had the other night that you and Steve almost-but-didn’t actually hook-up. That word, you’d found, had come up a lot in recent months: almost. You almost slept with him. You almost took Steve up on his offer of a relationship. You almost begged him to stay the morning after you fucked. So many almosts in the space of just a few months and it was starting to fry your brain. You’d gone fourteen years without ever thinking of Steve as anything more than a friend; fourteen years pitying whichever girl he was trying to woo that week. You’d never anticipated that you might one day be one of those girls. 

It didn’t feel as bad as you thought it would.

Your first day home, as promised to your parents, was spent at their house. It was unpacking and lunch and then catching up on what you’d done since Christmas - though you refrained from telling them who you had done -and then finally, around sun down, they released you from their grip to go and meet your friends at the lake. Steve, as promised, pulled up outside your house at 8:02PM. 

He met you half-way up the garden path, taking you in his embrace.

“Hey, stranger!”

“Hey, Steve,” you laughed. “I only saw you last week-”

“- in New York,” he cut you off, releasing you from his grip. He ran a hand over your hair with a grin. “Seeing you in Hawkins is…different.”

You frowned. “Different how?”

“Just different,” he shrugged. “C’mon, everyone’s already at the lake.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you huffed, following Steve to the car. “My mum was talking my ear off for like three hours about my Aunt Fiona’s operation.”

Steve smiled. “Don’t apologise. I visited her in hospital last week and she’s doing okay.”

“You visited my aunt in hospital?”

“Well…yeah,” he said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve known her basically my entire life.”

“It’s not that,” you replied. “It just looks really bad that I didn’t come from New York earlier to see her-”

“-it’s okay, you’re busy,” he shrugged. “Besides, I will always be Fiona’s favourite. The Golden Child.”

You chattered back and forth until you reached the lake. 

As promised, Nancy was already down there with the gang and, true to her nature, she’d brought everything you could possibly need. A tent, towels, stuff to make s’mores when the sun went down. Evening was slowly creeping in but it was still very warm out - maybe seventy or so degrees - and the water looked beautiful under the pink sunset. Save for a few other groups dotted about the shores, the lake was pretty quiet. That meant that the group had spread out a little. 

Still, that didn’t stop them all piling in your direction as soon as they saw you get out of Steve’s car. Nancy first, and then Robin, and then finally Eddie Munson wrapped his wily arms around you and dragged you over to where they were sat. There was no pointing in screaming and kicking - he was freakishly strong after all - because that would only encourage him even more to dump you straight in the lake. So, you were grateful when he dropped you on the ground and handed you a beer from his cooler. 

“Beers are on me, ladies,” he grinned proudly. “Stole ‘em from my uncle.”

“And they say romance is dead,” Robin muttered. 

“So,” Nancy rolled her eyes at them, pulling the attention to you. “How’s New York? How’s college?”

“It’s amazing!” you grinned. “The city is amazing and college is amazing and…it’s amazing.”

Steve leant over to you, voice lowered. “Say amazing one more time and we might believe you.” 

“I wanna go to a proper one next year when I’m done with this community college bullshit,” Eddie chimed in. “I hear the hook-up culture is amazing at the inner-city ones. Better than it is here, I hope.”

“I mean…yeah, it’s good,” you shrugged. “Depends where you go, though.”

“There must be so many guys in New York,” Nancy said. “Found any nice suitors yet?”

No, the one I like is in Hawkins. 

You glanced over at Steve, but shook your head. “There’s been some here and there but…all that’s boring. Let’s go in the lake before it gets dark!”

With that you, you cleared your throat and stood up. Tossing aside your t-shirt, you kicked off your shoes and ran into the water before anyone could ask any further questions.

The lake was cold, despite the warm air, and you quickly regretted throwing yourself in so quickly. Even though the ice cold water wasn’t any less painful than the conversation you were having back on the shore, you sort of preferred the suffering when it was just a metaphorical sense. Still, you forced yourself to swim further out in an attempt to get away and to warm-up. Two birds, one stone and all that. The lake wasn’t massive but still, you only got half way out before your arms began to ache.

Grabbing onto a buoy, you pulled yourself up to catchy our breath. You’d never been the strongest swimmer but you could have been an Olympian when it came to running away from conversations you didn’t want to have. Only for a little while, though, because Steve - who was an annoyingly quick swimmer - was already on his way over. The other three, it seemed, were stood on a bridge arguing over who was going to go in first. Nancy pushing Eddie in was the last thing you made out before your best friend arrived on the scene. 

“They get too much for you already?”

You smiled a little bit, shaking your head. “No, they just ask a lot of questions.”

“And you ran away because…?”

“I-” you began, but then stopped. “No reason, Steven. I just wanted to get in the water before it got too cold.”

“Y’know I hate when you call me Steven,” he muttered. “That’s not even my legal name-”

“- yeah, but it’s funny when you get mad.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you grinned. 

“Something’s on your mind, isn’t it?” Steve asked. 

“What makes you say that?”

“Your constant changing on the subject, the fact you near enough drowned yourself when Nancy raised the question of boys-”

“- I just wanna enjoy tonight,” you cut him off. “I appreciate you looking out for me but right now, let’s just have fun. Please?”

Steve nodded and gave you a little smile. “Of course - just as long as you promise to tell me what it is later?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

“And you know I’ve always got you,” he kept one hand on the buoy, raising the other to give you a light punch on the shoulder. “Provided that this new thing of running into freezing cold water every time you’re inconvenienced doesn’t become a habit, m’kay?”

“Lakes are a very good way of avoiding certain subjects,” you teased. “And you still came in after me.”

“I said it in sixth grade when I saved you from the pool and I’ll say it again,” he said. “I will always come after you.”

That was a promise he had kept: Steve had never not come after you. After every bad date and bad day and bad anything, he’d always been there. He’d come after you on New Years Eve simply just because he missed you and tonight, he’d come after you the second you’d run away. He’d saved you in every way since you slipped and fell in the pool all those years ago. 

You took one hand off the buoy, gently placing it on Steve’s face. His eyes followed your movements, brown irises never leaving your form as you thumb softly stroked his cheek. Any other time, he would have slapped it away and called you cheesy, but right then, he didn’t move. In fact, he was stone cold still as you leant in towards him - not from the cold, and not from shock either. Wasn’t it sort of established that kissing was just a thing you did now?

Steve met you half way, face slowly inching towards yours. 

And then, as if by magic, you both suddenly pulled backwards just before your lips touched. 

“I have a girlfriend!”

“I’m dropping out of college!”

The revelations came at the same time and were met with equal looks of shock on both your faces. You reeled backwards, not bothering to avoid splashing Steve as you did. Eyes wide with surprise and what he thought might have been fury, you pulled yourself to the other side of the buoy to take a moment. Just a moment, even a singular second, to process what the fuck he had just said. 

Steve was in a similar situation; he’d never even considered the idea that you might ever move home so soon. After all the bullshit conversation about things changing and this is what I want, Steve, even the possibility had seemed so far fetched. He would have been overwhelmed with joy at your revelation had you not looked like you were about to stab him. 

“What the fuck?!” you demanded. “When you were going to tell me that?!”

“When were you going to tell me about you dropping out?!”

“I think we should talk about your thing first!” you said. “So I’ll ask again - when you were gonna tell me?” 

“I don’t know!” Steve exclaimed. “Tonight, probably? Maybe tomorrow? Honestly, it was just something I was going to slip into conversation-”

“- we talk every fucking day, Steve! Every day say hey, what’s new? and you NEVER thought to answer the question with I HAVE A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND?!”

“I thought you’d be happy for me!”

“You’re so stupid,” you muttered. “I’m not angry at you for having a girlfriend, I’m angry at you because you didn’t tell me, and also maybe a little angry that we almost just kissed and you didn’t stop me earlier!”

“I forgot?”

“How do you forget?”

Steve sighed. “Imagine the thing you want most in the world. And then imagine finding a thing that makes you almost as happy as the last thing. And then imagine that the first thing, the thing you want most in the world, is trying to kiss you and you temporarily forget about the other thing-”

“- I’m the thing you want most in the world?” you asked softly.

“In any form, yes,” he admitted. “I met this girl a few weeks ago at the arcade. She’s funny and sweet and…I really want to give it a chance, okay? I owe it to myself because I think, to some extent, I might still be recovering a little from your rejection. You are not easy to get over.”

You smiled, giving him a little nod. “So I’m too late to ask you to take a chance on us when I move back?”

“‘Fraid so,” he murmured. “I love being your best friend and I’m so glad that you’re mine, but like I said, getting over you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. You’re on my mind 24/7 and after we hooked up, it only got worse and…honestly? I think I might just need to let myself be with someone else for a while. She’s good for me. The change is good.”

“Yeah,” you tried to swallow your pain, forcing a grimace. “Change can be good.”

“Can we talk about your thing now?” he asked. “Are you really dropping out?”

“Mm,” you nodded. “I haven’t been happy for a while. I tried to wait it out but I think I need to come home for a while.”

“And I’ll be here every step of the way, I promise,” Steve said. “C’mon, let’s head back to shore before it gets dark.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right behind you.”

Steve gave you one last smile before letting go of the buoy and swimming away. As soon as he was a few meters out, you released your grip too and let yourself slip underwater. Only for a second, just long enough to open your mouth and let out the world’s biggest yell  of frustration. On and on and on, until your lungs hurt from the presence of screaming and absence of breathing. Then, you re-submerged to the surface and took a deep breath. 

If only you’d been a few weeks earlier.

taglist: @yaskna @karasong @etherealforever234 @i-bitch-you-bitch @aphex2winn @raes-gay @handsupforamiracle @palmtreesx3 @lokiofasgard616 @notahappystan @we-out-here-simping @angel-jz @suniloli @mapleransom-blog @thexplosivegirl @lou-la-lou @eddiemunsonloml

Y/n is the dumbest bitch out there OMGGGG

I swear that if I dated Hawks and was accused of cheating on him and received death threats and this mf didn't say nothing to help.... Omg, he would be dead to me. Absolutely dead! How can y/n be so dumb??? 😫😫😫😫😫 Girl, sit down. Let's talk about how big an asshole he was and why you shouldn't talk to him anymore and should focus on Bakugou!!

fbi open up

bakugo katsuki x reader

amongst search histories and private youtube videos

part twenty-seven: i’ll break all your teeth

masterlist // part twenty-six // part twenty-eight

taglist @bakugouswh0r3 @kara062284-blog @nevilila @levylovegood @whore-of-many-hot-men @whosecaitlin @jazzylove @jasmixs @hypernovaxx @charliepoopyfart @ti-i-ja-izvan-svemira @fallingmoon02 @megnotfound @thankk-u-next @sukislady @fairywriter-oracle @parker-natasha @itgetzweird08 @lagataprrr @203steph @ange-lica-3 @thisrandombitch @mjsnightmares @aelouslvr @thereal-persephone @citrustsuki @nonomesupposedto @bubble-teabubs @softtashoney @blaaiissee @theycallme-becky @marsprivateclub @leeyah04 @winterv-black @azamii0 @simply-vulpecular @bloombb @444katsuki @lucidliving1205 @mmmaackerel @kipani-snow-25 @tonysttank @cathwritestragediesnotsins

😭🥰😭🥰😭🥰😭🥰😭🥰😭🥰😭🥰😭

Puppy Love

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Reader (she/her pronouns used)

Category: Friends to lovers, neighbours to lovers, fluff

Summary: Your neighbour Dieter's dog is the only comfort you need during stressful days. Well, maybe her and her owner.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of suicidal thoughts, a sick dog, hints of depression, it's mainly just fluff, idiots in love, flashback in italics

Word count: 6.3k (This was originally supposed to be a few hundred words of really basic pure fluff but it turned into a few thousand words with an actual storyline?? Who knew I was capable of that?)

A/N: This is soooo self indulgent because I was feeling down and looking at that photo of Pedro as Dieter with the baby goat. I didn’t think it was realistic for him to have a pet goat so I changed it to a dog. Called Frankie. (Named after Pedro’s character in Triple Frontier…) In hindsight, a cat would’ve made more sense but now it’s too late. He’s kind of out of character so imagine it’s him pre-fame. This isn’t my best work but decided to publish anyway since I put some effort into it.

You knocked on Dieter's door frantically. You'd just had the worst possible day imaginable. You'd slept through your alarm, broken a heel on the way to work, then your train was late and to top it all off your boss was in a terrible mood and took all of his frustrations out on you.

You'd trekked home in the rain which was just the icing on a shitty day, immediately walking past your apartment to go to Dieter's instead. It was sort of an unspoken arrangement the two of you had that neither of you could remember starting or even how it had started. All you knew is that it had been happening years, ever since you moved into the building really. If you'd had a bad day then you'd go over to his to have a cuddle with his dog, Frankie, whilst talking it over with Dieter. And if he'd had a bad day then he'd come over to yours and eat something you'd either baked or cooked, whichever was most recent.

Normally, you'd go to yours first in order to get changed and dump your work stuff but today was especially bad. Bad enough to force you out of that ritual and to go straight to his instead. You continued knocking, not stopping until you heard him on the other side of the door.

"Okay, okay! Calm down!" He swung open the door and his eyes landed on you, drenched from the rain and on the verge of crying. He didn't even need to greet you. "Need Frankie?"

You nodded, your bottom lip trembling. "Please."

"Come on in then." He opened the door wider and stepped to the side, quietly ushering you in and closing it behind you. "She's in her usual spot on the couch.”

"Thank you." You mumbled to him before speed walking into the next room to find Frankie curled up on the end of the sofa. You approached her carefully, not wanting to disturb her too much and took a tentative seat next to her, reaching out to stroke softly down her back as you dropped your bag to the floor. "Hey, sweetie."

Frankie sleepily blinked her eyes open, took one look at you and crawled over to sit in your lap, leaning her head on your chest before she went back to sleep. There was sort of a bond between you and Frankie, one that even Dieter envied. He supposed it was because Frankie just seemed to understand when you were feeling sad so became the ultimate cuddle machine, perfect for you to find comfort in.

Dieter watched the two of you from the doorway, smiling to himself at the sight. His two favourite girls cuddled up together on his sofa. "I'll make coffee." He said before walking through to the kitchen, not giving you a chance to reply.

You barely noticed what he had said, just humming blindly in agreement as you cradled the dog closer to your chest, burying your face in the soft fur of her head. Blinking back tears, you kick off your shoes and crossed your legs underneath yourself, careful not to disturb the sleeping canine in your arms.

Dieter returned after a couple of minutes, a cup of coffee in each hand that he put down on the table before sitting next to you on the couch. He watched you for a moment, clearly trying to hold back tears as you cuddled the life out of his dog. He'd never seen you this bad. And he'd been with you through your best and worst days.

"Want to talk about it?" He asked, clearing his throat and shifting towards you a little, placing his arm on the back of the couch behind you.

"Not really." You sighed and leaned your head against his shoulder, a new development that surprised him. No matter how much you cuddled Frankie, you and him had never gone past a brief hug at the end of the night or a quick kiss on the cheek if you decided to venture out and go to a bar instead of staying in for the night.

He didn't protest to it though, instead wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him so you were practically invited to snuggle into his side. An eruption of butterflies fluttered through his stomach when you let out a content hum before completely relaxing against him. Dieter decided to fully commit to the extremely friendly situation and leant his own head on top of yours, subtly inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

"Did you just sniff me?" You croaked out, half laughing.

Okay, maybe not so subtle then.

He hesitated before answering. "...No..."

You giggled which was music to his ears after seeing you so down, quietly apologising when you disturbed Frankie from her slumber with your rumbling chest. "Sorry, sweetie, sorry. Just go back to sleep. That's it. Sshhh..."

"You're so good with her." Dieter blurted out, not being able to stop his brain before the words spilt out of his mouth.

"How could I not be? She's my best girl. And the reason I'm not diving off a cliff right now. Plus she's too sweet not to love. How could anyone not be good with her?" You said the last bit in a higher pitched tone since Frankie had begun to stir again already and looked up at you with big puppy-dog eyes that made you melt in the middle.

"You'd be surprised how many people aren't so kind to her." It made Dieter's heart ache to hear you mention the desire to jump off a cliff but he didn't know how serious you were about it. "Is it really that bad?"

"What?" You sat up slightly, briefly glancing at him before you turned back to bumping your nose against Frankie's and stroking her floppy ears.

"Do you really want to dive off a cliff?" He whispered the question, almost careful as to not upset you even more.

You seemed to ponder it for a moment before shaking your head. "No. Not anymore at least. I do remember a time when it was that bad but it hasn't been that way for a while now."

"Oh, that's good." He nodded at you, not noticing the smile you gave him as you looked back at the dog on your lap. "You would come to me though, wouldn't you? If it ever did get that bad again, right?"

"Of course, Dieter." You scoffed as if it were obvious. "You're my best friend. Well, besides Frankie of course."

You both grinned at that, the two of you turning your attention to the dog in question.

"You hear that, Frankie? She loves you more than she loves me! Can you believe that? And after I've let her into my home! The audacity!" He ruffled the top of her head and tugged on her ears gently.

"Well, how could I possibly ever love someone more than I love the bestest and most adorable dog in the world? Isn't that right, Frankie? Are you the best?" You got a sniffle back in reply which you could only assume meant agreement. "Exactly. It's only logical that I love you most. Although, Dieter is a very close second."

Dieter listened to you continue to whisper nonsense to his dog, his heart picking up pace in his chest at the sight of it. His body ached with how much he loved you, the pain of it only increasing as he watched you interact with the most important thing in his life. It was almost too perfect to be real. And that's exactly what it was because it suddenly dawned on him that he didn't actually have you. You were just his neighbour. Not his girlfriend, not his fiancée, not his wife. His neighbour. And that stung.

The night passed by in a flash and soon enough you were saying your goodbyes to Frankie, peppering kisses all over her face as you collected your stuff from the floor. Dieter watched you with a feeling of emptiness in his chest. He longed to ask you to stay the night. He longed to kiss you, to ask you out on a proper date. But he knew he shouldn't. Not only had you known each other for years that it would seem strange now, but you were also his neighbour and if it didn't work out then it would lead to a very awkward relationship of polite nods in the hallway and nothing else. He couldn't risk what you already had going. Spending evenings together as you cuddled his dog would have to suffice for now.

"Thanks as always, Dieter. I still appreciate this." You said as you walked towards his front door.

"No problem. I'm always here to help... Well, Frankie is actually but you get me." He ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly on the roots as he cursed himself for seeming so awkward suddenly.

Luckily, you just laughed him off. "Give my thanks to Frankie as well then, won't you?"

"Hmm? Oh, ahaha yes." He wanted to punch himself for being so out of it but he couldn't help it. A million thoughts were running through his mind. Every single one of them involving you. Majority of them involving you and him. "Hey, I've got an audition next week and I'm bound to fuck it up."

"I'll make sure to have something prepared, don't worry." You opened his front door and turned to look at him. "Any special requests?"

"Nah, I'm sure anything you make will be perfect." He winced at his poor attempt at flirting. When did it get so difficult?

"You flatter me, Bravo." You stood on the tip of your toes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight, Dieter. Don't let the bed bugs bite."

"Goodnight." He said it in a breathy voice, almost lightheaded at the feeling of your lips against his skin.

You just smiled at him before leaving his apartment and walking down to your own, closing the door behind you on the way out. Dieter made his way back to the lounge, scooped Frankie up into his arms and walked into his bedroom. Not even bothering to brush his teeth or get changed, he collapsed on his bed, careful not to squish his dog, and switched off the lamp as he let out a loud groan.

"You get it. Don't you, Frankie? You understand why I love her so much, right?" He asked the canine but received a blank look in return making him bury his face in the pillows. "Of course you do. The two of you are practically best buds. So you understand why I feel this way about her."

Frankie didn't even make a sound in response, just crawled up the length of the bed and plopped down to cuddle into Dieter’s side before dropping off into yet another deep sleep. He looked at her with a smile before shortly following her example and falling asleep next to her.

It wasn't even a week later that you were rapidly banging on Dieter’s door again, this time with a box of cookies under one arm. You'd had another shit day at work, not as bad as the one a few days prior but still pretty awful. Since it was so soon since your last visit to Dieter's you decided to take something with you to compensate. Your most recent baking venture being an assortment of cookies you'd stress-made the night before.

You were about to start knocking again when the door opened and Dieter looked down at you with a sad expression.

"What's the matter?" You asked him before he could even invite you in.

"Frankie's not here." He whispered, clearly upset by it. "She got sick so I took her to the vet."

"Is she okay?" You were immediately worried. Frankie meant more to you than you could ever put into words and the prospect of her not being alright set you on edge.

"Yeah, she's fine. They just wanted to keep her in observation overnight just in case." He ran a hand down his face and sighed. "I assume that's why you're here. For Frankie cuddles."

He added a light tone to the end of his sentence but you could tell he wasn't as fine as he was letting on. And you couldn't blame him. His dog was sick.

"Dieter, are you okay?" You asked tentatively, tilting your head to the side in question. Despite mainly going to his place for his dog, you cared deeply for him. More than you'd ever let on. He really was your best friend and you only wanted him to be happy.

"Yeah, I'm... good." He hesitated before finishing the sentence, knowing he didn't sound the least bit convincing. "Sorry Frankie's not here to comfort you though."

"Don't worry about it. Her well-being is more important." You waved it off and suddenly remembered the box tucked under your arm. "Oh! I brought you these. Fresh from like... two this morning." You held it out to him with a warm smile, the kind that set his heart on fire.

"Thank you." He took the box from your grasp, seeming to think about something for a moment before he opened his door slightly wider. "I'm no Frankie but I'm sure I'm an okay cuddler. If you want."

He appeared shy about the offer, not surprising given he'd never suggested something like this before. It took the both of you aback about how he'd just come out and said it and not beat around the bush about it. A light blush spread across your cheeks, the skin getting hot at the idea but nonetheless you nodded your head in agreement anyway.

"I'm sure you're a great cuddler." You said before stepping past him and into his flat, thankful that you'd actually gone home first to change into some more comfortable clothes this time. As much as cuddling with Dieter sounded delightful, it would most definitely be ruined by your work attire.

Dieter followed behind you awkwardly, stunned that you'd actually agreed to come in and... cuddle with him? Was this really about to happen? If it was, he could fly over the moon with delight. He'd been dreaming about this for years. Something so simple and silly could be something so extremely significant for him, it was wonderful in his eyes.

"How'd you want to do this?" You asked, suddenly spinning around to face him. "Only I really need a hug and I'm not in the mood for discussing cuddle arrangements for ten minutes.

He was caught off guard by your abruptness, placing the box of cookies down on his coffee table. How were you supposed to do this? Dieter looked at his couch, it was too small for the two of you to properly be comfortable without practically lying on top of each other. He thought it over in his head for a moment, noticing your growing restlessness out of the corner of his eye. He didn't want to keep you waiting so he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Bedroom!"

"Excuse me?" You raised your eyebrows at him, confused by the outburst. Had he just suggested going to his bedroom?

Dieter cleared his throat and repeated himself. "I think my couch is too small for the two of us so, if you're okay with it, we could go to my bedroom and use my bed instead. I swear the sheets are clean. I changed them yesterday."

You wanted to laugh at him, he was all awkward and blushy and it was a beautiful sight. But you held off on the laugh and just nodded instead. "I'd love that. Thank you."

He nodded in return, once again surprised by your easy agreement. "Right. Let's... let's go then."

"Lead the way." You gestured your arm in the direction of the short hallway leading to his bedroom. You'd never been inside, the furthest you'd ventured in his home being the bathroom. So this was all new for you. New and exciting.

He walked ahead of you to his bedroom, opening the door and allowing you to go in first. "Make yourself comfortable."

"Which side of the bed is yours?" You asked as he shut his bedroom door, glancing around his room to take it in. A couple framed pictures on the walls and books scattered on the floor really summed him up well.

"Uh... neither really. I sort of sleep in the middle. Why?" He sat on the edge of the bed, opposite to the side you were standing on.

You shrugged. "Thought it'd be easier for me to be on whichever side you don't like. Now you've made it complicated by being a middle of the bed sleeper."

He laughed and shook his head at you, amazed by your consideration for his feelings in this moment. "How about I just lay down how I normally would and you get yourself comfortable around me from that? Sound good?"

"Sounds great." You agreed, watching him crawl up the length of the bed before he collapsed against the pillows.

Dieter adjusted himself for a moment before looking at you with an expectant smile.

"Comfortable?" You asked with a slightly mocking tone, struggling to keep your adoration for him hidden.

"Extremely." He wanted to add on that he'd be even more comfortable with you next to him but refrained from it. He didn't know how far was too far. "You ready for this?"

"Extremely." You repeated back to him before sliding onto the bed beside him. The two of you hesitated for a moment, just staring at each other, before he opened his arms and gestured for you to lean against him.

"I don't bite. I swear." He said softly, giving you his most reassuring smile.

You shook your head at him playfully, finding him ridiculous. "I'm not worried about that." You sighed and fell into his embrace, the two of you immediately locking together and sinking back against the mattress.

"What are you worried about then?" He asked, trying not to freak out about how the two of you just seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces, like you were destined for one another. "You can tell me anything."

"I know." You hummed, shutting your eyes out of instinct. "I trust you more than anyone. I'm not worried just... we haven't done this before. It's new."

"Is that a bad thing?" He croaked out, worry rising in his throat that maybe you weren't as into this as he was. But how could you not be? It just seemed so perfect.

"Not at all." You fought the urge to look up at him, deciding to keep your head buried against his chest so as to not ruin the moment. "You're a great cuddler."

Dieter felt his heart whoosh through his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut. "Better than Frankie?" Better to play it off jokingly than assume anything from you or make it awkward.

"Nobody's better than Frankie." You tightened your grip around him, feeling your eyelids growing heavy. "But you're a good contender."

"Happy to be second place." He felt your breathing even out and knew that you were falling asleep. Without moving too much so as to not disturb you, he reached for the blanket at the end of his bed and tugged it over the two of you, careful not to cover your face.

Dieter listened to your soft snores for about half an hour, having you shift against him every so often but never moving too far away from him. Wondering how he got so lucky as to have you as his neighbour, he revelled in that small piece of happiness for a while before eventually falling into his own deep sleep.

The two of you were awoken the next morning by Dieter's phone ringing on the bedside table. You both groaned in annoyance at the early hour but both perked up when you saw it was the vet's calling.

"Hello?" He croaked into the phone, worry lacing his tone. You couldn't blame him. His dog was sick and the vet had called early. That didn't bode well.

Only able to hear one side of the conversation, you leant your head against Dieter's shoulder and kept a grip on his arm. Just to let him know you were there for him if he needed it.

Luckily, he didn't seem to need comforting since he let out a sigh of relief about thirty seconds into the phone call. "That's great news. Thanks. Yeah, I'll come pick her up now. Okay. Bye."

"All good?" You asked once he placed his phone back down.

"Yeah, she's fine." He smiled at you, obviously happy that Frankie was alright. "Sorry to cut this short and give you an early morning but I've got to go pick her up..."

You placed a hand on his to reassure him. "It's okay. I understand. Go bring your girl home. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to be back here."

He appeared to ponder something for a moment. "Could you come with me to pick her up?"

"Of course." You smiled at him before glancing down at your clothes. "Let me just go get changed first and then I'll be back. I'll be really quick. I promise."

"Alright." He nodded at you in return before deciding that he should probably do the same, both of you having wrinkled clothes from being in such close proximity all night.

So the two of you disappeared to your separate places to get ready before you met up again in the building's hallway, the both of you grinning like idiots at each other.

"Ready?"

"Extremely."

You drove to the vet's in silence, you could tell he was anxious about Frankie's condition so you didn't want to push him too far if he wasn't in the mood to talk. It didn't bother you too much but you were itching to talk about the night you just spent cuddling in his bed. It wasn't exactly a regular occurrence.

When you got to the surgery, you headed straight to the front desk and Dieter gave all of his information over, desperate to see his girl.

"Well, Mr Bravo, your girlfriend can go through and pick up Frankie whilst you fill out the paperwork." The receptionist offered you both a friendly smile, holding out a pen to Dieter.

"Oh, she's not my-" He started to protest but you cut him off, it was easier to just go along with it than explain your situation.

"That sounds great, thank you." You shot a look at him to tell him it was fine before turning back to the woman. "Which room is she in?"

"Just down the hall in room four."

"Thanks. I'll be back in a minute." You directed the last bit at Dieter before pushing your way through the double doors to collect Frankie.

The actor watched you go before sighing to himself and turning back to the paperwork in front of him. He groaned quietly, clicked the pen against his thigh and scribbled his signature along the bottom line.

The receptionist reached across the desk and tapped another line at the bottom. "We'll also need your girlfriend to sign the form."

He frowned and looked up at her. "Why?"

She shrugged. "It's policy. And you also put her down as an emergency contact. That is her, right?"

He nodded and read over where he'd hastily written your name the previous day as the person to contact if the vet was unable to get ahold of him. He hadn't even really thought about it, you were just the automatic choice.

Before he could think about it too much, you came back into the waiting area with a sleeping Frankie in your arms. Dieter practically melted at the sight.

"Apparently she didn't have a very good night so they gave her something to relax so she'll be very sleepy for the next few hours." You whispered to him, carefully handing her over. "Vet said she should be fine though and it was just a virus that's been going around recently. She probably caught it from another dog at the park."

"Oh, Frankster. What did those peasant dogs from the park do to you?" He hugged the dog tight to his chest and resisted the urge to cry, briefly gesturing at the reception desk. "They- uh... they need you to sign one of the forms."

"Sure." You turned back to the woman and had her point out where you needed to sign, giving a small smile to the sight of your name on the emergency contact list. Once you were done you thanked her and guided Dieter out of the surgery, letting him continue mumbling words of love to his dog. "Dieter, I'll drive, yeah? That way you can sit with Frankie on your lap."

You could tell he wasn't really listening to you but nodded anyway, too engrossed in his dog to care about anything else. It was understandable.

You managed to coax him into the car and stop holding Frankie for a second so he could put his seatbelt on.

"Dieter Bravo, put your seatbelt on right this instant or so help me god!"

"Don't Dieter Bravo me!"

After a quick minute of arguing you got him situated in his seat and went to the driver's side, speeding out of the car park as quickly as possible. The radio hummed lowly in the background as Dieter spoke to Frankie who was still asleep and unaware of what was happening around her.

"She's asleep. She can't hear you." You laughed at him, mainly because he was being so cute.

"You don't know that. You know that they say coma patients can hear you?" He didn't even glance your way, his hands travelling up and down the length of Frankie's back.

"She's not a coma patient." You continued to laugh, being careful to drive slowly so as to not get distracted. "She's a sleeping dog that's high on whatever drugs they gave her."

"Same difference." He grumbled, hiding his smile in Frankie's fur. "She's cooler than a coma patient."

"Can't argue with that one. She is the coolest dog around." You replied with a laugh. "Knew that since I first laid eyes on her."

Dieter's head snapped to look at you as he thought back to the first time you had met.

You were stumbling down the hall of your new building, desperately trying to weave in and out of the corridors and remember your way back to your apartment. You'd just had your first day at your new job and it hadn't gone as smoothly as you hoped it would. Nevertheless, you pushed through it and managed to get to the end of your shift without any serious mishaps. But now all you wanted to do was crawl into bed with a glass of wine and a book.

That would be a lot easier if you only could find your stupid apartment.

After way too long a time of searching, you finally found your new home and you let out a cheer in triumph, slapping a hand over your mouth when you realised how loud you were.

"Fuck!" You cursed to yourself when you dropped your keys, bending down with a groan to retrieve them.

"Are you okay?"

You spun around at the sound of a deep voice to see your new neighbour hanging out of his doorway with an amused smile on his face.

Embarrassed, you nodded your head and turned back to your door again. "Yep, all good."

"Really? Sounded like a lot of grunting and swearing out here. Thought you might be having sex in the hallway." He laughed to himself and then even harder when your face flushed red. "I'm Dieter by the way."

You introduced yourself and knocked on your door. "Your new neighbour."

"The one who plays loud music and has already set off the smoke alarm twice? That new neighbour?" He sent you a friendly smile that sent an eruption of butterflies rippling through your stomach.

"Yeah, sorry. Walls are thinner here than my last place. I'll be sure to turn it down and stop burning food." You wanted to curse yourself, less than a week in this place and you'd already disturbed your nice, handsome neighbour. Typical.

Dieter just shrugged at you though, obviously unfazed. "You've got good music taste so it's okay. And we've all burned food in our lives. It's understandable." He briefly turned away from you to mumble at something or someone in his flat.

You finally managed to unlock your door without Dieter's brown gaze piercing into your soul and pushed it open, throwing your bag down to the floor in annoyance. You didn't want to be rude to him but now was not the most convenient time to be making a first impression due to your sour mood.

"It was nice to meet you." You called to him before rushing into your apartment, even more embarrassed at your swift exit.

"Yeah, you too-" Dieter began to reply but your door had already slammed shut. He let out a sigh and looked down at the puppy whimpering at his feet. "What do you think, Frankster? She's cute. Awkward. But cute."

Frankie just sniffled at his ankle in response, her head suddenly snapping to look in the direction of your apartment.

He frowned at his dog. "What is it?"

That's when he heard an angry scream coming from next door.

"Fuck!"

The word was extended and loud. Loud enough that Dieter was almost positive the whole building had probably heard it. He wanted to laugh but a large part of him was concerned for your well-being. Especially when the next sounds to be heard from your place were sobs.

Uncontrollable sobs.

He debated on whether or not he should check on you, trying to decide if it was appropriate to be so worried about a neighbour he'd met once. But after about ten seconds of deliberating, he decided screw it and pushed Frankie into his flat with his foot and shut his door behind him. Dieter stood at the door of your apartment for a moment with his hand raised in a fist, once again considering if he should check on you. But his heart overtook his brain and he knocked.

When you opened the door it was clear you'd been crying. Your eyes were red and your cheeks stained with tears, yet you gave him the brightest smile you could muster. "Hey, neighbour. What's up?"

He wanted to laugh at you but held back, only letting the tiniest smile show. "Your loud exclamation of a certain word beginning with f is what's up. Are you okay?"

You opened your mouth to give him an easy lie of yeah, you were fine but moving to a new place was a little stressful. Yet the genuine look of worry in his eyes stopped you. You just shook your head at him, paired with a little shrug, not knowing what to say.

Dieter seemed to consider this for a moment. "Do you like dogs?"

"I love dogs." You let out a surprised chuckle, not knowing where that question had come from.

"Wait here." He held up a finger at you before disappearing down the hallway again. You heard his door open and close before he reappeared with the cutest puppy you'd ever seen in his arms. "This is Frankie."

"Oh." You took one look at her before bursting into tears again. This time they were happy. "Oh, she's just the sweetest. Can I hold her please?"

Dieter smiled at your politeness before handing Frankie over to you. "I find her comforting during my bad moments. Thought she could do the same for you."

You offered him a grateful smile before turning all your attention towards the puppy. "Well, aren't you the most adorable thing to ever exist. I know I only met him today but I might just have to steal you away from Dieter if I get the chance."

He watched the two of you with a smile and a pounding heart. He was already enamoured.

When you got back to your building, you opened all doors necessary for Dieter and Frankie, rushed around his apartment to collect some essential items for a sick dog and set up the most comfortable bed possible for her filled with millions of her blankets, cushions and favourite toys.

Dieter watched you walk around his place with ease, knowing where everything was and making yourself at home as you tried to set up what you thought was best for Frankie. It made him love you even more. And now with the added weight of reminiscing on your first meeting, he didn't think he could contain his feelings any longer. It was almost painful not to confess right there as he stood rooted in the middle of his lounge with you flitting around him.

Frankie was well and truly out of it, and probably wouldn't wake until the next morning, so Dieter set her down in the bed you had set up for her before he reached out an arm to stop you as you went to walk past him again.

"Calm down." He smiled at you, the same easy and kind smile that had gotten to you all those years ago. "Sit down for a second, yeah?"

"I'm trying to look after your dog, Dieter." You huffed and gestured at her sleeping form, your heart aching at the cuteness of it. "Someone's gotta be responsible around here since you couldn't stop making sad goo-goo eyes at her."

He grinned at you, thrilled by how your actions reflected how much you loved Frankie. It was one of the many things he loved about you. He brushed a strand of hair away from your face as he shook his head at you. "Wow, who thought the sad cuddler would be the responsible parent out of the two of us."

Your jaw dropped at his words whereas Dieter's just snapped shut, shocked that he'd just let that slip out.

"Parent?" You asked, mouth agape. "Frankie's parent?"

Dieter blushed and looked off to the side, trying to will away the heat in his cheeks. "Well, I guess I've almost always considered you to be Frankie's mom. You spend the most time with her aside from me. You love her a lot, possibly more than me now that I think about it." He laughed to himself and finally looked back down at you to find your eyes filling with tears. "Don't cry. Frankie's out of commission at the moment."

You shook your head at him before throwing your arms around his neck and practically jumping on him, knocking him back a few steps.

"I'm guessing that's a positive reaction then?"

"Yeah, you idiot." You mumbled into his shoulder before pulling away but leaving your arms in their place.

And just like that, tension filled the space between you. It was like the two of you were the only people in the world, just staring into each other's eyes and trying to determine whether the other was feeling the same atmosphere. After several seconds of just gazing at each other, you loosened your arms from around his neck and began to pull away, thinking he would've taken the opportunity to kiss you already if he wanted to.

Dieter's mind, on the other hand, was racing with thoughts. Should he kiss you? Was it too late already? You pulled away, did this mean you didn't want to kiss him? But you looked disappointed. Did that mean you did want to kiss him? He was so confused that he didn't know what to do, weighing up every option in his head.

"I'll-" You cleared your throat and pointed at his door. "I should go."

He didn't reply, all he knew was that he couldn't just let you leave. Not when he was so close to finally just telling you how he felt. So, instead, he placed a hand on your cheek and turned your head to face him, gave you one last look before he leaned in and kissed you, very softly. The kiss was gentle but you felt your knees almost buckle. After years of harbouring a crush on Dieter you were finally kissing him. And it was wonderful.

Once he pulled away, he looked down at you with an almost shy look, unsure of whether what he just did was okay. So he simply asked. "Is this okay?"

"I've been waiting years for you to do that." You confessed with a smile, suddenly lightheaded.

"I've been waiting years to do that." He replied with a laugh as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him. "Wish I'd done it sooner now that you appear to like me back."

You shook your head at him, finding it funny how he couldn't realise that you'd always felt this way. "I'm just glad you've done it now."

"Me too." He pulled you in for another kiss, the two of you breaking away into a fit of giggles when Frankie started snoring in the corner of the room.

"FYI, I only like you for your dog. She's the only appeal you have." You teased him in a desperate attempt to contain your excitement.

"Well... naturally." Dieter shrugged at you before he kissed you once again.

And just like that, the three of you were a family. A sleepy dog, a sad cuddler and a smitten actor.

At six o'clock Steve stares at you from the misted window as you untie the ribbon on your apron, take it off and disappear into the back of the shop. He knows you're tired and you just want to go home. He knows it, because it's the first thing you always said to him after the shift, in another life: before Vecna, before the war, before you forgot about him forever. 

I didn't expect it. Omg. You shattered my heart from this paragraph onwards. 😭😭

And the ending 😭🤌

Remember Me- Steve Harrington

Summary: Every morning Steve shows up at the coffee shop you work in and every morning you hope is the one where the cute stranger will finally talk to you. But it never happens and maybe you don't really need it. Yet, while you wait at the tables with a smile, you can't help but wonder why you feel like you've known him all your life.

Words count: 3.8k

Tags: Fluff and Angst. Post-season4 Steve Harrington / Post War/ Mentions of major character death.

Y/n smells like coffee and lemons. A strange mix that Steve still doesn't know whether its good or not. You move around the shop with a circumstantial smile on your face, a tray in your hands and a green apron used as an impassable wall against the rest of the world, your armor.

Yet you can't take your eyes off that customer, who oders American coffee every morning and sit at the table furthest from people. Sometimes he brings a curly-haired boy with him, other times there's a beautiful girl with big blue eyes - perhaps his girlfriend, perhaps a friend - and with them he smiles slightly more. But he is often alone and clarly wants to be.

You're sorry for that. You don't even know why, you have so much else to think about. You moved in the USA just a few years ago, from your  country you ended up in the middle of nowhere, in Indiana, and when you  arrived you discovered that this place is not as safe and boring as you believed. Strange deaths, accidents, earthquakes, natural disasters like it has been cursed and to be honest you have the feeling of having lost a good part of the time spent here. Now, apart from the fact that this place sucks, you should think about having fun, hanging out with boys, trying to make friends like your aunt says, but you don't. You go home at night and think of a sad stranger and you don't want to, you really don't want to but you do. Silly girl.

"What can I get you sir?" you ask, like every day. When he's alone he usually doesn't reply, he mumbles something under his mouth, looks into your eyes and points his finger at his choice. The menu next to the paper napkins is his voice and you like to listen to it.

"I'll bring it to you right away." There are no smiles between you, even if you would like to. Sometimes you've found yourself wanting a simple "thank you" said properly, not half-mouthed or in a whisper. Yet there's kindness even in the way he moves, the way he isolates himself and it's something you can't explain.

When you place the coffee on the table – a breath away from his fingers – he usually just looks at you. His are not eyes to remain indifferent to. It's not the color that makes them  so special, they're big and dark, but it's their depth, the way they seem to be a portal to that boy's soul, the way they peer into you and seem to contain not a shred of malice and seen too much. They look like a child's eyes, actually. They have something pure, sincere, tremendously tender and at the same time they contain the gaze of a veteran and they defeat you. He looks at you and you are chained. But that's okay, you wouldn't have tried to resist anyway.

He looks at you with something that reminds you of sweetness, hints at a half smile - the first - and this alone is enough to burn you inside,  even if it's snowing outside.

The boy doesn't like snow, he's always in a bad mood when it snows. One day you overheard him talking about it with his friend Dustin, Dexter, something like that. 

"Everytime I fear he is coming back"

"He can't, you know it . We made sure it can't happen again"

"Yes, but at what coast?" and his voice had broken in a yearning way, on the last syllable, like a raging river that you thought you would see burst. When you turned to look at him not a single emotion had appeared on his face. You would like to know what happened to him.

Everyday you look away from him when you realize you've spent too much time staring at him and walk away, ignoring the abandoned baconnotes on the table, silent like him. You feel stupid, a high school girl staring at the mysterious lonely boy. It's ironic and you don't know it yet, but there was a time Steve Harrington was the opposite of mysterious and lonely.

This morning it's different and you don't run away. You linger a moment too long on the marks that can be glimpsed from his shirt, scars on his neck that seem to continue under the fabric of his shirt for who knows how long. You've already noticed some small signs, but usually he's very careful to cover them. Today they are redder and more visible. You notice more scars, these never seen before, on his arms and you realize only now that he has cut his hair and when he moves them you notice and old wound on the left side of his face. 

If he wasn't around your age you'd really think he's a war veteran. You wonder what he must have been through and you don't notice his hand extended towards the cup, which meets yours. For the first time, you feel the contact with his skin, a silent echo of an unexpressed desire. You know nothing about him, barely his name. "Steve" You've heard from his friends. You know nothing of his life; still for an instant you dream of being part of it with all the monsters he must have fought to hurt himself like this. You talk with your eyes for as long as you stay close: you with a silent voice full of questions, he with a single answer. And it's always the same.

To each request, he reacts by moving his fingers, running along your palm and thumb, making red-hot marks that only you can see. You feel them, like burns on your skin, as if you are no longer in the cafeteria, surrounded by people, but in a private place, where every gesture, every touch acquires meaning. And there's no need for him to say anything, you know that today he wanted you to see his scars, he wanted to understand how you would react, he wanted you to see him for real. And you do it, you really see him, and you don't get scared. You never could. You don't know why. 

«Y/n please, could you bring me more coffee?»Another guy asks. He is just another is a customer, an ordinary, common one. Not like him. Just a guy who shows up often, asking you for coffee and smiles. And you're willing to give it to him, you're willing to pretend with the others but not with Steve, with him you only smile when you really want to and it's absurd that in his presence this happens more or less always. 

"Sure! " Breaking contact  with Steve seems more tiring than studying for the last exam, more painful than finding out you didn't pass it. You feel yourself blush as you bow your head and flutter your eyelashes, tucking the tray under your arm. Sorry, you say in one last look, ready to leave him. But he grabs your wrist with the delicacy that distinguishes him, making you turn around again. Blush again.

"I'm Steve." I know, you would like to answer however you avoid doing that. It's the first time you can hear his voice right, with words articulated slowly, fearlessly, spoken for you and you alone .

«Y/n.»

Steve runs his thumb along the inside of the wrist before letting you go, in an almost automatic gesture that he seems to regret immediately. A Last, anxious caress, which reveals what his eyes have always hidden.

"I know"

These words are the most exciting thing you've heard in a while. Suddenly you understand why Steve comes in every day, stealing a look and a few minutes of your life. Or so you believe. You feel a shiver running down your back, turning into a burning caress - the one you would like from him - and going up your spine, up to your ears. It's hope. 

You don't know how or why, you feel as if you already know him, as if in another life your skin has touched nothing but his, and you don't even believe in these things. Maybe he feels the same, the same overwhelming nostalgia for something you haven't even experienced. You hope you're right, you hope he comes here every day  just to see you, to search for a contact that happened by chance - by mistake - and to show you his tormented gaze of him, looking for the peace that he has lost in you. 

«I'll bring you some coffee» You say to another customer, looking at him without seeing him.

I have to talk to Steve. I can't let him go. Not like that. You hurry to get the hot container of coffee and reach the customer's table, dedicating a smile and a moment of your life to him. A moment that he could have, or should have, dedicated to someone else.  "Are you on duty again tonight?" You almost don't hear the question, taken as you are from another table, another customer, one different from the others. Your mind is only on Steve. "Yes," you say, glancing at Steve to make sure he's still there. He is. You suddenly feel calmer. "But only until six."

"It's already dark at six" the boy observes. "I could take you home..."

"There's really no need to, thanks." You walk up to the counter to put the container away. You hear the doorbell ring, and feel the brutal urge to turn around. 

Steve's table is now empty.

*

At six o'clock Steve stares at you from the misted window as you untie the ribbon on your apron, take it off and disappear into the back of the shop. He knows you're tired and you just want to go home. He knows it, because it's the first thing you always said to him after the shift, in another life: before Vecna, before the war, before you forgot about him forever. 

You put on your coat, gloves and wool cap, and say goodbye to your colleague. "See you tomorrow." You pull the scarf up on your chin as you open the door.  

After the war with Vecna and the disappearance of the Upside Down, even the climate has changed. The ice covers the streets, leaving just two gray trails to show the asphalt. There are very few cars parked outside the cafeteria, a badly parked red BMW stands out, it's the only one not covered in snow. Steve smiles seeing you, he holds back from calling you, enjoying the image: a colored spot in the whiteness of winter. You puff. It's cold, and you have to walk home, your high boots sinking into the white blanket, the houses still to be rebuilt across the street are the only sign of the drama Hawkins has experienced. An earthquake so strong that it has destroyed everything. You have been hurt, a head injury big enough to steal a piece of your life. A piece so important that you're only retrieving the fragments of your life here, tales of your aunt, your friends, which for some reason never seem to fit right together 

"Hey." A male voice calls you. You keep moving forward. It is not the first time that some stranger tries to approach you .

«Y/n.» You turn around, you see him and suddenly the snow and the cold disappear and the world is a warm and beautiful place. Steve. "Hello, y/n." You take a step towards him and stop, as if you've dared too much. "What are you doing out here?"

 With this wheater. You think you know the answer. And you hope to hear it from him.

"I'm here for you" Would be the sweetest music. But Steve shrugs, makes an embarrassed noise, pulling his jacket around him. You seem to notice a redness on his cheeck, you wonder if it's not just the cold. "What does it mean?" You ask, letting out a smile, tossing your tied hair. Steve's eyes catch yours, in a silent response that seems to be enough for you. For a moment everything is as before for Steve, you are only you and he is only him and in your eyes he finds the girl he fell in love with during a war that you shouldn't have had to fight. 

You arrived like lightning a year ago alongside the only friend you managed to make in the city at that time: Eddie Munson, and you were the first -together with Dustin- to try to prove his innocence, with all that this entailed: including demobats, Upside Down and Vecna. Now you don't remember anything, and maybe a little part of Steve is happy you don't have to carry the trauma with you, but you don't remember the good things either. You don't remember Eddie. When you look at his old posters or find his photos on the newspapers, to you he is just the killer who terrorized the city and you don't mourn his death. But you did it, you did it until you lost your breath, screaming at the top of your throat in the middle of the darkest night. Steve had to drag you from his  body by force, against your punches and kicks. You melted into his embrace, you vented the pain with such force that he feared your bones might break from the powerful sobs that shook you. Steve lulled you into a tormented sleep and watched over you. And then there was Max. The list of fallen soldiers got longer. Murray.Hopper, again. Will.

And Robin, oh, Rob. 

You were the only thing keeping Steve alive after that. When his best friend fell into his arms, Steve wanted to die and for a moment he stood still, ready to let himself be taken by the same cursed monster that stole Robin from him. But you were there and you needed him, he had to keep you alive. He had to think about Dustin.

Then he lost you too. In a different, unexpected way. When Vecna took you, he thought you were going to die, because the music wasn't playing and you were floating in the air and he, he looked away, like a coward, he gave up. He decided he didn't want to see you die, not like that. He regrets it every day. All he did was prepare to grab your lifeless body, imagining that he would be the next one to die. He couldn't live in a world without Robin.

 But in a world without Robin where he didn't even have you, it was torture, hell. The world was shaking again and the earth was cracking  and Steve desperately wanted to die. But you fell into his arms still alive and breathing and Eleven had killed Vecna and all you had were broken bones and a head injury from the pressure exerted by that monster. Steve didn't know it at the time, but you also had a brain injury, something strong enough to erase everything from the last three years. Everyithing about him. Your family, despite being aware of the situation, has decided not to tell you anything, to keep you away from them, from Steve.

 After all if it wasn't for them you wouldn't have been involved. Also Steve promised to protect you and he didn't. He had failed you , as he did with Robin.

Dustin has kept him alive, keeping him company in the months of solitude spent locked up in his house. Nance forced him to eat every day and Erica, Erica remained silent next to him for hours and that was enough at least for a while. Then, at a certain point, Steve saw you from the shop windows, you were working, smiling. 

And it wasn't enough anymore.

The sky is black, the streetlights barely lit up the street, yet you can understand more about Steve right now, looking at his face wrapped in half-light, than you ever guessed during these endless mornings. «Y/n» your colleague opens the door, investing you with warmth and light, so much so that you lower your eyelids.

"Sorry... I saw you out here. I just wanted to let you know that I'll come early tomorrow so you can go home early." You nod as the door closes. When you turn to Steve, you find him closer than when you last looked at him. You see his breath condense between you and join yours. Heat mingling with heat, and desire meeting desire. Steve nods at the BMW.

"I... I didn't mean to scare you, I just... I can take you home if you want." 

There is a fire inside you, even if you can't explain why. You should be scared of an unknown guy who comes to your workplace every morning and now silently approaches you to offer you a ride home on a dark winter afternoon, but the truth is that Steve makes you feel so many things and fear it's not one of them. You think that this is his car, that the car says so much about people, that you want to see what he keeps inside it, the objects that are important to him. There is probably his scent inside it. 

Steve smells good, clean.You know, you just don't know why.  "That is fine." 

"Steve, can I... Can I ask you a question?" You ask after a few steps in silence. He nods, keeps walking, his arm against yours looking for even the slightest contact. He needs it, or else he'll sink. He needs it to keep himself on his feet when dark comes and in the streets he sees the faces of his dead appear. When your bodies touch, over layers of fabric, you feel your skin melt and you wonder if maybe you're crazy. "Why me?"It's a strange question, you know, you're a little ashamed of it, and you're afraid of scaring him but you feel, somewhere inside you, that maybe he has the answer you were looking for, the missing piece in your story. Or maybe it's just an illusion. He turns around, his gaze softens and he observes you like the answer is the most obvious thing in the world. Because there is no other girl.

 He doesn't say it, he can't. He doesn't want to mess with you, he doesn't want to lose you again and scare you. 

"You know y/n, I've never met a waitress as good as you." 

You laugh, putting a hand over your mouth. "You're an easy guy to get Steve Harrington"

He opens his eyes wide and you don't realize it but is'shere, clear, limpid: Steve has never said his surname. You don't notice, not really. You keep walking beside him. "Thanks," you whisper as you let your arm slide, intertwining it with his. What would it be like to really feel his skin? 

Warm. Rough in the points furrowed by scars, soft in the rest of the body. To Feel the sensation of  naked flesh on your lips, the scent of laundry, the saltiness of his body, the pulse of the vein on his neck, where you place a kiss that isn't there, never was. It's a fantasy that looks a lot like a memory. It scares you. "Let's go." He exhorts you, with shyness and a touch of fear his hand moves to your back and your body is warm under his gaze. His breath is against his cheek, slips under the scarf, up to your neck."Yes" he says, holding his breath. It's cold, but not that much, not now, not for you. Not when you feel Steve's nose against your ear, not when he notices your twitch too. Steve closes his eyes, tries to refrain from telling you everything, from holding you tightly to him, it's so difficult now that he has you close again to resist, to keep a distance that hurts and he doesn't want. "Are you cold?" Steve asks  in a low voice, but for you this question is so much like the caress you've been craving since you became aware of his presence in the shop, since you met his gaze."Not at all'."

You feel Steve's smile on your cheek and you feel like you're. You just turn your head, just to give him the opportunity to reach your lips, but Steve doesn't kiss you, he's still with his eyes closed and who knows what he thinks of you, looking for a kiss from someone you don't even know

."You smell like coffee." The words are an incandescent breath on the mouth. His breath join yours,  you can feel the the taste of him – mint and aftershave – before you even smell it, like you've never tasted anything else in your life. 

"You don't like it?" Thrill after thrill, waiting to discover something about him that you don't know yet. Everything, you have to find out everything, but it seems to you that you have known him for a lifetime."I love coffee" You know he is lying. You just know. But you don't care. Just one question goes through your head and in order not to give it a voice you decide to shut your mouth in the best possible way at the moment. You shiver a little when your lips are close to him. You trace his cheek slowly with your lips, waiting for the moment when he pulls back and tells you you're crazy. You look for the right way to kiss him. 

"I don't usually do that. You must have something very special" You whisper against him. And Steve can't take it anymore, like a dam that breaks its banks, he pushes you completely against him, as if you were one. And then, finally, he finds his way. When he kisses you – slowly at first, giving your lips time to get to know each other; then devouring your every thought, as if nothing else exist but you – you find yourself repeating to yourself that you don't want to kiss anyone anymore. Touch no one anymore. Let anyone kiss and touch you except from Steve. 

"Steve" You murmur breathlessly, pulling away from him. "Would you think I'm crazy if I tell you something?"He shakes his head, his lips swollen and beautifully red. "Never"

"I knew you before, didn't I?" Now Steve Harrington no longer has the strength to lie.Steve Harrington has come to get his girl back and far off in the dark of night he swears he can see Robin Buckley smiling at him for it.

🙏

If you create a tag list for it can I please be added to it?

Glass Hearts~ S.H ft E.M

Summary : A year ago you told Eddie how you feel about him, he doesn't feel the same and now your ready to walk down the aisle to marry Steve Harrington.

Angst

He stared at you with an apologetic look on his face, swallowing the lump in his throat as his lips are in a thin line. The silence from him is ticking by the minute. Your heart is grasping at the little thought, the little hope and the little wonder that he felt the same way about you.

" I'm sorry, sweets. But I don't feel the same way that you do. You're my best friend and that's all I'll ever see you as" He says. A tear manages to run down your cheek as you nod, silently.

" That's okay" you say through your tears that keep running down your cheeks. Your voice sounds broken and your heart felt like someone cut a knife through it.

Eddie frowns as he looks at you. He feels bad that he can't return your feelings.

" I should go, my mom needs me home by dinner" you lie as you wipe away your tears with the back of your tears. Eddie nods because it's the only think he can think about of doing. You wrap your arm around yourself as you exit out of his trailer.

Eddie doesn't run after you and doesn't beg you to stay. You slowly approach your car and throw the driver side door open as you sit inside. With your hands in your lap, tears running down your cheeks and heart cracked in two, you start the car as it roars to life.

Eddie watches from the window of his trailer as you drive away after a few moments with a heavy sigh feeling like he lost his best friend that day.

You stared into the mirror at yourself standing in your wedding dress as you twirl around it. You felt the happiest you have ever been nearly minutes away from marrying the man that put your heart back together, the man you love and the man that you couldn't wait to start a life with.

A knock to the door interrupts your thoughts.

" Come in" you don't even turn around to see who it was as the doors open as Max wheels in with El by her side. Max's eyes go wide at the sight of you in your wedding dress.

El has tears in her eyes as she puts her hand over her mouth staring at you in awe.

" You're stunning" Max says as she wheels to be besides you. Her hair is down and she's wearing a dress to match the colors of the flowers you will be holding. " Pretty" El says as she takes a hold of the side of your wedding dress.

Your hands are folded together on top of your wedding dress as you continue to look at yourself in the mirror. You couldn't believe it that the day has come. You were going to marry Steve Harrington, your best friend and the man that stole your heart.

" What's wrong?" El says, " Do you not want to marry Steve?" she asks. You chuckled as you wiped your tears away.

" I do, he's perfect"

The door flies open and Robin steps in wearing a tux with Nancy by her side. She has your flowers in her hands. Steve had asked Robin to be his best man while El was your maid of honor. She has been like your little sister to you.

" Steve is going to drop as soon as he sees you" Robin says as she stares at you in awe.

" I'm so happy your the one that Steve is marrying" Nancy says giving you your flowers. You take them in your hands, " Me too. He's my happy ever after as much as cheesy as that sounds."

Meanwhile, Dustin, Mike and Lucas have rode on their bikes to Eddie's trailer. He was home as his van is parked out in the front. The music is loud coming from inside the trailer.

Eddie is laying on his bed with a cigarette in his mouth as he stares up at the ceiling. He remembers it like yesterday when you walked in with Steve trailing behind you, hand in hand and he never forgets the smile on your face when Steve tells the kids, and everyone else that you were his.

His heart clenches at the thought of when a year flies by and during one of the movie nights, Steve and you have a big announcement.

" Steve asked me to marry him!" you throw up your hand as you show the ring. He remembers Nancy, Robin, El, Max squeal as they all surrounded you to see the ring. Meanwhile Eddie slumped in his seat as he watched the happiness in your eyes and on Steve's face as the kids congratulate him.

" I'm happy for you, man" He says to Steve. Steve sees the look on Eddie's face and the glint in his eye. He doesn't say anything but Steve knows that Eddie feels like he lost.

" Eddie! Eddie!" his eyebrow scrunched together in one as he swings his legs over on his bed and stands up as he listens. There is banging on his door and his name behind called. He lowers the music to a minimum and listens. The banging increases, he mumbles underneath his breath and wonders who's at his door.

He opens the door seeing Dustin, Mike and Lucus.

" What do you want?" Eddie asks. He doesn't mean to be harsh ti them but he knows what day is today. Steve's and your wedding.

A pair of slacks, red button down is thrown at him with a black vest and he barley catches the items in his hands as he looks at the clothes in his hands to the little shrimps.

" What is this?" he asks. He already knows what this is but is playing dumb because there is no way he was going to go. He got your invitation from Robin who kept begging him to go, almost ripping his arm off but he refused. It hurt too much.

Over the year, Eddie has developed feelings for you. He had tried to push them aside no matter what. But it was the sound of your laughter, the way you smile, it took you some time to continue to be friends with him and he couldn't get you off his mind. His hugs lingered. His eyes lingered on you. He wrote a song about you. His heart raced around you. Yet, he lost you. To Steve Harrington.

" Get dressed, Eddie" Dustin says. The little shrimps were dressed for the wedding, Dustin had taken off his cap too.

" No" he says, walking back inside his trailer with them following him in. " Why not? Aren't you happy for her?" Lucus asks.

Eddie's back is turned to them as he closes his eyes.

" I am" he says throwing the clothes on the couch as if they were the most disturbing thing he has ever seen in his life. They burned his skin when he held them.

" Then why aren't you at the wedding?" Mike asks. Eddie's hands are in fist by his side as he shakes his head. " I have better thing to do" he says.

Dustin sigh as he looks at the other two, " He's in love with her."

Mike and Lucus share a look of disbelief.

" Then why aren't you stopping the wedding?" Mike asks. Eddie turns to look at him giving him a look of disbelief. " Are you crazy? She's marrying Steve. She loves Steve" Dustin says as he grabs onto Mike's shoulder and shakes him.

" But feeling don't go away that fast. She loved Eddie not a year ago" Lucas says.

" She did, now I've lost for her for good" Eddie says as he looks down at his hands. He twirls one of his ring fingers on his hands.

" You need to get her back" Dustin says. Eddie turns to him looking wide eyed not comprehending what Dustin is saying. " She's with Steve, I can't."

" Steve doesn't love her!" Dustin says as he flays his arms around before clasping a hand over his mouth like he wasn't suppose to say that.

" What?" the three asks him. Dustin gulps as he looks around the room. Eddie takes a step forward, " What do you know? Start talking, Henderson."

You were fixing your hair in the mirror when Hopper peaks, " Are you almost ready pumpkin?" He asks as he steps in and closes the door. Hopper wasn't your real dad but he was the father figure in your life after your father abounded you. He took you in as one of his own and adopted you.

" Almost" your hands shook as you played with the end of your hair. He walked over and sat besides you on the chair.

" Are you okay? Got the jitters?" He asks.

" Am I doing the right thing, dad?" you asked, looking down at your hands. " Pumpkin" he called you as he placed a hand on top of yours.

"Do you love him?" he asks talking about Steve.

" I do, he makes me the happiest"

" Do you picture having future with him?

" I do, there is no one I rather be with than him" you say.

" You have nothing to worry about then, pumpkin. The two of you love each other and he's a good boy that will take care of you. It took some time to warm up to him, but I believe he loves you and you two deserve each other."

" Thank you, dad" He leans down to kiss you on your cheeks. " I'll be right outside" he leaves you to your own thought as you look into the mirror at yourself.

Eddie is running up the stairs to the church as he throws the doors opened, panting as he looks up and down the corridor. Nancy happens to walk by and he takes a hold of her shoulders.

" Where is she? Where is Y/N?" he asks. Her eyes are wide as she takes in what he's wearing. She has never seen him like that.

" What are you doing here, Eddie?" she whispers as she looks down the hall. " She can't marry him, he doesn't love her. He still loves you" he tells her. Her eyes are wide as she takes a step back, grabbing at her necklace as she plays with it. Her eyes are teary as she tells him where you are.

" Thank you" he says as he rushes down the hall. Hopper spots him before he can get any further.

" Munson" Eddie stands before him with his hands up in the air.

" Sir" he start to say but Hopper shakes his head. " You better have a good reason to be here"

" Let him in, Hopper. Steve doesn't love her, he's been lying to your daughter. Eddie is the one who loves your daughter" Hopper looks over to Nancy then to Eddie.

He grumbles underneath his breath as he moves to the side. Eddie takes a few steps to the door as he stares at the brown large doors holding you inside.

His hand reaches out for the black door knob and pushes it open. You don't look at the person who enters the room as you take your flowers and take a deep breath. You turn around to face the person who walked in when your breath hitches locking eyes with him.

Eddie stand there with his hair pulled back in a low bun, his brown doe eyes are wide with his mouth a gap as he stares at you. He's wearing a red dress shirt, with the sleeves pulled to the elbows. He is wearing a black vest over it with black slacks. His chain is added to the slacks and he's in his Reeboks.

It screams even more prettier Eddie than you have ever seen.

" Eds?" you call out to him and he feels like his heart is about to jump out of his chest as he hears you call him. His face turns into a smile as he looks at you.

" You're absolutely beautiful" he says as he closes the door.

" What are you doing here?" you asked. He swallows the lump in his throat as his eyes turn to lock with yours. They are pleading and apologetic.

" He doesn't love you Y/N. You can't marry him.." he says. Your gaze turns dark as you glare at him, throwing your flowers to the ground.

"Why not? What makes you say that?" He takes a deep breathe and tells you what Dustin had told him. That Steve was only marrying you to try to get over Nancy, he was just using you to make Nancy jealous and that he didn't love you.

Your mouth goes in a thin line as silence takes over the room. You move back and collapse on the couch covering your face with your hands and your shoulders shake.

Your crying. Eddie makes his way over to you as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his chest. He lets you cry into his chest as he holds you.

" Steve doesn't love her!" Dustin says as he flays his arms around before clasping a hand over his mouth like he wasn't suppose to say that.

WHAT?? Someone please beat his ass. How dare Steve try to marry her just to try to get over Nancy?!

Someone please beat Eddie's ass too. But after he can kiss y/n.

Glass Hearts~ S.H ft E.M

Summary : A year ago you told Eddie how you feel about him, he doesn't feel the same and now your ready to walk down the aisle to marry Steve Harrington.

Angst

He stared at you with an apologetic look on his face, swallowing the lump in his throat as his lips are in a thin line. The silence from him is ticking by the minute. Your heart is grasping at the little thought, the little hope and the little wonder that he felt the same way about you.

" I'm sorry, sweets. But I don't feel the same way that you do. You're my best friend and that's all I'll ever see you as" He says. A tear manages to run down your cheek as you nod, silently.

" That's okay" you say through your tears that keep running down your cheeks. Your voice sounds broken and your heart felt like someone cut a knife through it.

Eddie frowns as he looks at you. He feels bad that he can't return your feelings.

" I should go, my mom needs me home by dinner" you lie as you wipe away your tears with the back of your tears. Eddie nods because it's the only think he can think about of doing. You wrap your arm around yourself as you exit out of his trailer.

Eddie doesn't run after you and doesn't beg you to stay. You slowly approach your car and throw the driver side door open as you sit inside. With your hands in your lap, tears running down your cheeks and heart cracked in two, you start the car as it roars to life.

Eddie watches from the window of his trailer as you drive away after a few moments with a heavy sigh feeling like he lost his best friend that day.

You stared into the mirror at yourself standing in your wedding dress as you twirl around it. You felt the happiest you have ever been nearly minutes away from marrying the man that put your heart back together, the man you love and the man that you couldn't wait to start a life with.

A knock to the door interrupts your thoughts.

" Come in" you don't even turn around to see who it was as the doors open as Max wheels in with El by her side. Max's eyes go wide at the sight of you in your wedding dress.

El has tears in her eyes as she puts her hand over her mouth staring at you in awe.

" You're stunning" Max says as she wheels to be besides you. Her hair is down and she's wearing a dress to match the colors of the flowers you will be holding. " Pretty" El says as she takes a hold of the side of your wedding dress.

Your hands are folded together on top of your wedding dress as you continue to look at yourself in the mirror. You couldn't believe it that the day has come. You were going to marry Steve Harrington, your best friend and the man that stole your heart.

" What's wrong?" El says, " Do you not want to marry Steve?" she asks. You chuckled as you wiped your tears away.

" I do, he's perfect"

The door flies open and Robin steps in wearing a tux with Nancy by her side. She has your flowers in her hands. Steve had asked Robin to be his best man while El was your maid of honor. She has been like your little sister to you.

" Steve is going to drop as soon as he sees you" Robin says as she stares at you in awe.

" I'm so happy your the one that Steve is marrying" Nancy says giving you your flowers. You take them in your hands, " Me too. He's my happy ever after as much as cheesy as that sounds."

Meanwhile, Dustin, Mike and Lucas have rode on their bikes to Eddie's trailer. He was home as his van is parked out in the front. The music is loud coming from inside the trailer.

Eddie is laying on his bed with a cigarette in his mouth as he stares up at the ceiling. He remembers it like yesterday when you walked in with Steve trailing behind you, hand in hand and he never forgets the smile on your face when Steve tells the kids, and everyone else that you were his.

His heart clenches at the thought of when a year flies by and during one of the movie nights, Steve and you have a big announcement.

" Steve asked me to marry him!" you throw up your hand as you show the ring. He remembers Nancy, Robin, El, Max squeal as they all surrounded you to see the ring. Meanwhile Eddie slumped in his seat as he watched the happiness in your eyes and on Steve's face as the kids congratulate him.

" I'm happy for you, man" He says to Steve. Steve sees the look on Eddie's face and the glint in his eye. He doesn't say anything but Steve knows that Eddie feels like he lost.

" Eddie! Eddie!" his eyebrow scrunched together in one as he swings his legs over on his bed and stands up as he listens. There is banging on his door and his name behind called. He lowers the music to a minimum and listens. The banging increases, he mumbles underneath his breath and wonders who's at his door.

He opens the door seeing Dustin, Mike and Lucus.

" What do you want?" Eddie asks. He doesn't mean to be harsh ti them but he knows what day is today. Steve's and your wedding.

A pair of slacks, red button down is thrown at him with a black vest and he barley catches the items in his hands as he looks at the clothes in his hands to the little shrimps.

" What is this?" he asks. He already knows what this is but is playing dumb because there is no way he was going to go. He got your invitation from Robin who kept begging him to go, almost ripping his arm off but he refused. It hurt too much.

Over the year, Eddie has developed feelings for you. He had tried to push them aside no matter what. But it was the sound of your laughter, the way you smile, it took you some time to continue to be friends with him and he couldn't get you off his mind. His hugs lingered. His eyes lingered on you. He wrote a song about you. His heart raced around you. Yet, he lost you. To Steve Harrington.

" Get dressed, Eddie" Dustin says. The little shrimps were dressed for the wedding, Dustin had taken off his cap too.

" No" he says, walking back inside his trailer with them following him in. " Why not? Aren't you happy for her?" Lucus asks.

Eddie's back is turned to them as he closes his eyes.

" I am" he says throwing the clothes on the couch as if they were the most disturbing thing he has ever seen in his life. They burned his skin when he held them.

" Then why aren't you at the wedding?" Mike asks. Eddie's hands are in fist by his side as he shakes his head. " I have better thing to do" he says.

Dustin sigh as he looks at the other two, " He's in love with her."

Mike and Lucus share a look of disbelief.

" Then why aren't you stopping the wedding?" Mike asks. Eddie turns to look at him giving him a look of disbelief. " Are you crazy? She's marrying Steve. She loves Steve" Dustin says as he grabs onto Mike's shoulder and shakes him.

" But feeling don't go away that fast. She loved Eddie not a year ago" Lucas says.

" She did, now I've lost for her for good" Eddie says as he looks down at his hands. He twirls one of his ring fingers on his hands.

" You need to get her back" Dustin says. Eddie turns to him looking wide eyed not comprehending what Dustin is saying. " She's with Steve, I can't."

" Steve doesn't love her!" Dustin says as he flays his arms around before clasping a hand over his mouth like he wasn't suppose to say that.

" What?" the three asks him. Dustin gulps as he looks around the room. Eddie takes a step forward, " What do you know? Start talking, Henderson."

You were fixing your hair in the mirror when Hopper peaks, " Are you almost ready pumpkin?" He asks as he steps in and closes the door. Hopper wasn't your real dad but he was the father figure in your life after your father abounded you. He took you in as one of his own and adopted you.

" Almost" your hands shook as you played with the end of your hair. He walked over and sat besides you on the chair.

" Are you okay? Got the jitters?" He asks.

" Am I doing the right thing, dad?" you asked, looking down at your hands. " Pumpkin" he called you as he placed a hand on top of yours.

"Do you love him?" he asks talking about Steve.

" I do, he makes me the happiest"

" Do you picture having future with him?

" I do, there is no one I rather be with than him" you say.

" You have nothing to worry about then, pumpkin. The two of you love each other and he's a good boy that will take care of you. It took some time to warm up to him, but I believe he loves you and you two deserve each other."

" Thank you, dad" He leans down to kiss you on your cheeks. " I'll be right outside" he leaves you to your own thought as you look into the mirror at yourself.

Eddie is running up the stairs to the church as he throws the doors opened, panting as he looks up and down the corridor. Nancy happens to walk by and he takes a hold of her shoulders.

" Where is she? Where is Y/N?" he asks. Her eyes are wide as she takes in what he's wearing. She has never seen him like that.

" What are you doing here, Eddie?" she whispers as she looks down the hall. " She can't marry him, he doesn't love her. He still loves you" he tells her. Her eyes are wide as she takes a step back, grabbing at her necklace as she plays with it. Her eyes are teary as she tells him where you are.

" Thank you" he says as he rushes down the hall. Hopper spots him before he can get any further.

" Munson" Eddie stands before him with his hands up in the air.

" Sir" he start to say but Hopper shakes his head. " You better have a good reason to be here"

" Let him in, Hopper. Steve doesn't love her, he's been lying to your daughter. Eddie is the one who loves your daughter" Hopper looks over to Nancy then to Eddie.

He grumbles underneath his breath as he moves to the side. Eddie takes a few steps to the door as he stares at the brown large doors holding you inside.

His hand reaches out for the black door knob and pushes it open. You don't look at the person who enters the room as you take your flowers and take a deep breath. You turn around to face the person who walked in when your breath hitches locking eyes with him.

Eddie stand there with his hair pulled back in a low bun, his brown doe eyes are wide with his mouth a gap as he stares at you. He's wearing a red dress shirt, with the sleeves pulled to the elbows. He is wearing a black vest over it with black slacks. His chain is added to the slacks and he's in his Reeboks.

It screams even more prettier Eddie than you have ever seen.

" Eds?" you call out to him and he feels like his heart is about to jump out of his chest as he hears you call him. His face turns into a smile as he looks at you.

" You're absolutely beautiful" he says as he closes the door.

" What are you doing here?" you asked. He swallows the lump in his throat as his eyes turn to lock with yours. They are pleading and apologetic.

" He doesn't love you Y/N. You can't marry him.." he says. Your gaze turns dark as you glare at him, throwing your flowers to the ground.

"Why not? What makes you say that?" He takes a deep breathe and tells you what Dustin had told him. That Steve was only marrying you to try to get over Nancy, he was just using you to make Nancy jealous and that he didn't love you.

Your mouth goes in a thin line as silence takes over the room. You move back and collapse on the couch covering your face with your hands and your shoulders shake.

Your crying. Eddie makes his way over to you as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his chest. He lets you cry into his chest as he holds you.

Ugh, I want my boyfriend to drive to see me so we can go home together 😫😫

Steve is the best! Loved the story. ❤️🥰

Make It Back for Christmas (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Make It Back for Christmas (Rated T)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 1.9k+

Warnings: Mild brief language, holiday fluff, pining Steve and Reader

Summary: It's the last week of the semester and you're dying to head back home to Hawkins for the holiday festivities. Not only that, but you haven't heard from your boyfriend in a week and you're already going through withdrawals. Will you be able to make it back in time for Christmas?

God, you hated finals week. 

This wasn’t like anything you experienced in your high school years. Or was it? Thanks to the last semester of all-nighters and unbelievable amounts of cram studying, the last four years all blended together. 

Three exams. You had three exams this week. Plus a term paper, a research project… one of your professors thought it would be fun to have an exam and a nine-page paper due the same week. Was it nine pages single-spaced or double? Hell if you knew. Your brain had already begun to hurt just thinking about everything you did to army-crawl your way through to break. Even though most of the hard work was done, you weren’t out of the clear yet— you still had a five hour drive home on Saturday and you hadn't packed yet. 

You just had to select a college five hours away. You hated being away from your home of small town Hawkins, Indiana. You missed your family, your friends. Some nights there was nothing you wanted more than to spend a few hours at the local arcade or the neighboring video store. 

The only thing that made everything seem a bit more bearable was your boyfriend. Usually, Steve would be the first one you would call and talk to after your latest exam or assignment, but you haven’t been able to reach him in days. The two of you had gotten together the summer before you left for college. It was a sweet summer romance story. You had known each other for years, practically growing up together. It was the typical cliche: two friends who had been skirting around their feelings throughout high school, mainly due to one garnering a reputation. 

Although, when you were with Steve, that’s all he was: Steve. Not overly cocky King Steve, not party keg master Steve; he was Steve Harrington, your best friend since preschool who always stole your peanut butter and jelly sandwiches because you hated them. The same Steve who would sit with you for hours in the backyard watching the clouds or the stars, listening to you talk about your superficial problems like they were an international threat of war. The Steve who was so terrified going out on his first date with Samantha Hollis in the sixth grade, he spent most of the morning excessively brushing his hair and gargling mouthwash in your bathroom while talking about his big first kiss plan — a conversation that later had your stomach turning and your dinner in the upstairs toilet. You hadn’t realized it at first, but you had fallen head over heels for your best friend. 

When you finally recognized and came to terms with your feelings for Steve in junior year, it had been too late. He had already started his “perfect” relationship with his dream girl: Nancy Wheeler. You had no malice toward the girl. In fact, you were both good friends. It was just hard to maintain that friendship when all the conversations ever gravitated toward was, well, your shared connection. 

“Steve and I were going to see that movie!”

“Oh, you’ll never believe what Steve said the other night.”

“Oh my god, isn’t he so clumsy? It’s adorable.”

Forced smiles and friendly nods became second nature for you. All you wanted was for Steve to be happy. If he was happy with Nancy, then you were happy for him. You had to admit they made an attractive couple. She was helping him in ways you never could, helping him succeed instead of just encouraging him to try and make a change. They were an unstoppable team. Steve didn’t need you anymore and you had to come to terms with it. You slowly began to distance yourself, just so you could sort through your feelings and not be awkward around them. It made things easier at first. 

Then Nancy broke his heart at Tina’s halloween bash. Suddenly you found yourself thrust back and immersed into Steve’s life once more. Only this time, you leaned into his touches a little more than usual. You two sat a bit too close at movie night. You split too many meals at the local diner. It was only when Dustin Henderson made a passing comment about how the two of you acted like an old married couple did you snap back to reality and attempt to distance yourself from Steve again. He didn’t need to lose the love of his life and another friend at the same time because you couldn’t keep your feelings in check. So you resorted to only hang around him with the kids when he needed to play carpool, taking them to the arcade, or the farmer’s market, or even the grocery store to pick up 

This only seemed to confuse your best friend. “Why aren’t you spending time with me?” he asked you when you brought El and Max to the mall over the summer. 

“What are you talking about?” you tried to appear nonchalant, like you weren’t doing this on purpose even if it killed you. Unfortunately, your poker face needed some much needed work. 

“No, no,” the look he gave you that day would haunt you forever. Steve looked like you had just kicked his puppy right in front of him. “Don’t bullshit me. You’ve been avoiding me all summer since we graduated. The only time I ever see you is with the kids and even then you spend more time with Dustin than me!”

It was true. After Dustin had oh-so-kindly exposed your emotions, you had somehow convinced the child to be your partner in distracting you from Steve. Well, it was less of a convincing and more of a “if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll lovingly end you” type of agreement. He stuck to you like Velcro when the three of you went out, making sure there were very few interactions that could lead into moments of longing. 

“It’s nothing, Steve,” you had tried explaining with no success. “Dustin just really wants my attention is all, I guess.” 

A frown on his face, Steve turned away mumbling something under his breath. You weren’t quite sure at the time, but it did sound oddly similar to, “he’s not the only one.”

It wasn’t until you found yourselves trapped in a Russian underground that you had to face more than one fear. Trapped in your own room, the soldiers tried to get you to admit how you found their base. They had even stabbed you with some type of drug, which you would only later discover its use. You couldn’t tell how long it was before you were released with the help of your best friend. Steve had looked so worse for wear, but even in the chaos, he was only concerned about your safety and well-being. 

“Are you okay?!” his slurred speech inquired as he ran hands up and down your arms before cradling your face. 

You weren’t sure if it was the stress or the inclusion of a truth serum in your system, but you did the only thing you could think of to answer his incessant questions: you leaned forward and kissed him. 

And he kissed you back. 

From that moment on, everything was different. You had gone from being best friends, to two people who went out to dinner, to being in an honest to goodness relationship. Just over a year later, you’re sat in your dorm room with a receiver broadcasting a busy signal in your ear. 

This was the sixth time this week Steve hadn’t answered the phone. He hadn’t called for his daily good morning or good nights. He didn’t call to check in on you during what he knew was going to be a stressful week. Concerned about his safety, you reached out to Dustin several times, who assured you that Steve was fine. He was just busy with all of the families renting out movies for the holidays. You knew you weren’t entitled to his time, but all the same…it had been a long week and all you wanted was to hear your boyfriend’s voice. 

Allowing a sigh to escape your lips, you dialed Steve’s number again, this time with the intent to leave a message. When the recording of his mother’s bored yet powerful voice played, you bit your lip to refrain from showing too much emotion over the phone. “Hey Steve,” you started. “It’s uh, it’s me calling…again. I just wanted to let you know that I, uh, that I miss you. Miss hearing your voice, seeing you. And I hope that you’re doing okay. Just a few more days until I can start my drive home and see you!” 

You let out a sad chuckle as there was a knock on your bedroom door. Your roommate, Allie, probably wanted to use the phone since you’d been hogging it for a few hours. “Oh, I gotta go. Call me back soon, okay? Love you.” As you hung up the phone, you moved to open the door. “Sorry, Allie. Just wanted to make sure-“

“Make sure I was doing okay?” A familiar voice cut you off and your breath caught in your throat.  You couldn’t believe it. Standing in front of you with rosy frost bitten cheeks, tired eyes, and the brightest smile you’ve ever seen was Steve. “I’d say I’m doing much better now that I’ve seen you, sweetheart.”

Without much thought, you ran into his arms and kissed him. And kissed him. And kissed him one more time, just for good measure. It was messy, all smiles and awkward breathing, but it was perfect. “What-“ you stuttered in surprise once you caught your breath. “What are you doing here? Why haven't you called?!”

Steve grinned sheepishly, head bent down to stare right in your gaze. A few strands of his perfectly unruly dark hair fell directly in his line of sight and you automatically moved your hand to brush it away. “I knew if I picked up the phone it would be really hard for me to keep my mouth shut. Did you really think I’d let my baby drive home alone for Christmas?” he said with mock disdain. “I don’t think that would make me a very good boyfriend, do you?”

“I have a car.”

“Yeah,” your boyfriend nodded in agreement, “but why waste gas if you’re not going to use it in Hawkins.” 

You frowned. What was he talking about? 

“Baby, you’re with the Harrington car service,” Steve’s smooth voice rolled over you like honey. “It’s door-to-door service, even during your trip.”

“….so you’re kidnapping me and not letting me drive my own car.” 

Steve gave a small huff, shoulders slouched. “Gee, when you put it like that…you really sucked the romance out of it, babe. You know I did just drive five hours-“

You silenced him with a gentle kiss to the lips. While not as rough or as passionate as the first reunion, it was just as loving. Your fingers curled around the soft fabric of his white Henley top and pulled him closer. He stumbled a bit from the action, but soon rested his hands on either of your hips, a low hum vibrating his throat. 

“I love you,” you whispered. 

The smile on Steve’s face stretched out to be a mile wide. “I love you, too, baby,” he replied, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “Now come on. Let’s get you all packed up.”

You laughed at his dramatic hand gestures before he crossed his way into your room. “Your chariot awaits, my dear,” he mused, turning his head to glance back at you over his shoulder. “It’s time to get you back home for Christmas.”

====================

Author's Note: So this is happening. Is everyone excited?! To say I've been looking forward to this event for the last month plus now. I just want to give a small shout-out and thank you to two very amazing people, @bakerstreethound (for encouraging me to keep writing) and @upsidedownwithsteve (for inspiring me to try my hand at this -- so sorry for the tag!).

Writing this and some of the other fics for this event have me convinced Steve would be the perfect boyfriend around the holidays, even if he may be a bit of Scrooge sometimes. The number of times I've smiled writing these pieces...I've lost count. But stay tuned because we have a lot more headed your way (including some dad!Steve...)!

If you liked this post and want to see more like it on my blog, please make sure to leave a comment and reblog it! While likes are appreciated, it's these two things that really help spread the word about my writing and motivate me to keep making new content! Until next time, my little sparks! <3

I did read this one a while ago and it's one of the best Sherlock fanfic I have read. One of my favorites too 😍🥰

𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞 — 𝐬.𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐦𝐞𝐬

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. sherlock holmes x fem!reader (requested)

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. a little bit angsty, fluff, mentions of violence and blood

𝖲𝖸𝖭𝖮𝖯𝖲𝖨𝖲. the reader is sherlock’s soulmate and has the ability to take her soulmate’s pain and heal his wounds. she’s been taking sherlock’s pain since the day she found out he was her soulmate, but there’s one problem: he doesn’t know. until the day she gets hurt.

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤. i’m so sorry it took me so long to write, but I truly hope you like it! i may have changed some small details while writing this fic, nothing major though. And i hope oididn’t misunderstand anything in your request. if so, i sincerely apologize, love! @tom-hlover

𝖫𝖤𝖭𝖦𝖳𝖧. 2.631 words

MASTERLIST

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Oh, I missed reading about Bucky.

Poor Bucky, he's lost. But that's okay, she got confidence enough for both of them. Loved the story. Super cute 🥺

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐬 — 𝐛.𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. bucky barnes x fem!reader

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. fluff, social anxiety, bucky being a nervous mess

SYNOPSIS. bucky falls head over heels for a girl at the market selling plums. after coming home, he tries to get any piece of advice on how to talk to a girl from his fellow teammates.

LENGTH. 1.940 words

MASTERLIST

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I'm obsessed with protective girlfriend who dates Kirishima. Absolutely the best! She is so badass. I dare you to say a single bad thing about Kirishima! Do it if you want to die.

Loved it! 😍

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 — 𝐞.𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. eijirou kirishima x fem!reader

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. fluff with a sprinkle of angst, mentions of broken bones and blood, reader is a badass and acts morally grey, because I got carried away <3

𝖲𝖸𝖭𝖮𝖯𝖲𝖨𝖲. a student from another class decided to insult kirishima, unaware of you standing right beside your boyfriend, ready to snap their neck at any given moment.

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤. listen, i just love that “i’m a literal sunshine and my partner is scary as fuck” trope and kirishima is just a sweetheart… spiky hair, spiky teeth and a heart of gold. i loved writing this and i hope you enjoy this fic! reblogs are appreciated as well 🖤

𝖫𝖤𝖭𝖦𝖳𝖧. 2.350 words

MASTERLIST

Continuar lendo

I think I'm in love with giggling Bakugou... Loved your writing 😍

✝ 𝖠𝖫𝖫 𝖨 𝖶𝖠𝖭𝖳 𝖥𝖮𝖱 𝖢𝖧𝖱𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖬𝖠𝖲 (𝖨𝖲 𝖸𝖮𝖴) — 𝖪.𝖡𝖠𝖪𝖴𝖦𝖮𝖴

i was in the mood to write something fitting for this season, even though i’m not really a fan of christmas. thank you @dilfteracy for reading this and supporting me with your amazing commentary.

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. katsuki bakugou x genderneutral!reader

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. fluff, language, mentions of alcohol, underage drinking (listen, it’s legal to drink at the age of 16 in germany)

𝖬𝖠𝖲𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳

I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need 

Bakugou scoffs into his cup of hot cocoa. He’s had about three of them now, spiked with a good amount of rum Mina managed to sneak past Aizawa’s observant eyes, but the alcohol has yet to unfold its effect to make the voice of Maria Carey somewhat bearable as she sings the lines to her infamous Christmas song for the fourth, no, fifth time that evening, warbling her high-pitched notes through the sound boxes Momo and Jirou placed in each corner of the common room for the party his class planned. 

To enjoy the last days of school together before everyone leaves to spend the holidays with their families, they had explained after he had nearly blown off the decorations a few days prior, bellowing at them why on earth they’d even want to throw a party as stupid as this one, but now, as he glowers over the rim of his mug, he’s convinced they set it up for the sole purpose of getting on his nerves. 

(and I) don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree

But despite his initial dislike of this party, he has to admit that his classmates did a decent job at capturing the festive spirit for this night — red and green ornament decorate the walls, colorful stockings that carry the names of his friends are filled with sweets and hang upon the fireplace and there’s a distinct smell of vanilla and cinnamon tickling his nose.

I don’t need to hang my stocking there upon the fireplace

Somewhere near the kitchen, Denki is fighting Sero over a batch of freshly baked cookies Sato brought, though their playful banter seems to be more to the amusement of his classmates who have gathered around them to watch their antics. With their red hats and equally ugly Christmas sweaters, they somehow resemble angry elves in Santa’s toy factory and despite trying to keep a stern face, Bakugou can’t help but crack a smile at his friends.

Yeah, they’re idiots, but at least everyone seems to have a good time.

Santa Claus won’t make me happy with a toy on Christmas Day

Between the cheers of his friends and the unwavering tootling of yet another Christmas carol, he can faintly hear your voice, laughing softly with someone. Instinctively, his eyes scan the crowded room to catch a glimpse of your face, but you’re neither standing among the group of students howling at Dunceface who has proceeded to throw cookies at Sero’s head nor does he find you talking to some of the girls sitting on the sofa and around the small table, happily reaching for the snacks as they chatter away.

“Were you looking for me?” You ask with a raised brow, pushing a plate of baked goods into his hand before you settle for a spot beside him, comfortably leaning against his shoulder. A smile creeps across your lips when he shrugs, suddenly far more interested in the pink marshmallows floating around his hot chocolate, though the treacherous blush that tints his cheeks and reaches the tips of his ears tells you that you caught him red-handed. “Hey, I’m talking to you, idiot. Are you enjoying the party?”

I just want you for my own

“Yeah, ‘s alright,” he mumbles softly. Blonde lashes flutter against his brow bone when he looks back at you, sharp gaze studying the curve of your nose, the space between your eyes and the smoothness of your cheeks, tracing each feature with a hint of secret admiration. A grin flickers across his lips, baring his teeth for just one second before it disappears behind his usual scowl and he slumps against your back, focuses on your body heavy and warm against his own — he likes it, the feeling of your shoulders touching and his fingers faintly grazing your hand as he stands there with you and suddenly Bakugou realizes he likes you. 

More than you could ever know

He actually likes you. 

Right, maybe he’s had too much of that stupid rum Mina mixed into that awfully sweet hot chocolate and a part of him is becoming aware of the blush that creeps up the back of his neck and seems to flush his entire face in embarrassing heat, but before he can stop himself, he’s fucking giggling. Tears prickle at the corners of his eyes as he tries to stifle the sounds behind his raised hand, clasped tightly over his mouth until he can’t take it anymore and drops his head on your shoulder, laughing quietly into your hair.

“What’s going on with you now?” You ask. There’s a teasing lilt to your voice that coaxes another fit of giggles out of him and you swear it’s the most beautiful sound you have ever heard. “Katsu, c’mon! What’s so funny?”

“I think I like you,” he wheezes, barking out a laugh. His hands find yours, fingers curl tightly around your wrists and then he’s sliding down the wall, pulling you with him to the floor where he gently knocks his head against yours. There’s a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth and you think you should be alarmed, because you’ve never seen him like this before or maybe you should take the empty cup out of his grasp and keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t get another sip of the spiked cocoa, but this is—

Make my wish come true

"You think?” You repeat quietly, full of hope.

“Yeah,” he mutters after a beat and turns his head. For a moment, neither of you dares to say more before he finally leans in to press his lips against yours in a clumsy kiss that faintly tastes like hot chocolate and rum and your heart punches your ribcage in excitement. “I like you, dumbass.”

All I want for Christmas is you

Not gonna lie, I'm a bit upset with y/n. C'mon, Steve drove to see y/n and y/n wouldn't leave her friends for one night? Okay, her life doesn't involve around Steve, but I think maybe she is being not a very good friend 😭😭

Why do I have a sentiment that I will cry in the next chapters?

timing's a bitch (s.h) - 2/5

n e w y e a r s '8 6

"if i just wanted someone to hold then really anyone would do, i close my eyes and really try not to turn them into you" no use i just do, hayley williams (x)

"if you have chemistry, you only need one other thing...timing. but timing is a bitch" - how i met your mother

a.k.a the four times that steve harrington chose the wrong moment and one time he got it right (series masterlist)

warnings: mentions of underage drinking (all characters are 18+ but this is set in america lol) & also very minor references to smut

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on this series!! also massive apologies for the delay, i had massive writers' block and work was wiping me out :') still, i hope you enjoy. only three more wrong moments to go. - jazz

Steve Harrington hadn’t expected to spend New Years’ Eve of 1986 in a nightclub in Manhattan. 

To be honest, he hadn’t even expected to be here. 

Neither had you. And you didn’t even know of his whereabouts yet.

He’d been…lonely, after Christmas. Actually, he’d been lonely since the moment you left. Steve had known Hawkins before you and he’d known Hawkins with you but he had never prepared himself for Hawkins without you. Even when you called everyday and wrote letters every other week, there was still a gaping, you-sized hole in his life. Pictures of you hung up around his room; Polaroids and photo booth strips that dated back to the late seventies; records you’d brought him and drawn him; the silly, dumb notes you used to pass to each other in class. It wasn’t until you left that Steve realised his entire life was basically a shrine to you. 

Christmas was great. Seeing you was great. It had been nothing but hugs and smiles and warmth for a week straight. The celebrations came and went and before he knew it, Steve was dropping you off the airport and hugging you goodbye. It stung a little less this time, know that he knew what to expect in the aftermath, but coming back to an empty house had killed him inside. 

So, Steve started driving. And he kept driving until he reached the night club that he knew you’d be at. Even though it took him twelve fucking hours and fifty goddamn bucks on the door because he wasn’t old enough to be in here and especially not to be drinking. It left him wondering how much you’d paid to get in. Probably not a lot - even back in Hawkins, most bouncers just let you in. Why wouldn’t they? Maybe you were a bit haywire and crazy around the edges but you were also beautiful. One look at your smile, and the way you flashed your eyes with a stupid joke? You could get in anywhere. Steve Harrington was convinced that you were insane enough to open any door in the world. And yet, you stayed at the Hideaway. Every other Friday, with him and a pint of whatever shitty beer they had going. Because even though you get into any club in town, Steve was limited to wherever the fuck Eddie Munson could sneak him in. You’d never been one to stray away from Steve’s side. 

So…yeah. Coming here had been unexpected and god, Steve hated clubbing. What was the point of a room of sweaty people and loud music? That was all he could think about as people thudded into him, one by one in time to a fucked up remix of a Queen song. He just needed to find you and then get the fuck out of here. He had nothing planned in terms of a speech, or even the faintest idea of what he was going to say. He just wanted to see you. That was all. 

“Hey, man! What where the fuck you’re going!”

A sharp elbow came into contact with Steve’s ribs, and he turned around to see you. There was a scowl on face, then a look of disbelief, and before he knew it, you’d almost tackled him to the ground in a hug. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Steve hit the ground with an oof, breaking your fall with his own body. “I just missed you.”

You grinned. “I missed you too. How did you even know where I’d be?”

“You mentioned this club a few times last week. Sorry for just turning up-”

“- never apologise,” you cut him off. Stumbling up, you shoved aside a few dancers and stuck out your hand to help him up. “I’m happy to see you.”

You pulled Steve into another hug, hands balling up into the back of his shirt as you did. Steve had always given the best hugs. For as long as you could remember, all your problems could be fixed with a hug from him. Bad grades, shitty boys, fights with your parents. They were all menial, but even now, after a few months in the big city, you were certain they could fix bigger ones too. 

“C’mon, Steve,” you took his hand in yours. “Let’s talk properly outside. Yelling over this music is gonna kill me.”

Keeping his hand in yours, you pulled Steve across the club and towards the smoking area on the other side. It was amazing, really, the way you could just shove people aside with your elbows and a glare. You’d put the fear of God and/or yourself into him multiple times, so Steve couldn’t be surprised. 

The smoking area wasn’t as busy as the rest of the club. There were a few stragglers standing around - some with tobacco, some smoking something a little stronger. On the other side, a drunk girl was throwing up. You didn’t seem phased at all. Maybe you came to places like this often. Even though Steve had never known you to enjoy big crowds or loud music. 

“So, what do you wanna do?” Steve asked. “I saw a couple pizza places down the road. Maybe we could grab some food and then watch the ball drop, if you have a television-”

“- what do you mean?” you frowned. “I was gonna stay here. There’ll be a massive countdown and drinks and all my friends are inside.”

“Seriously?” he scoffed (however unintentionally). “I didn’t know you liked clubbing.”

Your face fell. “Don’t be an ass, Steve. Y’know I hate when you’re an ass.”

“Sorry,” Steve murmured. “I guess I don’t know what you enjoy doing at college. I forget it’s a different scene to Hawkins.”

“Hey, you’re good,” you smiled. “I’m just glad you’re here, okay?”

“Me too,” he returned the gesture, before glancing around the place. “So, what do you do here? Just…drink and dance?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” you shrugged. “It definitely looks awful from the outside but I promise my friends are fun. They’ve heard all about you and I’m sure you’ll love them.”

Friends. He’d heard about all your new friends; Jessica and Amanda and Tiffany and Daniel and…there were too many to remember. Steve knew that he was still your best, best friend, but it was nice to see you flourishing. It was clear they all loved you from the way their faces lit up. They gave Steve a smile too, and a it’s so nice to meet you! or a I’ve heard so much about you! 

Still though, clubbing certainly wasn’t his thing. He hadn’t expected it to be your thing either, but from the way you were throwing back shots and dancing around with your new friends, it was clear that it was. You’d shoot him a smile every few minutes, or grab him for a silly dance. All attempts to make him feel included. It wasn’t your fault that Steve had so quickly gone from excitement in seeing you to feeling like he was a sore limb. No one was doing anything to make him feel like that. Nobody but him, of course. 

It wasn’t until you approached the bar just before midnight that Steve followed you.

“Hey!” you gave him a bright smile. “Are you having fun?”

“I’m not not having fun,” he grimaced, but took your hands in his. “Look, I’m really tired and I just drove twelve hours without stopping and I really want to spend time with you tomorrow, okay? So I think I’m gonna head tonight, if you’re okay with me breaking into your apartment and crashing in your bed.”

“Oh, yeah,” your face fell a little, but you still forced a smile. “No, I get it. Take my keys, yeah? It’s the apartment building with red front door on the corner of 5th and 73rd. Apartment 48. My room is the first on the left and-”

“- it’s okay, I’ll find it,” Steve cut you off. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and gave your hands one last squeeze. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, Steve Harrington.”

Even though Steve had only had two pints of Budlight, he hadn’t considered that his alcohol tolerance was basically on the fucking floor. So, no driving for him. Just an obscenely overpriced yellow cab to take him a few blocks west. The streets of Manhattan weren’t exactly confusing, and maybe it was just dumb luck that your key fit into the first red door he found. Four floors up and two more doors in and that luck continued, right until he found himself managing to stumble into what he hoped and prayed was your apartment. 

It was a cozy little place that you’d rented from one of your parents’ friends. He worked in real estate in the city and quite honestly, you’d thanked your lucky fucking stars when you heard the words subsidized and rent. Maybe it was a little bare, but you’d made it your own. Steve couldn’t help but smile to himself at all the pictures of him around the room. 

Your room was just as cozy. Maybe it was a little funny that Steve’s head hit the pillow just as the fireworks outside went off - then he felt a bit bad. Had he ditched you? Maybe. But he had driven twelve hours just to unintentionally surprise you and he deserved rest. Even if you hadn’t asked that of him, even less expected it of him. Maybe he was just a little disappointed that you hadn’t wanted to spend New Years Eve sat in a pizza place with him. That was what you had done the year before. 

He fell asleep easily, the traffic outside becoming white noise. It wasn’t until a couple hours later - just gone 3AM, according to the clock on your bedside table - that you came crashing and stumbling in. Steve was woken by the sound of your shoes hitting the floor with a thud, and then a little fuck! as you stumbled out of your clothes and into a big NYU t-shirt. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Steve suddenly sat up, barely catching you as you fell to the ground. “Why don’t you turn on the lights, genius?”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” you muttered. Were you mad? You seemed mad. 

“Hey,” he frowned. “What’s up?”

“Nothing-”

“- we both know what when you say nothing that it’s definitely not nothing,” he reminded you. “Are you gonna spit it out or am I gonna have to go through every single thing I did and said tonight before we find an answer?”

You scowled at him, knowing he was right. Steve didn’t have fifteen years of riding the fiery dragon that was your personality not to know how to humble you. 

“You said you missed me and that you came to see,” you muttered, folding your arms across your chest. 

“...and that’s why you’re mad?”

“No!” you snapped. “I’m mad because you stayed for like…all of five minutes and then left! You didn’t even try to talk to my friends or to even stay and then I had to spend the last two hours defending you whenever they pointed it out!”

“Pointed what out?!”

“That you left! That you barely spoke to them or to me-”

“- I’m sorry that clubbing isn’t my thing!” Steve cut you off, barely hiding his audible groan. “I left so you could have fun with your new friends, okay? I didn’t wanna kill the mood.”

“Steve,” you sighed. “You weren’t killing the mood. Why do you have to say things like that?”

“Because it’s true!” he huffed. “You have a life here and friends and…things have changed. And I think I’ve been left behind.”

“How?!” you demanded. “How have I left you behind?! Because I went clubbing for one fucking night instead of dropping my plans when you turned up out of the blue?!”

“Because you said that things wouldn’t change! And they have!”

“Of course things are going to change!” you yelled. “We’re growing up! I’m at college, you’re working full time! Life fucking changes, Steve!”

“What if it changes and you forget about me?”

“Oh my god,” you let out another groan. “Steve, my life does not revolve around you. I love you and you are my best friend but can’t you just appreciate what we have right now rather than worrying about what we might be?”

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but you kept going instead. 

“Maybe we won’t be friends in five years. Maybe we’ll be married with kids in ten or sharing a fucking grave in eighty but none of that matters if you just can’t appreciate what we are right now,” you continued. “Two people who love each other and-”

“- you think about us getting married?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You literally just said it.”

“It was hypothetical-”

“- but you still said it-”

“- I also said that we might not be friends! Do you wanna bet which one is more likely to happen at the rate you’re going?”

You gave him a light thump to the chest. Steve caught your hand as it collided with him, large fingers holding your wrist. Your breath caught in your throat as he did, gaze catching his. The tension in the room had already been thick but in that moment, you couldn’t have cut it with a knife. He kept his grip on your hand, both your chests heaving with anger and frustration and rage and-

The first time you had kissed, it had been gentle. Experimental and a little toothy and maybe hungry after years and years of unpent teenage horniness, but whatever tension had built in the last three months alone made all those years look like nothing. This was desperate and deep, hands all over the other. Steve kept his palms splayed on your back, then on your neck, then on your ass, each time gripping you so tight, clinging onto you as though you might slip away if he didn’t. 

You fell back on the bed, one hand tangled in his hair and the other gripping his shirt. It was hard to register when exactly he took it off. Actually, when yours came off too, for that matter. Steve Harrington, as it turned out, was a man who consumed all your fucking senses all the fucking time. Ergo, it was hard to think about anything other than him, or what his hands were doing, or that you were finally about to go all the way with your best friend of fifteen years. 

It sort of clicked in your mind at some point that you probably should have stopped. It also registered in his mind. Still, neither of you did anything about it. You’d come this far now and it was hard to stop. Any consequences would be tomorrow’s problem. 

Happy New Year. 

taglist: @yaskna @karasong @etherealforever234 @i-bitch-you-bitch @aphex2winn @raes-gay @handsupforamiracle @palmtreesx3 @lokiofasgard616 @notahappystan @we-out-here-simping @angel-jz @suniloli @mapleransom-blog @thexplosivegirl @lou-la-lou

Absolutely the cutest thing. I love the sentiment that comes with a recent relationship and you described it perfectly! 🥰❤️😍

Everything Has Changed

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!reader

Summary: Yesterday morning, your best friend, Steve, picked you up for work like always. This morning, Steve is picking you up for work again, but now he’s your boyfriend and everything has changed.

Inspiration: Everything Has Changed (Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran)

Word count: 2547

Warnings: One swear word

A/N: I planned to write a Peter Parker fic based on this song like 6 years ago but seasons change and fictional boyfriends come and go so here we are

Read on AO3 here!

There was nothing noticeably different to the untrained eye about the way you woke up. Your cheek was creased by your pillow as always, your eyelids still drooping slightly with sleep, your bed the same wooden frame and your pyjamas the same old shirt and shorts that they always were. The insistent beeping of your alarm clock was neither more nor less annoying than usual, the birds outside singing the same song that they had sung for years. 

And yet everything had changed.

As soon as your eyes opened to the sun pouring through the gap in your curtains, a giddy spark shot through you as you remembered what had happened eighteen hours previously. A smile spread across your face until your cheeks ached and you hugged your pillow as you replayed the conversation in your head: the conversation in which your best friend had told you he was in love with you.

Continuar lendo

One word: perfection!

What I Like About You – S.H

pairing: steve harrington x drummer!girlfriend (friends to lovers goodness)

warnings: one annoying dudebro, some curse words, other than that nothing.

an: i know i haven’t posted in a while so thank you for being patient with me while i got my shit together. i dedicate this to you💖 Enjoy and let me know if you liked it!!

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

“Hurry up! We’re going to miss it!” Robin calls over her shoulder as she dashes out of his parked car and towards the front door. “We probably did!”

“Wait up.” Steve says to no avail; Robin runs inside a second later, leaving him behind.

Stepping out of the car and locking the doors, Steve stuffs his hands inside his jacket pockets. Keith had them work until past 7 tonight, making them late to see Robin’s crush perform—she had a band that plays here every Friday according to Robin, sort of like Eddie’s but less metal, more Rock Pop. She’d begged Steve to drive her tonight, but had her hopes crushed when Keith didn’t let them leave an hour earlier. So here they are, one hour after showtime, and from what Steve can make out the band is still playing. The moment he steps through the door music floods his ears, and he takes notice of how packed the place is. There’s probably close to a hundred people at Annie’s 50 of which are gathered in front of the stage; Robin had stayed by the door waiting for him, or maybe just staring at the lead singer in awe. 

Continuar lendo

Soo good! Can't wait for the next chapters 😍😍😍😍

— when he stands up for you

Masterlist.

Ahh this is the first one from these little drabbles I’m posting! I really hope you enjoy these as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them💕

Warnings: none.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.3k.

Recruitment days were always a busy time in Dynamight’s agency. Most of the time Bakugou was lucky and could avoid doing the hiring and firing, his HR department more than happy to take care of the payroll. But looking for new sidekicks was important, and these were interviews that Bakugou wanted to deal with personally. He’d already spent the better part of a fortnight shortlisting candidates, Pro-Hero Red Riot had arrived into the agency to help him go through the shortlist. Although you were unsure whether he was more of a help or a hindrance, as the redhead would give you a bored smile whenever he’d escape to refill his coffee mug.

You’d never seen so many interviews scheduled, all appointments for the day postponed in favour of hiring a new sidekick. Smiling softly as you offered each new up and coming Hero a seat as they waited for their turn to impress the number two Dynamight.

You gave him a small smile each time you’d introduce a new interviewee, laying their file and information down in front of him so he could read through their history.

A few hours later you’d finally managed to work your way down the list of candidates to the last name- a young, cocksure hero with a strength quirk. The standout achievements on his resume was that he’d managed to get his hero license before everyone else in his class, saving a coach full of people from falling to their deaths by bending the girders on a bridge. On paper, he sounded pretty impressive. But face to face—

“Oi, how much longer is he gonna be? I got shit to do.” The man shouted from across the room.

You were sympathetic to him, he’d been waiting about fifteen minutes already and usually Bakugou had prompt timekeeping. But a last minute, unexpected call from Uravity had him delayed.

“He’ll be ready to see you soon, thank you for your patience.” You gave him a warm smile from behind your desk as you continued to type out an email to Red Riot’s agency.

“Why don’t you stop checking your Facebook for five minutes and go let him know I’m waiting.” He rolled his eyes.

“Mr Dynamight knows you’re here.” You clenched your jaw to stop yourself from giving a sarcastic retort.

Who the fuck did this guy think he was? You were already hoping that he wouldn’t get the position, already dreading the prospect of having to work alongside this man.

“If he knew I was here I’d be in there already,” He sighed, “So fucking incompetent.”

“Excuse me?” You were used to dealing with all sorts of irate people as Dynamight’s secretary, but you’d never experienced such attitude from a potential recruit.

“Is it too hard for you to understand, sweetheart?” The man scoffed, “Now hurry up and let him know I’m here.”

You were certain this was going to be the day you lost your job, a slew of angry words on the tip of your tongue as you tried to keep your disposition cheery. But you could feel the corners of your lips drooping down into a glare as you stood from your chair.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Your professionalism was slowly morphing into anger as you stood from your chair behind your desk, glaring at the ma n.

“What did you say?” Your head snapped towards the door to Dynamight’s office which was now wide open, your boss stepping out onto the floor as he’d cleverly heard the commotion.

“Dynamight, sir!” The man’s sneer quickly turned into a disingenuous smile as he made his way over to Bakugou in quick strides, reaching his hand out for him to shake, but Bakugou’s gaze remained focused directly into his eyes.

“Is that how you talk to my staff?”

“She wasn’t doing her job—” The young sidekick dropped his hand as he turned to glare at you, “She wouldn’t let you know I was waiting.”

“She,” Bakugou mimicked his tone, “Was doing her job perfectly. With that kind of attitude you’ll never make it as a hero.”

You felt your heart racing as you watched the scene in front of you, swelling with pride that Bakugou was defending you in front of his asshole as you couldn’t help but admire how pretty he looked when he was irate.

“Get out.” Bakugou spoke over the man who was currently talking about his work history, his patience already thin as he walked directly past him and made a beeline for your desk.

You’d never felt so glad that Bakugou was such an excellent judge of character, thankful that you wouldn’t have to deal with a man like that inside the agency each day.

“— I recently finished my work study with Fourth Kind.” He continued.

“One call and no one in this city will hire you,” Bakugou snarled.

The young man looked as though he might cry as his lower lip wobbled, frozen in place as Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest.

“I won’t repeat myself again,” He continued, “Get out.”

You felt vindicated as you watched the man leave, the once cocky persona reduced to nothing as the elevator doors dinged to close.

“Hey,” Bakugou rasped, “You good?”

“I’m okay,” You smiled, “Pretty used to assholes like him.”

“That don’t mean it’s right,” He continued, “Fuckin’ prick.”

“I mean, he was your last interview so at least on the plus side you’re done for the day.” You smiled.

“Let me grab us some coffee and you can help me pick someone.” Bakugou smiled back, already walking towards the machine at the end of the hall.

“I don’t think I’m qualified for that—“ You called out to him.

There was no way you could pick his new sidekick, especially if you picked an annoying one. You’d never hear the end of it.

“You saw the list of people.” Bakugou continued, “And you met them all today, same as me.”

“Well yeah, but—”

“So, it’s settled.” He grinned, checking his watch, “Shit, I didn’t even realise how late it was.”

“Yeah, it’s been a pretty long day.”

“Okay, so new plan.” Bakugou smiled, turning towards you as the coffee machine was still heating up, “Dinner at that little ramen place and you help me pick my new sidekick.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to ask Kiri- Red Riot?”

“I trust you.” He gave you a genuine smile.

The words had you melting beneath his gaze, crimson eyes locking with your own as you felt your knees begin to go weak. Trying to push your feelings for your boss to the back of your mind as you prayed the butterflies would stop fluttering against your ribcage.

“Okay, but you’re paying.” You grinned.

“As if I’d ever let you pay, sweetheart.” Bakugou smiled back.

If you’d been paying attention you would’ve noticed the way Bakugou stood a little closer to you that night as you walked side by side to the little hole in the wall ramen bar, he’d blame it on the brisk winter air if you asked, but it was really because he wanted to wrap an arm around you to shield you from the biting chill.

Loved this!

Not gonna lie, I'm in love with Chandler since the first time I watched FRIENDS and it's so sad that out there doesn't seem to exist many fanfics about him.

So, every single fanfic I find is like a gem and this one is one of the best ones that I have read. Loved your writing. Absolutely amazing! 🥰

𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒.

pairings ; chandler bing x female!reader

summary ; chandler goes to monica and rachel's apartment the day after his first date with y/n, only to hear she's on her way over.

warnings ; lots of chandler's pov within third perspective, includes the whole group, fluffy and scared chandler.

word count ; 2.8k

additional notes ; this came to me before a nap two days ago and i needed to write it so bad!

Waking up feeling refreshed was rare for Chandler Bing. Usually, he awoke to the sound of Joey’s snoring in the next room or his alarm clock ringing for work, rubbing his hardly-awake aching eyes and forcing a shirt over his frame to start his day.

Today was much different. Sure, it was a Sunday with no work, but he woke up feeling as happy as ever, a permanent smile upon his face and his heart feeling full while butterflies continue to invade his stomach. Still to dissipate after last night.

Y/n was the cause of this. One of his best friends, part of the group he considers family more-so than the parents he grew up with. One of his favourite people in his life and someone he was falling in love with, greatly.

It was only a few days before that Chandler braved himself enough to tell her, tell her how infatuated he was that it was almost scary to him. He had never felt like this with another person before. And last night Chandler had took her on a date, since she was quick to reply with her returned feelings, to Chandler’s shock.

Chandler remembers how tightly Y/n held his hand despite how clammy his palm must’ve been, or the light-hearted giggles whenever he pulled his collar from how tight it felt while stuttering over another sentence. Or how she smiled against his lips when he kissed her goodnight by her front door.

They were crossing a line, from friendship into something more, and while it was what Chandler wanted, he was still horrendously nervous when it came to it. He didn’t want to mess anything up between both of them and then affect the group.

But the feeling of Y/n’s lips against his proven far too addictive that Chandler was extra willing to try, desperate to feel her kiss again and form what they had into a special bond he hoped would last.

He didn’t have a great track record when it came to relationships, breaking up with each women whenever he got too scared of the commitment, and using any little flaw they had as the reason for bailing. Y/n was different, Chandler already knew her completely. Every flaw and indifference in her life, every quirk and hyper fixation. Each only made Chandler fall in love with her more.

And Chandler knew he would never treat Y/n like he has his previous girlfriends. God forbid he would ever be stupid enough to mess things up with her when she’s the best thing in his life. She makes him feel seen, laughs at all his jokes, helped him quit smoking and makes him never want to go back, loves all the movies he does, and cuddles with him, squished on the one chair after she’s had her heart broken.

No matter how bad Chandler was at comforting someone, unable to find the right words to help support, Y/n always went to him. Out of her six friends, it was always Chandler she went to for comfort. And he never understood it until now, how they were everything to one another.

Glancing at his alarm, Chandler’s eyes nearly pop when realising it’s reaching midday. He was usually an early bird, waking up before everyone else to get ready and start his working day and with the routine it meant most weekends he was still up early.

At least earlier than Joey.

Sure, he walked Y/n home last night just after midnight and then went a long walk himself before returning home, but waking up at midday was a stretch for Chandler. So, he’s quick to get out of bed and change.

Joey wasn’t even home, most likely at Monica and Rachel’s apartment having a late breakfast while Ross reads the newspaper and Phoebe chats in his ear, all likely to wonder why Chandler’s still to appear.

He pairs his beige trousers with a shirt and stripey sweater. Spending an extra few minutes on brushing his teeth and making sure his hair looked perfect in case Y/n dropped by Monica’s at any point. The smile on his face yet to falter.

The group turn to the front door when it slams, Monica refilling the coffee pot while Ross, Rachel, and Joey sit by the kitchen table with aimless chatter. Phoebe rustles with a card packet on the sofa.

They all observe as Chandler walks in with a slight spring in his step, one hand stuffed in his pocket with a grin upon his face while he speaks, “morning!” They all glance at each other, no joke or sarcastic tone as of yet, an unusual happiness radiating off him that they only guessed came from the date last night.

“Look who’s finally up,” Ross says, taking the last sip of his coffee mug and shaking his newspaper when it flops over. Joey nudges him before looking back to his friend, eyebrows wagging, “well, you did get back late last night.”

Chandler pulls a face at him, shaking his head disapprovingly before walking over to the counter by the door, pushing the key dish away before sitting atop it, facing them all as he speaks, “nothing like that happened.”

“You’re smile says otherwise,” Monica teases, from beside the kitchen window. Chandler looks to her before he falters to speak, unsure with where to start, “I just- Y/n was great, it was—” he splutters over himself.

“Good night?” Rachel asks. “Good night? It was the best night.” Chandler finally finds the words to express, taking it further as he thinks back to the best first date of his life, “she’s so great. We had dinner and she gave me her mushrooms because she knows I like them. We talked the entire night, right up until the restaurant was closing and we had be told to leave.”

They are all fond of the change in Chandler, it was unusual to see him so happy and upbeat, lacking in his sarcastic comments which could be tiring within each response. He lets out a chuckle as he thinks back to the night, the waiter coming over and pulling them out of their reverie for them to see they were the only customers left.

Y/n fought to split half the bill with him, leaning over to pry his credit card away from his hand while he uses his free one to usher hers away. Both of them laughing fondly while the waiter keeps a straight face, unamused by their antics and snatching the card from Chandler before they made their way out.

“I walked her home, and we ended up spending more time at her front door, just talking — I never knew two people could find so much to talk about — and then I kissed her goodnight,” a blush arises on Chandler’s cheek as he admits he kissed her and they all let out little ‘woo’s in response, Joey leaning back in his chair to pat his friend’s knee.

“Well, Y/n sounded just as excited on the phone.” Chandler’s expression dropped into shock, Monica turning back to the table to pour more coffee into each friends mugs, “want a cup, Chandler?” she asks but Chandler is too caught up in her previous comment.

“S-she called here?” asks Chandler, Monica’s eyes fleeting to the side, coffee pot frozen in her hand as she airily chuckles, confused, “yeah, she phones every morning, why?”. Chandler runs his hands over the top of his hair, right through the strands he perfected because even though he made sure they were perfect for Y/n to see, he didn’t process that he’ll have to see her the day after their date.

Chandler jumps from his spot to stand in front of her, hands on either of her shoulders, “what did she say?”. Monica tuts, the others chuckling at the old-Chandler returning, the awkward and weird version, “she said you were cute and that you kissed her.”

“That’s all?” Chandler asks and before he can feel relieved, Monica continues, “apart from that, she’s headed over.”

That’s what he was afraid of hearing. Of course she was coming over, she was just as close a friend to everyone as Chandler was. “Oh dear God,” Chandler moves away from his friend and covers his red-beat face with his hands, each of the girls look confused as they watch him go from loved-up and sappy to a nervous wreck in a matter of seconds.

“What did I miss?” Rachel asks, while Ross and Joey only smile awkwardly, “it’s the day after their date,” Joey begins but defensively Rachel continues before he can fully explain, “yeah, so?”.

Chandler pulls his hands away before landing on the back of the chair Joey’s sitting on, looking down at Rachel with a newfound fear in his eyes, “she’s my friend! my best friend, even! Normally the day after the date you don’t see the girl for a few days, especially not the day after.”

“Not unless they’ve slept over if you know—” before Joey can continue in his flirty manner, Chandler cuts in, “I gotta get outta here.” The girls ‘pshh’ in disbelief of the way he’s acting, overdramatic and a little bit rude.

Ross tries to level with him as Chandler turns around to leave, “suck it up, this is Y/n we’re talking about. If you’re the only one not here she’ll think something’s wrong.” Chandler’s still turning towards the door, maybe he’ll leave her a message once he’s back in his own apartment and say he’s sorry he missed her today. Maybe he’ll wait until she’s home later and then they can talk over the phone.

However, before the million thoughts can dissipate into one idea, the door is opening in front of him and in Y/n walks. Chandler has a hand over his mouth while his thoughts ran wild, but the moment she’s in sight, it drops like each worried thought.

She wears a long trench coat and pale coloured scarf to battle the cold New York winter weather, wide-leg trousers with boots peeking out the bottom and Chandler is simply swooning within that moment that he can’t think straight anymore.

He’s kissed this girl. He still can’t believe it.

Y/n’s eyes land on Chandler first and she gives him a warm smile before greeting everyone else, who replies lightly but way too focused on watching the pair interact. She unravels her scarf before shrugging off her coat to place on the hooks by the door, if it were any other day Chandler would’ve helped her, but his feet were glued to the floor.

She looks back to Chandler, entirely delicate and earnest as she walks over. Her hand gently ghosts over his hip while whispering a soft, “hey, Chandler.” Leaning up, she places a kiss to his cheek before moving away from him.

Chandler’s frozen, hand reaching up so his fingers touch the spot she just kissed before turning to the rest of his friend’s once again. Y/n sat by Phoebe, quietly enquiring the girl of her cards who pulls her curious expression away from Chandler to amuse Y/n instead.

The others watch Chandler from behind Y/n’s spot, Joey nodding encouragingly towards the girl while Monica interjects from leaning against the counter, feeling some tension across the room, “coffee, Y/n?”.

“Coffee would be great, thank you, Mon,” Y/n speaks up in her oh-so-sweet voice that makes Chandler think he could melt into a puddle of sappiness and pure love. Compared to the chattiness from them both last night to the quiet on this noon, Chandler knows it’s only because he has to get used to it.

Y/n and him.

Not that he didn’t want that, he had been thinking about Y/n and him for God-knows how long, Chandler had never wanted a relationship as badly as he wanted one with Y/n. But they were friends, and he had never dated a friend before, and it was terrifying to him as much as he loved the idea.

What are they right now? Still just friends? Friends that date? or just dating but happen to be best friends?

It seems anytime Y/n makes eye contact with him that his worrying stops seize so he can focus on how amazing she is. Since his second wave of worries fall the moment she turns to look at him again, that kind smile addicting.

Joey stands from his spot, the lovesick gazes from one another tiring since he knows Chandler is a wimp to do anything about it. He stands behind Chandler, a hand on either of his shoulders before pushing his friend towards the couch, ushering him while the others silently gesture to Y/n so Chandler can make a move.

He clears his throat awkwardly, the sweater added with the situation making Chandler feel overheated when he looks to them all scared before sitting down beside Y/n. He tries to look casual, leaning back on the seat and his arm leaning against the back of the sofa, the space behind Y/n.

Y/n continues to look up at him, his awkward stance somehow not scaring her away as Chandler would expect. Instead, she moves slightly from Phoebe’s side and into Chandler’s, thigh brushing his and her shoulder tucking under his underarm.

There go the butterflies over Chandler’s stomach again at the feeling of Y/n so close to him.

Finally finding the words to speak, Chandler clears his throat again before asking, “hey, uh- did you, uh- sleep well last night?. The gang roll their eyes from behind Y/n’s head at the question, Phoebe looking at Chandler in sympathy before standing from her spot to leave them alone on the sofa.

Before Chandler can curse himself for sounding weird, Y/n’s giggling at how nervous he seems, finding his attitude so cute and so very Chandler. “I slept great, thank you,” her eyes never fail to pull from his, addicting, as her giggle lowers, “did you get home okay?”.

God, she’s so pretty. Chandler thinks before mustering up an answer.

He scratches the tiny stubble upon his jaw, a quirk Y/n had took notice of him doing when he’s nervous and awkward, “yeah, fine, fine,” Chandler replies and his eyes crinkle when he smiles so sweetly, Y/n’s expression matching, “good.”

They can feel their friends eyes on them, so intense that Y/n can’t help but giggle again as she breaks the ice by holding her hand to his jaw gently before quickly leaning in to peck his lips. It’s small and finishes as quick as it happens, Chandler trying to lean towards her after she pulls away.

His mouth agapes, eyes wide and surprised that Y/n was that bold to do it in front of the gang, but more than happy she did. Y/n’s hand then trails from his jaw to the shoulder of his arm rested behind her, fingers poking the sweater material endearingly while Chandler watches.

“You’re awfully tense. Are you okay?” Y/n asks and Chandler is practically swooning at her feet from the affection she’s delivering him, her hand flat and rubbing his arm so lovingly that he wants to bury his head against her neck and keep her as close as he possibly can.

His cheeks are red and mind feels hazy and light, the worries from earlier long gone and feeling less awkward from the moment her lips pecked his, the muscles beneath her touch relaxing. “Yeah, y’know, just went home and lifted some weights last night,” Chandler’s smile grows when Y/n laughs at his sarcasm.

That was the Chandler she knew, and the Chandler she was gravely in love with.

“Is that your post-date routine?” Y/n asks and Chandler outwardly laughs while leaning further into her touch, his friends watching him fall back into the sappy nature he was at first. “Nah, my post-date routine consists of a pit of worrying if I did something wrong and thinking of how pretty you looked in that dress while Joey’s snores keep me up.”

With that Y/n giggles even more, face close to his when she replies, “well, you better get used to that.” Chandler’s nose nudges Y/n’s before he tilts to the side, “more than happy to,” he says under his breath before their lips connect in a longer, more tender kiss than before.

“Alright, alright, get a room, you guys,” they pull away at the sound of Joey’s voice while Monica and Rachel lean over to smack his arm. Chandler looking up while Y/n digs her head into his neck, Chandler forgetting how awkward he was before as he only pulls her comfortingly into his side.

He will definitely get used to this.

⤸

taglist form . the library . chandler bing masterlist

taglist in reblog <3 please remember to support content creators and reblog.

The cuuuutest thing!!

dead wrong — steve harrington x reader

summary: steve harrington is down horrendous for you, his best friend since he was a scrawny pre-teen. turns out, his love is not as unrequited as he thinks.

contains: best friends to lovers, mutual pining (but mostly steve pining), steve’s pov, fluff galore, idiots in love, reader is good with the kids, reader is a skater like max, reader hurts her wrist and steve is a worried lovesick idiot. cw! descriptions of wounds/blood, mentions of hospital, reader wears steve’s clothes. she/her pronouns used.

a/n: first long fic yay!! I am extremely proud of this so pls love it 🤍

fem!reader 5.3k words

gif by @barneswayne

Steve Harrington is totally, most definitely, not in love with you. Just friends, he thinks, best friends. Best friends who hold hands and sit far too close together.

Speaking of, you push further into Steve’s side, your scent washing over him. Your hand squeezes Steve’s, and he thinks, never mind. Maybe he is in love with you. So in love with you it fucking hurts.

A chorus of shouts erupts around him. You and Steve are watching Eddie, Robin and the kids play beer bong, only without the beer. It’s soda. Dustin starts doing a stupid victory dance while half of his peers laugh and the others cringe. Steve cringes. You laugh. All high and lilting and adorable. Steve has to remind himself to breathe.

He brings your joint hands to rest on his knee. Your rings push into his skin, almost like harsh reminders that he can’t hold you like he wants to. He frowns.

“Steve?” Your voice brings Steve out of his thoughts like it always does. You give his hand a shake. “You okay?”

Steve looks up and prays you can’t see the hopeless devotion in his eyes. You’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, with your messy hair and your eyes lined with glitter. Rosy cheeks, glossy pink lips that he stares a beat too long at. He’s known you for years, and yet he’s never gonna get used to how gorgeous you are. He swallows, forces his eyes up to yours.

“I’m okay,” he says, though he’s really not. He never is, because you never won’t look like that. “Are you?”

There’s another explosion of noise from the soda-pong players, but you don’t seem to notice. You frown like you don’t believe him. He’s being too obvious, he knows.

“Yeah, I’m good. Are you sure, Steve?” You stretch your free hand across your torso to touch his face. Steve heats like an oven under your hand as you press your palm to his forehead. “You’re not feeling sick, are you? You feel sort of hot.”

Steve grabs your wrist, harder than he means to. He loosens his grip guiltily when you give him an alarmed look.

“Sorry,” he says quickly, lowering your hand gently. He can feel your pulse, only just, underneath his fingers. It’s damn sure slower than his. “I— uh, no. I’m not feeling unwell. It is pretty hot in here though.”

A total lie. The only reason he’s burning up is you.

Your frown deepens, a push of your bottom lip that makes Steve want to kiss you. It’s such an overwhelming feeling that he has to blink multiple times to make it go away.

“Oh,” you say. You look around the room and then back at Steve. “Do you want to go outside?”

Steve has a bit of a dilemma. If he says yes, he’ll be alone with you. He can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing. If he says no, he’ll have to stay in this stuffy room with yelling teenagers and ping pong balls flying at him every five seconds. He decides on the first option.

“Sure,” he says as nonchalantly as he can. Then, to make you laugh, “Smells like boy in here anyway.”

You giggle. Steve feels like copying Dustin’s lame victory dance.

“You’re a boy, Stevie,” you say teasingly.

He wrinkles his nose at you. “No, I know, but it’s like … adolescent boy.”

You laugh loud, your mouth pulled up in a staggering smile. “Oh, okay,” you say, as if anything he just said made any sense.

Steve is starstruck for a second before you’re pulling him up from his seat, your hand in his a familiar, heart-aching weight.

Steve finds himself sitting side by side with you on the hood of his car. He can’t exactly remember how he got here — on the way, all he could think about was your hand in his and the fact that your thumb kept brushing over his knuckles in very distinct lines. Whether you’d meant to or not, he doesn’t know. He hopes you did.

“Any better?” You ask quietly, stretching your pinky across the small gap between your hands to tap his.

Steve feels something like an electric shock where your skin touches his. It baffles him, how such a tiny touch can cause such a big reaction throughout his body. He stares at your hand when he answers.

“Much,” he says honestly. He looks up at you. “You didn’t have to come with me, you know. You can go back in if you want.”

Secretly he hopes you’ll stay here with him forever. But that would be selfish, and if Steve is anything when he’s with you, it’s not selfish.

“Eurgh, no.” You pull a disgusted sort of face that makes Steve grin. “I could barely stand it when you were there. Without you, I think I’d die from the smell alone.”

Steve laughs. Really laughs. The words without you, I think I’d die, float around his brain like fish in a fish tank. When he’s done laughing he catches your smile, all pretty and wide, and his heart does one of those funny backflips that he’s never gonna get used to.

Steve watches as you brace your hands on the edge of the car and push yourself up the hood, pulling your shoes up to rest on the metal. Your skirt is short enough that Steve can see half of your thighs, more when you shift yourself like that. He stares for two seconds too long and then feels so guilty he almost apologises.

Instead, he says, “Aren’t you cold?” He points at your skirt but doesn’t look.

You shrug. “No, not really.”

With a sigh you let yourself fall back against the hood of the car. Your skirt rises even more and a half inch more of your skin is exposed — Steve feels like the universe is out to get him. His only escape is to fall back next to you, his right shoulder brushing your left one. You smile when he does, head rolling to the side to look at him. Face to face now, Steve can feel every small breath coming from your parted lips.

“See any stars?” He blurts, because your face is much too close and he’s scared if you look at him like that any longer, he’ll kiss you stupid.

You look up at the dark, empty sky and wrinkle your nose. “No.”

“Wait, look, there’s one.” Steve lifts his arm to point at what he thinks is a star.

You squint in its direction. “That’s a plane.”

“What? No it’s— oh.” He trails off when he realises the ‘star’ is moving. It disappears behind a cloud a second later.

You laugh, breathless and pretty, and drop your head onto Steve’s shoulder. Your perfume fills the air around Steve and he has to stop himself from leaning closer. You bring a hand up to fiddle with your necklace, a cheap, plastic ‘S’ charm that sits directly on your sternum. The fake diamonds are falling off, half of them gone already, but you’ve refused to take it off after all these years. Steve has one of your initial, too. You got them from a dollar store when you were twelve and pinky promised to be best friends forever.

You slip your necklace safely beneath your top and then stifle a yawn behind your hand.

Steve gives your elbow a nudge. “Tired?”

You shrug one shoulder and then droop further into Steve’s side. Every point of contact between you burns.

“You’re tired,” Steve says matter-of-factly.

You make a noise that’s probably meant to be a sound of protest but comes out more like a tired moan. Steve chuckles lightly, reaches over and rubs your arm.

“Alright, sweet girl. Let’s go home.”

‘Home’ really means Steve’s house, because you’ve left your car there and because you’re over so much it’s become your second home. By the time Steve is pulling up the driveway, you’re so dead beat he doesn’t even consider letting you drive yourself home. You practically hang off his waist as he walks you both inside.

“M’tired,” you mumble as you pass the living room.

Steve has to bite back a laugh. “Uh-huh, I can tell.”

You look up at him and squint like you know he’s laughing at you. Then you say, “Can I sleep in your bed?”

Steve’s heart skips. Sure, you’ve slept in his bed before, but every time you have Steve lay awake for at least half the night. He’s not above admitting that he’s watched you sleep more than once. He’s seconds away from telling you to take the guest bedroom when you pout dramatically.

“Please? You’re so warm.” You push into his side, your arm tightening around his waist like you don’t ever want to let go.

Steve hates himself for nodding, but he can’t help it. “Yeah, okay.”

He drags you up the stairs and into his room. Your makeup and stray jewellery is strewn across his dresser — you’d gotten ready at Steve’s before the party. If you could even call it that, Steve thinks. He plants you on his bed and you fall back immediately, eyes shut tight as your hair splays across the sheets.

“You’re like a zombie,” Steve says amusedly, his gaze all fond and mushy as he looks down at you. “From like, Day of the Dead or something.”

You pull a face, faux offended but your big grin gives you away. “Ew. I’m not that ugly, am I?”

Steve hums long and high like he’s thinking about it. This makes you gasp and throw a hand to your chest like he’s wounded you. Before Steve can get half a laugh out a pillow is hitting him straight across the face.

“Hey!” He exclaims, glaring at you. You’re still lying down, eyes screwed tight like you’re pretending you didn’t just brutally attack Steve. He laughs because you’re fucking adorable. “Zombies don’t throw pillows, Y/N.”

Your words are plagued by a yawn as you say, “This one does.”

Steve sighs at your antics, picks up your murder weapon (his pillow) and replaces it on the bed.

“Oh no,” you groan suddenly, like you’ve remembered something awful, hands flying to your face in despair. “My makeup, Stevie. M’too tired to take it off.”

Your words stick to each other like taffy in your tired state. Steve remembers the last time he let you sleep in your makeup. He didn’t hear the end of it for days. He’d rather avoid your wrath this time round.

Steve sighs, knowing full well he’s about to put his foot in it. “Well, will you let me do it?”

You open one eye blearily and look at him. “Would you?”

Steve shrugs, though the thought of being that close to you makes him feel nauseous. Luckily, you’ve closed both eyes again so he can blush all he wants. Plus, he’d do anything for you. Even endure the overwhelming urge to kiss you breathless.

“Sure thing, babe. I’ll get the stuff.”

Steve ends up sitting on his bed with you across from him, crossed legs pressing up against his. You’re sitting so close you’re almost in his lap. He ignores this for the sake of his dignity.

You’ve got your eyes shut and your hair up in a clip. A lock of hair has tumbled out of its knot and Steve pushes it away from your face, fingers hooking behind your ear and lingering. He keeps his hand on your jaw as he raises his other hand, a wet cloth ready to clean your sparkly makeup off.

“You sure about this?” He asks hesitantly. He’s dead terrified he’ll do something wrong, like get glitter in your eye.

You smile softly, your eyes staying firmly shut. “Yes, Steve, it’s fine.” Your tone is half reassuring and half exasperated.

Steve bites the bullet and goes right in, pressing the wet cloth to your cheekbones first. You’ve got blush and glitter there, sprinkled on your cheeks like fairy dust. He smooths the cloth along your skin and it comes away sparkly and pink.

“Okay?” He asks, pausing worriedly.

You nod slowly, your head starting to droop in his hand. “Yeah, Steve.”

Steve grins fondly at your face, screwed up in exhaustion. He tightens his grip on your jaw to keep your head steady, thumb hooked under your chin. Carefully, he begins to dab at your eyelids, also painted with silvery glittery eyeshadow.

Your face dewy and makeup-free, Steve thinks you’ve never looked prettier. So pretty it drives him mad. He stares, really stares, for far too long but he’s worried if he opens his mouth, breaks the silence, he’ll never get to see you like this again. Your hair all messy pretty, your eyes shut and eyelashes kissing, your pink lips turned in a half smile.

He’s not surprised when your soft voice drifts into his thoughts.

“You done?” You open your eyes, eyelids heavy and head heavier.

Steve snaps out of it. He lets go of your face quickly, slides off the bed even quicker.

“All done,” he says, almost tripping over his own feet.

You smile, seemingly oblivious to his clumsiness. Or maybe, it’s just happened so often that you’re not surprised. Either way, your smile is sickeningly sweet. Steve is torn between the desire to kiss you or run as far away as possible from you.

Your voice matches your honey-smile when you say, “Thank you, Stevie.”

You reach out to touch his forearm, your hand a heavy weight on his skin as you wrap your fingers around his arm and squeeze.

He grins lopsidedly, and he’s sure he looks like a lovesick idiot but he can’t find it in himself to care. “You’re welcome.”

You drop your hand and Steve’s arm suddenly feels cold as ice. He wants to touch you again but knows he shouldn’t. He strides to his bedroom door and pauses to turn and look at you.

“I’m gonna get you a glass of water,” he says. Your eyelids are drooping again. He laughs fondly. “Get in bed while I’m gone, zombie-girl.”

Your giggle follows him all the way to the kitchen.

When Steve gets back, a glass of water in each hand, you’re still as a statue on your self-appointed side of the bed. You’ve swapped your outfit for a grey t-shirt that you totally stole from him but deny every time he asks about it, and the shortest shorts known to mankind.

He switches off the light and shuts the door with his heel. Pointedly avoiding looking at your bare legs, he rounds the bed and sets the water down, then bends over you.

“Y/N?” He whispers.

You hum softly, though Steve can’t tell if it’s a hum of acknowledgement or just a sound you’ve made in your sleep. He leans closer, listening to your breathing. You’re awake, only just.

He brushes his hand over your upper arm, touch as light as a feather. He thinks he feels goosebumps on your skin but doesn’t have time to wonder why. You’re lifting your chin slightly, lips parted.

“Goodnight, Stevie,” you whisper, so quiet he barely hears you. Steve’s heart swells. “Thanks for … everything.”

A few moments later you fall silent and your breathing grows steady, and Steve wonders how the hell you always fall asleep so fast.

He rubs your arm, kisses your forehead because he knows you won’t remember this part. His lips buzz as he pulls away. “Goodnight, sweet thing.”

-

You’re outside Family Video. Steve emerges from the back room and spots you so fast it’s like he’s got a third eye. He’s both shocked and pleased — he hadn’t expected to see you until after his shift.

You’ve got the kids with you. You and Max are zooming around the carpark on your skateboards while Dustin and Lucas are poised on the hood of your car, poring over comics.

He watches you skate with Max. Like some lame rom-com cliche, your hair is blowing in the wind and Steve swears you’ve moving in slow motion. You’re laughing and joking with Max and Steve stares and stares. Stares until Robin sidles up next to him.

“What’re you— oh.” Steve can hear the smirk in her voice even though he refuses to look at her. “What’re they doing here?”

Steve shrugs and makes an ‘I don’t know’ sound, moving to the counter to put down the box of videos he’s carrying. Robin follows.

“You’re not gonna go say hi to Y/N?” Robin asks slyly. Steve can hear in her voice what’s coming. “You’ve been staring long enough.”

Steve blushes furiously despite himself. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Oh, sure.” Robin hoists herself onto the counter, peers into the box of videos and picks one out at random. “Just like you weren’t holding her hand on Tuesday night?”

Steve can’t exactly get himself out of that one. He snatches the video from Robin with an annoyed tsk, slotting it back into the box. Her laugh is devilish.

“You are hopeless, Steven,” she says, whacking Steve over the head as she hops off the counter.

Steve rubs his head and glares at Robin. If looks could kill she’d be dead meat. “That’s not my name.”

Robin gets this look on her face that Steve knows all too well. He wants to pummel her before she’s even said anything.

“Oh, sorry,” she says, all sarcasm. “What is it, then? Stevie?”

Steve’s blood boils. Only you’re allowed to call him that.

“Y’know what, Robin?” He says loudly. He turns on his coworker, seething. She’s totally nonchalant, a stupid smirk on her lips. “Why don’t you just leave me—?”

“Steve!”

A shout of his name from the door. He turns and finds Lucas standing there, looking panicked.

Steve’s brow furrows. Then he notices you and Max are no longer whizzing around the carpark. “What—“

“Y/N fell,” Lucas says, out of breath. “We think she hurt her wrist.”

Steve’s heart drops. “Shit.”

He goes flying out the door and into the parking lot. You’re sitting on the concrete, one knee pulled up to your chest, your skateboard dormant next to you. Max is kneeling over you, and Dustin has graciously abandoned his comics for your sake.

“Y/N!” He damn near shouts. He runs over to you and Max and gets on his knees. He’s probably just ruined his jeans on the concrete — he doesn’t give a single fuck.

“Y/N,” he says frantically, a tentative hand landing on your shoulder. Both your knees are scraped something awful and a nasty gash blooms on the outside of your wrist. Steve’s worry is loud and his heartbeat twice as much. “Y/N, are you okay? What happened? What’s—“

You look up. Your eyes are shining but you’ve got a dopey smile on your lips.

“Steve,” you say breathlessly. You blink and a tear falls from your eye and over the bump of your cheek. “Hi. Good to see you.”

Steve stares at you in horror. How can you be making jokes at a time like this? You laugh wetly and Steve looks at Max, totally alarmed.

“What happened?” He demands.

Max is much calmer than he is. “She went over a bump or something,” she says. She’s rubbing your back and Steve feels a rush of gratitude for the younger girl. “Fell on her left arm. Her wrist might be sprained or broken, but—“

“Broken?” Steve repeats. He’s pretty sure his soul just left his body.

“I said might,” Max says through her teeth.

“Y/N?” Steve slides his arm around your shoulder, carefully avoiding your left wrist, which you're cradling in your uninjured hand. “Y/N, baby, can you get up?”

You make a noise like a scoff but it’s muffled by your sniffly nose. “‘Course I can.”

Steve helps you anyway, Max on your other side keeping a firm hold on your jacket. You hiss as you straighten your legs, knee-wounds sprouting fresh blood. Steve bites down on his lips so hard he almost bleeds himself.

“Are you gonna take her to the hospital?” Max asks. There’s genuine worry in her eyes that Steve barely sees. Dustin, Lucas and Robin appear, looking equally worried.

Steve puts on a brave face. “Think so. What do you think?” He asks Max. “You’re the skateboard expert.”

She grins so quick Steve almost misses it. It disappears when she looks at you in your bloody and bruised state. “Yeah. Just in case.”

Steve walks you over to your car, half dragging you. Not that you need him to, he just can’t bear for you to hurt any more than you already are. He deposits you in the passenger seat, ducks his head in to pull your seatbelt across your torso. He’s seconds from ducking back out when you stop him, your uninjured hand on his chest, right over his racing heart.

“It hurts,” you say, quiet enough that only Steve can hear. Your eyes are welling up again. Steve feels like crying himself.

“I know,” he says, nodding vigorously like it will make a difference. “I know, sweet girl. It’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be okay.”

At this point he’s talking to himself as well as you. You nod in an exhausted sort of way and Steve presses a kiss to your cheek. Slow and soft and as close to your lips as he’s ever kissed. He has to take a few seconds to compose himself before straightening up and turning to the others.

“I gotta take her,” he says, sending an apologetic grimace in Robin’s direction.

Robin nods once and surprisingly, doesn’t say a word. She looks about as sympathetic as Steve has ever seen her. He turns to the kids.

“Help Robin,” he says. He’s trying desperately to make his voice sound normal but falling short of the mark. Everyone notices but nobody comments. “Don’t mess up the store.”

He gives a grateful smile to Max and then rounds the car, hopping in and starting the engine.

-

You’re half asleep on Steve’s couch, your head in his lap. You’re wearing his yellow sweater — the one he bought only because you’d said he’d look good in yellow. You’ve just woken up from a post-hospital nap and Steve’s hand is in your hair, brushing slow strokes over the side of your head.

He’s feeling a lot of things. Relieved, for starters. The doctor had said it was only a sprain, they’d bandaged up your wrist and you’d left the hospital in far better conditions. Steve was in far better conditions, too.

Steve looks down at you, at your bandaged wrist and the huge bandaids on your knees and thinks, fuck. He thinks his heart is about to claw its way out of his chest. He doesn’t think he can take this love thing any longer.

You stir and take a long breath, turning your head in Steve’s lap to look up at him. Your eyes are tired but you’re smiling.

“You okay?” Steve asks softly. He doesn’t want to break the silence. It feels good, to sit in silence and comfort with you. He runs his fingers through your hair again.

You nod. “Mhm. I’m good.”

“Hurting?”

You shift in his lap. “No, not right now.”

You fall silent and Steve doesn’t know what to say. He wants to tell you how worried he was about you, but you could probably tell. Anyone with a pair of eyes could tell he was nauseous-level worried. Then he thinks about telling you he loves you. It’s a stupid reason, really, but it was all because a nurse had asked if he was your boyfriend. He’d wished he could say yes.

“Steve?”

Steve hums and meets your eyes. You move to sit up and Steve helps you, knowing you won’t let him stop you. A firm hand between your shoulder blades, his palm sliding down your back as you straighten yourself. You shift so you’re facing him, your legs crossed beneath you and your injured wrist resting in your lap. Steve is careful to avoid your wounded knees.

“What is it, babe?” Steve asks quietly. He brings his hand up to caress your cheek, dragging his thumb over a spot where your tears had smudged your mascara earlier.

You melt into his hand, eyes falling shut as a long, deep sigh falls from your lips. You raise your good hand to cover his, holding it to your face. Your hand burns stars onto the back of his.

“Is it your wrist?” Steve asks. You’re acting strange. He puts it down to your injured state. “Your knees? Do you want more ice? New band-aids?”

He’s being a total worrywart, he knows, but who can blame him?

You shake your head, eyes open but cast down. “No.”

“Just feeling bad?” He asks through a frown. In a strange parallel to a couple of days ago, he lifts his free hand to press his palm to your forehead. You feel warm but not hot.

“It’s …” you start, then trail off. Both yours and Steve’s hands fall to your lap.

Steve’s concern spikes. You’ve never been one to hide anything from him. “Yeah?”

“Um, it’s … it’s silly but—“ You take a deep breath and let your eyes raise to Steve’s. You get a look on your face Steve doesn’t quite understand, but it makes his heart leap to his throat anyway. “You know today, when that nurse asked us if you were my boyfriend?”

Steve laughs embarrassedly, too loud and too sudden. So you’d been thinking about that, too. He pulls his hand away from your lap and rubs the back of his neck.

“Yeah, that was kinda weird, wasn’t it?” He says, though it wasn’t really. Almost every new person he meets thinks you’re dating him. “I was—”

“I wanted to say yes, Stevie.”

Steve stops talking abruptly, his mouth slamming shut. He hadn’t really known what he was about to say, anyway. He searches for words but all he comes up with is a garbled, “What?”

You laugh, all soft and slow and distorted by fatigue. You raise your hand to rub your neck, a mirror of Steve only a moment ago.

“I wanted to say yes,” you repeat, like it’s obvious. Even the second time, Steve doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. His chest feels like it’s on fire, worse when you say, “I want you to be my boyfriend.”

For once in his life, Steve has nothing to say. He gazes at you like you’re some sort of angel on earth. Maybe he’s dreaming. Maybe he’s in some cruel dream and he’s about to wake up with his chest aching.

“I …” Steve‘s voice catches on the words. His throat burns so he mustn’t be dreaming. He tries again. “Y-You … you do?”

He’s not even embarrassed by the stuttering. Just when he didn’t think he could be any more in love with you, you giggle. He was dead wrong. His heart grows about three sizes too big for his chest.

“Yeah, Steve,” you say, fondness smothering your fake exasperation. “Do you … do you want me to be your girlfriend?”

What Steve wants is to kiss you. He wants to kiss you til you can’t breathe and then some more after that. Silently, he takes your injured wrist in his hand and gently shifts it so it’s out of the way, resting on the couch cushions. Then he grabs your face, fingers splayed over your jaw and neck. He can feel your pulse. It’s almost as quick as his. He leans so close he can hear every breath you’re taking.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over yours. “That okay?”

You laugh a giddy, breathless laugh, surprised at his suddenness. “Please do.”

He slams his eyes shut, darts forward to kiss you and fucking misses. Your noses bump. A surprised giggle bubbles from you and Steve goes red.

“Wait, I’m sorry—“ He tries again, tilting your head to one side and angling his head to the other. This time it works perfectly, and your giggling is swallowed up by Steve’s mouth, lips fitting together like they were made for each other.

You sigh and go all melty and Steve’s heart skyrockets. It feels like everything in the world is falling into place. It’s years of longing, eternities of lingering touches and offhand compliments and longing glances all rolled into one life changing kiss. Your good hand has jumped to Steve’s chest, first bunched in the material of his t-shirt and then spreading over it, palm atop his wild heart. He thinks he might die on the spot. Or like, catch on fire or something.

Steve is losing breath but he won’t stop just yet. He drops his hands to your shoulders and pulls away a hair’s breadth. Then he dives back in for one, two, three kisses that you respond to with all the eagerness in the world. Your kisses are so lovely they make him light-headed.

When Steve pulls away (for oxygen, nothing less) you chase his lips with yours. He laughs, all fondness. He’s dizzy with love.

“Woah, hold your horses, cowboy,” he says through a woozy laugh. He’s finding it hard to speak. He barely hears himself. For all he knows, he’s talking in an alien language.

“Sorry,” you whisper, not sounding very sorry at all. “So … was that a yes?”

Steve has to laugh. He can’t help it. “Are you kidding? Yes, Y/N. That was a yes. I—“

He’s rudely interrupted by someone banging on the door. He thinks he knows who it is. Only one person he knows knocks that hard.

He sighs morosely but he can’t keep the grin off his face for very long. “I’ll get it.”

He heaves himself off the couch and makes for the front door. You stop him before he gets very far, a hand in his bicep.

“Wait, Steve.”

Steve turns, puzzled. “Yeah?”

You’re lifting your chin up, lips parted. Steve knows exactly what you want.

His grin grows impossibly wider as he bends at the waist to kiss you once, chaste and slow and just as perfect as the kisses shared moments ago. When he pulls away you’re smiling so big he’s worried you’ll get stuck like that forever. He wouldn’t mind.

Another round of banging from the door. Steve sighs, squeezes your good shoulder once and then marches to the front door, just about ready to kick the intruder off his front porch. He opens the door and finds his suspicions were correct. It’s Dustin.

He’s holding a handful of flowers that look suspiciously similar to the ones that grow in Steve’s mom’s garden.

“Those for me?” Steve asks. He shoots his arm out to stop Dustin from barging in, hand gripping the door frame.

Dustin pulls a face. “Ew. No, they’re for Y/N.” He steps aside and more kids appear, plus Robin and Eddie. Eddie’s van has been parked haphazardly in Steve’s driveway. “Can we come in or are you gonna stand there and guard the door like that all night?”

“She’s tired.”

“But we bought chocolates.”

“Well—“

“Dustin?” You call from the living room. Oh, great. Now Steve’s gonna have to let them in. “S’that you?”

Dustin beams and gives Steve an expectant look. Steve drops his arm with a defeated sigh and Dustin goes marching in like he owns the place. Max, Lucas and even Mike follow. Mike, who never shows up to anything. Though Steve shouldn’t be surprised. You’re Mike’s favourite, out of the older ones.

Eddie comes next, then Robin, who stops to give Steve a grimace.

“Sorry,” she says wryly. “They really wanted to see her.”

Steve shrugs good-naturedly. He’s on cloud nine and much too happy to care all that much. He follows Robin into the living room and finds everyone crowded around you, Max on your side and Dustin getting down on one knee to present you the probably-stolen flowers like you’re the Queen of England. You look the same as Steve feels — kiss bitten and with your head in another world. But you’re pleased by the company, he can tell.

Dustin moves to give you one of his bone-crushing hugs and Steve goes all panic mode.

“Please be careful with her!” He says urgently, his panic obvious under the usual demanding tone he takes with the kids.

But you’re laughing under Dustin’s hug, and Steve can’t stay mad when you look like that. You meet his eyes over a mop of curly hair and your gaze goes all mushy and sweet. Steve’s legs feel like jelly. If he keeled over dead right now, he wouldn’t be surprised.

He’s sure someone will see but he doesn’t really care. Grinning from ear to ear, he mouths, “Love you.”

He’s said it before, of course he has, you’re his best friend in the whole entire world. This time though, it’s all the more different. It’s better. You flush, oblivious to the noisy chatter around you.

“Love you too,” you mouth back.

Steve can’t stop smiling for the rest of the night.

thank you for reading! feedback is appreciated!! reblog this and I’ll kiss you on the mouth mwah

😍😍😍😍😍

I'm Not The Only One Part 2

Summary: The aftermath of your enemy Steve telling you that your boyfriend cheated on you.

Word Count: 2387

Note: Not revised. Part 1 here

As you walked up to Matt’s door, you were afraid of what might happen. You desperately wanted to speak to Robin about what happened but then Steve dropped a bomb on you. Instead of worrying about the Friday incident, you were not concerned your boyfriend was cheating on you. You really hoped that Steve was just being his usual asshole self, but the way he said it and the look in his eyes told you he was being sincere. So here you were, at Matt’s doorstep, knocking pathetically.

After a few moments that felt decades long, the door swung open to reveal your boyfriend. His smile grew when he saw you and you nearly melted at the sight. “Hi baby,” he reached out for you.

“Baby?” You shook yourself out of your trance. “I’ve been calling you all weekend. Where have you been?”

“I just thought maybe you needed some time to cool off from Friday.” He shrugged. “You were really mad at me.”

“I think I had the right to be mad.” You scoffed.

“I mean come on Y/n, we’ve been dating for a month and you still haven’t let me kiss you.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame.

“Is that why you were kissing another girl after I left your house?” You question. “And don’t lie to me.”

“Look, Annalise called me to hang out and yeah we kissed but we’re not getting back together or anything. We can just forget it ever happened.” Matt reached a hand out to you.

“Are you insane? It may seem like no big deal to you but it is to me. That’s cheating.” You slap his hand away. “You’re unbelievable really.” You turn, heading back down the path. “Oh, and Grease is overdue, idiot.” You slam your car door as you finish getting in.

The first thing you can think of is to go see Eddie. You know his weird antics and personality can cheer you up in a heartbeat. The drive to his trailer is filled with the noise of sad ballads and your sleeved hand constantly wiping your eyes. Why were you crying? Matt was definitely not worth it and you knew that but you couldn’t help feeling worthless and unwanted.

As you park outside Eddie’s trailer, you look into the mirror and sigh. Your eyes were red, your hair was a mess, and your skin was sticky with old and new tears. You see Uncle Wayne on the porch, “Eddie, your little friend is here!”

You chuckle at his words and grab your bag before stepping out. Eddie rushes down the three steps and opens his long arms to engulf you. “Hey, come ‘ere.” He says quietly. You immediately enter his embrace and wrap your arms around his waist. “He’s an idiot.”

“Yeah, I know.” You sighed and lean your cheek against his chest. 

“You staying for dinner kiddo?” Wayne asks and you nod. “I’ll be heading to the store for food them. Be back in a bit.” Wayne gives Eddie a look.

“Let’s get you inside.” Eddie smiles and pulls you inside. “I can show you the new guitar strap that Dustin got me.”

-

Steve had called Eddie as soon as you left the store. He had filled him in on the entire situation.

“Okay so we’re going to go kick his ass right?” Eddie had told Steve through the phone.

“Eddie, you’re her friend. You have to do it.”

“Okay but you’re…meatier. I’m skinny. You’ve seen me shirtless. I need backup.” Eddie states. “Plus, someone has to comfort Y/n and I know it is impossible for you to be nice to her.”

“Hey, I can be nice.” Steve whines. “I was nice today.”

“Only because you had too.” Eddie snorts. “Look, you go kick his ass and I’ll go comfort Y/n.”

“I’m not kicking his ass alone Eddie.” Steve rolls his eyes. 

“How about neither of you kick his ass and both of you just go check on Y/n.” Robin adds, holding a box of new tapes. “Y/n is plenty capable of kicking Matt’s ass by herself.” 

“That’s true.” Steve laughs. “Well, I don’t think she’ll want to see me so… Eddie just take care of her okay? Let me know if she needs anything.” He ends the call after a few more moments, saying goodbye to Eddie.

“Oh, you’ve got it bad.” Robin laughs. “So so bad.”

“Robin.” Steve scolds. “I’m just being nice because she’s going through a tough time.”

“This could be what you need to start dating her. Swoop in to be her knight in shining armor or whatever.” Robin’s eyes light up. 

“Alright, that’s enough out of you.” Steve shakes his head, “I’m going on break.”

-

“So what did you tell Steve when he told you?” Eddie asks, sitting on the floor, rummaging through an old storage bin. You look down at him as you lay on your stomach across his bed, flipping through a magazine. 

“I mean, not much really. I basically interrogated him on what he saw and tried to verify if it was the truth.” You shrugged. “I seriously thought he was playing a joke on me.”

“I know he’s mean to you but not that mean. I think he likes you honestly.” Eddie bites his lip. “Imagine you and Harrington.” He ponders, “actually I think I almost threw up.”

“Shut up.” You toss a pillow in his direction. “He doesn’t like me. He can barely be in my presence. He said I was the Wicked Witch of the West, ya know?”

“If you’re the bad witch then I must be Glinda the good witch, huh?” Eddie raises a brow.

“Absolutely not. You have the hair to be Dorothy though.” You laugh. 

“I would look good in red sparkly heels and we both know it.” Eddie flips his hair off his shoulder. “But seriously, Harrington’s got the hots for you. He was all like,” Eddie switches his voice to mimic Steve’s. “‘Take care of my beautiful, wonderful future wife Y/n’ and ‘let’s kick Matt’s ass to avenge Y/n’s sweet soul’ and the best one ‘let me know if Y/n needs anything. And I mean anything Eddie.’” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows.

“He did not say any of that, you weirdo.” You toss another pillow at him. 

“You’re going to be pillowless in the next five minutes.” Eddie stands up to hit you in the head with the pillows, then stands a seat on the bed in the most obnoxious way making the entire bed bounce. “Remember when I first introduced you to the group? You thought Steve was cute. You even asked if he was single.”

“Which he technically wasn’t with all the dates he was going on.” You roll over onto your back. “I don’t know Eddie. Steve is cute but the past two years of bickering kinda just made me not really find him attractive.”

“Yeah yeah, I bet you’ll be dating or fucking by the end of the year.” Eddie lays beside you. “There’s so much sexual tension between you guys.”

“I hate you sometimes.” You laugh. “Let’s go see if Wayne needs our help.” You sit up and climb over him.

-

You had decided it would be a good time to thank Steve for looking out for you. It was Friday, only four days since you found out about Matt from Steve and confronted Matt yourself. As you walked up to Steve’s door, you remembered the last time you were here and how Steve had yelled at you. Maybe this was a bad idea. As you reached the porch of his house, you thought better and decided to just give him a call instead of your original plan. You turn back and start racing back to your car when you hear the door open.

“Y/n?” You hear. Your body freezes and you really wish you could just disappear.

Without turning around you reply with a quiet “Hey Steve.”

“You okay?” Steve asks, stepping out onto the porch after grabbing a jacket hanging near his door. “Did you just get off of work?”

“Um yeah, I just wanted to stop by to thank you.” You slowly turn around, scolding yourself mentally for not changing out of your uniform before coming to his place.

“Are those flowers? For me?” He points to the small bouquet in your hand. “You got me flowers?”

“Um… yeah. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to bring over. Robin said you were laying off the sweets so I didn’t bring any desserts over. I’m sorry this is stupid. I just wanted to say thank you for being so kind on Monday and throughout the week. I know you asked Eddie and Robin to keep you updated on me. I’m fine now. Really. So thank you.” You rush out, turning to leave. “Oh wait, here.” You turn back around and shove the flowers into his chest. “Bye. Thank you. I’m sorry. Bye.” You hug your body and run back to your car. He’s quicker than you, shutting the door just as you open it.

“Do you want to come in?” He searches for your eyes. “You look cold. I can make hot chocolate or something?” He offers, unsure. “Only if you want.”

“You sure?” You squint your eyes and meet his.

“Yeah, I wasn’t busy or anything. Just making some food.” He smiles softly. “There’s enough for two.” 

It’s his smile that has you immediately locking your car door and following him into his house. He waits for you to step inside his house before going in himself, like a gentleman. He shivers as he takes off his jacket. 

“I’m supposed to put the flowers in water right?” He sets the bouquet on the counter. You had momentarily forgotten about the flowers. Your cheeks flush with heat and somehow he senses your embarrassment. “You know, no one has ever gotten me flowers before? I don’t even think I have a vase.” He mumbles as he searches the cabinets. “You okay? You’re quiet. You know you can have a seat.” He looks up to see you still standing near the entryway to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be awkward.” You laugh.

“You’re not.” He assures. “We haven’t had a good relationship so it makes sense why this is weird.” He smiles again and holds a red tinted vase he found under the sink. “I found one.”

“Let me help you.” You offer, holding the vase as he runs the water. “So you’ve been on hundreds of dates and not one girl has given you flowers?”

“Surprisingly no. I guess it’s just the whole gender roles and norms. I hope I didn’t embarrass you, I was just surprised.” He turns the faucet off.

“Well, I’m glad I got them then. Robin wasn’t much help. She wanted me to get you a funny greeting card. There’s not really a card that says, ‘I know we hate each other but thanks for saving me from a potential shitty relationship.’” 

“I guess that’s true.” He shrugs. “You know I don’t hate you right? Slightly dislike but not hate.” He nudges your arm as he takes the vase and places it on the counter.  

“It sounded like you hated me when you told me to get out of Hawkins.” You start to unwrap the flowers. “I was never trying to replace you Steve. I just wanted to be part of the group. I hope you know that.”

“I still regret saying that to you. You looked so sad but instead of apologizing I just… I don’t know. I guess I thought it was better to be mean to you then accept the fact that the others liked you. I don’t know how much you know about me but I’m usually home alone and other than my friends, I don’t have anybody.” He says honestly, voice laced with sadness.

“You have me?” You offer. “Like moving forward? We could be friends. We can hang out without the mean comments and stealing my snacks.” 

“Even after everything I’ve done? You’d still want to be friends?” He looks down to his slippers. “I was a jerk.”

“Yeah you were. Especially by calling me a witch.” You laugh. He looks up at you and thinks it’s music to his ears. “I’m sorry for saying you have no heart and that you were a coward. Both of those aren’t true.”

“So I still have no brain?” He fakes being hurt. 

“I mean you can be pretty stupid.” You smile, “like that one time at the fair when you got the hot pickle and immediately spit it out because it was spicy.”

“I thought it was like, going to be hot in temperature.” He defends. 

“Who eats a warm pickle? Pickles are meant to be eaten cold.” You argue. 

“Yeah yeah, that was pretty stupid.” He rubs the back of his neck. “You know, I regret not taking up your offer to ride the ferris wheel that day.”

“I saw that you wanted to go but no one would go with you. You kept looking up at the wheel and the lights of the rides made your eyes look so pretty. I just had to ask you.” You scoot closer to him, your sides touching as you busied yourself with separating the flowers. “But then you rejected me!” You nudged him this time.

“I’m sorry!” He covers his face. “I’m really sorry. Not just about that but everything else.” He says more quietly. 

“I’ve already forgiven you, Steve.” You start rearranging the flowers into the vase. “We’re good now. Promise.”

“Good.” He smiles down at you. “You hungry?” 

“Starving.” You step back to look at your work. “They look so pretty.”

“Yeah, they do.” Steve agrees, though his eyes are on you not the flowers. You turn to look at him. 

“You’re pretty too, Steve.” You bite your lip and take a seat at the kitchen island to distract yourself from the butterflies erupting inside your stomach. What was happening? You thought. How’d you go from hating each other to flirting?

Steve knew once he told Robin about his night, he wouldn’t be hearing the end of it. Enemies to lovers? Maybe, he was a cliche. He really didn’t mind that idea.

Taglist: @yaskna

Steve is so dumb, I love him.

Matt is an ass! Y/n deserves better.

Do you plan in make a part 2? If yes, can I be tagged, please? Can't wait to see Steve all worried about y/n

I'm Not The Only One

Summary: You and Steve hate each other. He sees your boyfriend cheat on you. Will you believe him?

Word Count: 2316

Note: Not revised. This was an idea I got while listening to Sam Smith.

Your best friend was Eddie Munson and he had introduced you to the group when you moved back to Hawkins the summer after he graduated. Eddie spent so much time with his friends, especially Dustin that you grew close to him as well. You assume this is where the hatred from Steve started.

Steve would often hear your name so much it started to piss him off. First it was simple things such as Max or Nancy skipping out on group hangouts to go to the mall or a concert with you. Then it was his two closest friends Robin and Dustin who would go to you for things instead of Steve. It started with Robin: “Sorry Steve, Y/N is actually giving me a ride” after a shift. Then came Dustin: “I’m going to ask for Y/N’s opinion” on his outfit for a school dance or a date. Steve felt he was slowly getting replaced. With his lack of parents and his growing insecurities, Steve could feel himself isolating and becoming lonely. Soon, he would start flaking on group activities too and stop offering rides to his friends. 

Everyone noticed but no one knew how to bring up Steve’s absence. He would ignore their phone calls and door visits. He would be “too busy” at work to talk to Robin about it. He would somehow always be “unloading boxes” or “doing inventory” in the backroom when the kids would appear.

The group then decided to have a little meeting to see what they should do about it. It was when you suggested that maybe you should go talk to him about it, that the group started piecing together your new presence in the group coincided with his new absence. After much bickering from both Wheelers about how this seemed like a bad idea, you decided to just do it anyway.

So here you were, knocking for a third time on Steve Harrington's door. Eddie, Dustin, Robin, Lucas, and Max decided to “hide out” in Eddie’s van across the street to watch. You could definitely see them from the front door and so would Steve if he ever answered. You started getting impatient with Steve. His car was clearly in the driveway and you could hear the sound of a tv through the door.

“Steve, I know you’re in there. I can hear you.” You shouted. “If you don’t want to answer the door, I’ll just say my piece through the door.” You waited a few seconds. No reply. “Okay then, well we’re all worried about you. If me or any of the others did something to upset you, we’d like to know so we could fix it. I offered to come and speak with you because we all agreed ever since I joined the group, you’ve been off. If I’ve offended you or hurt you, I’d like to talk about it.”

The door suddenly opens and Steve’s looking as cozy and handsome as ever. Was he always this pretty? “H-hi Ste-” Your stuttering is cut short by Steve’s glaring and stern voice.

“I don’t want to speak with you.” He looks over your shoulder and can see Eddie’s van with several heads poking through the windows. “You can tell them that too. You know, since you’re this great, amazing, wonderful person. They clearly don’t need me anymore since they have you. Miss perfect.” He scoffs.

“Stev-” You attempt to stop him to ask what the hell is going on.

“Just go. Honestly, just get out of Hawkins. Go back to wherever the hell you came from and leave us alone. More importantly, leave me alone.” And with that the door slams in your face, leaving you in a blanket of embarrassment and anger. That was the start of your hatred for Steve.

-

A few years had gone by, the kids now seniors in high school. You’d met them when they were soon to be sophomores. Steve had integrated back into the group when you dialed back on your involvement. You’d often still hang out with Max or Lucas, and of course Eddie. But you started declining solo hangouts with Robin or Dustin and sometimes Nancy. Steve didn’t want to believe or think he was only useful now that you were out of the picture, well partially, but he appreciated it. It definitely helped with the loneliness too.

Over the last two years, anytime you’d see Steve, you’d just roll your eyes and keep your snarky comments to yourself (and Eddie who’d just chuckle and shake his head). Steve wasn’t as professional as you were though. He’d “accidentally” bump into you causing you to stumble, not enough to where you’d fall or seriously hurt yourself but enough to irk you and distract from whatever task you were doing. If you are at movie nights, he’d steal the entire bowl of popcorn or take the last slice of pizza or be super obnoxious by licking the top of the soda bottle so you (or anyone else) could have some. Of course Eddie would defend your honor and tell Steve to lay off and share his snacks with you, but it started to become too much. And there was the name calling: you forgot what time a hangout was? You’re dumb. You got over excited about a new song or movie? You’re a dork. You were too scared to go into a haunted house? You’re lame. So ultimately you started pulling back from the group even more.

This led you to seek friends in other places. That’s how you met Matt. Friend turned boyfriend. You’d met while on a solo trip to the arcade. He’d noticed you were playing Pac-Man alone and offered to play with you. You’d spent the entire night playing games and shared a basket of fries and chicken tenders. After exchanging phone numbers, you’d promise to see each other again. 

A few weeks later, you’d walked hand in hand into Family Video, all smiles as you searched the racks of movies. 

“Who the hell is that?” Steve leaned his elbows onto the counter, watching you and Matt. “She’s got a boyfriend? Since when?”

“They’ve been dating for like a month, you dingus. I’d think you’d realize that since she’s been spending less time with us.” Robin laughed quietly.

“Surprised anyone would want to date her, since she’s a witch.” Steve smiled at a customer who approached the counter. As he made small talk and rang the man up, you and Matt separated so you could go talk to Robin. Matt continued to scan the shelves, finding something you both might like. 

“Hey girly,” you smiled at Robin. “How’s work?”

“Better now that you’re here.” She winked, both of you chuckling. “How are things with Matt?”

“Good, good. We’re having a movie night at his place.” You smiled and looked over to Steve. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He laughed and threw his hands up in surrender. “You know, you might like this movie here. Since you starred in it and everything.” He handed you a copy of The Wizard of Oz.

You rolled your eyes, quick to respond. “You’re in it too ya know? You must have made a lot of money playing three roles. No heart, no brain, and a coward. I guess it didn’t take much to play those roles.”

“She got you there, Steve.” Robin laughed. 

“Matt, I’m going to wait outside.” You called.

“Okay babe, I’m almost done choosing.” He smiled, grabbing a copy of Grease. “Hey man, just this one.” He handed it to Steve.

“Sure thing.” He sighed and rang Matt up. Steve watched as Matt made his way out to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders and walking to his car. Steve scowled while Robin snickered. “What’s funny?”

“Oh dude, you’re so jealous.” Robin hopped onto the counter. “You like Y/N.”

“Absolutely not.” Steve faked a gag. “She’s the worst.”

“Why do you hate her so much? She literally never did anything.” Robin kicked Steve’s hip with her foot.

“She tried to replace me!” He argued.

“She did not. She had just moved here and her only friend was Eddie. She just wanted to make friends. You,” She kicked his butt cheek as he turned to leave from behind the counter. “Got jealous and blew up on her.”

“Did not.”

“Did too. And now you like her.” Robin hopped off the counter. “You try to hide it by being mean to her but you really like her.” She starts to make kissing noises. “You’re such a cliche Harrington.”

“Am not.” He tosses a rag toward her. “And I don’t like her.”

_

To say this night was a mess was a huge understatement. Not only had Steve’s comments actually hurt, but Matt was acting completely like Danny Zuko. You’d been watching Grease on his couch, snuggled under a blanket, when he tried to pull a move like Danny did to Sandy. You’d declined because you wanted to just watch the movie but he insisted. Then he made you feel guilty about not kissing him yet. You hadn’t had a serious kiss before and wanted to wait a bit. Your first kiss was with Eddie, a friendship pact to kiss each other and get it over with before you both turned 18. It was not good and you’d both laughed while it was happening. Now that you were looking to get serious with someone, you wanted a good first kiss redo.

The night had ended abruptly after you rushed off the couch and told Matt you’d see him later. You promised to call him when you got home. That call was not answered on his end. 

You tried calling him several times over the weekend but they all went unanswered. Had you messed up? No, he messed up. He was the one behaving like an idiot. You decided you’d go to his house and squash this entire thing Monday night after your morning shift.

What you hadn’t known was that he’d been preoccupied all weekend with his ex girlfriend Annalise. 

-

“You’re just trying to hurt Y/N. That didn’t happen Steve. It’s not funny.” Robin rolled her eyes. 

“I’m not Robin! I saw him. He had his arm wrapped around this girl that was not Y/N!” Steve followed her around the store as she reshelved returned tapes. “His tongue was down her throat. I swear.”

“How do you even know it was Matt?” She turned to face him, jumping when she realized just how close he was.

“He had on that stupid sweater vest and that lame haircut. I know it was him. Now you have to call Y/N and tell her.” He urged. 

“Why don’t you call and tell her yourself?” Robin shrugged. “You actually saw them.”

“She’ll believe you. She’ll never trust my word.” Steve pleaded. “Please, you have to tell her.” He grabbed the movie from her. “Please.” He whispered.

“I love Y/N but Steve, I didn’t see it and I don’t want to speak about something I don’t know about. Maybe ask Eddie to talk to her.” Robin snatched the movie back from Steve.

“If I tell Eddie, we’ll both be forced to kick this guy’s ass. I’d like to avoid going to jail for murder.” Steve sighed. “Please just talk to Y/N.”

“Talk to me about what?” Your voice carried across the store as their heads snapped to the door. The bell above the door definitely needed to be fixed. How did they not hear you come in? “Cat got your tongue?” You laughed and approached the counter.

“I was just telling Robin that you forgot to return Grease. It was due yesterday.” Steve muttered. 

“Actually, it’s under Matt’s name. So he forgot to return it. You can give him a call.” You shrugged. “Not sure if he’ll  answer the phone though.” You sighed.

“Well, what brings you in?” Steve asked nervously. There was no normal tone of annoyance or snarkiness laced in his words. You raised an eyebrow.

“Was just looking to speak to Robin actually. Girl problems.” You turn to look for her but she’s nowhere to be found. “Robin? Where’d she go?”

Steve’s just as clueless as you. He clears his throat and steps behind the counter. “So, um… how are things?”

“How are things?” You chuckle. “Why do you care?”

“I’m just trying to make small talk to fill in the awkwardness of this interaction.” He replies honestly. “How’s Matt?”

“I don’t know.” You lean against the counter. “He hasn’t been answering my calls. We kind of had a weird thing happen Friday night. That’s what I came by to ask Robin ab-”

“He’s cheating on you.” Steve blurts.

Your body tenses and you lean off the counter. “What?”

“He’s cheating. I saw him with another girl.”

“That’s not funny, Steve.” You glare at him, eyes narrowing. “You’re always so mean but this is super hurtful.”

“I’m not making a joke Y/N. I saw him!” He steps out from behind the counter as you start to back away. “I wanted to tell you but I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Who else knows? Who else was there?” You ask quietly, tears springing into your eyes.

“Just me.” He sighs. “I was grabbing food after work when I saw-”

“When? What day?” 

“Friday night. I thought it wasn’t him because he should’ve been with you.” He steps forward. “But he was wearing that vest with the diamond pattern. The green one. That’s how I remembered him.”

Suddenly, unfortunately, the bell signaling a new customer went off. Both you and Steve jumped at the sound, looking to the door.

“Welcome to Family Video!” Robin shouted as she entered from the back room. Her eyes flickered between Steve and you. You had to get out of there. And you did. Running as fast as possible back to your car. 

Absolutely amazing! I don't have words to describe how great this was! ❤️🤌

the barber predicament— s. harrington

pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k

synopsis: when steve complains that he can’t find a new barber after his old one retired, eddie recommends you; an old friend of his that’s a stylist. and you seem to know the way right to steve’s heart-through his hair. based on this request.

warnings: reader and eddie are besties, brief mention of eddie and max’s shitty childhoods, probably incorrect depictions on what it’s like to be a hair stylist, FLUFF to the max and terrible writing

a/n: I really really don’t like how this came out but I loved to request so much that I forced myself to finish it. everything I know I about being a hair stylist is from getting my hair done so much and from tiktok, so I tried to keep the details I wasn’t sure of vague. I apologize if anything is wrong, please let me know if it is. also I completely guessed on how much hairciuts were in the 80's so sorry if thats wrong too. otherwise, like always, i’d love any feedback you guys give me

masterlist

“Steve, I sympathize with you, I really do, but if I have to listen to you complain that you can’t find a barber for another second, I will tell Keith that you’ve been letting pretty girls get away with their late return fees.”

Steve’s jaw fell open, staring dumbfounded at Robin. “W-well, excuse me,” He stuttered, offended. “For wanting to confide in my best friend about my troubles. Truly, Robin, I don’t know why I assumed you’d be supportive.”

The blonde rolled her eyes, shaking her head lightly at her friends dramatics. “I was supportive up until the fourth time you talked about it. What’s the big deal, anyways?” She asked. “There’s like 3 different barbers in town. Go to one of them.”

Steve stared at her incredulously, as if she’d just told him to shave his head. “Are you being serious? Do you know me at all?”

Robin sighed, pulling the bin of returned movies out from under the counter. “Yes, Steve, in fact I do. I know that your hair is weirdly important to you. But what do you expect me to do about the fact that you won’t trust any of the barbers in town?” She asked, organizing the movies by genre on the rolling cart next to her.

“You looking for a barber, Harrington?” The additional voice caused the two Family Video employees to jump, looking over to see Eddie leaning on the counter casually.

Recovering from the startle, Steve nodded skeptically. “Yeah, I am. Why, you have someone you know?”

Eddie nodded with a grin. “Indeed I do. This girl that graduated the first time I was supposed to. She was in Hellfire. Went to school for hair and everything. Even does mine on occasion for a discount.”

Steve’s eyes shot up to his hairline, head nodding slowly. “Right.” He said, drawing out the vowel. “Well, listen, Munson. I mean no offense when I say this, but I don’t know if I trust someone with my hair that leaves you looking like that.” He explained, gesturing to the other boys head.

Eddie looked at him blankly. “Offense taken.” He deadpanned. “You think I want my hair like this simply for convenience?”

Both Steve and Robin stayed silent, giving Eddie knowing looks instead. He sighed in defeat. “Okay, fine, that’s partially why. But, I also have to give credit to my ultimate role model, Kirk Hammett.” He grinned.

He received blank looks from his friends and the metal head threw his arms up in exasperation. “Really? Kirk Hammett? Lead guitarist of Metallica? Nothing? Why am I friends with you guys?”

Before either of them could respond with a witty remark, Max came skipping up to the counter with two movies in her hands, throwing them down onto the counter. “I’m ready.”

“2 movies?” Eddie glared at the redhead. “Really, Maxine?”

Eddie and Max had a very odd brother sister relationship that was built almost entirely on a consistent basis of bickering and shoving each other around. Still, they looked out for one another, and Eddie felt responsible for making sure the little bit of Max’s childhood that was left was positive. Which he did so in different ways, including bringing her to rent movies for their movie nights.

“Yes, 2. Because you still owe me for the last movie night you forgot about.” She spit back. Eddie gritted his teeth, sliding over the correct amount of money to Steve for the movies.

“As I was saying,” He sent the redhead one last glare. “Even though my hair is convenient for my lifestyle, I ask for it to look a certain way to resemble someone I look up to. She’s the only one who’s ever gotten it to how I want.” Eddie told Steve, snatching a pad of sticky notes and a pen from behind the register.

He scribbled down a series of numbers before sliding it back. “That’s the number for the salon she works at. Give her a call. If you want.”

-

You were on your lunch break when the call came in. On a Wednesday, there was no need to have many stylists in the salon at once. Most appointments and walk ins would happen in the afternoon and as a younger stylist you were more often than not told to come in during the day for walk ins. The other women in the salon were older, more experienced stylists that didn’t need the extra cash you normally got for the services.

The food on your fork was midway to your mouth when the phone rang and you let it fall back onto your plate with a sigh.

“Thanks for calling Hawkins #1 hair salon, how can I help you?” The slogan spewed from your lips like a broken record.

“Uh..hi.” You straightened at the deep voice that came from the phone. Of course, you had men in the salon, usually though just to wait for their wives or kids to get their hair cut. There was the occasional male client, but most went to the local barbers and wouldn’t be caught dead getting their hair done in your salon. As if getting a haircut from a woman made them more feminine.

“Hello!” You chirped. “How can I help you today?”

The man on the other line hesitated for a second. “I’d like to book a haircut? With, um…Y/N.”

You perked up at the sound of your own name, a bashful smile appearing on your lips. Someone had recommended you?

“That would be me.” You chuckled. “Can I ask who referred you?”

The nameless man gave you a polite laugh, the deep timbre of the sound sending a warmth to your cheeks. “Uh, yeah. Eddie? Eddie Munson? He said you guys were friends in high school. Said you were good at what you do.”

The kind words certainly did nothing to quell the heat in your skin, but you still beamed at the mention of your friend. “Yeah, Eddie, of course. I’ll have to give him a discount the next time he comes in.” You joked. In all seriousness, you already didn’t charge Eddie the normal amount that you did for haircuts, fully aware of his financial situation. “But, yeah, I can put you in for a haircut. What day were you hoping to come in?”

“Is tomorrow okay? It’s my only day off.”

You opened up the binder that kept track of all appointments, making sure there were openings for the next day. “Yeah, it says here I have an opening at 10am and another at 1. Either of those sound good?”

The line went silent for a second too long, and you have a feeling the man nodded before remembering he was on the phone. “1pm would be great, thanks.”

You grabbed a pen and crossed out the 1pm slot. “Awesome. What’s the name I can put down for you?”

“Steve. Steve Harrington.”

-

Steve was irrationally nervous for his haircut. Never mind the fact that he was risking, in his opinion, his best feature, but the thought of meeting you was annoyingly nerve wracking. The way your voice sounded over the phone was borderline angelic, and he could only imagine what kind of beauty you radiated in real life. Not to mention, you and him briefly walked the halls of Hawkins High at the same time, and he wondered if you were aware of his reputation back then. He couldn’t recall your presence, but then again, he had his head so far up his own ass that he didn’t recognize most people from high school.

He was so antsy that morning that he was ready to go by 11, leaving him to pace and try to find little things to keep himself busy. The second it hit 12:50, Steve was sprinting out the door, making it to the salon in a record 5 minutes.

The bell above the door rang as soon as he stepped in, alerting the few stylists and customers that were there of his presence. One of the stylists, an older, heavier set woman took a glance at him as she blow dried her client.

“Y/N!” She called towards the back of the salon. “Your 1 o’clock is here!”

A second later, a woman stepped out, who he could only assume was you. You emerged from a beaded curtain, a sight to behold. Steve felt his breath hitch and he tried to wipe the sweat from his hands on his jeans.

You weren’t doing much better. Of course you knew who Steve Harrington was. He’d been a year younger than you, but he’d quickly climbed the social ladder in school. Every party was a big deal when it was held at Steve’s house and if you were friends with him, you were automatically cool.

You hadn’t cared much about the social aspect of school, focusing only on passing your classes and playing DnD. It’s where you met Eddie, who had easily become your best friend. It had been upsetting when you found out he wouldn’t be walking the stage with you, but you’d been supportive of him ever since.

And like every girl, you’d had a crush on Steve Harrington. How could you not? He was a total dreamboat and you’d be crazy not to find him attractive. You’d always been able to push that desire to the back burner, considering your best friend was continuously labeled as The Freak and you certainly didn’t gain any popularity by being associated with him.

When Eddie told you that he’d befriended the former King of Hawkins High, you truly believed he was fucking with you. But he claimed that the man had changed; matured. He told you that Steve’s best friends were a senior girl who Eddie knew band from marching band and a freshman that was in Hellfire. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious about this new man Steve Harrington had apparently become.

Oh, and that crush you had? Definitely still there. That much was evident by the dryness of your mouth that occurred the moment you laid eyes on Steve.

He was even more handsome than you remembered. Long legs clad in light blue Levi’s, polo shirt fitted nicely to his toned chest and big brown eyes looking back at you with an expression you couldn’t read.

Steve wished he remembered you. He couldn’t help but wonder if things had been different, would he have noticed you? He wanted to kick himself for not having. You were probably the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, and he realized now that describing you as angelic didn’t do you justice. You were ethereal–otherworldly.

He could see why you and Eddie were friends. Your outfit was mainly made up of black articles with a few splashes of color here and there. Your makeup was dark, creating a contract between the black eyeliner and the color of your iris’s. You were stunning, to say the least.

“Hi!” You exclaimed breathlessly. The sound of your voice broke Steve from his jumble of thoughts, only making his brain fizzle further. Your voice was even sweeter in person. “Steve, right?” You asked, though you knew the answer.

Steve cleared his throat, nodding. “Yeah, that’s me. You’re Y/N?”

You grinned so brightly it nearly made Steve’s heart stop in his chest. “That would be me. You can come sit at my station.” You said, patting the chair you’d stopped at.

He obeyed silently, taking a seat in the chair. You had to crank the lever a few times, lowering the height of the chair to accommodate for his large stature. You tried not to focus on the intoxicating smell of his cologne and he tried not to focus on your hands taking through his hair.

“So, what were we thinking of doing to your hair?” You asked, leaning your arms on the back of the chair.

Steve made eye contact with you through the mirror and hoped you couldn’t tell how red his cheeks were, because he definitely could. “Um, I was hoping to keep most of the length. Shorter on the sides, longer in the front?” He was really just spitting out words, hoping they made sense. Honestly, he was finding it difficult to focus on your question when he felt your fingertips on his scalp.

“So..we’re thinking Swayze but longer?” Steve’s jaw fell slack, staring at you in awe as you put his thoughts into words with incredible ease. You really did know what you were doing.

“Yeah, exactly.” He responded quietly, a little stunned.

You sent him that brilliant smile once again. “Cool.” You stared thoughtfully at his reflection, head tilted to the side. “Can I-could I suggest something? And you can totally say no, but I personally think it would look really good.”

Steve thought that you could ask him to commit arson and he’d say yes. “‘Course. What is it?”

You pulled a couple of strands around his face, trying to visualize your idea. “How would you feel about getting a little bit of highlights?”

His eyebrow cocked in questioning. “Highlights? Don’t only chicks get those?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes a bit, and Steve’s stomach immediately dropped. He fucked up, he offended you, he–

“No, silly. There’s actually a lot of actors recently that have been getting them. It wouldn’t be any drastic, just a few streaks that would be a shade or two lighter than your natural color. I think it would compliment your skin tone, bring out your eyes.”

The boy found himself nodding before he really considered what you were telling him. “Yeah,” He blurted, realizing he had yet to give you a verbal response. “If you think so. I trust you.”

“Great.” You laughed. “I’ll get you mixed up.”

Steve didn’t know what that meant, but he did know that his haircut had now upgraded to a lengthier process, and he was just happy to have a reason to be around you longer.

As promised, you came back out a couple minutes later, using a brush that looked like a big fork and mixing up a gooey mixture in a bowl. You were quick to start slathering the light purple substance in his hair, carefully applying it to chunks that you had placed over a piece of foil. Each section was enclosed and folded into a little square.

“So what brings you to me? I know you said Eddie referred you, but guys aren’t usually very willing to go to a stylist rather than a barber.” You said.

Steve shrugged a little. “I had a barber before, but he retired and moved out of Hawkins. He’s the only one that’s ever gotten my hair exactly how I want it.” He blushed, reluctant to reveal the reason he’d agreed to be there. “My hair is kinda important to me, I didn’t wanna go to just any barber and risk them fucking it up. Eddie said you were great and I really just needed a haircut.” He explained.

You nodded understandingly, finishing up the last couple sections of his highlights. “I get that. Hair has always been really important to me too. Obviously.” You gestured around you. Steve laughed and you felt the sound bring a warmth to your chest. “It’s always been the easiest way besides my clothes to express myself. And it’s nice to have control over something as an adult when so much is out of your control.”

Your eyes met in the mirror once again, his big doe eyes staring deep into your soul with an understanding that only came from shared experiences. You didn’t know much about Steve’s home life, only what you’d heard during school. His parents were loaded but were often never home. As a teenager, that’s the best thing that could happen to you, but as an adult, you saw how that could get pretty lonely.

The time passed by far too quickly for either of your tastes. You and Steve hadn’t even noticed the time flying so quickly as you talked about anything and everything. It was crazy to think that this man, this sweet, charismatic, beautiful man, used to be a douchebag in high school.

Steve was in heaven as you washed his hair, not even bothering to hide his bliss as your fingers massaged the hair products into his scalp. He could die happy right now, he was sure of it. You held back a giggle as his eyes closed and a convent hum came from his throat. Not wanting to embarrass him, you refrained from commenting and continued your routine.

After a few cycles of shampooing and rinsing and conditioning and rinsing until Steve’s hair was clean and silky smooth, you shut the water off and gathered his hair in a little towel.

“Okay, all done. I’m just gonna blow dry your hair, style it a bit and you’ll be all set.” Steve couldn’t help the frown that appeared, not wanting your time together to end.

It seemed like you read his mind, commenting as you dragged a hairbrush through his brunette locks. “If you’re happy with how your hair came out, you can always come back for trims, o-or touch ups on your highlights.” You stuttered, smiling sheepishly and silently praying that he couldn’t tell how desperate you were to see him again.

“Yeah?” He asked. You nodded, biting your lip shyly as you refocused on his hair. You sat in a forced but comfortable silence as you blowdried his hair. Once it was all nice and fluffy, he watched as you poured a series of liquids into your palm, raking them through his hair. You messed with the strands for another few minutes, doing stuff he didn’t understand but somehow styling his hair exactly how he likes it.

He had to admit, you were definitely right about the highlights. They brought a brightness to his complexion that hadn’t been there before. He felt like he looked younger somehow, which was surprising, considering the kids he always hung around with made him feel like he was pushing 80 sometimes. He told you as such, reveling in the sweet sound of your laughter.

“Well, that’s my job. Just glad you trusted little ol’ me with your most prized possession.” The words came out teasingly. Steve grinned back at you through the mirror, shrugging slightly.

“Guess I owe Munson, huh?”

You agreed, guiding him back to the front to check him out. You typed something into the register at the counter. “Your total is gonna be $10.”

Steve’s eyebrows almost touched his forehead. “That’s it? For the haircut and the highlights?”

“Yeah, it’s with a discount. You are Eddie’s friend after all.” You were almost charging him just for the haircut, and Steve was not having it.

He frantically shook his head in protest. “No, no, Y/N. You don’t have to do that. I can pay you the full price, trust me.”

“Steve,” You chuckled, “It’s okay. I don’t give out many friends and family discounts, it’s not like I’m losing all that much money.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you challengingly. “Oh yeah? How much is the full price for highlights.”

You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue, reluctantly mumbling out the price, which was much larger than what you were asking. “Absolutely not. Charge me the right amount.” Steve was not about to leave and let you basically have a free service. Not when you worked so hard.

“I’ll just tip you the rest if you don’t.” He smirked, eyes peering at you fondly when you sighed in exasperation.

“It’s seriously fine. I offered the extra service, you don’t have to pay for it.”

A lightbulb lit up in Steve’s head, eyes shining at the obvious opportunity. He’d be an idiot not to take it.

“Fine.” He sighed dramatically. “At least let me do something to pay you back for it. A service for a service, huh? What do you say?”

The corners of your mouth tilted up, betraying your efforts to keep a serious face. Steve was clearly not backing down. “Okay. What’d you have in mind?”

A pink rose to Steve’s freckled cheeks. “Let me take you on a date?”

Your breath hitched. You certainly felt the tension between the two of you ever since he walked in, but you really weren’t expecting anything to come from it.

Steve took your silence as a negative reaction. “Or-I could do anything else. Doesn’t have to be a date, really. I could buy you lunch one day or-“

“I’d love to.” His big brown eyes snapped up to meet your in surprise.

“Really?”

You nodded gleefully, unable to keep your grin from growing. You could feel your cheeks beginning to ache with how much you were smiling.

“Okay.” He whispered, ducking his head bashfully. Steve quickly pulled his wallet out, handing you the 10 dollar bill.

It took less than a minute for you to input his money in, ripping the receipt that printed it. Before you could hand it to him, you grabbed a pen and scribbled something on it.

“My house number. Give me a call?” You asked in a hopeful tone.

“Definitely.” Steve grinned and you repressed the urge to swoon. He sent you a cute little wave, leaving you in the salon smiling like an fool. As soon as he was out the door, your fellow stylists squealed, crowding around you and demanding details.

Steve faintly heard the high pitched noise, smirking to himself. Sliding into the drivers seat of his BMW, he sighed happily. “Yeah, I definitely owe Munson.”

general taglist:

@teenwolfbitches28

@thethreeheadeddragon

@Cerbythepuppy

stranger things taglist:

@m-rae21

@mulletmcghee

strike throughs means tumblr wont let me tag you :(

add yourself to my taglist!

I loved it with all my heart! I have a long-distance relationship and sometimes things get really hard to deal with. I love how you wrote the angst and they meeting again and Steve crying because y/n was there with him... Omg, that was amazing!

😍❤️

Hearts on the Telephone Line | Steve Harrington

》 PAIRING: steve harrington x female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship; hurt/comfort; mild angst; fluff

》 REQUESTED: yes by @sheisjoeschateau​ !

》 SUMMARY: You thought Steve was okay dealing with a long-distance relationship after you moved for an exciting internship in New York. But you were proven so wrong when your boyfriend finally poured his feelings over the phone. Because distance wasn’t making his heart grow fonder, it was breaking it.

》 WARNINGS: slight canon divergence (everyone’s okay, alive & they won bc i said so), shitty internship, this thing called adulting, annoying roommate/cousin, pet names (baby, sweetheart, my love), sad!steve :( & soft!steve <3, lot’s of ‘missing you’ angst, separation anxiety (kinda?), mentions of: nightmares & near death experiences in the upside down; so. much. crying (both happy and…not so much), fluffy ending.

》 WORD COUNT: 8k+

A/N: hello hello! another steve fic hah i’m in too deep. this is also another supposed blurb turned into a whole long ass one shot bc it’s me, hi 😭 but anyways, i hope you guys enjoy this one!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ STEVE HARRINGTON MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩  

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

You deeply sighed in relief as you closed the apartment door, pressing your back against it with a soft thud.

To say you were tired was an understatement.

Running countless errands—personal ones, to be specific—for your boss was a task and a half all on its own. Now, doing it in your ’office uniform’ that wasn’t of your choosing, one that consisted of an itchy, frilly, long-sleeved blouse tucked into an uncomfortable, pleated, long skirt and some kitten heels?

It felt like you’d just gone through hell and back.

Continuar lendo

Ooh, so precious! 🥹😭 If you're planning on writing more parts and doing a tag list, can I be added to it? Thanks! Loved your fic 😍

Mrow

Bakugou x roomate!reader

Summary: you've gotten yourself into a quirk accident & were now..?? a cat??

A/n: if there's one thing i like about the mha universe is that the existence of quirks make up so many plot possibilities to play with. i had a lot of fun writing this & i hope you enjoy reading too!

🌟

You were a cat.

Your day most certainly could not get any weirder than this.

You were chasing after a petty thief down the alleyway when it happened. You almost felt bad for going after what could be the most skittish crime offender you've ever encountered.

Then she struck you with her quirk.

The force of it knocked you to the ground & your sight went blurry. You vaguely heard her apologized profusely, swearing it was an accident & stammering that you'll be able to figure out how to undo it on your own, leaving you to slowly black out.

When you came to, you found yourself absolutely drowning in a mass of clothes that you soon realized was your hero outfit. Horrified at the discovery, you looked down at your naked body only to find out you weren't exactly naked.

You were covered in fur.

Cursing out in confusion, you heard your own voice rang through the alleyway. But it didn't sound like your voice & what came out was most definitely not coherent words.

Panicked you scrambled to get out of the alley, almost plopping face first into what seemed to be a ridiculously huge puddle, barely catching yourself as you fell on your furry butt. Peering into the muddy water, you felt your heart sank at the sight of your own reflection.

You were a cat.

🌟

You've sat at your front door for approximately 15 minutes, glaring at the wood, willing it open with your mind.

You decided quickly that heading to your agency will do you no good, already concluding you aren't getting a productive two-way conversation with anyone while you were in this form. Trying to alert other pro heroes on your way did not work out, unless them cooing & making baby voices at you counted.

The familiar sound of heavy boots approaching your door made you perk up. Your roomate was home.

You padded aside to make way for your roomate to open the door, you little body slumping in relief. You didn't notice Bakugou skeptically raising an eyebrow at your presence but saying nothing otherwise.

The click of the door unlocking had you sighing inwardly. Ugh. Thank fuck. You thought as you padded in tiredly. Curling up in bed after the day you had the only thing on your mind.

You barely made it two steps in before your feet were no longer on the ground, making you squeal in surprise.

"Oi."

You heard your own angry mewls as Bakugou grabbed you by the scruff, holding you up to his face.

"Who the fuck do you think you are waltzing in like you own this place?"

You wanted to scream. You were too tired for this shit right now.

Oh my god. Bakugou! I do own this place. Its me! Y/n!

You tried explaining to no avail as you thrashed in his hold. Bakugou muttered something about you being 'a loud little fuck too' & started heading for the front door.

This made you bristle in irritation even more.

There was absolutely no way you were turned into a cat & getting kicked out of your own apartment on the same day. Not fucking happening.

The moment Bakugou dropped you off out the front door, you launched yourself onto his pant leg before he could close the door in your face, clinging on to dear life as the blonde yelped in surprise at feeling your little claws dig into the fabric of his sweatpants.

"Are you fucking kidding me??" He yelled, swinging he's leg around, jostling you with the movement, trying to get you off of him.

No! Thats my line, you bastard! Don't fucking kid with me!

You yelled profanities at him. All of which, to your dismay, came out as high pitched wails while Bakugou stumbled around as he tried to pry you off his leg while you held on with all your might. In his struggle, he bumped into the front door, cracking it open just a smidge. Seeing this opening you leaped off of him & made a mad dash inside, hearing your angry roomate shout after you. You dove for the living room sofa, barely wiggling your way through the narrow space underneath, only just escaping the angry blonde's grasp.

You heard Bakugou yelling at you to get out, to which you yelled right back at him- non-threatening little mewls be damned. You weren't standing for this bullshit.

Fuck.

There was no way of communicating with him like this. Where the fuck was a convinient scrabble board game when you needed one.

🌟

"Oi. Come out. You must be hungry. I got you food."

No! You'll try to throw me out again! Out of my own home may I add!

You heard Bakugou snicker at your yowls from under the sofa, making your tail puff up in annoyance.

"Calm down, brat. I won't throw you out. Promise. Just food."

You contemplated your options for a moment before relenting to his offer. Bakugou chuckled at the sight of you poking your head out of your hiding place, looking up at him with doubts written all over your furry face.

You watched him place two saucers by the table, one of steamed fish, the other filled with clean water before moving on to set his own meal & take a seat at the table. Trotting over nervously, you looked up at him one last time, just in case he was bluffing, only to have him roll his eyes at you. "Hurry up. My foods getting cold."

You tilt your head at that.

His food? Was he waiting for you to eat together?

You wanted to ask but your tummy growling & confirmation that you could hold Bakugou to his word had you making your way to your dishes. Plus your questions would only come out as mewls & squeals anyway so.

Sitting on your haunches you meowed out a 'thanks for the food' before digging in, making the blonde laugh.

"At least you have some manners for a feral little thing."

🌟

You didn't have time to worry about getting kicked out after dinner, having seemingly become the least of Bakugou's problems after a phonecall left him agitated & fidgety.

You watched Bakugou pace the living room back & forth, whilst holding his phone up to his ear, seemingly getting more & more frustrated by the minute as he grumbled under his breath ever time the call went to voicemail.

"Mrow?"

Bakugou barely acknowledged your presence with a glance before he's dialing the number again.

"She's not fucking answering."

Who?

"The other dumbass that lives here. She should've been home ages ago. Its getting dark."

Oh. Oh, he's worried about you.

Cursing under his breath at another voicemail, Bakugou muttered something about calling your agency again while you watched him barely contain his distress as he learns no one has seen you since your patrol.

"This fucking dumbass. Where the hell are you??" Bakugou growled while tugging on the boots of his hero outfit, the worry underlying his voice made your gut churn with guilt.

You scurried over to where he sat at the door, swiftly lacing up his boots. He paused when you meowed, peaking around his side.

Keeping your eyes on his, you tested the waters by perching up on his thigh, front paws on his tummy with those red eyes watching your every move. When Bakugou didn't push you off, you continued wiggling your way up his chest, his hand instinctively coming under your legs to support you.

Face to face with him, you see the distress on his face, the expression making your heart heavy. Pushing your little body on your hind legs, you bring a paw up to the wrinkles between his brows.

I'm right here, Bakugou. You mewled quietly.

The blonde huffed out a quiet laugh at that. "Whats with you? You're way too perceptive for a regular fluffball." You perk up at his words. Maybe he'd finally notice!

Thats 'cause I'm not a cat! Its me! Y/n!

To your dismay, he only chuckled at your frantic meows. "Alright, alright. I have to go now," he rumbled out with an amused grin overlaying his worry. He stood up slowly, picking you up in his large hands to set you on the ground. "M'bringing that idiot home so I can introduce ya. I'd bet she's gonna love ya."

You could only watch as Bakugou stepped out into the night to search for you, knowing he wouldn't find you out there tonight.

Okay, you won. You broke my heart and I'm a crying mess

😭😭😭

Who Knew~ E.M ft S.H

Anonymous asked:

I know you said you wanted to write some angst so what about reader being Steve's BFF and he dies in the upside down saving her just basically switch eddies ending with Steve's and eddie feels so guilty and bad bc he's never seen reader act this way before so he tries to be there for her the way steve was only problem is he's got feelings for her but he's scared to tell her bc he feels like it's bad timing so he practically does everything steve did for her plus more and they slowly transition from friends to more than friends without even having a talk or realizing it yet you can end it how you like just a lot of angst and some hurt/comfort

Angst

" Steven Harrington, what do you think your doing. Get your ass up here" you hissed, fear in you eyes as your best friend stared up at you. His eyes looked over to Eddie who begged him to come back up the rope. It was you, Steve and Eddie leaving Robin, Nancy and Dustin to kill Vecna.

Steve swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked out in the open of the Upside down and looked back up at you. Your eyes plead for him. " Harrington"

" I'm so sorry bug, but I'm buying us some time" he cuts the rope between Hawkins and Upside Down. " Take care of her" he says to Eddie before he's out of sight.

" Steve!" you shouted. Looking up at Eddie in panic, " We need to go, he can't go alone. He can't do this" your hands shook feeling the tears. You weren't ready to lose your best friend. Not today. Not ever.

Eddie scramble to his feet as he gripped his head thinking. You gripped on his battle jacket and shook him, " Munson. I don't care how we get through the gate but he can't go alone..I can't leave him.."

Eddie's heart sinks hearing your pleading as he looks around as you two worked together to get through the gate. He was determined to get to Steve.

Your hands grip on the swing set as you moved your feet back and forth. The only sound you heard was the crunch of sleeves as someone walked up to you. Your eyes locked with a pair of brown hair and the softest, shiniest hair you had ever seen on a boy.

" Hi" he greets you. In his hands he held a Transformer closely to his chest. " Hi" you sent him a small smile eying his Transformer. He waves in the air.

" This is Optimus Prime" he holds out the transformers arms as a sort of way to you. You can't help but giggle and cover your mouth with your hand. The boy smiled as you as he sat on the swing near you.

" What's your name?" you asked him. He held the Transformer back to his chest. " Steve" you awed at his name finding it really easy to say and you liked it.

" My name is Y/N"

" Do you want a push?" he asks, holding his transformer in his hand by the arm while he stood behind you. " I would like that" you said swinging your feet in the air. Steve gently pushes you but it's not much of movement. He stops for a moment as he frowns.

" Hold him" he hands you his Transformer into your hands as he places his hands on your back and pushes you with all his might.

That was the very first time you met Steve Harrington.

You drop down after getting over the gate with Eddie by your side. In your hand you had your weapon while Eddie had his as the both of you ran to find Steve.

Steve kept fixing his hair in the mirror, frowning each time he ran his fingers through his hair. You sat on his bed with your back to the wall watching him.

" How much spraying are you going to use with that, Harrington?" In his hand he had the Farrah Fawcett spray. He kept running his fingers through his hair adding more pumps than you had counted.

He was being ridiculous. He whined as he stood back straight and sighed.

" I'm never going to get it right" he turns to face you as he waved his hand around his face. " Does it look good or did I over did it?"

You eye the mess on his head as some strands stick up and it doesn't look like it was working for him. You tried not to chuckle at him and the way he was pouting.

" Do you need help?" His shoulder slumps as he nods, hanging his head. " Let's rewash your hair because who knows how sticky your hair is by now. You weren't suppose to use that many pumps"

He threw his hands up as he let you drag him to the bathroom where you washed his hair in the sink. His hair had outgrown and was the softest it has ever been in his life.

The both of you were starting high school soon. Steve had to get his hair right for his image if he wanted to be popular.

" You are suppose to use the shampoo and conditioner, and when your hair's damp — it's not wet, okay? When it's damp, you do four puffs of the Farrah Fawcett spray. Okay?" After you washed his hair, he stood up with a towel on his shoulder as he ruffled his hair with the towel.

Steve got an idea as he shook his head side to side as little drops of water from his hair got all over you.

" Steve!" you squealed. He laughed as he stopped and glanced down you.

" Thank you for doing this, I don't know what I would do without you"

" I'm always going to be here for you, Stevie"

This was the very first time you called him Stevie and it brought nothing but joy in his heart.

Your body stiffs as you spotted a body on the ground a little further ahead. Eddie races to catch up with you as he halts in his step.

" Why did you stop?" he asked. He turns his head to your line in vision and his face goes place as he spots the body laying on the ground. Your breath hitches as you raced towards it.

Gasping and dropping onto your knees seeing Steve gasping for his own breath. He turns his head as he spots you in the corner of his eye.

You take a hold of his head as you support it in your lap. Tears ran down your cheeks.

" Steve..." you say his name, your voice cracking. His hand slowly comes up asking in silence for yours. You grab onto his, holding it and he brings it to his chest slowly. You feel the blood wetting your fingers.

The demo bats around him had fallen to the ground and he doesn't look too good. The look on your face tells Steve that it wasn't good at all.

" That bad?" he asks through his mouth spilling blood onto his chin. " Stevie" you whimpered. " We need to get you to the hospital" his other hand comes up to your face, smearing blood on your cheeks as he moves the hair away from your face. He winces at how much he's trying to stay alive.

" No" he shakes his head, his own eyes getting glossy as he stares up at you.

" Thank you for being the best friend a guy could ask for" the hand that is on your cheek brushes your chin with his fingers. " You were always taking care of me"

More tears ran down your face, " don't cry.." he says. " I had the best years of my life, having you as my best friend. That's all I needed and wanted" he says.

His eyes look over to Eddie, " Take care of her, man" Eddie's crying and shaking as he nods making a promise. Steve turns his eyes to you and takes the moment to admire how pretty you are.

" Best-" Steve doesn't get to finish his sentence as the light leaves his eyes as he stares straight ahead. You sniff as you call out to him, letting his hands go as you grip on his shirt and shake him.

" Steve!" you shouted, shaking him. " Steve Harrington!" you shake him again, more tears spilling as you yell out to him. " Steve fucking Harrington!" you shout putting your head on his chest not hearing a heart beat. " Come back to me! I need you!" you beg as you shake him.

But he's gone.

" No!" you shout looking up at the red sky in anger feeling your heart in two. Two hands place on your shoulder causing you to shoot a glare at Eddie.

" We have to go sweets" he says. You shake your head, glaring at him.

" I'm not leaving him here" you say motioning to Steve. " We have to go Y/N" he says, wrapping his arms around you and lifts you up off the ground. You scream and thrash your legs around begging to be left with Steve.

Eddie's own heart breaks as he pulls you towards the gate. Robin, Dustin and Nancy run your way seeing Eddie pulling you.

" What happened? Where is Harrington?" Robin asks as she looks around. She sees blood on your hands and they all began to worry. Eddie sat you on the ground as you angrily wipe your tears away.

" Steve sacrificed himself to save us" Eddie says. All heads turned to you as you stood away from them, sobbing with your shoulders shaking and hair fanning over your face that they don't see how much this hurts.

Robin is in disbelief as tears fill her eyes. Dustin grips his head and shakes, not believing it.

" Is it true Y/N?" Nancy asks. You sniffed, " Yes. He's gone and I couldn't save him.

Steve arms wraps around you as he leads you into Hawkins High School, making fast friends with Tommy H and Carol as the four of you walk through the doors. Heads turn as the four of you walk through the halls. Sooner than later, you all are the talk of the school and everyone wants to be friends with you.

One particular girl catches Steve eyes as stands with her books in her hands by the locker. She shyly looks at him with a small smile on her face and he smirks at her, throwing a wink.

" Seriously?" you ask him, rolling your eyes. " The nerd?" Steve turns his head as he playfully pushes you into Tommy. " Shut it, you" he says with a soft smile on his face. " She's cute" he says, shrugging. Steve ended up telling you he has a crush on her and was going make her his.

When they became a couple, Nancy was hesitate about how close you and Steve were.

" She's my best friend, she's a big part of my life" Steve says as he turns to look at you, an arm wrap around your shoulder, " you don't like well, tough" he says to Nancy.

This was the first time you felt special from Steve.

Steve would always drive you to school, home and any other place your heart desired. Steve would always plan movie night with you and you got the snacks. Steve would always be the number on who call you if anything happened and you'd call him when you could not sleep.

It's been a couple of weeks and you took the time to walk into his room.

Sitting on his bed letting your tears run down your cheeks and gasping for air feeling your heart clenching at the sight of his room, his scent, everything in it and it brought many memories to you. They all left him there as he laid there, alone. He didn't deserve to die the way he did and you couldn't do anything about it.

Hands covers your face as you sobbed.

" I'm so sorry Stevie.." you mumbled.

The phone rang besides your bed as you turned down the music you were listening to and picked up the phone.

" Hello?" you asked. The other person on the other line sniffled. " Stevie?" you asked. He would only call you like this when he needed you, he always called.

" She doesn't love me" he says. " I'm so stupid" Steve says.

" I'll be right over Steve, hold on" you hang up the phone. You shut off the music and grabbed your keys as you headed out the door to Steve's. He didn't live far from you as you ran all the way there.

He gave you an extra keys to his house. His parents knew you always came over unannounced sometimes too.

" Stevie?" you asked. " Here" he responded through his tears. You headed to his room and opened the door seeing him sitting on his bed, hunched over with his head hanging.

" Oh, Stevie" you dropped to the ground in front of him and wrapped your arms around you. Your fingers combed through his hair, trying to calm him down. He buried his head into your shoulder and soaking up your shirt with his tears. Life was unfair to him but he had you to hold onto.

" She didn't deserve you. She doesn't know what she's missing out on" Steve pulls his head away from your shoulder as he looks at you. He brown eyes are puffy red with a small pout on his face.

" I thought she would love me back. Am I not good enough?" He asks.

" You're more than good enough, Stevie" you reached and wiped his tears with your hands, collecting the new ones that are spilling. " You're sweet, thoughtful, funny and one of kind."

" Do you mean that?" he asks, shifting on the bed as he sat up straight. You nodded.

" every word" his arms wrap around your waist when you got up and rest his head on your stomach. Your fingers run through his hair as you stayed with him like that.

Time like these, Steve was lucky to have you as his best friend.

He was gone. He wasn't going to have his dream of having six nuggets and a family lichee dreamed. He was never going to be able to hug you, listen to your jokes, have movie night with you, tease you, laugh or send a smile at you. He wasn't going to drive you to school and home. You were never going to see him again and it torn you apart.

Just like that, he was taken away from you. Your best friend. The one person you trusted and most cared about.

The transformer sits on top of his dresser as a reminder that you were his first friend, his best friend and the person he shared everything with. He stood there, broken arm and a little rusty as it stand at you.

You made your way to his dresser and took it in your hands.

" why couldn't it be me? Why did you have to do that?" you mumbled asking into the unknown. You threw the Transformer against his wall in anger as new tears streamed down your cheeks. You fell to your knees in front of his dresser.

" Please come back to me, Stevie" you whispered into the air as if someone was listening to you. But no one was there. You were met by silence.

The yellow long sleeve peeks out from one of the drawers that was opened and you grab it in your hands feeling the softness of it. You bring it up to your nose and sniff it as it holds his scent.

You were never going to be able to see him in the yellow long sleeve shirt that you bought for him one day seeing it at the mall. It fit perfectly on him.

You sat there not knowing for god knows how long. But you didn't even paid attention to the door opening and closing as your name was called through the Steve Harrington's home. Footsteps came closer to the door and the door opened revealing Eddie on the other side.

His heart cracks into two seeing the sight of you holding onto Steve long sleeve. He kneels down on the floor as he places a hand on your shoulder.

" Sweetheart?" he calls out to you. He had hoped he could grab your attention with his touch. But you shrugged it off like it burned you.

" Sweets?" He tried again as he touched you but this time you shot up in a sitting position and glared at him through your dry tears.

" Don't touch me" you shook your head. Eddie frowns as he sits there not knowing what to do. Honestly he has never seen you like this before and it scared him how you were slipping away.

" You haven't spoken to anyone in days. We all miss you, I miss you. You can't keep doing this to yourself" Eddie says.

You scoffed, " Steve died or did you forget? My best friend died in my arms and I couldn't do anything to save him? He was your friend too, Eddie"

Eddie nodded.

" Let me take you home, sweets" he says reaching his hand out to take the long sleeve out of your arms but you clutched it to your chest.

" If you think for a second, I will give you this than your highly mistaken Munson" he nods as he hold out his hand for you to take. You eyed the ring clad hand and look up at him. His brown doe eyes are filled with sadness. For you.

He is mourning Steve in his own way but he promised Steve to look out for you. He had been pushing his own feelings deep down for you, too afraid to tell you the truth. You were beyond beautiful and Steve saw right through him.

" If you date her, promise me to never hurt her. She always looking out for everyone else, besides herself. She needs someone like you look after her" Steve would say. He kept reminding Eddie how much you needed someone to care for you.

Your parents haven't done much of being in your life. It felt like it was you and Steve until you met the kids and the rest of the gang. You felt like you belonged.

" I love her, Harrington" Steve chuckles.

" I know, Munson. My best friend deserves the world"

You truly did, you looked after the kids like a mother would. They called you the mother of the group. You had helped Robin get together with Vicky, the love of her life. You had helped Eddie with his deal sometimes. You had kicked Jason Carver's ass every time he picked on Eddie. You had tutored the kids in the classes they needed helping. You covered Steve shift in Family Video when he had a date. You had helped him move on from Nancy, but he still was hung up on her.

You looked out for everyone but yourself. You were last.

Eddie pulls you up from the ground as you clutch Steve's long yellow sweatshirt in your hands as he leads out of the house.

" I miss him" you say, closing your eyes for a moment.

" Who knew, Stevie after we both graduated that the basketball team would win a championship game" you teased. Steve rolled his eyes with a smile on his face.

" Very funny, bug" he playfully pushes your shoulder as he grabs a stack of films to put back on the shelves. " Heard you got a hot date tonight, Stevie?"

" He has been talking about her non stop, my ears a ringing from it" Robin says from behind the counter. Steve throws her a glare.

" Yeah? You really like her?" Steve shrugs. " She's nice" Robin snorted.

" Nice like nice nice or nice like you just want to get laid kinda nice?" Steve glares at you as he playfully hits you on the shoulder with the film in his hands.

" Could you not" he says, shaking his head. " Oh you know you love me, Harrington."

" Sadly I do" he says as he puts another film on the shelf and moving to the next one. " Excuse you?" you shoved him into the shelf. He groans as he rubs his shoulder.

" You know I love you bug, you're my best friend"

" And what am I, chopped liver?" Robin asks.

" We love you too, Robin" both you and Steve say together.

" I miss him too, sweets" Eddie buckles you in the passenger side of his van as he moves your hair behind your ear. He watches for a moment the way you look down at the sweat shirt like it was going to vanish. He runs to the other side after shutting your door and starts the van as he drive off.

He keeps looking you from time to time as he's driving down the road to your house. He has been to your house a couple of times for suppoingly study session, smoking together, watching a movie and when you cooked for everyone. He had not had hot meal in so long.

He parks the van in front of your car.

" Sweets" he calls out to you. You turn your head as you look at him.

" You're home" He motions to the house. You look at it knowing you were going to be alone and you didn't want to be alone.

" Can you stay with me?"

" Of course, sweets" he shuts off the van and makes his way over to the other side, bowing as he opens the door and holding out his hand. " M'lady" you can't help it but let the edges of your mouth lit up and grab his hand.

You don't let go off his hand and his heart flutters at your touch as you lead him into your house. The house is silent.

" Are your parents not home?" you shake your head, " Some trip somewhere" you shrugged heading to your room as you sit at your table looking down at the paper in front of it.

" Give it back!" you wined as you reached on your toes to grab your homework for English class from Steve. He waved it over his head with a smirk. He had read over your shoulder about your poem that you have written.

" Just admit it Y/N" you shook your head putting your hands on your hips as you glared at him. " No" you say jumping in the air to get the paper but he moved it to the other side.

" You can do better than that"

" Harrington, give me my homework" he laughs as he shakes his head." Not until you admit your secret crush" he wiggles his eyebrows.

" I like Eddie. Are you happy now?" you say throwing your hands in the air. He hands you your homework, satisfied with your answer.

" Very much" you swatted his chest with a small glare, " Jerk!" he gaped at you as he tackled you on the bed. Your homework forgotten as he raises his hands to tickle you.

Eddie takes off his jacket and vest as walks into your bathroom looking through various bottles to throw you a bath. While you hear him in the bathroom, your eyes drop on the piece of paper that was your homework and grab it shoving it into the little drawer you had.

No one but Steve knew that you liked Eddie. It was your secret he kept.

Eddie walks back out to your room.

" Come on, sweets" he holds both his hands out for you to take. Your eyebrow knit together but you take his hands and let him lead you into the bathroom. Your eyes drop onto the bath he had draw filled with bubbles.

It was the nicest thing that anyone had done for you since Steve.

" For me?" you asked. " You didn't need too" he waves his hand like it's nothing and kneels down getting some make up wipes and turns to you.

" No offense sweetheart but you look like a raccoon" he giggles as he points to your eyes in the mirror that is behind him. You shove him in the chest playfully and look into the mirror and indeed you had your make up running down your cheek.

He started to wipe away the make up that ran down your cheeks mixed with your dried tear stains, his tongue poked out as he focused on getting your make up off.

" Since when do you know what a make up wipe is?" you teased. He sticks his tongue out to you as he finishes it. He throws the used make up wipes into the small trash you had in your bathroom. You watch as he takes the hair tie from his wrist and holds your hair, tying it up into a messy bun.

He inspects his work like it's art he has done.

" Thank you" he closes his eyes as he turns around giving you the sign to undress and he wasn't going to peak as much as he wants to. But he respects you as he waits for your signal to let him know. His ears pick up hearing the water as you sit down in the bath.

The bubbles covering you.

" Eddie" you call out to him. He removes his hands from his eyes.

You looked so cute sitting there with your hair up in a bun. He has taken notices of Steve's sweat shirt on top of the sink. It's there for you as a way to have Steve with you still. Eddie doesn't press about it as he kneels down next to the bath.

His hand reach out for the loofa as he wets it in the bath and gently runs it over your bare back. Your arms wrap around your legs with your head down. Your eyes locked with his.

" Thank you" you say. It was a thank you for taking care of you when no one else took the time to check on you and do this for you. Steve used to give you baths too, he would wash your hair too when you felt like the world wasn't right or your mind was too much.

He continued to run the loofah on your back and down your arms. He didn't need to say anything else. He was going to keep his promise to Steve.

Eddie starts to hum as he washes you in the places he could, letting you soak in the water and taking the time to think about how Eddie was taking care of you. The water runs cold and Eddie help you get out with one hand covering his eyes that he wasn't going to see anything.

He puts the bottles he used away while you got dressed in your room with your arms still clutching onto Steve's sweetheart. Eddie walks back into your bedroom seeing you in a pair of shorts and the yellow sweatshirt is on you now.

He doesn't get jealous of the sight of the sweatshirt understanding this was your way of having Steve with you still. You patted the space next to you on the bed, Eddie crawls in with one hand under his head and the other opening for you to settle next to him.

You put your head on his chest, hearing his heart beat and feel his arm wrap around you as his fingers run up and down your arm in comfort.

Eddie didn't need to say anything else knowing you needed time and little actions like this. The same actions that Steve did for you, Eddie was going to do as a reminder that Steve never really left. He was still there.

You nuzzle your nose into his chest hearing his heart rate speed up, glancing down at the sweat shirt and looking up at Eddie who was already looking at you.

Your eyes let him know you were thankful to have him and he returned with his own answer in his eyes, that he was going to be there for you no mater what even if he had to cancel Hellfire to take care of you.

You were important to him.

" Promise me you'll find someone to be happy with. I can't stand you shutting yourself down like this. You deserve someone to hold your hand, to hold the door open for you, to take you on date etc. I see the way you look at the dates I have, the way others at parties look and I know deep down you want to be loved" Steve says.

He was right. You did.

" Who would go for someone like me? Someone like this?" you motioned to yourself. Steve shook his head, as he scoffed.

" I don't wanna hear you talk about my best friend like that. You hear me?" you nodded, giggling.

" You'll find someone Y/N, you're special and any guy would be lucky to have you as his. Trust me" Steve says. " Now help me with this mess" he motions to the spilled hot chocolate on the floor.

" This wasn't me" you giggled, pointing to it. Steve gives you a look with the rag in his hands and his hands on his hips. " Scours honor" you say crossing your heart. " It was Dustin" you pointed to the curly hair boy as he walk into the room.

" Hey what?" He says, stopping in his tracks. Steve shakes his head, " Fine. Out then" he says pointing to the living room. " Hey! I was-" Steve points to the living room again, scolding you.

You pout as you hang your head and just before you leave Steve tell you he loves you with a smile on his face.

" I love you too, even when your a pain in my ass " he rolls his eyes and that was the last time Steve told you he loved you and the following day you were gearing up to end it all with the Upside down to have you lose your best friend.

" Goodnight Eddie" you mumbled, staring into the darkness.

" Goodnight sweets" Eddie says as he places a kiss on top of your head. You swallowed the lump in your throat, " I miss you Stevie" you whisper into the air. Eddie hears you as he squeezes you.

A breeze of air kisses your cheeks feeling as if Steve has heard you making you shiver as you cuddled closer to Eddie. You turned to the other side to look out the window as a tear fall down your cheek.

How were you going to do this without your best friend?