The Cuuuutest Thing!!
The cuuuutest thing!!
dead wrong — steve harrington x reader
summary: steve harrington is down horrendous for you, his best friend since he was a scrawny pre-teen. turns out, his love is not as unrequited as he thinks.
contains: best friends to lovers, mutual pining (but mostly steve pining), steve’s pov, fluff galore, idiots in love, reader is good with the kids, reader is a skater like max, reader hurts her wrist and steve is a worried lovesick idiot. cw! descriptions of wounds/blood, mentions of hospital, reader wears steve’s clothes. she/her pronouns used.
a/n: first long fic yay!! I am extremely proud of this so pls love it 🤍
fem!reader 5.3k words
gif by @barneswayne
Steve Harrington is totally, most definitely, not in love with you. Just friends, he thinks, best friends. Best friends who hold hands and sit far too close together.
Speaking of, you push further into Steve’s side, your scent washing over him. Your hand squeezes Steve’s, and he thinks, never mind. Maybe he is in love with you. So in love with you it fucking hurts.
A chorus of shouts erupts around him. You and Steve are watching Eddie, Robin and the kids play beer bong, only without the beer. It’s soda. Dustin starts doing a stupid victory dance while half of his peers laugh and the others cringe. Steve cringes. You laugh. All high and lilting and adorable. Steve has to remind himself to breathe.
He brings your joint hands to rest on his knee. Your rings push into his skin, almost like harsh reminders that he can’t hold you like he wants to. He frowns.
“Steve?” Your voice brings Steve out of his thoughts like it always does. You give his hand a shake. “You okay?”
Steve looks up and prays you can’t see the hopeless devotion in his eyes. You’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, with your messy hair and your eyes lined with glitter. Rosy cheeks, glossy pink lips that he stares a beat too long at. He’s known you for years, and yet he’s never gonna get used to how gorgeous you are. He swallows, forces his eyes up to yours.
“I’m okay,” he says, though he’s really not. He never is, because you never won’t look like that. “Are you?”
There’s another explosion of noise from the soda-pong players, but you don’t seem to notice. You frown like you don’t believe him. He’s being too obvious, he knows.
“Yeah, I’m good. Are you sure, Steve?” You stretch your free hand across your torso to touch his face. Steve heats like an oven under your hand as you press your palm to his forehead. “You’re not feeling sick, are you? You feel sort of hot.”
Steve grabs your wrist, harder than he means to. He loosens his grip guiltily when you give him an alarmed look.
“Sorry,” he says quickly, lowering your hand gently. He can feel your pulse, only just, underneath his fingers. It’s damn sure slower than his. “I— uh, no. I’m not feeling unwell. It is pretty hot in here though.”
A total lie. The only reason he’s burning up is you.
Your frown deepens, a push of your bottom lip that makes Steve want to kiss you. It’s such an overwhelming feeling that he has to blink multiple times to make it go away.
“Oh,” you say. You look around the room and then back at Steve. “Do you want to go outside?”
Steve has a bit of a dilemma. If he says yes, he’ll be alone with you. He can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing. If he says no, he’ll have to stay in this stuffy room with yelling teenagers and ping pong balls flying at him every five seconds. He decides on the first option.
“Sure,” he says as nonchalantly as he can. Then, to make you laugh, “Smells like boy in here anyway.”
You giggle. Steve feels like copying Dustin’s lame victory dance.
“You’re a boy, Stevie,” you say teasingly.
He wrinkles his nose at you. “No, I know, but it’s like … adolescent boy.”
You laugh loud, your mouth pulled up in a staggering smile. “Oh, okay,” you say, as if anything he just said made any sense.
Steve is starstruck for a second before you’re pulling him up from his seat, your hand in his a familiar, heart-aching weight.
Steve finds himself sitting side by side with you on the hood of his car. He can’t exactly remember how he got here — on the way, all he could think about was your hand in his and the fact that your thumb kept brushing over his knuckles in very distinct lines. Whether you’d meant to or not, he doesn’t know. He hopes you did.
“Any better?” You ask quietly, stretching your pinky across the small gap between your hands to tap his.
Steve feels something like an electric shock where your skin touches his. It baffles him, how such a tiny touch can cause such a big reaction throughout his body. He stares at your hand when he answers.
“Much,” he says honestly. He looks up at you. “You didn’t have to come with me, you know. You can go back in if you want.”
Secretly he hopes you’ll stay here with him forever. But that would be selfish, and if Steve is anything when he’s with you, it’s not selfish.
“Eurgh, no.” You pull a disgusted sort of face that makes Steve grin. “I could barely stand it when you were there. Without you, I think I’d die from the smell alone.”
Steve laughs. Really laughs. The words without you, I think I’d die, float around his brain like fish in a fish tank. When he’s done laughing he catches your smile, all pretty and wide, and his heart does one of those funny backflips that he’s never gonna get used to.
Steve watches as you brace your hands on the edge of the car and push yourself up the hood, pulling your shoes up to rest on the metal. Your skirt is short enough that Steve can see half of your thighs, more when you shift yourself like that. He stares for two seconds too long and then feels so guilty he almost apologises.
Instead, he says, “Aren’t you cold?” He points at your skirt but doesn’t look.
You shrug. “No, not really.”
With a sigh you let yourself fall back against the hood of the car. Your skirt rises even more and a half inch more of your skin is exposed — Steve feels like the universe is out to get him. His only escape is to fall back next to you, his right shoulder brushing your left one. You smile when he does, head rolling to the side to look at him. Face to face now, Steve can feel every small breath coming from your parted lips.
“See any stars?” He blurts, because your face is much too close and he’s scared if you look at him like that any longer, he’ll kiss you stupid.
You look up at the dark, empty sky and wrinkle your nose. “No.”
“Wait, look, there’s one.” Steve lifts his arm to point at what he thinks is a star.
You squint in its direction. “That’s a plane.”
“What? No it’s— oh.” He trails off when he realises the ‘star’ is moving. It disappears behind a cloud a second later.
You laugh, breathless and pretty, and drop your head onto Steve’s shoulder. Your perfume fills the air around Steve and he has to stop himself from leaning closer. You bring a hand up to fiddle with your necklace, a cheap, plastic ‘S’ charm that sits directly on your sternum. The fake diamonds are falling off, half of them gone already, but you’ve refused to take it off after all these years. Steve has one of your initial, too. You got them from a dollar store when you were twelve and pinky promised to be best friends forever.
You slip your necklace safely beneath your top and then stifle a yawn behind your hand.
Steve gives your elbow a nudge. “Tired?”
You shrug one shoulder and then droop further into Steve’s side. Every point of contact between you burns.
“You’re tired,” Steve says matter-of-factly.
You make a noise that’s probably meant to be a sound of protest but comes out more like a tired moan. Steve chuckles lightly, reaches over and rubs your arm.
“Alright, sweet girl. Let’s go home.”
‘Home’ really means Steve’s house, because you’ve left your car there and because you’re over so much it’s become your second home. By the time Steve is pulling up the driveway, you’re so dead beat he doesn’t even consider letting you drive yourself home. You practically hang off his waist as he walks you both inside.
“M’tired,” you mumble as you pass the living room.
Steve has to bite back a laugh. “Uh-huh, I can tell.”
You look up at him and squint like you know he’s laughing at you. Then you say, “Can I sleep in your bed?”
Steve’s heart skips. Sure, you’ve slept in his bed before, but every time you have Steve lay awake for at least half the night. He’s not above admitting that he’s watched you sleep more than once. He’s seconds away from telling you to take the guest bedroom when you pout dramatically.
“Please? You’re so warm.” You push into his side, your arm tightening around his waist like you don’t ever want to let go.
Steve hates himself for nodding, but he can’t help it. “Yeah, okay.”
He drags you up the stairs and into his room. Your makeup and stray jewellery is strewn across his dresser — you’d gotten ready at Steve’s before the party. If you could even call it that, Steve thinks. He plants you on his bed and you fall back immediately, eyes shut tight as your hair splays across the sheets.
“You’re like a zombie,” Steve says amusedly, his gaze all fond and mushy as he looks down at you. “From like, Day of the Dead or something.”
You pull a face, faux offended but your big grin gives you away. “Ew. I’m not that ugly, am I?”
Steve hums long and high like he’s thinking about it. This makes you gasp and throw a hand to your chest like he’s wounded you. Before Steve can get half a laugh out a pillow is hitting him straight across the face.
“Hey!” He exclaims, glaring at you. You’re still lying down, eyes screwed tight like you’re pretending you didn’t just brutally attack Steve. He laughs because you’re fucking adorable. “Zombies don’t throw pillows, Y/N.”
Your words are plagued by a yawn as you say, “This one does.”
Steve sighs at your antics, picks up your murder weapon (his pillow) and replaces it on the bed.
“Oh no,” you groan suddenly, like you’ve remembered something awful, hands flying to your face in despair. “My makeup, Stevie. M’too tired to take it off.”
Your words stick to each other like taffy in your tired state. Steve remembers the last time he let you sleep in your makeup. He didn’t hear the end of it for days. He’d rather avoid your wrath this time round.
Steve sighs, knowing full well he’s about to put his foot in it. “Well, will you let me do it?”
You open one eye blearily and look at him. “Would you?”
Steve shrugs, though the thought of being that close to you makes him feel nauseous. Luckily, you’ve closed both eyes again so he can blush all he wants. Plus, he’d do anything for you. Even endure the overwhelming urge to kiss you breathless.
“Sure thing, babe. I’ll get the stuff.”
Steve ends up sitting on his bed with you across from him, crossed legs pressing up against his. You’re sitting so close you’re almost in his lap. He ignores this for the sake of his dignity.
You’ve got your eyes shut and your hair up in a clip. A lock of hair has tumbled out of its knot and Steve pushes it away from your face, fingers hooking behind your ear and lingering. He keeps his hand on your jaw as he raises his other hand, a wet cloth ready to clean your sparkly makeup off.
“You sure about this?” He asks hesitantly. He’s dead terrified he’ll do something wrong, like get glitter in your eye.
You smile softly, your eyes staying firmly shut. “Yes, Steve, it’s fine.” Your tone is half reassuring and half exasperated.
Steve bites the bullet and goes right in, pressing the wet cloth to your cheekbones first. You’ve got blush and glitter there, sprinkled on your cheeks like fairy dust. He smooths the cloth along your skin and it comes away sparkly and pink.
“Okay?” He asks, pausing worriedly.
You nod slowly, your head starting to droop in his hand. “Yeah, Steve.”
Steve grins fondly at your face, screwed up in exhaustion. He tightens his grip on your jaw to keep your head steady, thumb hooked under your chin. Carefully, he begins to dab at your eyelids, also painted with silvery glittery eyeshadow.
Your face dewy and makeup-free, Steve thinks you’ve never looked prettier. So pretty it drives him mad. He stares, really stares, for far too long but he’s worried if he opens his mouth, breaks the silence, he’ll never get to see you like this again. Your hair all messy pretty, your eyes shut and eyelashes kissing, your pink lips turned in a half smile.
He’s not surprised when your soft voice drifts into his thoughts.
“You done?” You open your eyes, eyelids heavy and head heavier.
Steve snaps out of it. He lets go of your face quickly, slides off the bed even quicker.
“All done,” he says, almost tripping over his own feet.
You smile, seemingly oblivious to his clumsiness. Or maybe, it’s just happened so often that you’re not surprised. Either way, your smile is sickeningly sweet. Steve is torn between the desire to kiss you or run as far away as possible from you.
Your voice matches your honey-smile when you say, “Thank you, Stevie.”
You reach out to touch his forearm, your hand a heavy weight on his skin as you wrap your fingers around his arm and squeeze.
He grins lopsidedly, and he’s sure he looks like a lovesick idiot but he can’t find it in himself to care. “You’re welcome.”
You drop your hand and Steve’s arm suddenly feels cold as ice. He wants to touch you again but knows he shouldn’t. He strides to his bedroom door and pauses to turn and look at you.
“I’m gonna get you a glass of water,” he says. Your eyelids are drooping again. He laughs fondly. “Get in bed while I’m gone, zombie-girl.”
Your giggle follows him all the way to the kitchen.
When Steve gets back, a glass of water in each hand, you’re still as a statue on your self-appointed side of the bed. You’ve swapped your outfit for a grey t-shirt that you totally stole from him but deny every time he asks about it, and the shortest shorts known to mankind.
He switches off the light and shuts the door with his heel. Pointedly avoiding looking at your bare legs, he rounds the bed and sets the water down, then bends over you.
“Y/N?” He whispers.
You hum softly, though Steve can’t tell if it’s a hum of acknowledgement or just a sound you’ve made in your sleep. He leans closer, listening to your breathing. You’re awake, only just.
He brushes his hand over your upper arm, touch as light as a feather. He thinks he feels goosebumps on your skin but doesn’t have time to wonder why. You’re lifting your chin slightly, lips parted.
“Goodnight, Stevie,” you whisper, so quiet he barely hears you. Steve’s heart swells. “Thanks for … everything.”
A few moments later you fall silent and your breathing grows steady, and Steve wonders how the hell you always fall asleep so fast.
He rubs your arm, kisses your forehead because he knows you won’t remember this part. His lips buzz as he pulls away. “Goodnight, sweet thing.”
-
You’re outside Family Video. Steve emerges from the back room and spots you so fast it’s like he’s got a third eye. He’s both shocked and pleased — he hadn’t expected to see you until after his shift.
You’ve got the kids with you. You and Max are zooming around the carpark on your skateboards while Dustin and Lucas are poised on the hood of your car, poring over comics.
He watches you skate with Max. Like some lame rom-com cliche, your hair is blowing in the wind and Steve swears you’ve moving in slow motion. You’re laughing and joking with Max and Steve stares and stares. Stares until Robin sidles up next to him.
“What’re you— oh.” Steve can hear the smirk in her voice even though he refuses to look at her. “What’re they doing here?”
Steve shrugs and makes an ‘I don’t know’ sound, moving to the counter to put down the box of videos he’s carrying. Robin follows.
“You’re not gonna go say hi to Y/N?” Robin asks slyly. Steve can hear in her voice what’s coming. “You’ve been staring long enough.”
Steve blushes furiously despite himself. “I wasn’t staring.”
“Oh, sure.” Robin hoists herself onto the counter, peers into the box of videos and picks one out at random. “Just like you weren’t holding her hand on Tuesday night?”
Steve can’t exactly get himself out of that one. He snatches the video from Robin with an annoyed tsk, slotting it back into the box. Her laugh is devilish.
“You are hopeless, Steven,” she says, whacking Steve over the head as she hops off the counter.
Steve rubs his head and glares at Robin. If looks could kill she’d be dead meat. “That’s not my name.”
Robin gets this look on her face that Steve knows all too well. He wants to pummel her before she’s even said anything.
“Oh, sorry,” she says, all sarcasm. “What is it, then? Stevie?”
Steve’s blood boils. Only you’re allowed to call him that.
“Y’know what, Robin?” He says loudly. He turns on his coworker, seething. She’s totally nonchalant, a stupid smirk on her lips. “Why don’t you just leave me—?”
“Steve!”
A shout of his name from the door. He turns and finds Lucas standing there, looking panicked.
Steve’s brow furrows. Then he notices you and Max are no longer whizzing around the carpark. “What—“
“Y/N fell,” Lucas says, out of breath. “We think she hurt her wrist.”
Steve’s heart drops. “Shit.”
He goes flying out the door and into the parking lot. You’re sitting on the concrete, one knee pulled up to your chest, your skateboard dormant next to you. Max is kneeling over you, and Dustin has graciously abandoned his comics for your sake.
“Y/N!” He damn near shouts. He runs over to you and Max and gets on his knees. He’s probably just ruined his jeans on the concrete — he doesn’t give a single fuck.
“Y/N,” he says frantically, a tentative hand landing on your shoulder. Both your knees are scraped something awful and a nasty gash blooms on the outside of your wrist. Steve’s worry is loud and his heartbeat twice as much. “Y/N, are you okay? What happened? What’s—“
You look up. Your eyes are shining but you’ve got a dopey smile on your lips.
“Steve,” you say breathlessly. You blink and a tear falls from your eye and over the bump of your cheek. “Hi. Good to see you.”
Steve stares at you in horror. How can you be making jokes at a time like this? You laugh wetly and Steve looks at Max, totally alarmed.
“What happened?” He demands.
Max is much calmer than he is. “She went over a bump or something,” she says. She’s rubbing your back and Steve feels a rush of gratitude for the younger girl. “Fell on her left arm. Her wrist might be sprained or broken, but—“
“Broken?” Steve repeats. He’s pretty sure his soul just left his body.
“I said might,” Max says through her teeth.
“Y/N?” Steve slides his arm around your shoulder, carefully avoiding your left wrist, which you're cradling in your uninjured hand. “Y/N, baby, can you get up?”
You make a noise like a scoff but it’s muffled by your sniffly nose. “‘Course I can.”
Steve helps you anyway, Max on your other side keeping a firm hold on your jacket. You hiss as you straighten your legs, knee-wounds sprouting fresh blood. Steve bites down on his lips so hard he almost bleeds himself.
“Are you gonna take her to the hospital?” Max asks. There’s genuine worry in her eyes that Steve barely sees. Dustin, Lucas and Robin appear, looking equally worried.
Steve puts on a brave face. “Think so. What do you think?” He asks Max. “You’re the skateboard expert.”
She grins so quick Steve almost misses it. It disappears when she looks at you in your bloody and bruised state. “Yeah. Just in case.”
Steve walks you over to your car, half dragging you. Not that you need him to, he just can’t bear for you to hurt any more than you already are. He deposits you in the passenger seat, ducks his head in to pull your seatbelt across your torso. He’s seconds from ducking back out when you stop him, your uninjured hand on his chest, right over his racing heart.
“It hurts,” you say, quiet enough that only Steve can hear. Your eyes are welling up again. Steve feels like crying himself.
“I know,” he says, nodding vigorously like it will make a difference. “I know, sweet girl. It’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be okay.”
At this point he’s talking to himself as well as you. You nod in an exhausted sort of way and Steve presses a kiss to your cheek. Slow and soft and as close to your lips as he’s ever kissed. He has to take a few seconds to compose himself before straightening up and turning to the others.
“I gotta take her,” he says, sending an apologetic grimace in Robin’s direction.
Robin nods once and surprisingly, doesn’t say a word. She looks about as sympathetic as Steve has ever seen her. He turns to the kids.
“Help Robin,” he says. He’s trying desperately to make his voice sound normal but falling short of the mark. Everyone notices but nobody comments. “Don’t mess up the store.”
He gives a grateful smile to Max and then rounds the car, hopping in and starting the engine.
-
You’re half asleep on Steve’s couch, your head in his lap. You’re wearing his yellow sweater — the one he bought only because you’d said he’d look good in yellow. You’ve just woken up from a post-hospital nap and Steve’s hand is in your hair, brushing slow strokes over the side of your head.
He’s feeling a lot of things. Relieved, for starters. The doctor had said it was only a sprain, they’d bandaged up your wrist and you’d left the hospital in far better conditions. Steve was in far better conditions, too.
Steve looks down at you, at your bandaged wrist and the huge bandaids on your knees and thinks, fuck. He thinks his heart is about to claw its way out of his chest. He doesn’t think he can take this love thing any longer.
You stir and take a long breath, turning your head in Steve’s lap to look up at him. Your eyes are tired but you’re smiling.
“You okay?” Steve asks softly. He doesn’t want to break the silence. It feels good, to sit in silence and comfort with you. He runs his fingers through your hair again.
You nod. “Mhm. I’m good.”
“Hurting?”
You shift in his lap. “No, not right now.”
You fall silent and Steve doesn’t know what to say. He wants to tell you how worried he was about you, but you could probably tell. Anyone with a pair of eyes could tell he was nauseous-level worried. Then he thinks about telling you he loves you. It’s a stupid reason, really, but it was all because a nurse had asked if he was your boyfriend. He’d wished he could say yes.
“Steve?”
Steve hums and meets your eyes. You move to sit up and Steve helps you, knowing you won’t let him stop you. A firm hand between your shoulder blades, his palm sliding down your back as you straighten yourself. You shift so you’re facing him, your legs crossed beneath you and your injured wrist resting in your lap. Steve is careful to avoid your wounded knees.
“What is it, babe?” Steve asks quietly. He brings his hand up to caress your cheek, dragging his thumb over a spot where your tears had smudged your mascara earlier.
You melt into his hand, eyes falling shut as a long, deep sigh falls from your lips. You raise your good hand to cover his, holding it to your face. Your hand burns stars onto the back of his.
“Is it your wrist?” Steve asks. You’re acting strange. He puts it down to your injured state. “Your knees? Do you want more ice? New band-aids?”
He’s being a total worrywart, he knows, but who can blame him?
You shake your head, eyes open but cast down. “No.”
“Just feeling bad?” He asks through a frown. In a strange parallel to a couple of days ago, he lifts his free hand to press his palm to your forehead. You feel warm but not hot.
“It’s …” you start, then trail off. Both yours and Steve’s hands fall to your lap.
Steve’s concern spikes. You’ve never been one to hide anything from him. “Yeah?”
“Um, it’s … it’s silly but—“ You take a deep breath and let your eyes raise to Steve’s. You get a look on your face Steve doesn’t quite understand, but it makes his heart leap to his throat anyway. “You know today, when that nurse asked us if you were my boyfriend?”
Steve laughs embarrassedly, too loud and too sudden. So you’d been thinking about that, too. He pulls his hand away from your lap and rubs the back of his neck.
“Yeah, that was kinda weird, wasn’t it?” He says, though it wasn’t really. Almost every new person he meets thinks you’re dating him. “I was—”
“I wanted to say yes, Stevie.”
Steve stops talking abruptly, his mouth slamming shut. He hadn’t really known what he was about to say, anyway. He searches for words but all he comes up with is a garbled, “What?”
You laugh, all soft and slow and distorted by fatigue. You raise your hand to rub your neck, a mirror of Steve only a moment ago.
“I wanted to say yes,” you repeat, like it’s obvious. Even the second time, Steve doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. His chest feels like it’s on fire, worse when you say, “I want you to be my boyfriend.”
For once in his life, Steve has nothing to say. He gazes at you like you’re some sort of angel on earth. Maybe he’s dreaming. Maybe he’s in some cruel dream and he’s about to wake up with his chest aching.
“I …” Steve‘s voice catches on the words. His throat burns so he mustn’t be dreaming. He tries again. “Y-You … you do?”
He’s not even embarrassed by the stuttering. Just when he didn’t think he could be any more in love with you, you giggle. He was dead wrong. His heart grows about three sizes too big for his chest.
“Yeah, Steve,” you say, fondness smothering your fake exasperation. “Do you … do you want me to be your girlfriend?”
What Steve wants is to kiss you. He wants to kiss you til you can’t breathe and then some more after that. Silently, he takes your injured wrist in his hand and gently shifts it so it’s out of the way, resting on the couch cushions. Then he grabs your face, fingers splayed over your jaw and neck. He can feel your pulse. It’s almost as quick as his. He leans so close he can hear every breath you’re taking.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over yours. “That okay?”
You laugh a giddy, breathless laugh, surprised at his suddenness. “Please do.”
He slams his eyes shut, darts forward to kiss you and fucking misses. Your noses bump. A surprised giggle bubbles from you and Steve goes red.
“Wait, I’m sorry—“ He tries again, tilting your head to one side and angling his head to the other. This time it works perfectly, and your giggling is swallowed up by Steve’s mouth, lips fitting together like they were made for each other.
You sigh and go all melty and Steve’s heart skyrockets. It feels like everything in the world is falling into place. It’s years of longing, eternities of lingering touches and offhand compliments and longing glances all rolled into one life changing kiss. Your good hand has jumped to Steve’s chest, first bunched in the material of his t-shirt and then spreading over it, palm atop his wild heart. He thinks he might die on the spot. Or like, catch on fire or something.
Steve is losing breath but he won’t stop just yet. He drops his hands to your shoulders and pulls away a hair’s breadth. Then he dives back in for one, two, three kisses that you respond to with all the eagerness in the world. Your kisses are so lovely they make him light-headed.
When Steve pulls away (for oxygen, nothing less) you chase his lips with yours. He laughs, all fondness. He’s dizzy with love.
“Woah, hold your horses, cowboy,” he says through a woozy laugh. He’s finding it hard to speak. He barely hears himself. For all he knows, he’s talking in an alien language.
“Sorry,” you whisper, not sounding very sorry at all. “So … was that a yes?”
Steve has to laugh. He can’t help it. “Are you kidding? Yes, Y/N. That was a yes. I—“
He’s rudely interrupted by someone banging on the door. He thinks he knows who it is. Only one person he knows knocks that hard.
He sighs morosely but he can’t keep the grin off his face for very long. “I’ll get it.”
He heaves himself off the couch and makes for the front door. You stop him before he gets very far, a hand in his bicep.
“Wait, Steve.”
Steve turns, puzzled. “Yeah?”
You’re lifting your chin up, lips parted. Steve knows exactly what you want.
His grin grows impossibly wider as he bends at the waist to kiss you once, chaste and slow and just as perfect as the kisses shared moments ago. When he pulls away you’re smiling so big he’s worried you’ll get stuck like that forever. He wouldn’t mind.
Another round of banging from the door. Steve sighs, squeezes your good shoulder once and then marches to the front door, just about ready to kick the intruder off his front porch. He opens the door and finds his suspicions were correct. It’s Dustin.
He’s holding a handful of flowers that look suspiciously similar to the ones that grow in Steve’s mom’s garden.
“Those for me?” Steve asks. He shoots his arm out to stop Dustin from barging in, hand gripping the door frame.
Dustin pulls a face. “Ew. No, they’re for Y/N.” He steps aside and more kids appear, plus Robin and Eddie. Eddie’s van has been parked haphazardly in Steve’s driveway. “Can we come in or are you gonna stand there and guard the door like that all night?”
“She’s tired.”
“But we bought chocolates.”
“Well—“
“Dustin?” You call from the living room. Oh, great. Now Steve’s gonna have to let them in. “S’that you?”
Dustin beams and gives Steve an expectant look. Steve drops his arm with a defeated sigh and Dustin goes marching in like he owns the place. Max, Lucas and even Mike follow. Mike, who never shows up to anything. Though Steve shouldn’t be surprised. You’re Mike’s favourite, out of the older ones.
Eddie comes next, then Robin, who stops to give Steve a grimace.
“Sorry,” she says wryly. “They really wanted to see her.”
Steve shrugs good-naturedly. He’s on cloud nine and much too happy to care all that much. He follows Robin into the living room and finds everyone crowded around you, Max on your side and Dustin getting down on one knee to present you the probably-stolen flowers like you’re the Queen of England. You look the same as Steve feels — kiss bitten and with your head in another world. But you’re pleased by the company, he can tell.
Dustin moves to give you one of his bone-crushing hugs and Steve goes all panic mode.
“Please be careful with her!” He says urgently, his panic obvious under the usual demanding tone he takes with the kids.
But you’re laughing under Dustin’s hug, and Steve can’t stay mad when you look like that. You meet his eyes over a mop of curly hair and your gaze goes all mushy and sweet. Steve’s legs feel like jelly. If he keeled over dead right now, he wouldn’t be surprised.
He’s sure someone will see but he doesn’t really care. Grinning from ear to ear, he mouths, “Love you.”
He’s said it before, of course he has, you’re his best friend in the whole entire world. This time though, it’s all the more different. It’s better. You flush, oblivious to the noisy chatter around you.
“Love you too,” you mouth back.
Steve can’t stop smiling for the rest of the night.
thank you for reading! feedback is appreciated!! reblog this and I’ll kiss you on the mouth mwah
More Posts from Yaskna and Others
Ben’s ‘death’ fucking destroyed me because everything about it was so heart breaking and perfect. Him possessing Klaus then getting to hug and say hi to Diego?? All of season one him getting mad at Klaus for wasting his life?? All of that then him giving up his to save his sister. All for love. And then making damn well sure Klaus knew it wasn’t his fault he stayed so long.
In conclusion I love Ben Hargreaves with all my heart and soul.
NOOOOOOOOO 😭😭😭😭😭😭
FUCK GOJO! I DON'T WANT HIM! TOJIIIIIIIIII, DON'T GO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
I'm a very spiteful person. I can't just forget everything that Gojo did or said and that's why I can't accept Y/N staying with Gojo.
WOMAN, YOU HAVE TOJI RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU. So what if you have a daughter with Gojo? Do the minimum to make her happy, but stay with Toji!!!!!
I'm devastated. Toji is so mature, but I don't want it. BE SELFISH, MAN. THAT'S NOT PROBLEM 😭😭😭
Sundered 8: BRAKES
Pairing: Gojo x reader
• Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | …+
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments
word count: 6.7k
a/n: have not proofread 😭
But sometimes, the best isn’t what our heart wants; the perfect isn’t what our heart seeks.
“Did you find it?” Before Satoru could even answer, you came jogging in. Your gaze shifted between him and Toji, curious as you noticed the awkward silence that took over when you approached. Or…has it been there before you came? “What is it?” You asked, puzzled. Walking inside, your eyes met Satoru’s. He shook his head, giving a small smile before answering.
“Nothing. Toji was just saying that we should check Yui’s things to make sure we didn’t forget anything else.” You could see his Adam's apple bob up and down, eyes half blinking. “Well yeah, I did. Her extra shirt was still on the hanger. I ironed it earlier.” You walked past him, smiling at Toji before you jogged upstairs, making the two men relax.
“Y-yeah, of course. I could free my schedule, just tell me the details.” Satoru’s voice was much lower; quieter when he was sure that you were out of earshot. Toji nodded, blinking as he took a deep breath. “I’m glad you didn’t tell her.” Satoru doesn’t know why he hid it from you, but he felt like it would only worry you.
But could he really not tell you about it? He doesn’t want to lie to you.
“You know, it could only worry her; she probably doesn’t even trust us in the same room together.” He added as if sensing Satoru’s doubts. He’s got a point, but still, Satoru wants your relationship to be transparent. Yes, he still hasn’t told you about what happened with Naomi and his mother but that’s a different case.
“Just send me when and where.” Satoru took a deep breath, pulling out a calling card before quickly handing it to Toji as he kept an eye on the hallway to make sure you didn’t see any of it. “Though, she probably won’t be happy about not being informed of this-” Footsteps can be heard as you appear with the clothing item in your hand.
“Why didn’t you go to Yui? Let’s go.” You gave Toji a quick kiss and goodbye before walking out the door, looking back at him just to make sure that he was already after you. And he is, but not without glancing at Toji who only nodded at him. “I was waiting for you, I could see the car from there.” He explained, opening the car door for you.
“Yaaaay Mama! Dada!” The little girl put her hands up, opening and closing her chubby fingers, “Nummy!” She squealed louder as Satoru wiggled the pacifier in his hands, legs kicking as she desperately tried to grab it. “What’s my name?” He tried to keep the object away from her.
“Toru! Dada Toru!” She pushed on her chair, trying to move closer to her dad. Satoru laughed, letting her take the pacifier in her small hands. “Here’s your Nummy.” He cooed before putting on his seatbelt, ready to drive. You looked at him through the rearview mirror, meeting his gaze for a split second before you looked away.
“What is it?” He asked you, raising his brows as he drove. You shook your head, “Nothing, I was just…I was wondering if you and Toji get along well now.” You didn’t really want to ask this to Toji because he still gets grumpy at the mere mention of Satoru’s name in your conversations, which can’t be helped since they’re almost always about Yui.
“I think…” He let out a small laugh at the end of his short answer. For a second, he thought about telling you of his conversation with Toji but— ‘It could only worry her.’ His words reverberated in his head, making him bite his lip, waiting for your reaction. “Okay. It’ll get better, I guess.” You let out a large breath, lightly slapping your thighs with your hands.
“I’ll… I’m really trying to be less annoying to him. I know that it’s uncomfortable for the both of you.” He was trying to find the right words to assure you. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s threatening your new relationship. Your new happiness.
“And that he probably doesn’t even want you around me even for a minute and that’s why I was saying that we should lessen—” You turned to look at him, making him pause as he quickly glanced at you. He was worried that he may have said something wrong or hurtful to you. That’s the last thing he wants.
“Satoru.” You licked your lips, feeling bad that he was probably feeling the same way you did when he was still with Naomi. Probably much worse because he’s also regretting so many things at the same time. “We don’t have to do that. We do it for Yui, I could talk about it with Toji. I will.” You start to look back on how your ‘talks’ with him went.
But if it’s for Yui, you’re determined to make him understand and make all of this work.
“We can’t give Yui the family she deserves.” The words tasted bitter on your tongue as you leaned your elbow on the car window, massaging your temple. “But I don’t want her to feel that.” Thinking about the time scares you; how fast it goes, how quickly it changes. You fear that you’ll wake up one day and you won’t have answers to her questions.
“Hey…” You felt a hand on yours, noticing the car stop. You turned your head at Satoru, only noticing how blurry your vision has gotten. “You’re already doing so many things for her. She won’t feel that. That’s why I’m still here. You don’t have to shoulder this alone even if we’re not with each other.”
In Satoru’s head, he doesn’t like that you’re not with each other. But if that’s what heals you from everything he’s put you through, then so be it. But that doesn’t mean that he won’t be there for you; only heaven knows how much he wants to give you everything if only you allow it.
But he’s not that lucky anymore.
It took you a minute to snatch your hand away, probably just needing the warmth that it provided you in that vulnerable time, but you still did. “Sorry,” He murmured as you turned away, wiping under your eyes quickly. “Did you have breakfast? I’ll get us something.” He cleared his throat, thinking about how Toji probably cooked breakfast for you.
“I’ll just have coffee–“ You sat up straight, getting cut off by your baby as she struggled to get out of her seat. “Mama! Ma!” She whined, kicking her feet as she reached up to you and pointing outside. “Do you want something, Miss?” Turning her attention to Satoru. “She wants to go inside.” You spoke, removing your seatbelt.
“Alright, come on.” You stepped out of the car to get her, letting Satoru take her small bag. She squealed at the drawing of the cartoon on the wall, making you kiss her cheek. “That’s why she wanted to go inside.” Satoru laughed, letting you walk in first. Greeted by the employee as you scanned their menu, your daughter started pointing.
“Such a cute baby,” An old woman beside you said, “Looks very much like the Dad.” She laughed, making Satoru pat the little girl’s head, proud. “Thank you, Ma’am. She’s a mini of him.” You joked, allowing the old lady to play with your child as you conversed with the employee.
For some reason, the interaction made you feel warm. It’s been a while since you felt like this when going out with them. You used to avoid these situations with him due to how things were, but lately, your guard’s been down around him. Maybe it’s because you can see with your own eyes how much he changed.
If only he was like this before, would things have been better?
“How old is she?” The old woman’s voice sounded far, drowned by your thoughts. “She’s 2, ma’am.” You could feel Satoru’s hand on your shoulder, snapping you out of your trance. Your eyes met his, overflowing with concern as he tried to keep a conversation with the woman until she left.
“You ok?” He spoke, adjusting Yui on the baby seat. “You zoned out earlier.” He made sure to pull the chair for you before going to his. Shaking your head, you gave a small smile, “It’s nothing, just trying to recall if I packed everything she needs.” It wasn’t convincing, but Satoru felt like he’d be meddling too much if he asked further.
Maybe he really should not add up to the things you’re worrying about.
———————————————————
“What is it about?” Satoru’s fingers tapped on his jeans, nervous as to what his baby mama's boyfriend was about to ask him. He was worried that it’d have something to do with the time he spent around you. Satoru isn’t sure if it’s possible to reduce that since you have a daughter.
“You know, to be honest, I just want to know how you see things.” Toji started, putting down his mug. “I know what happened between you and Y/N before I came along but I want to know what you were planning to do if I didn’t appear.” Satoru was confused as to why he was asking all of it but his brain started to think back to it, nonetheless.
At that time, he was thinking about marrying Naomi. He saw it as an assurance that he was doing so much better; convinced that she was truly the one for him. Spending a year with her, he was sure that she was the better person for him. What with his daughter calling her mom, he thought that maybe it could put an end to most of his problems with you.
Recalling all of this just made him realize how much worse things could’ve been.
Seeing the pain in your eyes the moment those hurtful words came out of his mouth set all of these plans on fire. You looked shattered; like the tiniest glimmer of hope in your eyes died along with your aching heart, hearing that the man you love regrets everything he had with you.
It almost felt like stepping so abruptly on the brakes that he hit his head from the impact. When you crumbled in front of him that day, you were bare to Satoru. All the feelings, all the pain that you held in your heart were presented before him.
Satoru remembered thinking about why you were like that with him, why you acted indifferent. 'She has always loved me this much. She was just hurt.' And it broke him too. A couple of days after that, he tried. He tried to tell himself that it was just the emotions, that it was just the guilt eating him up and that’s why he couldn’t see anything but you.
But he caught himself thinking about how he’d like to put you back together again piece by piece if he was given a chance.
He didn’t think too much of it; just a poor interpretation of his feelings towards your pain. He thought about his loving girlfriend, he reminded himself that there was someone who willingly put up with him when he was a mess. That’s how it always went. That’s how he pushed the thoughts of you away. With her, her words, her touch, her body.
But it’s never enough when he thinks about how you probably cry yourself to sleep at night, thinking about why you weren’t enough to get the same treatment that he was giving her. That’s when his plans started to falter; like a building threatening to crumble, dust began to shower down on them.
The day he went to your house, he found himself fixing his collar, and his hair, thinking about the words to say to you. And if you’re not there, he thought of ways to get to you. But there Toji stood. With a smug look on his face and marks all over his neck that scream “I just fucked the girl you dreamt about last night.”
That day he wanted to ask him directly what the fuck he think he’s doing, but that wouldn’t seem right, knowing that Satoru’s nothing but a baby daddy to you. That day was a deja vu. All the events that happened between the two of you are being shown to him, and it seems like he’s feeling the pain threefold.
After that, Satoru tried. He tried to tell himself that he just got upset because of how disrespectful Toji was acting. He just couldn’t stand that he acted as if he owned everything in that place, even flexing the hickeys you gave him the other night.
He thought that was the worst he could see that day but for some reason, seeing you in that shirt with marks on your collarbones triggered something in him. A question he didn’t see coming popped up in his brain and along with it was the guilt that he felt for his girlfriend:
Am I too late?
The next thing he knew he was getting up and getting ready for when you pick Yui up from his place. He caught himself pulling at his clothes and pushing his hair back as he waited for you to open your door; like a teenage boy waiting for his crush. He denied himself that he wanted to look good; to look better for you.
Until it all sank in; until he couldn’t handle it any longer. Each time he sees you with Toji, doing things that you should be doing with him, he gets pushed a bit more. He was already getting pulled back towards you again even before he came along but now that he’s beside you, it felt like Satoru’s spiraling back to you at the speed of light.
Then, that night happened. When all the bands that he used to stop himself snapped.
“I would appreciate it if we could be honest with each other. This could greatly affect the decisions I’m about to make.” Toji’s serious voice interrupted Satoru’s memories. He blinked, clearing his vision of him. He stared at the cup with a grim expression, which made Satoru realize the weight of the conversation.
This is not just a conversation, Satoru thought, licking his lips before speaking again.
“I’d…Back then, I was denying what I wanted. I…I was trying to get her back. Not just to make up for all that I said and done.” He rubbed his palms on his pants, seeing Toji lean back on his office chair. “I had a girlfriend, then. Naomi. I didn’t really want to admit to myself that my heart wants to get back with Y/N when I’m with someone so good to me.” He shook his head.
Satoru’s disappointment and anger about what happened between him and Naomi felt like a ton on his chest. She was a good woman to him and it’s true, but thinking about how everything aged; he can’t even bear the thought of her and his memories with her. It’s just sad that it had to end that way.
He can’t help but to blame himself for the actions that she took. He could’ve written a better ending for them.
Satoru heard Toji sigh as he straightened his legs under his table, crossing his arms as he nodded for Satoru to continue. “Then, you appeared. And I don’t know. I don’t even know how it happened but everything that I was feeling about her was rushing into me faster than it used to and maybe…” Satoru panted, shrugging as he gestured with his hands.
He couldn’t believe that he was really talking about this to his baby momma's boyfriend. “It just got me desperate. I told myself I was too slow and I lost my chance and I really did but…” He looked at Toji, wanting to convey his sincerity. “I just want her to be happy. I feel like all I did was ruin things for her. I don’t want to ruin what she has with you.”
It was a tough thing to say for Satoru. The words felt like shards of glass in his heart. It’s not what he wants but if it’s what he must do then he’ll do it. Toji’s silence got him wondering if he was pissed or relieved that Satoru was aware that he was not getting you back as long as he was there. But in Toji’s mind, that’s not the case.
“So you’re saying that you wanted to get her back even before she got with me?” He blinked slowly, trying to comprehend Satoru’s words. “I thought you only started to want her back because you don’t want to see her with someone else.” He didn’t bother filtering the words. He can’t think of a better way to put this.
“It’s always her. Even if I end up with someone else, I need her to know that I had always wanted it to be her.”
Toji didn’t think that Satoru would be this transparent to him about his feelings towards you. There was an eerie look in his eyes as he stared at the open window, a defeated look plastered on his face.
“If I didn’t enter the story, would you still be doing all of this for her now?” Satoru’s eyes were back at him, nodding as he sat straight. “Yes. It would probably take longer than it did but I’m sure that I was bound to fall back into her at some point.” Toji’s brows furrowed, trying to think of what the situation would be like if it were like that.
“Weren’t you planning to marry Naomi?” Satoru chuckled bitterly, considering it another poor and rash decision that he made. “I was. Before I fought with Y/N.” Before he found that small light of hope in your eyes. Before he realized that not all of it was lost.
Toji laughed, rubbing his face with his palm as everything that had been going on sank in. He’s talking with his girlfriend’s ex. And he’s telling him all of this. Like it’s the most natural thing to do. He sighed, swallowing as he bit his lip, feeling himself getting agitated by the second.
“I know I said I’d appreciate honesty, but I didn’t think you’d actually say all that to my face.” He chuckled bitterly, recalling every sentiment he just said about you. “I’m her boyfriend. Her new man.” His chest heaved, blinking to allow himself to calm down. He’s the one who asked for this to happen, so why’s he the one getting pissed now?
“What do you want me to say?” Satoru’s voice was calm, looking away from Toji’s piercing glare. “You should’ve just told me to fuck off and stay away, though the latter one’s not possible because Y/N and I have a child.” Satoru sat up straight, as if getting ready to be kicked out. Toji’s jaw tightened visibly at the words.
Not because they’re insulting but because they’re right.
That’s what he wanted to do. He thought that if he couldn’t get you away from Satoru then maybe Satoru could just stay away from you. But obviously, it isn’t just some responsibility for him. Satoru isn’t the type of guy to just send money for his child. He’s not the type of guy to be just happy that his child knows he exists somewhere.
He wants to be present; to be there for Yui and watch her grow. He wants to be with her but of course, your circumstances wouldn’t allow that. Maybe this isn’t as easy as Toji thought it’d be and that’s what makes him mad.
“Toji, I know we’re not on the best of terms with each other, but what are you trying to get with this?” Toji didn’t like how he asked it. It made him sound like a villain and that’s the last thing he wants.
Is he getting so desperate that he allows himself to seem like one? “I agreed to this without knowing what you’re planning to do, I’m just here to be honest to you. Really.” Satoru wanted to ease the tension between the two of them for your sake.
He knows that you’re still very uncomfortable with the two of them being around each other and that you’re also thinking about how to make it better. He thought that this “conversation” would help.
“Do you really love her? Or did you just learn to love her for your child?” Toji gave his all to sound composed, scratching the edges of his thumb with his index finger. “I don’t remember telling myself that I have to love her. I just know that I love her.” Toji could hear his teeth grind against one another; his frustration starting to surface.
“Look, if you want to hear from me that I am not trying to take Y/N away from you then, I’ll just say that.” Toji remained silent, forgetting what this meeting is supposed to be and how it’s supposed to go. He’s bothered by this ever since he fought with you, but he cannot let that cloud his mind of what he would deem to be right.
And obviously, that’s not what’s happening right now.
“But you can’t tell me not to love her when even I myself can’t control that.” You weren’t lying when you said that this man changed a lot. It felt like this is the most mature Toji’s ever heard him talk.
“To feel that is one thing but to act upon it is another and I don’t plan on doing that.” Satoru wondered if you’ve been arguing about this with him, probably why he’s like this. He remembered your problem with him constantly mentioning his wife in whatever you do but after that, you never really told him anything about it anymore.
He didn’t try to pry even when it felt like your mind was always somewhere else because he didn't want to seem like he’s taking advantage of the situation.
“Well, it’s good that I don’t have to remind you.” Toji murmured, tilting his head as he furrowed his brows. Looking away, he pulled at his collar with his finger. The man in front of him looks nothing like a threat. Yet, he can’t find it in him to let it go.
Probably because deep down, he knows that this is not a one sided problem.
“I won’t ask you to stay away from Yui. I’m a father too. I just needed to hear this all from you, Satoru.” He opened a drawer, taking out a packet of cigarettes before putting one between his lips. The fire from the lighter lit up a portion of his face, inhaling only to let out smoke from one side of his mouth. “Why?” Satoru asked, leaning back.
“I don’t know. So, I could do better I guess?” Toji chuckled, making the other man’s brow bump with each other; not with anger but with an irritating confusion.Just as he was about to ask, Toji answered his question. “We didn’t fight. There’s just nothing left to do about it. Guess we gotta put extra effort.”
With that he stood up, signaling that he’s already over this conversation. And Satoru sat there, still in the dark with his intention. Does he have some kind of mic here that recorded what he just said? Satoru doesn’t care.
What he said was the truth, and it would be too funny to suspect Toji of some kind of evil plan when he’s literally the one who got heated up.
“I hope to work with you better, Satoru. After all, we love the same woman.” With that, he walked to the door to leave but not before Satoru could say a word. “Just take care of her for me. I’m sure she wants it from you.” It came out softer than he intended to. He looked down at his hands as they played with one another; defeated.
He didn’t hear a sigh from Toji. The sound of the door closing was the only signal that he already left. Clicking his tongue, Satoru stood up before running his fingers through his hair. He wonders if it’d be right to ask you about your situation with Toji. He wonders if you also want him to adjust.
He wonders if he’s just a nuisance in your life right now. Like how he made you feel before.
————————————————
“She should start when she’s like four. Or five.” Toji put Yui’s bag down on the couch as they ran around him. The kids were still not tired enough to calm down after a whole day of swimming. Their cheeks are all red from the sun and you mentally noted to put aloe gel on her face before bed.
“Megumi will start next year?” You asked him, hearing a hum as his gaze followed the two kids who ran to your daughter’s room. “‘Gumi we’ll be going in a few, don’t fall asleep!” Toji called to the little boy who only stared at him from a distance before turning away. You felt a pair of hands pull you as Toji sat you on his lap.
“Did you have your own fun too?” He teased, squeezing your thigh as he kissed your cheek. Your mind went back to the other day. It has been a while since the two of you did it due to busy schedules. You admit that you felt like you and Toji are still being extra careful with a few topics but this past few days was a breather.
“Mhm, definitely did.” You whispered to his lips, feeling his teeth bite your bottom one as he kissed you. You don’t know when it started but things started to feel a bit different between you and Toji and you don’t know if it’s because he’s starting to drop his worries for you and Satoru or if it’s because he’s just tired of thinking about it.
You were gonna talk to him regarding that but this weekend kind of assured you that it’s all going fine. As for you, you’re trying your best to adjust. You told yourself a thousand times that you had to think about Toji too and not just yourself but for some reason, you still find yourself questioning how you should do some things.
That’s not a good sign but you thought that maybe you could just take one step at a time. Toji’s making adjustments for you and you can’t just let him do all that work. The only thing you’re fearing is if it’s gonna burn out the two of you sooner or later.
It’s not that your relationship with him is not sturdy, but it’s still young. There are still so many things that the two of you might go through. You’re afraid that all of these are just taking a toll on both of you and one blow from a different direction might just take you down immediately if it ever lands.
Toji stayed for about half an hour before calling Megumi who definitely fell asleep on Yui’s bed. Meanwhile, your little girl was sitting beside her big bear, whining about the burns on her face, begging you to call her Dada.
“We’ll just put medicine on it, okay?” She stomped her little legs, pulling at your shirt to pick her up. “It’s because you won’t let me put sunscreen on your face properly earlier.” You clicked your tongue, letting her sob on your shoulder. “Dada…” She wiggled in your arms, a small hand holding her cheek.
“Just give Satoru a call. Or get him to come over. She probably misses him.” Toji picked his son up. The latter option shocked you a bit because you didn’t expect him to actually suggest the man he’s so uncomfortable with to come over and be around you. Even if it’s not for you, you still didn’t see it coming out of his mouth, especially after all the fights you had.
“They’ll meet in a day, anyway so it’s—” You started but he cut you off by talking to Yui. “Dada will come over, it’s okay. Stop crying.” The toddler’s cries softened to sniffles as she looked up at him. His hand patted her head, before turning to you to give you a kiss on the forehead. “She needs him right now. You know how kids are.”
The gesture made you feel a bit sad. You’re aware that this is not about the two of you but still, you know how he is when it comes to Satoru being with you. “You shouldn’t hold back if that’s what Yui needs.” You shouldn’t hold back if that’s what you need. He wanted to tell you that as well.
He remembered asking you casually about how you were with Satoru. Of course, you found it weird and got worried. You kept saying things to comfort him to which he quickly reassured you that it wasn’t like that.
“Of course, I did.” You told him, swirling the liquid inside the sippy cup. You wouldn’t look up at him the whole time. You placed it beside the other cup before moving to sit beside him. “We had a rough time, but it wasn’t always like that.” There was a hint of nostalgia in your voice; a mix of melancholia and fondness for the lost time.
“Why did it become like that?” He leaned on his elbow, fixing the ornaments in front of him. “Because of the rush, I guess. Bad timing.” You shrugged, drumming your fingers on the marble counter. “We just became parents. We didn’t have time to become lovers.” You chuckled half-heartedly.
“But I know I did.” So, Satoru wasn’t lying when he said you were in love. “Have you ever wondered if… if it’s just because of the responsibility that you share?” He prodded further, feeling like he was having the watered-down version of the conversation that he had with Satoru. Something he apologized to him for 2 weeks later.
“Probably at first. All of it is just for Yui. But at some point, I just found myself looking forward to days with him.” You sighed, staring blankly as you probably tried to recall more memories. You quickly looked at Toji, realizing the words that came out of your mouth. It’s not supposed to be like that. You’re not supposed to speak like that.
“Did you ever—” He began but you’re quick to cut him off, getting more and more worried about his behavior. You’ve been having open talks with each other, deciding that it might help with the crack in your relationship with him but this still makes you feel anxious. Because what if you hurt him again? What if something you say makes it worse?
“Are you alright? You keep asking unusual things.” You jokingly put your hand on his forehead, making him grab your wrist as he pulled you to him. “Hey, I was just curious. I want to do better.” He kissed the back of your neck. It’s true that he wants to do better for you. Hell, he wants to be the best for you.
But sometimes, the best isn’t what our heart wants; the perfect isn’t what our heart seeks.
“Alright, I’ll try to contact him. I doubt he’d be here, though. It’s a work day, I don’t really want to bother him.” You squeezed his hand reassuringly before walking with him to the door. Megumi’s small arms were wrapped around his neck as he bid you goodbye for the day.
You wanted to ask him if it’s really okay with him but you reminded yourself that if it’s for Yui, it doesn’t matter if it’s not okay with anyone. “Text me when you get home.” You told him after he put Megumi in his seat. “Yeah, love you.” He kissed your lips once more before getting in his car and driving away.
You watched his car disappear, rubbing your baby’s back as she started to whine again. “Alright, we’ll call him.” You walked back inside, spotting your phone on the coffee table. You kissed Yui’s cheek as you dialed Satoru’s number. It rang twice before you heard his voice from the other line.
“Hey, everything okay?” You ignored the way your heart swelled at how alert he was to your calls. You figured that he’s probably working, "Dada!" Yui called to him, kicking her little feet and making you grab them. You put the phone on speaker "What's wrong, love?" Satoru's voice was full of worry because of how his daughter cried.
"She got sunburnt. She was swimming with Megumi earlier and now it's starting to sting." You pushed her hair back as she tried to take the phone from you. "Are you busy? She keeps asking for you. I didn't want to bother you but—" Without letting you finish your sentence, you could hear the chair scrape the floor. "Don't think like that. I'm never too busy for Yui."
"Would it be… Is it ok if I come over? I'll get ointment on the way." You could already hear the car keys and you pictured him walking out of his door and to his car. "Yeah, it's fine. Toji actually suggested that because Yui won't stop crying. Thank you." A small silence can be heard from the other end.
"I'll be there in a few, text me if you need anything else." After that, he lets you hang up the phone, waiting patiently for you say something. "Dada will be there. Stop crying now, you weren't crying earlier." You checked her face, feeling bad that she has to pay for having fun. But you think the blush that it left on her cheeks are cute.
After a little while, a knock on the door pulled you away from your phone. Even though, you already know that it's Satoru, you still peeped through the hole just to make sure. The night his mom stormed in your house and threatened fo take your child away was still vivid. You don't want Yui to see something like that again.
"Da!" She immediately cried when she saw him, reaching for her father to take her. "Hey, why? Where's your ouchie?" You saw a couple of bags in his hand as he took the crying child. "I brought you guys something, I thought you might not have had your dinner yet." He sounded shy, taking the smallest bag.
“Oh, thank you. You should eat with us, sorry for calling so abruptly. She’s being fussy.” You smiled at him, not missing the fond sigh that escaped his lips. “It’s nothing, it’s a win-win situation.” He jokes, tickling the little girl’s belly which caused her to erupt into laughter.
“Let’s put this cream on your face so it doesn’t hurt, alright?” You watched the two of them sit on your couch and all of a sudden,that’s the highlight of your day. How he removed his shoes when she asked him to lay down, how he listens to her almost incomprehensible rants, how he gently applied the ointment on her cheeks, producing the most beautiful giggles.
It almost felt like a normal family, resting after a long day of staying out. With her favorite show playing, you watched her look up at her father just to make sure he’s watching the same thing. And he’d go and nod, talking to her like it’s the most serious thing in the world.
“You should eat with us.” You found yourself saying as you wiped your hand. You reminded yourself to text your boyfriend as you turned away, feeling wrong for how you feel but how can you not feel that way when the scene you used to dream of just came alive in front of you?
Maybe you’re just tired. Maybe you just wanted the comfort of your bed. Maybe you just want to not think about it, maybe it’s better to ignore these feelings because there are other things you should be feeling right now. Like wanting to see Toji and be with him. You shook your head, setting up Yui’s table.
And there he comes, with your daughter in his arms, wearing one of the house slippers you left under the couch. “Can I borrow these?” He chuckled and you could feel the stretch on your cheeks from how small they look on him and suddenly, it’s just the three of you again. Eating under the warm kitchen light, talking about your daughter.
Like how you always wanted it to be.
——————————————————
“Just take care of her for me. I’m sure she wants it from you.”
Toji pursed his lips as Satoru's words reverberated in his head. He knows nothing, he thought, glancjng at you from the mirror. You were busy checking Yui's bag, completely unaware of the thoughts of the man in front of you. Toji has been selfish before. But his head was clear enough to finally judge things with deep consideration to the external factors.
Any man or woman wants nothing but to work things out for their family. But sometimes it just gets too much for them. But for some, they just need time. And he doesn't know how to feel when he thinks about how you and Satoru probably just needed time to fix yourselves as individuals for the relationship to work.
Even though Megumi already understands that his mom will never be home. There are still instances where he would ask Toji about her and by that, he could tell that his son's wishing for her. Whenever you'd do something for him, he would say "Like mom?" and he don't want you to know that not even the smile on your face could ease the searing ache in his chest.
“What do you think about getting back together with Satoru?” The question already escaped his lips before he could even think. Your eyes snapped at Toji, looking at him like he just said the most obnoxious thing. You walked to him, stopping his hands to do his tie yourself.
“Why are you suddenly asking about that now?” You counted back to the first time he was talking about you and Satoru.“Nothing. I mean, he mentioned that his mother’s never around him anymore. Isn’t she like the bane of your relationship with Satoru?” He peered down at you, curious as to how you’d react.
Toji didn’t mean to ask it so abruptly, but he knows that he has to talk about it sooner or later. He knows that the both of you are trying and your relationship shouldn’t be this hard if only adjusting comes so naturally.
He knows that you put in a lot of effort just so he wouldn’t feel insecure and overthink. He also knows that sometimes it just shows, you’re probably just denying that to yourself. He’s also too aware of how the both of you would tread carefully around the topic of his wife.
“I don’t want you to feel like you can’t miss her or talk about the things she does.” You told him that once but still, Toji can’t help but feel bad when those days come and he knows that he’s not giving his full attention and mind to you.
“I’m literally in a relationship with you, stop asking if I—” You tried to chuckled it off, brushing the palm of your hands on his chest to straighten the fabric but Toji caught them. “What if this isn’t working?” He sighed, squeezing your hand as if it will lessen the weight of his words.
You don’t know if you’re hurt that he probably wants to end it or if you’re hurt that there’s a hint of truth behind his words. “What are you saying?” As if suddenly coming back down to reality, Toji shook his head and pulled you close. “I think I woke up too early, come here. Sorry about that.” He kissed your forehead but didn’t take away your worried face.
“Toji you can’t just say that and expect me not to overthink.” You don’t know if you’ve prepared yourself enough for this possibility. It would hurt you if you’ll lose such a good man in your life. “I’m…I don’t know if I still feel comfortable, or if I’m just getting used to it Y/N. I know you try, you do it so well, baby but,” He took a deep breath, pausing.
“I don’t think I can continue like this. I don’t think we should continue like this.”
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do not chastise the dove (11) ✧ 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 are saved. but it’s not over quite yet.
word count: 2,492
warnings?: vague descriptions of fighting bc i can’t write fight scenes lmao, angsty, a shorter chapter, pet name (dove)
Continuar lendo
" 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.
👏
Hum... I don't know what it means. Babe?
Your fifth most recent emoji is what your soulmate thinks about you
REBLOG IF YOU THINK MARVEL IS FOR GIRLS TOO
trying to prove a point to my dad
Omg, I caaaaan't. Eddie is the cutest boy! And Wayne being protective and caring. My heart just melted reading this
My Favorite Person | e.m.
A/N: This author is a sucker for a good slow burn and what could be slower than that which spans a whole freakin decade. I mean, who doesn’t love baby love? Also, the prices of the toys mentioned in this fic are based on actual toy prices from the ‘70s bc I did a ton of unnecessary research for this.
Thank you so much @mxcheese for beta-reading this!! You’re the best!
CW: potentially inaccurate portrayals of children’s conversations, brief mentions of Eddie’s shitty father, two curse words (i think???), heavy idolization of Dolly Parton, the reader’s dad is kind of a jerk to Eddie
Eddie watches you skip joyously around your fourth grade classroom, handing out the invitations for your birthday party this weekend. He’s already made peace with the fact that he isn’t going to get one this time around. Your party’s at your dad’s house this year and, due to his dad’s reputation, he isn’t exactly welcome over there. So, the way he sees it, Eddie stands about as much of a chance of being invited to your party as he does getting a date with Faye Dunaway. Despite his resigned acceptance, he can’t help but feel jealous of your other friends.
Eddie tears his gaze from you and puts his head down on his desk, using his crossed arms as a make-shift pillow. He tries to think about something other than you and your stupid birthday party, conjuring up guesses as to what his dad might serve for dinner tonight and picturing what it might’ve looked like when the mean aunts got flattened by the peach in James and the Giant Peach; the latter causing him to giggle to himself. However, Eddie’s thoughts are soon interrupted when he hears a familiar voice call out his name. Almost immediately after, he feels a tiny finger gently poke his shoulder as the smell of your apple-scented shampoo fills his nostrils.
Eddie lifts his head up out of the dim fortress created by his arms to see you standing next to his desk, smiling at him sweetly. Only then does he notice how your braids have begun to unravel and your jumper has gotten a bit of dirt on it, most likely from the exhaustive play you did at recess. He resists the sudden urge to look down at his own clothes, wondering if they got as dirty as yours did today. Probably dirtier, he thinks.
“Hi, Eddie,” you greet him cheerfully, “you wanna come to my birthday party?” You ask simply, albeit with a slight lisp due to having recently lost one of your front teeth, as you hold out an invitation to him.
“Really?” Eddie asks in disbelief as he hesitantly accepts the invitation from you, half-expecting you to yank it back from him and announce that you were just kidding.
“Yeah, of course! Just don’t get me a present that costs more than ten bucks; my daddy says that’s the only rule,” You explain, causing his eyebrows to furrow.
“Why not?” He asks.
You shrug, “I dunno, something about him not wantin’ other parents to spend all their money on me.”
“Oh, okay,” Eddie doesn’t really get that, but he nods anyway.
“So, you’ll come?” You ask giddily.
“Yeah, if my dad says I can,” He replies, causing you to flash him a grin that’s just about a mile wide, a grin that he couldn’t help but reciprocate.
“Great! I’ll see ya then!” You exclaim blithely as you start skipping back to your desk. He still wears that grin on his face as you go.
In fact, that grin doesn’t leave Eddie’s cherubic, freckled face until later that afternoon, when he comes home to find his uncle sitting at the kitchen table wearing a somber expression and nursing a mug of black coffee, his dad nowhere to be found.
“Uncle Wayne?” Eddie asks as he drops his backpack off by the door.
Wayne sighs, rubbing a hand over his scruff, “Hey, kid.”
“Where’s dad?” Eddie asks curiously.
“Your dad’s in a little bit of trouble right now, so I’m gonna be lookin’ after you for a little while,” Wayne informs him as he offers him a sympathetic smile.
Eddie, however, seems a bit apathetic about the whole situation, simply asking, “For how long?” This is the third time his dad has skipped out on him this month alone, so he’s not really phased by his sudden disappearance.
“I don’t know, pal,” Wayne says truthfully.
Eddie’s brow furrows, “I got invited to a party today. I was gonna ask dad if I could go,” he informs his uncle.
“Yeah? Whose party?” Wayne asks, offering his nephew a happier smile. His smile gets just a bit wider when Eddie tells him that it’s your birthday party. He’s well aware of who you are; you’ve been friends with Eddie for a while now and he can tell you come from a good family. Or, at least, he knows that your mom’s a good lady, she’s offered to take care of Eddie many times when his dad’s gone off to do god knows what without him. Unfortunately, Wayne’s had to take her up on that offer far too many times for his liking, but she’s never minded.
“If you still wanna go, that shouldn’t be a problem, bud. Her mom’s place is only a short walk away after all,” Wayne informs him.
Eddie nervously chews at the collar of his shirt, only stopping temporarily to say, “‘S not at her mom’s. It’s at her dad’s.”
Shit, Wayne thinks.
“Can I still go?” Eddie asks, his rich brown eyes silently pleading to his uncle to say yes.
How could Wayne ever refuse him?
“Yeah, bud, you can go. I’ll take ya,” Wayne tells him and, despite having just learned about his dad ditching him once again, Eddie’s face lights up with a brilliant smile.
“Thank you, Uncle Wayne!” Eddie exclaims as he wraps the man up in a warm, grateful hug.
Wayne chuckles, “So what do you wanna get her, kid?”
The question catches Eddie off guard as he was in the middle of internally celebrating that his uncle said yes.
“What?” Eddie asks after pulling away from his uncle. Wayne gets up from his place at the kitchen table and drops his now empty mug off in the sink before turning to lean against the counter and look at Eddie.
“You got any ideas for what you’re gonna get her for her gift?” Wayne asks.
Eddie begins to panic. In his eight year old mind, this is the end of the world; he finally gets invited to a birthday party and doesn’t even know what to get the birthday girl.
“W-what- What do kids like her even like?” Eddie asks as he begins to nervously wring his hands together.
“What d’ya mean? She’s your friend, kid, surely you’ve gotta know what kind of stuff she likes,” Wayne says as his dry, cracked lips curl up into an amused smile.
“I just- I don’t- She already has so much. I mean, she gets two Christmases, you know? What if I get her something that she already has?” Eddie asks, his face scrunching up adorably as he looks up at his uncle.
Wayne chuckles, “Yeah, I know, bud. You know, you could always ask her what she wants,” Wayne offers as he moves back to the dinner table and slowly lowers himself back into his seat, Eddie mirrors him as he moves to sit in the seat just across from him.
“But then she’ll know exactly what I’m gonna get her. Doesn’t that kinda ruin the surprise?” Eddie asks, causing Wayne to sigh.
“Fair point,” Wayne pauses as he eyes his nephew carefully, “What’s the toy we kept seein’ on tv around christmas time? The one with the doll that drinks and stuff?”
Eddie snorts humorously, “Baby Alive?”
“Yeah, yeah, that one. We could get her that.”
“Too expensive, there’s a ten dollar gift limit,” Eddie sighs.
“Says who?” Wayne laughs in disbelief.
“Her dad,” Eddie grumbles.
“What kind of dad puts a dollar limit on his kid’s birthday presents?” Wayne scoffs. Eddie simply shrugs in response.
“Well,” Wayne trails off before continuing, “does she like to read? We could get her a book.”
“I- I don’t know,” Eddie sighs. He does know, you love to read and you’ve told him that many times before, but his mind draws a blank under pressure.
“I’ll tell you what… How about you do some investigating this week, find out what kinda stuff she wants. Then, when I get paid on Friday, we can go to the toy store and see if we can’t find something that she might like. How’s that sound?” Wayne asks.
“Okay,” Eddie sighs.
“Yeah? Sounds good?”
“Yeah, that sounds good, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie confirms.
“Alrighty then, use those detective skills and report back to me, alright?”
Eddie does just that. For the next four days at school, he pays extra special attention to you. So much so, that you’ve begun to take notice. Sometimes you think you can feel those rich coffee brown eyes on you and every time you catch his gaze, the abrupt flush of his cheeks lets you know that you’re right. At first, you chalk it up to him being excited that he got invited to your party. After all, the two of you didn’t get to celebrate it together last year because you’d gotten your tonsils removed a week before your birthday.
However, when you continue to catch him looking at you later on in the week, you begin to worry. And, given the fact that you’ve yet to fully learn social cues, you decide to confront Eddie on it. On Friday, after school dismissal, you catch him on the bus, sliding into the seat next to him before anyone else can take it. He suddenly looks up at you, his eyes widening slightly in mild shock.
“Hey,” you said somewhat breathlessly as you had to sprint to the bus after nearly getting on the wrong one; you were forgetful like that sometimes.
“Hi,” Eddie replies hesitantly.
“Did I do somethin’ to upset you?” You ask abruptly, catching Eddie off guard.
“W-what d’ya mean?”
“You’ve been lookin’ at me a lot, but not, like, talkin’ to me or anything. Are you mad at me or somethin’?” You ask innocently, your head quizzically cocking to the side a bit as you look at Eddie. In that moment, you remind the young boy of a puppy dog, all curious and cute.
“No! No, I’m not, I swear. I just,” Eddie trails off with a sigh, pulling his shirt collar up to his nose to hide his embarrassed blush before shyly admitting, “I don’t know what to get you for your birthday so I’ve been watching you to see what you like.”
“What I like?”
“Yeah, ya know, what kind stuff you like to do for fun and stuff like that.” He explains, his blush now spreading to the tips of ears as he lets his shirt collar slide off his nose before catching it in his mouth so he can gnaw on it nervously.
You giggle and he finds himself wondering if someone can actually die from embarrassment.
You nudge him gently with your elbow and smile at him sweetly, “Eddie you already know all that stuff!”
“Y-yeah, but I just, I don’t know what you want,” He sighs, “I don’t wanna get you the wrong thing or somethin’ you already have.”
“You could’ve just asked me what I want for my birthday, silly billy.”
“I know, but I didn’t want you to know what I was gonna get you beforehand.” He explains and you giggle some more.
“You really are silly, Eds. I would’ve just given you some general ideas, not told you exactly what to get me! I’m not dumb,” You tease.
“Oh, r-right,” Eddie stutters.
“I s’pose you don’t really need to anymore now that you’ve been spying on me,” You tease him some more.
“Well, I didn’t really come up with much. I mean, at best, I was thinking about getting you a new bookmark,” Eddie admits sheepishly.
“Well,” You trail off, thinking of some options to give him, “I like drawing, so you could get me a coloring book or stuff to color with. I also really, really like playin’ board games, so you could always get me one of those. I already have Candy Land, Boggle, Mouse Trap, and Operation, so don’t get me those games. Or you could get me a new doll, my brother ripped the heads off a few of mine, so I need to get some new ones,” You ramble on about gifts that he could get you for the majority of the bus ride home while Eddie just stares at you with comically wide eyes, desperately trying to follow along.
Finally you inhale a big breath, slightly winded from your incessant talking, and flash him a warm small. “Really, you could get me just about anything and I’d still be your best friend for life, Eddie,” You inform him.
“For life?” Eddie asks, tone laced with uncertainty and disbelief.
“Mhm. Forever and ever, amen,” You reply while doing your best imitation of a pastor on sunday morning; your tone a theatrical combination of pomposity and nobility. Eddie giggles in response.
All too soon, the bus turns onto your street and pulls to a stop near the curb. You let out a dramatic sigh, disappointed that your conversation is, in your opinion, cut short, before flashing Eddie a smile so bright it nearly blinds him. “I’ll see ya tomorrow!” You remind him cheerfully before hopping up from your seat, grabbing your backpack, and rushing off the bus with all the other kids that live on your block.
The scent of apples stays with him until he gets off the bus at his own stop later on. Even then, he swears he can still smell it a little bit. In a way, that smell actually helps him remember what you’d told him; he mulls over the ideas you’d given him as he walks the rest of the short distance to his trailer.
Eddie wouldn’t mind having a best friend for life, especially if it’s you. He remembers that, keeps it in the back of his mind as he coaches his uncle on what to look for at the toy store during the car ride there. Technically, he doesn’t know exactly what he wants to get you yet, so he simply tells Uncle Wayne to keep an eye out for something that fits any of the suggestions you’d given him. At that, Wayne can’t help but feel like he’s in over his head.
When he was a boy, Wayne would gravitate more towards sports, mostly baseball, so all of these modern toys and games were really unfamiliar territory for him. Nonetheless, Wayne tries his best to find something that you might like because he can tell how important this is to Eddie.
They’ve only been perusing through the aisles for a measly fifteen minutes when Eddie spots the gift. An art set chalk full of all the supplies a kid could ever hope for, water colors, a few brushes, a tiny pad of multi-media paper, oil pastels, colored pencils, and even a vast array of markers, all contained in a cardboard case that’s been painted to look like it was made out of a rich, earthy wood. It’s perfect. Art class had always been your favorite in school and you’d even mentioned wanting some colored pencils to him, so it certainly checks all of his boxes. Even better, it’s only seven bucks.
Score.
Eddie’s practically vibrating with excitement as he rides back home with his uncle, hand tightly clutching onto (and crinkling) the roll of treasure map wrapping paper they’d also picked up at the store. You’re gonna love this, he knows you will. He can’t wait for you to open his present tomorrow.
When Eddie gets home that night, he sets in search of the second part of your present; a tiny little elven figurine that came in one of the boxes of mismatched toys, individuals missing from their sets, that Wayne had gotten from a garage sale a few years ago and gifted to him for his birthday. Last summer he’d shown it to you while the two of you were playing on the playground situated at the front of the park, and the sight of your eyes lighting up with wonder as you gazed at the figurine has remained engraved in his memory ever since. It’s one of his favorite toys, but he's willing to part with it so long as he gets to see that gleeful expression of yours again.
The next morning, Eddie wakes up bright and early to start getting ready for your party. He’s practically buzzing with excitement as he quickly wolfs down a short stack of smiley-faced pancakes prepared by the world’s greatest uncle, Wayne, for breakfast.
Said uncle chuckles at his nephew’s giddy excitement as he frantically searches for the perfect outfit to wear to your party, finally landing on the navy sweater that he had worn to picture day this year and his nicest pair of blue jeans. He then makes you a card out of some plain white paper, decorating it with the generic-brand crayons that Santa got him for christmas and taping it shut with the Fred Flinstone sticker he’d gotten at his latest doctor’s appointment. Eddie finishes the card in the nick of time, as not long after he’s put away his crayons, Wayne’s calling his name to let him know that it’s time to go. He grabs your presents and rushes out to Wayne’s car excitedly.
Wayne follows him out, shutting and locking the door behind him, before sliding into the driver’s seat. Eddie tries his luck at sitting in the passenger seat, but Wayne flashes him a disapproving expression and motions for Eddie to sit in the back. The young boy sighs and reluctantly climbs back there before buckingly up. Wayne then turns the key in the ignition and peels out of the makeshift driveway in front of their trailer.
The drive to your house isn’t terribly long, at least not by rural Midwestern standards. Your dad’s place is situated in the outskirts of Hawkins, so Eddie has the absolute pleasure of getting to see all the cows and horses roaming the pastures on the way there. Wayne, however, is sort of desensitized to the wonder of livestock after having lived in Appalachia for most of his childhood.
“Hey, did you know cow farts are bad for the ozone layer?” Eddie asks, offering a random, not fact prompted by the sight of the roaming cattle. Of course, it’s not entirely true, but it’s close enough.
Wayne snorts humorously, “You know, son, can’t say that I did.”
After passing a few more pastures and cornfields, the two finally arrive at your house, only to be met with the sight of a long, narrow, gravel driveway which leads past a dense patch of spruce and pine trees and up to a house with pretty blue siding. Eddie’s never seen your dad’s house before, so he’s pretty shocked at the sight that greets him. While your home certainly isn’t as big or ornate as some of the houses clustered in the local neighborhoods, it’s still pretty nice, and the plot of land it sits on is much bigger than he was expecting. Frankly, Eddie’s a little pissed that you didn’t tell him you lived on a Christmas tree farm. Not to mention, he’s starting to get the impression that you’re filthy stinkin’ rich.
Little does he know, your grandpa bought this once undesirable plot of land for dirt cheap back in the 30s and spent years fixing it up, even building that quaint little house that you call home with his own two hands. Truthfully, the house’s only luxuries are the octagonal above-ground pool your dad installed in the backyard a couple of years ago and the few acres of land that it sits on, though most of it is taken up by the rows of spruces and pines. Other than that, it’s really nothing more than a modest little ranch house, nothing too out of the ordinary for rural Indiana.
However, in Eddie’s eyes, if this is the kind of luxury that carpentry, with a side of tree farming, can get you, then he now knows exactly what he wants to be when he grows up. He even tells Wayne as much while he’s driving up the long driveway to your house, to which the man huffs out a laugh.
“A carpenter, huh?”
“Yeah, like that Jesus guy,” Eddie says nonchalantly to which Wayne lets out a proper laugh.
He’s still laughing as he pulls into the patch of short, sparse grass where the other parents have parked their cars. When Wayne unbuckles his seatbelt and turns the key, taking it out of the ignition and shutting the car off, Eddie’s filled with a mild sense of dread.
“What are you doing?” He asks his uncle as he unbuckles his own seatbelt.
Wayne looks back at him in the reflection of the rear view mirror with an expression of sheer confusion. “I’m gettin’ out the car, what’re you doin’?” Wayne asks teasingly, causing Eddie to sigh.
“Uncle Wayne, please, don’t. I promise, I’ll be fine by myself,” Eddie pleads.
“Nuh uh, I’m coming in, bud, at least for the first few minutes,” Wayne refutes. The man just wants to look out for his nephew. He knows why Eddie’s never been allowed to come over here before, knows how your dad and the rest of the adults in this godforsaken town feeling about all who carry the Munson family name, so, the way Wayne sees it, he’d be an idiot not to be apprehensive about how your dad and the other parents might treat Eddie when he’s not around.
“C’mon,” Eddie groans exasperatedly.
“C’mon,” Wayne mocks him, “I paid for that gift, the least you could do is let me see the look on the birthday girl’s face when she opens it.”
“Fine,” Eddie grumbles.
“‘Sides, having you around all these trees is a hazard, someone’s gotta make sure you don’t try to climb one and break your arm again,” Wayne teases as the two of them hop out of the car, shutting their doors behind themselves.
Eddie flashes him a look of pure annoyance as they begin to walk up towards the house, “That’s not funny.”
Wayne grins, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling with the change in his expression, “It’s a little bit funny.”
Eddie rolls his eyes before walking up the few concrete stairs leading to your tiny front porch. He walks up to the front door and rings the doorbell politely with his free hand, the other one holding your gift, Wayne follows his lead. Your older sister answers the door and, honestly, Eddie and Wayne are both extremely grateful to be met with the sight of a familiar face.
“Well hey there, Sunshine,” Eddie greets her warmly by her nickname; it’s an ironic nickname, one given to her by your mom the minute she hit puberty and morphed into a mass of pure teenage angst.
Despite her perpetual moodiness, she flashes the two of them a warm grin before calling out to you, “Hey, dweeb, Eddie’s here.” She then invites them both to come inside.
Eddie barely makes it two steps past the threshold of the front door when you suddenly emerge, seemingly out of nowhere and adorned in a nice, pink dress that your mom had made for you and a cowgirl hat that, despite being the same color as your dress, is too glitzy to actually match it. Just as suddenly as you appear, you’re abruptly flinging yourself onto him, wrapping him up in a warm, albeit tight, hug. He stumbles back with the sheer force of it, but Wayne reaches out and steadies the two of you before you can go tumbling to the ground.
“You made it!” You cheer excitedly.
“Happy Birthday,” Eddie says as he reciprocates your embrace with the same level of enthusiasm, his face lighting up with a grin that seems to stretch from ear to ear.
“Hi, Uncle Wayne,” You greet his uncle politely while releasing Eddie from your crushing embrace.
You then grab one of the young boy’s hands and begin to pull him into the other room while saying, “C’mon, everyone’s downstairs. My dad decorated our basement to make it look like one of those dance halls you see in the movies, the ones with all the square dancing, and it… looks… amazing!”
You practically drag the poor kid down the stairs as you excitedly ramble on about all the decorations and party games that your dad and his girlfriend set up for your party. Wayne and your sister aren’t far behind, following you downstairs; the sound of children chattering away and country music softly playing in the background fills their ears as they descend down the stairs.
“This party has a theme?” Wayne asks your sister. All the birthday parties that he’s ever been to have been just that, a birthday party; nothing more than a cake and maybe one or two party games just to keep the kids entertained. This party, however, is impressively elaborate; from the detailed decorations to the surprisingly on-theme games, you’ve even given each kid a cowboy hat of their own to wear, though none of them are as ornate as yours.
“Yeah, she’s been begging my dad for a Dolly Parton-themed party for months now, he figured a hoedown-themed one was a good compromise,” She explains, causing Wayne to chuckle. Really, he should’ve expected that; you’ve been obsessed with Dolly ever since you heard Coat of Many Colors on the radio a couple summers ago.
As you and Eddie run off to go join your other friends, your sister leads Wayne over to the side of the basement that the adults have congregated in.
“Dad, this is Wayne, Eddie’s uncle,” She introduces him, “Wayne, this is my dad.” Having fulfilled her greeting obligations, your sister soon ditches the party to go do angsty teenage things with her friends upstairs, abandoning Wayne with your dad and the few other parents that chose to stick around.
Your dad offers him a nod of acknowledgement before asking, “You want a beer?”
Wayne curls one of his eyebrows up and eyes your dad suspiciously, “Is that a trick question?”
Your dad chuckles, “God, no, it’s just the only way I can get through these things,” He says, referencing the hoard of nine and ten year olds gathered in his home.
Your dad then heads over to the cooler sat atop the card table that the other parents are sitting around and fishes out two bottles of beer, one for him and one for Wayne. As he hands Wayne one of the beers, both men settle into a conversation about the latest NASCAR race, prompted by the Richard Petty baseball cap that Wayne’s wearing. It’s awkward at first, given both men’s preconceived notions about each other, but the tension dissipates as the party carries on.
Your dad lets you and your friends bounce from activity to activity for a couple of hours before deciding that it’s time for cake and presents. So, everyone gathers around the long folding table set up in the middle of the room, Eddie sat right by your side, all watching as your dad brings out your homemade birthday cake and begins to light the candles. Once each waxy stick is topped with a delicate flame, everyone begins to sing to you and excitedly wiggle in your seat, too gleeful to contain it. When the celebratory song finally comes to a close, you blow out your candles with the encouragement of all your guests.
Apparently no one’s ever told you how wishes work before, or perhaps you know and simply don’t care, because you immediately turn to Eddie and excitedly inform him, “I wished for a corner piece of cake and to meet Dolly.” Unfortunately, Eddie notices that, in making your wish, you failed to account for the fact that your birthday cake is round, but he still hopes that the other part of your wish will come true.
In the rare, fleeting moment of calm that settles over the party after your dad has distributed a piece of cake to each kid, you slide your seat even closer to Eddie’s before digging into your slice. Eddie flushes at the sudden closeness and tries his best to ignore how nervous it makes him as he begins eating away at his own slice of cake.
“Eddie,” You softly call out to him, getting his attention without alerting your other guests.
“Yeah?” He replies through a mouthful of sugary sweet cake.
“Are you having fun?” You ask him suddenly, your bright eyes drilling holes into the side of his head as they stare at him unwaveringly.
“Y-yeah, I’m having fun,” Eddie replies as he bashfully meets your gaze.
“So you,” you trail off nervously, your fingers dropping your fork down on your plate in favor of picking at your cuticles, “You like hanging out with me?”
Eddie turns slightly in his chair, now facing you and fixing you with a quizzical gaze, “Yeah, you’re my friend,” He reassures you.
“Good,” You practically breathe a sigh of relief, “I think next year I might just invite you to my birthday party,” You confess, whispering your words so that the other kids won’t hear them.
“Why?” Eddie asks.
“Cause I really just wanted to hang out with you today, but that’s kinda hard when all my other friends are here too,” You explain as if it makes perfect sense, which, of course, it does to you.
“Me? Why’d you wanna hang out with me?”
“Because,” You sigh, “We don’t really play together much anymore, not since school started. But we used to hang out all the time last summer.”
Eddie frowns, “Yeah, I know.”
“Why don’t we hang out anymore, Eddie? Did I do something wrong?” You ask softly.
“You didn’t, I promise. I just- You have so many friends, so you don’t really need me,” Eddie reasons, causing your lips to turn down in a frown as well. His gaze falls to his lap as he swallows around the lump in his throat.
“But, Eddie, I like you more than them,” You confess, your tiny hand, with nails painted bubblegum pink, reaching out to grasp his own for the second time today.
Eddie’s head snaps up out of shock, his gaze meeting yours once again, “You do?”
You giggle sweetly, a smile breaking out on your cherubic face, “Of course I do! Eddie, they’re not good friends, not like you are. They all think I’m weird and sometimes they pick on me because of that, but not you, you’re always nice to me. Plus, you read all the coolest books and you’re so good at everything,” You confess.
“I am?” Eddie asks.
“Yeah! Like you’re really good at skipping rocks on the lake and you play guitar, which is so cool! Oh and you always draw the coolest stuff in art class.”
“I do?”
“Yeah, silly billy, you do. Eddie, you’re like the coolest person I know, besides my momma, of course,” You tell him.
While Eddie certainly agrees that your mom is really cool, he’s never really thought of himself as being cool before.
“I’m cool?” He asks doubtfully.
“The coolest,” You reassure him, wearing the cheesiest smile on your face all the while. Eddie can’t help but mirror your gleeful expression; the two of you now grinning at each other, lost in your own little world. The two of you are suddenly pulled out of that private little world when your dad walks over and gently rests a hand on your shoulder.
“Hey, honey, go on and finish up your cake now so you can open your presents,” Your dad says in an odd hybrid of a midwestern accent and a slow, almost southern sort of drawl, the kind of accent you get when you spend your whole life living on a farm in the rural Midwest, the kind that makes it sound like he’s perpetually speaking with a toothpick in his mouth and a couple beers in his system. He squats down beside you to plant a kiss on your cheek.
“Daddy.”
“Yes ma’am?”
“This is my friend Eddie,” You say enthusiastically, gesturing to the boy sitting to your left.
“Yeah, I know, pumpkin. Hurry up and finish that cake, alright?” He says in a tone that’s plenty nice, but still dismissive all the same, your smile falters at the sound of it and Eddie deflates just a little bit too.
Eddie doesn’t know what he did to make your dad hate him so much, but he finds himself wanting to apologize to him anyways. However, your dad walks away, rejoining the adults, before Eddie can even utter a word. Perhaps it’s for the best, though, because, as soon as your dad’s gone, you’re turning back to face Eddie and flashing him another megawatt smile. This smile, however, is a bit more devious than the ones you’d sported earlier on.
“Go on now, honey, finish your cake so I can open my presents,” You jokingly tell him in a near perfect imitation of your dad, one so good that it makes you both giggle.
Nevertheless, the two of you do wolf down your slices of cake fairly quickly, both eager for you to open your presents. After everyone else has finished too, you move to sit at the chair that your dad has positioned by the table that everyone had set their presents on, and all of the other kids circle around you, including Eddie. Then you finally start opening your gifts, beginning with the ones sitting closest to you on the table. You end up opening a few gifts before you finally get around to Eddie’s. They’re nice gifts too. Ellie Wilkinson got you a brand new doll house and Isaac Donaldson got you a chemistry set.
So much for that ten dollar limit, Wayne thinks.
After seeing all the nice gifts that the other kids got you, Eddie’s left feeling a little insecure about what he’d gotten you. However, the pure joy that radiates from your entire being as you rip off the treasure map wrapping paper of his gift, along with the mile wide smile that lights up your features as your gaze rests on the art set he got you, serves as the perfect source of reassurance. Your joy increases tenfold when you spot the wizard figurine that Eddie had snuck in with the art set.
Wayne immediately recognizes that little figurine and fixes his nephew with a look of pure disapproval from across the room. However, Eddie can’t find it in him to feel guilty or ashamed for going behind his uncle’s back, not when you’re smiling so sweetly.
“Who’s it from?” You ask excitedly, your feet tapping against the floor in a speedy, energetic rhythm.
“Read the card, honey,” Your dad tells you as he hands you the card that Eddie made for you this morning. You grab it from him eagerly and open it, reading the words written on the inside of it aloud, “Happy Birthday,“ you read your name as he’s written it on the card, following it with, “Love, Eddie Munson.”
In a flash of pink, you’re hopping up from your chair excitedly and bounding over to the curly-haired boy dressed in blue.
“Eddie, you are my favorite person alive right now!” You cheer gleefully as you catapulte over to him with your arms outstretched; once again, nearly knocking him over with the force of your hug.
While that’s not exactly the lifelong best-friendship you’d promised, Eddie thinks being your favorite person for even a moment might be worth losing his favorite action figure.
I just can't with this! You make me cry! I miss Freddie so much and this imagine make me feel so next from he. Absolutely thank you for this! ❤
Dear Freddie
5 September 1946 - 24 November 1991.
In memory of Freddie Mercury, I wrote this imagine. It’s not your traditional sort of imagine, nor is it a Freddie x reader sort of thing. Rather, it’s everything I’ve always wanted to say to Freddie in an interaction with him if I could travel back in time to.
Freddie is one of the best things to ever happen to me and I felt as though I needed this to celebrate it. It was rather cathartic to write and I do hope you enjoy. I’m sorry if he’s a little out of character in this but he’s truly his own and this is my version of him.
Word Count: 5.4k. Warnings: None. But I miss Freddie and this may make you miss him too.
-
“You’re not funny.”
In the middle of her flat in present-day London, you roll your eyes at your best friend. She had called you to schedule a dinner on November 24th and explained that you had to dress nice because she was going to announce something important to you.
You secretly scowled at the thought of having to celebrate something else on a day that was Freddie’s, but she is your best friend and so you complied with her wishes as the night seemed to matter to her.
What you didn’t expect, however, was the audacity of her announcement. She leaned over in a low voice, almost as if she didn’t want anyone to hear even though no one else was in the room.
“I can time travel.” She said, which brought you to where you are now in claiming she was not amusing.
Continuar lendo
Omg. It's hot in here, no?
I didn't think you'd do it
If you had the chance to make out with Steve Harrington - would you take it? Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!reader Word count: 1,262 Warnings: A bit of swearing, alcohol consumption.
Not only did he scoot himself closer to you, he also playfully and confidently swung his arm behind you, casually resting it on the backrest of the sofa. You sat very still and couldn't breathe properly at the moment. The mixture of his strong scented cologne and his warm sweet breath near your skin almost made you pass out of dizziness. It was intoxicating, and it hit you. It hit you so fucking hard.
"What's it gonna be?" Steves raspy voice made you snap out of your almost hypnotized state, and you turned your head to look at him. Your lips parted automatically at the sight of him, and you did everything in your power to not exclaim a deep sigh. God, you were basically eye-fucking him right now. His brown eyes were darker than normal. Not that you noticed that kind of things about him of course. Why - why would you do that? It wasn't like you had a huge crush on him or anything.
You didn't.
Did you?
Steve smiled and bit his bottom lip while his eyes wandered down to your mouth.
This was your chance. Probably your only chance to actually kiss Steve fucking Harrington. Your whole body shivered with the thought of feeling those perfectly shaped lips on yours.
Screw this.
With a racing heart, you turned to face him and wasted absolutely no time before leaning in to kiss him. But you were no match for Steve. He was well-prepared for your attack and with no hesitation - and a small grin on that beautiful face of his - he grabbed under your thighs and pulled you onto his lap - as if you were as light as a feather. He completely ignored the fact that it was you that was about to make the first move.
"Shit!" you exclaimed and laughed nervously. He caught you off guard. You weren't expecting this to happen and you were a bit surprised by his action. Mostly because you thought this was going to be a cute, innocent kiss. One of those soft ones, that would leave you smiling for a couple of days. Instead you were straddling him, very much aware of how comfortably his thighs was. You were pretty sure this would make you smile for more than just a few days.
"Gotcha" he chuckled and held his hands on your waist to keep you steady. In the hurry you had placed your hands on each side of Steve's head, pressing your palms onto the wall behind him and you tried your very best not to awkwardly fall forward and ruin the moment. It made your faces being dangerously close to each others and you were practically breathing the same air right now.
Steve slid under your shirt and let a few inches of your skin being exposed, still carefully resting his hands on your waist. You let out a small moan when he slightly tightened his grip. The warmth from his hands on your bare skin, along with the almost none-existing distance between your lips, made this whole scenario a thousand times more intense. And you had barely sat on his lap for a hot minute. He leaned towards you, not that the gap between you were that big, but it felt like everything went slowmotion from the moment you realized he was about to kiss you. You closed your eyes and leaned towards him as well.
Finally. Steve's lips on yours, soft as a cloud - God yes, it was one of the soft ones! - with so much tenderness that it felt like your lips almost melted togehter. Every fiber in your body exploded. You got instant lightheaded and without even notice it yourself, you grabbed his thick hair with both hands to stabilize yourself from the overwhelming dizziness which kept creeping up on you.
Once again a moan escaped your mouth unintended, inbetween the soft kisses. This time it was louder, a bit more desperate. You felt your cheeks getting bright red because of the sounds you kept making, but Steve didn't seem to be bothered. If anything, it just made him greedy for more and he groaned eagerly. Steve dug his fingers into your skin, pulled you even closer to him, and before you could react, his tongue was inside your mouth, already fighting your own for dominance.
Stars was showing before your eyes and your heart beated so fucking fast, that you were afraid it would jump out of your chest. The only thing that filled the room was the sounds of your somewhat desperate moans.
Damn how this had escalated quickly.
Steve deepened the kiss, his hands only moving inches up and down your body, but his touches was so definite, that it almost made your body jelly-like. The effect this man had on you was unbelievable and you were effortlessly turned on. In some way it felt so wrong, but at the same time, the only thing you wanted right now was to go further with him.
What if you just…
…wait a minute…
… You opened your eyes, as music started to stream through your ears. The beats from Take on Me filled the room and you were suddenly aware of your surroundings. A bit out of breath, you pulled yourself away from Steve's lips and slowly looked to your left. You noticed that you were still holding a fair grib on Steve's hair, as if it was about to flee, and stopped immediately when you realized that Steve and you were, in fact, not alone.
"Oh. Wauw," someone said. Mortified, you pulled yourself off of Steve's lap and sat next to him without saying anything. You licked your lips unconsciously and felt the warmth from the obvious embarrasement fill your cheeks.
Robin looked at you without even blinking and repeated herself.
"Oh… wauw…"
Steve was kinda disoriented, and just stared out in the room for a solid minute, vaguely smiling.
"I-I think Y/N won the game. Yep. She definitely did," he said.
"It's not like you can actually win 'Truth or Dare', Harrington."
"Let it go, Eddie. I think Steve's right. That was without doubt the best dare played this evening," Robin said, finally snapping out of the baffled state she had been in. Robin smirked at you, and grabbed her beer from the table. "I gotta say. I didn't think you'd do it, Y/N" she laughed and took a sip of the beer, as part of the drinking game you had going on with your friends.
"Uhm. Steve" Eddie said cautiously. Steve looked at him, still a bit lost.
"What?"
Eddie glanced at Steve. To be more precise, his crotch. In his foggy state he didn't knew what was going on. But as soon as he realized what Eddie was trying to say, without actually saying it, Steve started blushing and grabbed the nearest pillow to hide his very obvious enthusiasm.
This evening had been both absolutely amazing, and extremely awful. You couldn't help but think of your poor friends who had just witness you and Steve getting a tad too excited for each other. You also wondered if the music had been playing all along. Did they hear you moan like a fucking porn star? God, you hoped not!
When everyone began to converse, you caught Steve's eye. He smiled mischievously and winked at you, before taking a sip of his beer.
You started thinking this wouldn't be the last time you'd be straddling him. But next time, you would make sure you were alone with Steve fucking Harrington.
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