Having English As A Second Language Means:

You can't make it with me! I just cried with this!

i don’t normally like writing imagines about the aftermath of freddie’s death, but ever since hearing ‘the place where the lost things go’ all i can picture is you putting your three children to bed, and your youngest (probably aged three?) asks “mummy, why’s daddy sad?” and you haven’t told them about fred yet, it’s only the following day since he passed, so you just smile sadly and say “he’s lost something very special to him.” and they ask if they can help him find it, and you can’t help but laugh at their innocence and as you tuck them in, your oldest (probably about ten?) just looks like they know. so, you start to sing a lullaby you made up for them when their grandmother died, and soon they drift to sleep as you stroke their hair fondly but when it gets to the last verse, you notice brian/roger/john leant against the doorframe watching silently. they haven’t spoken all day, just sat alone in your room grieving.

so, you change the lyrics, ever so slightly.

so when you need his touch,

and loving gaze,

gone but not forgotten is the perfect phrase.

smiling from a star,

that he makes glow,

trust he’s always there,

watching as you grow.

find him in the place

where the lost things go.

Heroes say goodbye to Tony Stark in Avengers: Endgame deleted scene

I know it was her father and Harrow who poisoned her, I just know. These sons of a bitch!

do not chastise the dove (3) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: you receive, perhaps, the worst birthday present of all: betrayal. 

word count: 6,543

warnings?: royal au, arranged marriage, assassination attempt, poisoning (nightshade), pet name (dove), not proofread

Continuar lendo

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" 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.

---

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?

---

I'm liking WandaVision a lot more than I expected, but I just can't wait to watch Falcon and Winter Soldier!

I'm ready to see the sassy between Sam and Bucky. I will live for the interaction between them, I just know it!

Oooh, and Loki!!! I miss the god of mischief!

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I can not wait for this! If you can, tag me, please. I don't wanna miss a thing! 😍

Coming Soon.

“BEST WEEK OF MY LIFE” (ROGER TAYLOR X READER)

Summary: After losing a bet, Roger has to be nice to you for an entire an entire week. He hated it at first, but he slowly begins to warm up to you.

Note: This will be out once I passed all my requirements, I’ve already started it, and this might be a series. So if you wanna be tagged please inform me!

Omg 😭😭😭😭😭😭 I to put Marc in a little jar and protect him from the evil of the world

do not chastise the dove (14) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: the king is exposed, the future is considered, and the past is revealed. 

word count: 4,582

warnings?: inaccurate depiction of legal proceedings, fluff, a little angsty, discussion of randall + wendy, discussion of did, pet name (dove)

Continuar lendo

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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. 

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