#hurt/comofort

[ghost-bxrd]

“We’re still Magic”

Rough sketch ✍️

The finished version of this is included as a small photograph in every order for the Acrylic Charms 💚

[writing-whump]

Too much sun

Matt gets sick and calls Isaiah for help. Contains emeto.

"Have fun, Matt."

Matthew turned at the phrase, giving Isaiah a sceptical look. "Last time you send me away to have fun, you ended up with a flu from hell. I'm not making the same mistake."

Isaiah sighed. "Alright, but that's a lesson for me, not for you. And I did call Sel back, didn't I?"

Matthew frowned. He was all ready to leave, shorts and a shirt. Some of his new friends from boxing invited him to a basketball game and the weather was perfect for the courts outside on the beach by the Danube river.

"Matt, for real. I'm alright. I'm literally swarmed with homework and assignments, I'm doing two lectures outside my faculty and I don't know what their faculty's style and method focus is at all and I'm gonna be trying to do the volunteering thing at the lawyer's office for wolves on Fridays...besides, I was no invited," Isaiah said with a smirk.

He was so happy Matthew was getting his own friends, that he was reaching out to people and they were reaching back. And not just because they knew he was in the pack with Isaiah.

Matthew needed his confidence in this department build up, and there was nothing better for it than experience.

Matthew bounced on his toes, not looking reassured.

Isaiah grimaced. Did he need to hand out test screenings of his health for his friends to believe him, when he wasn't sick? This was getting out of hand.

"Alright, I'm going. See you in a few hours." Matt probably figured not that much could happen in that time as he turned to leave.

Isaiah relaxed, chuckling a little for himself as he opened his laptop to scroll to the right pdf.

The time flew quickly after he got to work, morning turning to midday and to early afternoon that forced Isaiah to fix himself a lunch as a break. He was working his to do list off very well, satisfied, neglecting his breaks.

Around 2 pm he was sipping coffee on the balcony, wondering if he shouldn't take a walk or go on a quick run. Would Matt be in the mood for some sparring, when he got back, or would he be too tired?

Seline was visiting her parents, hopefully successfully this weekend. One of her uncle's was celebrating his 50th birthday, so she was even farther away from him than usual, someone in Central Slovakia.

Very human focused family from her father's side, since the wolf part came from her mother. Isaiah wondered what it would be like to be there with her. He could play the perfect human, he had no doubt of that, but Seline didn't want him to play one. She wanted him to be a wolf, but introducing a wolf to the family was a more serious business and they both knew it.

His phone rang on the little glass table on the balcony, Matthew's name on the screen.

Isaiah smiled, picking up. "Miss me already?"

"I...saiah..."

Isaiah's smile disappeared at the weakness in Matthew's voice. "Matt? Hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

He heard coughing that turned into gags on the other end of the line. "C-could you...come pick me up? P-please..."

Isaiah was at his feet that instant. "Yes, of course. You are at the sport park, right?" He went inside as he spoke, grabbing his car keys. He was really grateful for his car during emergencies, even if the parking situation in Vienna was an expensive tedious business.

"Y-yeah." There was something slurred and scared in the trembling sentence.

"Matt, talk to me." Isaiah locked the door to the apartment, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. "What's wrong with you? Are you hurt?"

"I don't know what's wrong- I can't-urrup-" There was more gagging and something wet hitting the concrete.

"I'll be right there."

The way there was a blur with Isaiah wracking his head about what could have happened on the court. Concussion? Did he suddenly get sick? A fight with some hostile wolves passing through?

He parked the car the closest he could get to the area, getting out, just about to call Matthew for a GPS location, when he spotted a mop of dark red hair on a bench near the basketball court.

Isaiah all about ran to the place, heart speeding anxiously.

Matthew sat hunched down, elbows on his knees. There was no blood and no shadow, no visible signs of injury.

"Matt? Hey, man..."

Matthew lifted his head, squinting his eyes at Isaiah like he was looking straight into the sun and not into a pleasant afternoon shade under the trees. "Hi..."

That's when Isaiah noticed the vomit covering the ground, part of the bench and Matt's left sneaker.

Isaiah sat down on the clean part of the wood, hand going to Matthew's neck. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Matthew slumped forward at Isaiah's touch. "I don't know. We were playing just normal, it was hot and good and all. And then my head started to pound and I got dizzy and suddenly I was throwing up all over the place and I don't know why." There was more than a hint of frustration in Matthew's explanation.

"Okay, okay, we are gonna figure this out." Isaiah ran his hands over Matthew's face, his pupils were normal, there were no bumps...he was really hot and dry to the touch. He could feel no sweat, wasn't that weird after an intense game of basketball on a warm day?

Matthew's face scrunched up in a grimace at the ministrations, closing his eyes. His body suddenly pitched forward with a heave, bringing up a chunky wave of vomit.

Isaiah scrambled to turn Matthew's face towards the sidewalk, between his legs instead of at him, gripping his shoulder and upper arm to steady him. "Okay, bud, get it all out."

"C-can't stop," Matthew managed between gags, spitting at the puddle. He wrapped his hands around his stomach, hunching over even more. "My head really hurts, Zaya."

"Your head? Not your stomach?"

Matthew groaned, slumping to the side against Isaiah who let him fall into his lap, rubbing his back and shoulder. "Everything hurts. Cramps like a motherfucker."

"Okay. Just breathe, it will pass in a minute," Isaiah promised, not sure what it still was.

Matthew squeezed his eyes shut, head on Isaiah's tight, his face one pained grimace, throat bobbing.

"We are just going to stay here and breathe and then I'm going to get you home and it will all be okay," Isaiah said as calmly as he could, rubbing his arm. Could this be some kind of heat related issue? Heat exhaustion or heat stroke? He wasn't that sure of the difference, just that the symptoms were kind of similar.

"...ruined everything again," Matthew said, curling around his stomach.

Isaiah scoffed. "You didn't ruin anything, that's nonse-"

"Got all sick during the game. They all left."

Isaiah frowned, angry coldness entering his voice. "Then they aren't good friends. In fact, they aren't even decent people, to leave someone who is sick alone. What idiots."

"Nobody else got sick, I must have done something wrong..."

"No, you didn't. I think you got a bit of a heatstroke, there, bud, can happen to anybody." Isaiah put the back of his hand to Matthew's creased forehead. Still no sweat and hot to the touch. "We need to get you home and cool you down."

"Uhmmmm," Matthew grunted. "Don't wanna move. Dizzy."

"It's not going to get any better here. I got water in the car and we will be home quick, I promise. I'll help you."

Matthew took a deep shaky breath, but then started to lift himself up. Isaiah helped him to straighten up on the bench, then guided his arm around his shoulders, wrapping his hand gently around Matthew's torso.

The moment they stood up, Matthew groaned, more puke exploding out of his mouth.

Isaiah held him steady, when he swayed, more vomit splattering in front of them, spluttering everywhere.

"Ughhhh, sorry..."

"Shhhhh. Not your fault. Can you walk? One step at a time, we'll go slow."

Matthew got heavier, most of his weight hanging on Isaiah as he fought to catch his balance. He squeezed his eyes shut with force as if to block out all the light.

They made a few steps, when Matthew froze, gripping Isaiah's sleeve on his upper arm in panic. "Zaya, I can't see, I can't see- what-"

Isaiah felt cold sweat on the back his neck, stopping immediately. Matthew's eyes were screwed shut. "Shhhh, okay, don't panic. Describe it to me. What can you see? Pitch black? A blot at the center?"

"It's like black spots all over-" Matthew sniffled, sounding dangerously close to crying, breathing fast as he turned towards Isaiah's voice.

Isaiah readjusted his grip, one arm under Matthew's armpit all around his torso, holding Matt's arm around his neck tighter. "Could be just from standing up and the elevation changing. It will clear out in a few seconds." He stopped adding promises to his sentences, mentally preparing to just call 911 if it didn't.

Matthew gasped for breath as if he was choking, blinking his eyes, then breathed in relief. "It's clearing up again..."

Isaiah didn't let out the deep sigh of relief stuck in his chest, pretending like that was what he expected. "All good now. You are okay. Just a few more steps to the car."

Matthew's grip on Isaiah's sleeve didn't loosen, but he nodded tightly, letting himself be dragged forward.

Isaiah fiddled with finding the car keys, opening the back seat door to slide Matthew inside, door open, in case he needed to vomit some more.

He went to the trunk to locate a water bottle and some plastic bags, crouching down next to Matthew.

"How are you feeling, bud?" Isaiah offered Matthew the water bottle.

Matt took it, but didn't drink, eyes closed, but not squeezing them shut anymore, as if he was afraid it would make his vision blotchy again. "Ughmmmm. Like I'm gonna throw up."

Isaiah rubbed his arm. "I'm sorry."

"Everything-everything's spinning," Matthew belched, gripping the water bottle in his fist, the plastic squeaking under his fingers.

"This is very likely a heatstroke. The headache, the nausea, the dizziness....it will be fine. We'll cool you down, get you some good meds, and it will all go away."

"Uhhhhmmm," Matthew wiggled his hands restlessly in discomfort, bowing his head. "I'm such an idiot. Why didn't I know this could happen? So stupid."

"It's different for everyone. Some can take the heat better than others. You will know what signs to look out for next time. It's okay."

"But I wanted to- wanted to do something on my own for once." Matthew's whole face crumbled. "I didn't want to drag you into it to save me, I wanted to do it on my own-" Matthew sniffled again, breathing picking up and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against the seat in front of him.

Isaiah's chest squeezed, realizing Matthew would be crying if he had the tears to spare.

Isaiah circled the car to climb in from the other side, hand going around Matthew's back to push him against his chest. "Aww, come on, bud. You did everything right. You are meeting new people, you got that new boxing gym...you are putting yourself out there, building a life for yourself outside your shadow, without accidents or fights you don't want. You are doing great."

Matthew let himself get dragged back into Isaiah's lap, breathing still panicked. "L-look how stupid I am. People are supposed to know these things at my age- they-I'm not supposed to be a burden on you, constantly getting sick on you-"

"Hey, hey, hey. Don't talk like that. We all have our own learning curve. You were on your own from such an early age, Matt, it's harder to find out on your own," Isaiah said gently. "Besides, you are not a burden. You are my best friend. I don't mind saving your ass, when you need it."

Matthew snorted despite himself, before taking another shuddering breath. "Seline said- and the points- I don't know if I have enough- if I can help as much as you- you didn't call me and I-" he buried his head against Isaiah's stomach, shaking.

"Points? What points?" Isaiah didn't understand and didn't think this was time to find out. "You are doing enough. It's okay. We love you, of course we would want to help out. Not your fault, when you get sick. It's not a burden."

"It-it is, even you think you-"

"It's not a burden to get sick," Isaiah said firmly, rubbing Matthew's back. "Shhhhh. It's okay."

They sat there for a few minutes, Isaiah rubbing circles to Matthew's back and listening to his breathing hitching as he sniffled and found a slower breathing rhythm, watching out for gagging noises.

"There you go. All better," Isaiah murmured. "You didn't have a family that would look out for you like this. That's why you feel like a burden. It's not your fault, but it's not fair at all for you to feel like that. You get sick and we'll deal with it."

Matthew was lying limply over him, breathing much calmer, though he was still pale and frowning, lips pressed in a thin line.

"Come on, bud, let's get home....I can't drive like this," Isaiah said with a small smile, ranning his fingers through Matthew's hair.

Matthew lifted himself up with a groan, enough for Isaiah to slip from underneath him.

"What if I throw up on the way?" Matthew said quietly, stretched out over the back seats.

"There is a bag right next to you. And if you do, you do. It isn't such a big deal." Isaiah just wanted him home and lying down in a cool place already. The car was getting overheated, standing in full blown sun.

"Uhmmmmm," Matthew moaned as Isaiah got the engine started, a/c on full blast. "If it's no big deal...don't think...you had the right family either...Zaya."

Isaiah's stomach flipped at the words. He swallowed heavily, focusing on backing the car out the parking lot.

@bellysoupset

[habizuh-studios]

my favorite ship type

Character A: Smiling but with trauma Character B: Also has trauma and loves character A --- Oh shit i just realized i like hurt/comfort for this reason. literally my reason for loving a ship is bc of trauma and the comfort??? wat

[andvys]

The edges of your soul (I haven’t seen yet) ⭐︎ chapter three

⭐︎ You're the greatest thing we've lost

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comofort (I guess?), mentions of death, grief, grumpy/mean!Steve

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve allows you to see a glimpse of who he really is, and not only do you get that, you also find out some sad truths.

Word count: 12.1k

Author's note: One of the chapters I was excited for the most was this one, you'll know why when you read it hehe. @hellfire--cult worked on this one with me, and she added a lot (don't listen to her when she will say she didn't, cause she did !) give her some love (or all of it cause she deserves it ♡)

⭐︎ series masterlist ⭐︎ previous chapter ⭐︎ next chapter

☀︎

Steam fogs the mirror in the bathroom, drops of water fall from your hair and down your shoulders, the smell of vanilla and lavender lingers in the room, you are rubbing moisturizer into your skin, enjoying the luxury of it all, a luxury you won’t have much longer the moment you are back on the road again. It’s impossible to find functioning showers nowadays, let alone hot running water. Something that used to be so normal, is something special now and you enjoy every second here in Hawkins, every hot shower, every good night’s sleep, every warm meal, the feeling of safety. 

You put a pair of sweatpants on and a sweater to keep you warm, a pair of wool socks that Nancy knitted herself. You brush your wet hair and clip it back. 

When you step out into the hallway, silence greets you. Eddie is in his room, he was complaining about a headache after you finished patrolling together after he worked on the RV all morning, you both got caught in the rain and after taking a shower to warm up, he excused himself to lie down. The door to Nancy’s bedroom is closed as well, she must be reading, she always closes the door when she does. The rainy weather allows you all to take everything a bit slower, to rest a little more than usual. 

The wind howls outside, thunder striking somewhere far, red bolts of lightning curse through the sky, an image you still haven’t gotten used to. 

You make your way down the stairs, it isn’t dark out yet but the grey clouds make it seem like it’s evening already, the golden light from the fireplace in the living room is very inviting in contrast to the darkness outside. You step inside and notice Steve moving around in the kitchen, taking out bowls from the cardboard. A towel is slung over his shoulder, his features are relaxed, no sign of a frown appearing on his face… yet.

You watch him for a moment, not moving away or towards him. You don’t want to disturb him or his peace. He seems to be content by himself and you know that facial expression will change the moment he notices you. 

Things have been tense between you after your one and only time patrolling together. He didn’t ask you to join him in anything and you didn’t make the mistake of trailing after him again. You also didn’t make much more conversation with him and he seemed happy about it for he didn’t try either. The only interactions you both have are ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’, maybe a ‘can you pass me the salt’ or an ‘excuse me’ here and there but that’s all. 

It’s been eleven days since your arrival here, and you both are still where you started. It saddens you. You tried to get to know him, and you still want to but he makes it hard to.

Maybe if things had been different, you would have gotten the chance to get to know the Steve you have seen in the pictures Nancy had shown you. The guy he once was seemed sweet and welcoming, the one before you is the opposite of it. 

You know something must’ve happened to him. Maybe it’s got to do with the scars on his skin, maybe he lost someone you don’t know about, maybe it’s because of Robin but whatever it was that took away the light in his eyes has turned him into this – mistrusting and mean. 

A silent sigh falls from your lips, you force your eyes away from his form and turn away, ready to make your way back up the stairs but his voice makes you halt in your tracks. 

“Hey…”

A lump grows in your throat, a nervous feeling settles in your chest, you swallow and take a deep breath before you turn around, facing him again. 

He is looking right at you, an awkward attempt at a smile pulling at his lips. 

“Hi… I uh, Nancy and Eddie are in their rooms and I didn’t want to disrupt their peace but uh I also don’t want to disrupt yours so–”

“It’s fine,” he interrupts you, not even letting you finish your sentence. “Would you like to help me?” 

You blink. 

Did you hear him correctly? 

He presses his palms against the counter, raising his eyebrows at you, like he waits for you to say yes. 

Steve notices your uncertainty, the knit between your brows, the pursed lips, the confused look in your eyes. You are pulling at your sleeves, looking a little lost, looking a little intimidated. You are not like this with Nancy and Eddie, you are comfortable with them – but not with him, and he can’t blame you for that.

“I could use a hand.”

You nod slowly, licking your lips, “yeah, I uh, sure!” 

You can’t help but feel a giddiness inside of you. He never asked you to join him before, he never asked for your help. 

“What do you need me to do?” You ask as you make your way over to him, standing across from him now, on the other side of the kitchen island. 

“Butter for now.”

“Butter?” You tilt your head. 

He hates it when you do that, every time you ask a question, every time you are confused about something, you tilt your head to the side. 

“We received a ton of milk, but we have to make our own butters and cream,” he explains as he gestures to the cans of milk on the table. 

“Oh…”

“Wanna give me a hand? It’s a lot of stirring.”

You nod, following him to the small, round kitchen table. 

“Here,” he murmurs, gesturing to the wooden jar, “this is a butter churn.”

“This is what they look like?” 

Steve nods, “yeah, what’d you think they looked like?” 

You shrug, picking up the stick, “I dunno, this thing looks like something straight out of the 1500s.”

Steve snorts, “maybe it is, we found it in Miss Keller’s house, she’s basically from the 1500s with the dresses she always wore.”

You fake a gasp, bringing your hand up to your mouth, “you stole Miss Keller’s butter churn? Bad Steve.” 

He rolls his eyes at you and turns away, but you see the way his lips curl upwards, even if only a little. – A small victory on your part. 

“So… how do I use this thing?”

He pours some milk into the jar and takes the stick from your hands, putting inside the jar before he covers the sides with a towel so the milk doesn’t splatter over you both.

“Here, you just… do these motions,” he explains, twisting the stick from side to side as he raises it up and down slowly, “you churn it slowly, you don’t want the milk to get all over you, it may take some time until you see some progress, you just gotta be patient.” 

You hum, moving a little closer to him, invading his space, you smell his shampoo, his body wash, a hint of oranges and apricot, the sweet and soft scents surprise you, most men opt for masculine scents, strong and overpowering ones. You prefer this. You like this, you like this a little more than you should. You watch the way his hands move as he shows you the motions, you focus on his voice when he gives you the instructions and then you take over when he hands you the stick before he steps away from you rather quickly. 

Unbeknownst to you, he too liked the scent that lingers on your skin a little too much. The sweetness of it, the softness of your hand when it touched his own, the closeness and the heat of your body – he doesn’t like you, how could he? His body reacts to your scent, feminine and soft. It’s been a long time since he felt the touch of a woman, and you are the first to graze his skin, that’s all. He wouldn’t think anything of it, he wouldn’t react to it had there been other women around. 

To his surprise you stay quiet, focused on the task before you, you don’t speak or ask any questions for a while, it’s almost odd to him, you are talkative, never missing the opportunity to open your mouth and ramble about something completely random and unimportant. Then again, things have been tense between you both. He knows it’s his fault, he also knows that it’s for the better, yet he can’t help but dislike this silence right now, he doesn’t know why. 

He tries to focus on his own task, pouring milk into a pot to make cream. 

The crackle of the fire, and the sound from the butter churn fill the silence between you both. A few minutes pass before you finally speak up. 

“What are we using the butter for?” You ask, feeling the soreness in your wrist already.

“For the meat. I use it to make it tender. The meats are not as good now that the cows are not properly cared for. They’re just cows from the wild and the few from the barn here.” 

“Oh, so they don’t get all the needed supplements and stuff?” 

“Exactly,” Steve nods, reaching for a spatula, he starts stirring the milk, “I mean, we do our best but you know…”

You look over at him, surprised to find him looking back at you already, you didn’t realize his eyes were on you. You nod your head slowly, not moving your eyes away from his, you don’t break the contact just yet, looking into his hazel eyes that are always blazing with anger or annoyance, right now it’s neither of those emotions, it’s something else, something you can’t read, something you can’t make out, something you haven’t seen in his eyes yet, a look yet to be unlocked. 

He blinks, shaking his head, he furrows his eyebrows and looks down at your hand, “how does it look?” 

You breathe out and force your eyes away from his as well, you stop your movements and lift the towel off the jar, “uh, I think it’s solid now.” 

“Great, now pour it into the bowl,” he gestures to the bowl with the cheesecloth inside. 

You fall quiet again and follow his instructions, his voice fills the space between you as he gives you a step by step on what to do but when you’re as good as done, the silence between you is almost deafening, almost awkward, especially to him, the need to fill it is so strong. 

He swore to himself that he wouldn’t talk to you if not necessary, that he wouldn’t ask questions. He doesn’t want to know anything about you, he doesn’t need that in his life, but this moment right now is killing him. He is done cooking the cream, and he is now working on making dinner, cutting vegetables. He tries to distract himself with that but to no avail. 

He glances at you. It’s dark out now, the only source of light coming from the fireplace and all the candles set up because he likes to save up on electricity by keeping the lights off. The golden light touches your skin so softly, your hair shining from it, the smell of your body wash lingers in the room. You look relaxed, you look content despite being here with him. The sweater you are wearing is too big and it slipped down your shoulder from all the movements, exposing the scar that has formed on your shoulder. It was fresh when you came here, and he never found out how you got it. 

He clears his throat, swallowing the lump that grew from nervousness, he speaks your name, which it’s almost foreign on his tongue. 

You look up at him, “yeah..?”

“What uh,” he pauses, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly before he points to your shoulder, “what happened?”

You need a moment to follow what he is pointing at. You are surprised, almost taken aback to hear a question coming from him, a question directed at you. Slowly, you look down, only now noticing that your sweater slipped. You put down the paddle that you used to form the butter and pull your sweater back up. 

“Uh… I fell onto broken glass when a sick person snuck up on me.” You explain, scrunching your nose, “I was distracted, I never am usually but I was hungry and looking for food and I found something I’ve been looking for, for months!” 

“Oh,” Steve mumbles and looks down. “What was it?” 

“...Kit Kat’s.” 

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, lip curling up a bit, “you almost got yourself killed because of Kit Kat’s?” 

You shrug at him, “they’ve always been my favorite! And I haven’t had any since the day the world went to shit!” 

He chuckles a bit but he doesn’t comment on it further, just looking back down, giving you the opportunity to look at him closer, at the scar around his neck, you never asked how he got it, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. 

He looks up to find you staring at his neck. He knows you are curious, you have been from the start, he always caught you staring at it. 

“I was dragged by a demo– a bat.”

He sees the way your eyes widen, how surprised you are by his explanation, “huh?”

He points to his neck, “it choked me, leaving a mark, while two others bit my flesh off.” 

Steve used to cringe every moment he spent thinking of that night, of when they dragged him across the floor, leaving marks on his skin. He used to have nightmares of it, until those nightmares were replaced by new pictures, worse ones. 

You nod slowly, looking him up and down, there are no other visible marks for you to see, except for the one on his neck. 

“Where?”

He sighs, not wanting to look into your eyes, not wanting to see the sadness flashing in them. He looks back down at the carrot he was cutting, picking the knife back up again, he continues. 

“My abdomen, my sides… but Eddie had it worse.” 

You quickly realize what he is doing, steering the topic away from him again, thinking he doesn’t deserve sympathy for what he went through. 

You have seen the scars on Eddie’s skin, the deep and gnarly marks, he briefly told you what had happened but you never pushed the subject, you never tried to find out more. 

“You mean the scar on his lip…?” 

Steve nods, “his chest, abdomen, arms, legs… They’re all scarred. They bit off chunks of flesh.” He says, his voice sad, almost haunted. 

Your shoulders drop, the look on your face too, sadness flushes through you and you look down at the table, at nothing in particular.

You can’t imagine how it happened, the pain he was in, the fear that took home in all of them when Eddie was bleeding out and fighting for his life. 

Steve turns around when he registers your silence. He sees the worried, sad look on your face, how your lips curl downwards and your shoulders are dropped. 

“But we’re okay now, he is healthy as you can see… and annoying.”

At that, you smile a little, lifting your head back up to look at him, “yeah, but he’s adorable.” 

Steve draws back a little, raising an eyebrow at you, “you crushing on Munson or something?” 

Your eyes widen and you flush all over, shaking your head quickly that your hair falls out of your clip. 

“What, no! Ew! He reminds me of my brother! People that are just like my brother ain’t my type!” You scoff, shuddering a little. You pick up the paddle again and continue forming the butter into the shape you want to have it. 

Steve can’t help but smile, amused by the look on your face. He gets a little curious though. 

“... And what is your type?”

You hum, taking a moment to answer his question. 

He doesn’t look away from you just yet, he watches you. 

“Mmm… As long as he makes me smile when I need it the most… that’s all I need.” 

Steve nods at your words, humming. 

You look up at him, surprised to see him still watching you. 

“What about you? What’s your type, cowboy?” 

He flushes a little, cheeks warming under your eyes. He hasn’t talked about women in years, and hasn't thought about this either. 

He shakes his head, lifting his shoulders up and down, “I uh… I honestly have no idea.” 

He is not the guy he used to be, the one who was flirting freely and taking out one girl after the other – even that guy didn’t know his type. He was searching for something in every girl, and he never found it. 

“Oh come on!” You scoff, looking at him in disbelief, “what type of women did you go out with?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, they were always… stereotypical girls that always talked about the latest trends and stuff.”

You snort, rolling your eyes as you look down. 

“Ah right… Prom King. I can guess which type of women you’re into–”

He quickly shakes his head at you, “no… no… I went out with them to have fun, it was just physical. Those girls weren’t my type.” 

You frown at his words and sigh. 

For some reason your reaction makes him think that you’re done with this conversation, but then you look back up and turn towards him completely. 

“Okay… then, when you’re with a woman, what is attractive to you?” 

“... Real answer?” 

“Sure…” You murmur. 

A smirk tugs at his lip when he notices how flustered you are getting when his eyes move up and down. 

You notice how he stops at your chest in particular and you can’t help but groan and shake your head in disappointment. 

“Booo…”

“No!” Steve raises his hands up in surrender, chuckling. 

“I was gonna say eyes.”

You roll your eyes, snorting, “right… I didn’t mean physically, Steve. I meant what is attractive to you when you’re on a date with them? What do they do that is attractive to you?”

Your words wipe the small smile off his face again, and he stands there in silence, getting lost in his thoughts, getting lost in the past, reliving every date, every moment that should have excited him but didn’t. He realizes that there was not a single date that is worth remembering, not a single girl who made him smile genuinely. Sure, he had fun the moment he was in pleasure but that’s all, the girls were attractive physically but emotionally? They all sucked, none of them cared about him, all they wanted was a piece of King Steve. 

And even when he thought he found something genuine, someone to love him, someone to care for him, it turned out to be a show, it was just as genuine as the interest all those girls had in him. It was all a lie. 

There is no love in him for her anymore, no feelings, no desires, nothing. But those words still hurt and sometimes they still haunt him because he believes it. Those words echo in his head, just like all the other hateful things others have thrown at him. But one in particular remains,

‘Bullshit’

“I… I don’t know…” He whispers, letting his facade fall for only a moment. “I guess someone who doesn’t see me as a failure.” 

You are taken aback by his words, a weird feeling settling in your chest at the confession. 

When Steve realizes what he said, when he notices the look in your face, when he notices his mistake, he immediately draws back. 

“W-What… Failure, why?” 

He shakes his head, turning his back to you again, “doesn’t matter, um… the butter should be done, wanna give me a hand cutting the potatoes?” 

You hesitate, staring at the back of his head. You want to know more, you want to know why he said that, you want to know why he feels like this, who made him feel like this. 

A sigh falls from your lips, loud enough for him to hear. 

“Sure…”

You leave it alone, not wanting to risk getting on his bad side again, you bite your tongue and do as he asked. You clean up the kitchen table before you walk over to him, getting your own cutting board, and you start peeling the potatoes. 

You work in silence for a while, just like before, but this one isn’t as uncomfortable, even though his words still echo in your head and you wonder about his past. You don’t want him to close up on you again, not when he just started to open up, so you don’t press the subject further. 

It’s too silent though and you can barely handle it. You let go of the peeler before you started peeling the potatoes, taking Steve aback, his eyes already glaring at you as you turned and walked away.

“Really? You don’t want to peel potatoes?”

“It’s too quiet!” You leave the kitchen, leaving Steve stunned as he looks back at the door. It was quiet but he didn’t think you were going to have a breakdown because of it. He doesn’t know you and that is being a little obvious by now. Maybe you don’t do good with silence and he just doesn't know that side of you. If he knew, maybe he could have talked about something else, or try.

But not two seconds later, he starts hearing the radio turning and then static. He doesn’t remember when was the last time they turned on that radio. He can hear you changing the channels of it, the static growing and lowering, and he wonders if you're crazy. There is no music being played. Who would operate a radio station in the middle of the apocalypse–

His eyes widen when he starts hearing ‘Hound dog’ by Elvis Presley. It is static, yet it is still there. There is music. Somewhere in Indiana, someone is operating a radio station. Someone is trying to keep people in a good mood despite it all. He never knew. Nancy never knew. Eddie never tried. The three of them thought that the only music they could have was Eddie’s guitar.

He hears you humming to it, walking back into the kitchen and placing the small radio on the far corner so you two can have the music to yourselves. He is still staring at the radio, completely stunned, his eyes wide. You turn to look at him when you grab the peeler, noticing the look of surprise.

“Why do you look so stunned?”

“I– I didn’t know they played music…” Your eyes went to look at it and you smiled, nodding at him.

“Yeah, I had one back at camp too… Did you know radio signals can travel from 50 to 60 miles away? Some AM stations up to 100 miles!” He is still surprised there is music, yet you are talking away facts to him about radio signals. But that actually caught his attention. There are others, not an hour away from him. It has to be the WSQK watts station. It has to be.

“There’s… a radio station near… like thirty or forty minutes away from here…” You turn to him, surprised as well now.

“Really? Well… there’s people operating there… Probably also sending out news and messages to people.” Your attention turns back to the potatoes, starting to peel away, leaving the peeled skin scraps in a mountain on the counter. 

“That’s… good to know.” It actually is good to know. They thought that the only radio signal they could ever get for news was Mr. Clarke’s transmitter that is in the library. That’s how they got contacted by Hopper when the others arrived in California, and now he is finding out that maybe some radio stations are still transmitting. They are probably using some kind of solar panel to make energy because–

“This potato has a worm.” He snaps out of his thoughts immediately at your words, frowning as he looks down at it. 

“There’s no worm there.” You slowly look up at him with a cheeky smile, only to look back down, leaving that peeled potato aside to grab another.

“You were thinking too much. Just enjoy the music, you can think later.” You reply and he blinks for a few seconds as the song keeps playing. He looks back down to his carrots, grabbing the knife he left on the side to keep cutting. The minutes pass, the songs changing, songs he knows. Songs that remind him of when the world didn’t simply go to shit. 

And there’s some kind of comfort in that.

“Did you know Marvin Gaye was shot by his own father?” You have been spitting facts and news to him that he either knew or never knew, and he didn’t notice he found himself talking back at you, even giving a fact or two of his own.

“I did, that was crazy as shit.” The song ‘Sexual Feeling’ was playing, that’s why you started talking about that with him. Each song that passed, you said something about it. You were stirring the vegetables in the boiling water while he sauted the meat in the pan, with the butter you made. He threw some rosemary in it too, for extra flavour.

One other thing he didn’t notice was that he had been humming along all this time.

He had two pans where he was cooking four pieces of meat, while you worked on making sure the vegetables were properly boiled. You had added some garlic in the pot because you claimed it’s good for the overall health. He almost chuckled at that because it was just because garlic is delicious. There was no need to put garlic on boiled vegetables. 

You two didn’t even notice that even in the silence of conversation, where just the music played, there was no more awkwardness. There was no tension. There was nothing that could make you think he didn’t like you anymore. 

“Is that Marvin Gaye?” The sound of Nancy’s voice makes the two of you turn around, and she is surprised to see you working together. It’s been days since you two last had a proper conversation, and– “Wait… music?”

“Yeah. She kind of discovered it. Nance, we didn’t know the radio station was still functioning, for a whole year.” Steve’s voice makes you feel proud, knowing you helped and that he was actually surprised by your discovery. Nancy blinks a few times, not believing her ears.

“Wait, so it means we can use that to receive news…” Steve’s eyebrows meet in the middle for a second, only to then nod slightly.

“I bet they’re not different from the news we get from the transmitter in the library, Nance.” His head turns back to the meat, while you grab four plates, stacking them next to him. “Thanks.”

You try to tone down your giddiness, not wanting to show him you are really happy he is being civil and friendly with you, “No problem.”

Nancy’s eyes travel back and forth with the two of you, wondering what had changed, but it is better not to ask. Seeing Steve putting steak on each plate while you grab a colander from the cupboards below the sink. You are about to grab the pot yourself, grabbing kitchen clothes to not burn yourself on the handles, but Steve grabs them from you.

“Let me.” You see how he grabs the pot, not letting you do it, not letting you carry the heavy weight yourself.

“Um–” You don’t know how to react or say, kind of confused at his action, but you don’t dislike how much of a gentleman that move was. Nancy hums a bit to herself, clearing her throat before yelling out.

“Eddie! Food’s ready!” Your head turns to look at her, and you snap from your thoughts, not noticing you had been looking at his arms as they strained a bit when pouring the water into the colander. You quickly move to the cupboards to start setting up the table with Nancy as Eddie walks down the stairs. 

“Oh, shit, we eating Steve’s delicious steaks?” Steve rolls his eyes but he’s proud of his cooking. It’s one of those things he knew he was good at, and he never received any complaints.

“Just set the table up, Munson.” He replies and Eddie immediately moves to grab the water out of the fridge and set it on the table. You go back to the counter, next to Steve, and grab a big scooping spoon. Steve hands you one plate, with a steak on it, and you just add some boiled vegetables on it before placing it in front of Nancy as she sits down.

Once you are all seated, Eddie doesn’t even wait a second before he shoves a piece of meat into his mouth, moaning as if he’s in a porn movie, making the other three of you cringe.

“Do you have to do that everytime you eat his steak?” Nancy asks as she cuts herself a little piece, Eddie turning to look at her, with his mouth full.

“Its’ ‘fee biss’ stek’ i’ve evur’ haf.” You snort into your water at the nonsense he just mumbled  because of his mouth full of food. Steve holds in a chuckle as he grimaces in disgust.

“Can you chew and swallow before you talk?” And Eddie glares at him only for his eyes to widen up as he looks around, a frown in his eyebrows. He chews quickly, swallowing where he almost choked.

“Is that– ‘Take on me’? Is that fucking music!?” Nancy snorts as you all realize that Eddie hadn’t even noticed the music playing because he was more focused on Steve’s steaks. 

You explain that you have found a few channels over the months every time you come across a radio somewhere, though none of them have played metal music. 

“Maybe you gotta do the heavy metal channel,” you shrug. 

“Huh, you know what? Maybe I will, once I figure out how to, I fucking will,” he nods happily before he takes another bite of his steak. 

Steve chuckles a little to himself, though he keeps his eyes trained on the plate before him. Nancy and Eddie share a look of surprise, it’s been a while since they saw him so… relaxed. 

For the first time in a while, he joins in on the small talk during dinner, commenting and nodding along to the things you talk about. A sparkle of hope is inside of both Nancy and Eddie, hope that maybe there is still something left in him wanting to try, wanting to live, wanting to fight for something better. 

Maybe he is ready to leave now, maybe he is learning how to let go. 

Eddie wastes no time in wanting to find out, because the moment you are all done eating and he pushes the empty plate away from him, leaning back, he stuffs his hand into the pocket of his jeans, fishing something out. 

You all watch curiously. 

Eddie flashes you a smile when you lean closer, trying to peek over the table. He lifts his arm up and throws something over to Steve, the unmistakable sound of jingling keys passing by you, a flash over silver before your eyes before it lands in Steve’s hand. 

Steve looks down, feeling the metal in his palm, his fingers are closed around it. He doesn’t need to look to know what it is, the happiness in Eddie’s eyes and the dreadful feeling in his stomach tells him exactly what it is. 

With furrowed eyebrows, he stares at nothing in particular. 

“What is it!?” Nancy asks, impatiently. 

Eddie looks at the both of you, unable to contain the smile on his face as he starts jumping up and down on his chair. 

“I finished it,” he explains proudly, though neither of you understand what he means by that as you both give him questioning looks, to which he sighs. “The RV! It’s up and running! We can finally get out of here!” 

“Seriously?” Nancy nearly squeals, her eyes lighting up at his words, she nearly jumps from her chair, almost knocking it over. 

You know that she’s been waiting for this, waiting to be reunited with her family again. 

“Yeah! We’re going to California, baby!” Eddie exclaims, reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze. “So you better start packing your bags.”

You smile, sharing their relief as well. You've been waiting for it too, waiting to finally see your family again, though in this moment, you fear looking over at Steve, knowing how he feels about leaving Hawkins. You still turn your head, daring to take a glance and you find exactly what you thought you would. 

His features are no longer relaxed, his lips are no longer curled into a smile, his eyes aren’t soft like they were before. A mixture of sadness and anger lingers in them, and when he looks at you, meeting your eyes, you feel a shudder running down your spine, he no longer is the one from before, the one that laughed with you, the one that talked with you like you were his… friend. 

He clenches his jaw and he turns away again, throwing the keys back to Eddie who catches them with one hand, the smile falling from his lips when he finally notices the frown on Steve’s face. 

You all flinch a little when the chair scrapes against the hardwood floor and the brunette picks his plate up angrily before walking over to the kitchen. 

Nancy’s smile falls and her shoulders slump, helplessly she looks at Eddie. 

“Dude, you know we can’t stay here,” Eddie states carefully, with a soft and gentle voice. “We’re gonna run out of everything someday, you can’t prevent–”

“We won’t run out if we go hunting,” Steve grumbles. 

“There’s nothing left here for us, man. We got people waiting for us–”

Suddenly, Steve turns around, with his eyes angrier than before and his cheeks burning red, “you got people waiting for you! Leave me out of this!”

Nancy frowns in disbelief, as well as Eddie who gets up from his chair as well, throwing the keys on the dining table. 

“Seriously? You’re telling me that the kids aren’t waiting for you? That they haven’t been asking for you every time Dustin radio’d us and you’ve been acting like a complete asshole, refusing to speak to him – to them?” 

Steve scoffs loudly, turning back around, he makes his way over to the sink. 

“We’re not leaving without you, Steve,” Nancy speaks. “I’m not leaving you behind.” 

“That’s rich coming from you, Nance.” 

She falls silent after that, opening her mouth and closing it again, she looks a little taken aback, guilt flashes in her eyes. 

Eddie only sighs, looking down with a defeated look on his face. 

You don’t know what his words mean, you don’t know why she gives up after that. Many questions run through your head but you mostly wonder what he meant by that. 

“Steve,” Eddie tries again and you can hear the desperation in his voice, you can see the sadness in his face, he doesn’t want to leave his friend behind but he doesn’t want to stay here either, he never wanted to, least of all now. “There is nothing left for us here, there is nothing left for you here, you know that, man. Robin is–”

You flinch again when he throws the plate into the sink, so hard it must’ve splattered in half. He turns around, throwing a finger at Eddie, “I told you I’m not leaving! If you wanna go, feel free to get the fuck out of here, all of you! But leave me alone!” He yells, glaring at the both of them before he storms out of the room, passing by you and out into the hallway, not bothering to grab a jacket or an umbrella before he rips open the door and leaves the house, slamming the door so harshly that you wonder if it’s still in tact or not. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, adrenaline kicking in when you notice that Eddie and Nancy aren’t moving, not planning to follow him out. 

They know him better than you do, they know not to touch him now, he won’t listen, he won’t compromise, he will do more damage than anything else at this moment but you don’t know that. 

Worry settles deep in your gut, the urge to go after him growing stronger each passing second. You get up and push the chair back, leaving them no time to react before you rush out of the room, quickly throwing on your old pair of sneakers, not wasting any more time to follow him out. 

You hear your name being called before you slam the door shut, but you don’t bother to turn back around, you run straight into the storm, not caring about the rain you ran from earlier. 

You rip open the gate and close it behind you, looking around you as you try to spot him in the darkness, you squint your eyes when lightning strikes through the sky. You see his silhouette, three houses down the road. 

The rain runs down your face, soaking through your clothes already, the coldness of it clinging to your skin and making you shiver already, even as you start running after him, following him wherever he is going. You pick up the pace when he gets further and further away from you. 

Worry still gnawing at you, not knowing how he will react to you following him but you can’t just let him go like this, you know that he is angry but you also know that the anger is a mask for something else. He is sad, he is broken because of things that happened to him. You may not be the person he wants him to follow, but you just can’t let him go like this. 

You slow down when he rounds the corner of a house, disappearing behind the wall. The rain paddles harshly against the floor, thunder crashing through the sky. You almost slip on the muddy ground when you step into the grass, you halt in your tracks when you notice the surrounding bushes, somehow still full and alive, unlike most other things in Hawkins. 

You lost him after he disappeared into the garden of whoever lives or lived in this house. The white picket fence has no gate, and you can just walk through it. You follow the footprints in the mud, feeling grateful for the lightning for once. You push your wet hair out of your face, as you inch closer and closer to where he ran off to. 

You take deep breaths, trying not to shiver from the cold. Thunder makes you flinch again, though the loud crash is not what makes you halt in your tracks, nor is it the red lightning bolts in the sky that illuminate your surroundings, allowing you to see better, allowing you to take in the view before you. 

For a moment, you stop breathing, you stop moving completely, you are sure that even your heart stopped beating. You can only raise your hand to your lips as your eyes widen in horror. 

He is here, he is standing in this garden, only a few steps away from you. He is standing there with his head hung low, looking down at the grave before him, wilted flowers on it, a necklace dangling from the cross, a necklace that once dangled from her neck. 

Robin Buckley. 

The name engraved into the wooden cross, is the name you have heard so many times, the name of his best friend. 

So many feelings run through your veins but mostly shock and confusion. He talked about her like she was alive, they talked about her like she was alive, there was no sign of this. You could have never guessed. Every time he left the house saying that he was gonna visit Robin, you thought he was actually seeing her, you could have never imagined that he meant visiting her grave. 

Your heart breaks when the realization of it all begins to sink in, why he is the way that he is, why he doesn’t want to leave, why he is so filled with anger and rage. 

You swallow the sickening lump in your throat. You don’t know what to say or do, a part of you wants to walk away and leave him be, the other wants to comfort him, and the stronger part wins. 

“Steve…” You call out softly to him, your voice reaching him despite the raging storm.

He tenses up, you can see it, it takes him a moment but when he finally turns around, you realize what a mistake it was to follow him. Even through the darkness and the rain, you can see the glistening tears in his eyes, the angry ones, the scowl on his face directed at no one but you. 

“I-I’m sorry…”

“Don’t!” He snaps loudly. “Don’t say anything right now!”

You press your lips together, taking deep breaths as you look at the intense emotions in his eyes, and his anger makes you cower away. Shivers run down your spine, not from the rain, but from how he looks at you. 

You shake your head slowly, digging your nails into your palms. You don’t know what to do, so you just stand there and watch him. Behind the hatred in his eyes, you see pain and sadness, you see how hard he is holding onto this, you see how it is driving him crazy, how it’s ripping him apart. 

“I-I didn’t know…” You say softly. 

Steve can hear the sadness in your voice, the gentle tone in it, the warmth in your eyes – he can’t stand it, he doesn’t want it, he doesn’t deserve it. 

“That she’s dead? You didn’t know that my best friend is dead?” Steve scoffs as he slowly starts to make his way over to you, inching closer carefully, staring at you like you are his prey that he is ready to rip apart, right here, right now. “Well, now you fucking do, she’s dead, Robin is dead just like most people are, just like you will be the moment you step out there!” He throws his hand up, pointing at nothing in particular. His voice is trembling, the rain streams down his face. 

You wince at his words. 

You know what’s waiting out there, you know the dangers of this world but that doesn’t stop you from finding your family, from keeping hope alive. 

You understand him now, more than anything. You don’t know how you would be if you lost someone you loved so dearly but he still has people he loves, people that love him. 

“I’m sorry, Steve. I really am, I’m sorry that you lost her,” you start, your own voice trembling, out of nerves and out of fear. “But she is gone, a-and you staying here won’t change it! It won’t bring her back, it won’t fix anything! I understand your pain, I really do… but– you have people who care for you, Eddie and Nancy. You have other people who are waiting for you… Dustin?” You say despite the shock that still curses through you. 

You don’t know whether it’s tears running down his cheeks or if it’s just the rain, but his eyes are glassy.

“Don’t bring Henderson into this! He is alive and well and that suffices!” 

“Does it really?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. “Because you look miserable most of the time, and you will end up all alone once Eddie and Nancy are gone!”

Steve takes another step closer to you, looking down at you with nothing but hatred in his eyes. 

“I know you feel like your life is over but it’s not, I–”

“You’ve known me for two weeks. Two fucking weeks. I don’t care about your optimistic hopeful bullshit. When you find your parents and your brother dead, you will wish you never had it to begin with.”

You draw back, straightening your back, you stare at him, speechless and stunned. The words are caught in your throat, your chest aching more than ever. 

You know he is hurt and angry, and now he is trying to hurt you back. You know that they’re alive, you know that your parents are fine, you know that your brother is well. 

“They’re… they’re not–”

“You saw the world out there, open your eyes for just a second!” He snaps at you, getting closer and closer, allowing you to see him and his anger better. “You are leading my friends to their death! You are helping them leave! I-I thought you would want to stay once you realized you were safe here, that you’re all fucking safe!”

You shake your head at him, growing angry too for the things he said about your family. 

“Why wouldn’t I want to leave!?”

“Cause you are literally driving into hell! There are things you haven’t encountered there!”

“I want to see my family! Nancy and Eddie too! You have family waiting for you!” 

A humorless laugh falls from his lips, he brings his hand up to his face, pressing his knuckle under his nose as he closes his eyes for a moment before he opens them again, looking at you again, “family? My family is here, six feet under!” He yells, pointing at the grave. He is blinded by rage and sadness. “The one person I had in my life that cared for me like no one else had is gone! And I’m not leaving her here!” 

You know there is no getting through to him, not when he is like this.

Steve would rather chase after a ghost for the rest of his life. 

“Leave her here?” You whisper. “She’s not here anymore, Steve! Do you really think she would want this for you? She wouldn’t! You were family, you were her best friend, she would want you to leave, to find a better place, to live!” 

If the look in his eyes could kill, you’d be buried under this ground right now. You can see that it’s getting worse, that his eyes are burning, that his chest is heaving. 

“I know what danger is out there, but I need my family–”

“Smell the fucking non-existent sunflowers, they’re dead by now!” 

Steve tries it again, to hurt you, to harm you where he knows it hurts the most but you shake your head, trying not to let his words get to you, trying not to let his words touch your heart. You take a step away from him, shaking your head. 

“No–, no they’re not,” you whisper, feeling the familiar lump in your throat, the painful throbbing in your heart, the hotness in your eyes. 

He scoffs at you, looking you up and down in disbelief, “you think you’re going to find your house surrounded by a gate of protection? You’re fucking delusional if you think so.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, taking a step back further. You hesitate, feeling intimidated by his presence all the sudden but he only follows, looking right into your glassy eyes. 

He is guided by hatred. He can no longer see clearly, the pain has turned him into this, the pain has made him cold. He doesn’t care about the tears in your eyes, about the trembling in your bottom lip, about the fear and the sadness in your eyes. 

“My family is alive, I-I know they are–”

“Smell the decay of the corpses around you, and tone down that hope of yours before you end up even more hurt than you thought you could ever be. Open your eyes for once and stop acting like an immature little girl.” 

His words feel like a blow to your chest, stealing the breath from you and replacing it with pain. The colors vanish before your eyes, a darkness you never allowed to enter, blurring your vision and crawling into your veins, threatening to take over. 

The tears no longer stay in your eyes, they start falling freely as your bottom lip trembles, a sob threatening to escape you though you push it back down, not wanting him to see just how much his words have hurt you. 

You see nothing in his eyes, no remorse, no guilt, nothing but this – grief has turned him cold.

Your sniffle breaks his anger a little though, the blaring redness that flashed in his eyes just seconds ago, dimming just a bit when he begins to see the damage he has done. He sees the way your chest is rising up and down heavily, the way you're blinking quickly like it would stop your tears from falling, he sees the pain in your eyes that he had caused. 

You are crying, he made you cry when he once swore to himself to never do this to anyone ever again. 

“You’re…” Your voice breaks and you wipe your tears, as though it would change anything. “You’re a douchebag.” 

The tension in his shoulders leaves him, and regret starts sinking in. 

Robin thought that of him before she got to know him, before she became his friend. He changed, even more so when he found her. 

Has her death made him turn back around?

Has it changed him this much?

She would be disappointed, she would kick his ass for what he did just now, for what he said, for how he made you feel, for making you cry when all you wanted was to help. He knew where it would hurt the most and he chose to hit you there exactly, not caring about what it would do to you. 

You tear your eyes away from him, sniffling quietly as you walk away from him, leaving him in the rain. 

His fingers itch, his hand moves forward as though to stop you but he quickly clenches his fist and breaks his eyes away from you, looking down at the muddy ground. He closes his eyes, shutting them tightly as he holds back tears. His heart is aching more than ever. 

He knows you’re right, deep down he knows. 

He knows it’s only fair for Eddie and Nancy to leave, he knows it all, he understands it all.

He knows that she would want him to go with them, that she would force him to if she could. He knows she’s gone, he hasn’t felt her presence since the day a bird had sat down on her cross, she is gone and there is no bringing her back, not even if he stays. 

But how can he leave when all that is left of her is this? 

Everywhere he turns there’s a reminder that she was here, every good memory he has of her would be abandoned and he can’t do it, he just can’t. 

With trembling lips and tears now streaming down his cold cheeks, he turns back around, looking at her name on the cross, at the reminder… that she is gone, forever. His knees almost buckle, a sob threatens to rip from his lips but he doesn’t let it, he doesn’t allow himself to break down, even as the sadness and the guilt begins to consume him. 

“Robin,” he whispers, shakily. He knows he won’t get an answer, he knows he won’t get the sign that he’s been begging for, he knows he won’t hear her voice calling back to him, the only thing he hears is the rain, the rustling trees and his own heartbeat. He tastes the saltiness of his tears, he tastes the bitterness. “Birdie…”

She is gone and she’s not coming back. 

He lost her, and soon he will lose more. 

Soon his biggest fear will catch up to him. 

Being left behind, being all alone. 

It was bound to happen. 

Right?

-

Steve didn’t come out of his room all day. 

You haven’t seen him, haven’t heard from him, haven’t heard his voice in the hallway or anywhere else. 

He came home shortly after you the night before, you heard him talking to Nancy, heard her asking questions that he didn’t answer. You know she told him that you’re leaving today, told him to pack his bags and be ready by night. It’s getting dark out now, your bags are in the RV, as well as Nancy’s and Eddie’s, along with a box of pictures and other things that they refuse to leave behind. 

You are all ready to go, all except for him. 

Eddie is giddy, excited to finally hit the road, though you can also see his jumpiness, how he can’t seem to sit still, the anxiety of having to leave Steve behind is eating at him. 

Nancy is distracting herself, sitting at the dining table, her guns and knives sprawled across the table, a cloth in her hand as she cleans her weapons. 

You’re sitting by the window, looking into blank space. Sadness lingered in you all day, and it didn’t change throughout it. He planted thoughts into your head that you refused to think about or even consider, though now a part of you can’t help but feel anxious because what if… what if there is some truth to it? What if you are being a little too hopeful? What if you are being ignorant and foolish? 

You know he was hurt, and that hurt has triggered the anger, anger that he directed at you – he wanted to hurt someone and you were there, the perfect target, you are the reason why his friends are leaving now. 

You didn’t mention what you found out last night, not to Eddie nor Nancy. It only really sunk in this morning, when you woke up with a headache after crying yourself to sleep. 

You don’t know how he lost her but something tells you that she didn’t go peacefully. He blames himself, you saw it in his eyes. 

“We should go soon.” It’s Nancy who breaks the silence in the room, a determined look on her face. You can sense her hesitation, her nervousness. She doesn’t want to go without him, you saw the way her eyes kept flicking to the staircase waiting for him to come walking down the stairs with bags in his hands, he never did. She told him to be ready by 7pm, it’s 8 now. 

Eddie told you that Steve said goodbye, that he hugged him and Nancy, and prepared food and snacks for the road. No matter how much they begged and tried to convince him to come with them, it was to no avail. He never planned on leaving, not then, not now. 

A part of you wants to try, to go up to his room and talk to him again but you doubt he wants to see you, especially after last night. He hates you, you saw it in his eyes. He won’t change his mind, not for you. He hurt you, but you still don’t want him to stay here, to be alone, to be left behind. 

Eddie stops pacing around, he watches Nancy as she gets up from her seat, putting the guns and knives away into her backpack. 

“Nance,” Eddie hesitates, looking at her in uncertainty. 

She throws her backpack over her shoulder and shrugs at him, trying to look tough, trying to mask the worry on her face. 

“He made his choice, he wants to stay. I won’t force him to come with us.” That is all she says before she leaves the room, taking you by surprise with her sudden coldness. She walks out of the house without another word.

Eddie glances at you, taking in the frown on your face, the sadness behind your puffy eyes. He knows that something happened between you and Steve when you followed him out into the rain, last night. He suspects that he threw unkind words at you – you didn’t tell him anything, neither did Steve but Eddie knows it crashed between you. 

Now all he sees is hesitation in your eyes, despite the hurt written across your face. He can tell you don’t want to leave him behind. Eddie noticed that you had developed some kind of attachment to Steve, despite his constant cold shoulder. 

You keep your eyes trained on the ground, blinking rapidly as you get up, not moving away from the window just yet though. 

Eddie sighs, he walks over to the desk by the window, opening one of the drawers, he picks out a map he kept hidden, a copy of the one already in the RV. It’s marked up just like the other one, the town in California circled in a red color. He carries it over to the dining table, “in case he changes his mind,” he tells you. 

You furrow your eyebrows as you look between him and the map, “I thought you didn’t have a copy?” 

He makes his way over to you, a small smile grazing his lips, he places his palm on your shoulder, “guess I lied a little.” His brown eyes are sad, not matching the smile at all. He squeezes you, nodding softly before he steps away, looking around one more time, even though he’s done it a few times already today. “I’ll be outside.”

“Yeah…” 

He closes the door behind him, leaving you by yourself. 

You can’t say that you’re surprised by their sudden decision to leave today, but then again, they have been waiting for this moment for a long time. They’ve been waiting for it for a year, waiting for him to be ready. He never will be. 

You take a deep breath as you look around the house you found shelter in, found new friends in. You wouldn’t have been here if you didn’t follow him that day. You tug your jacket closer to your body, gripping it tightly. 

You don’t want to leave without him. 

But you are the last person to change his mind. 

You have known him for a few days only and yet he managed to crawl under your skin. You got used to him, despite his rough demeanor, despite yesterday. 

You make your way upstairs, you can’t leave without saying goodbye. 

But when you knock on his door, he doesn’t respond or open the door – not that you expected him to. You lean against the door frame, keeping your knuckle against the wooden door. 

“Steve?” You whisper shakily, hoping to hear his voice. “I uh… I just wanted to thank you, for letting me stay, I know you didn’t want to but still… thank you.”

You hear nothing on the other side, no shuffling, no footsteps, no sighs, nothing. 

A sigh falls from your lips, the sadness in you spreading further. 

“Despite everything, it was nice meeting you… Goodbye Steve.” 

You finally pull away from the wood, looking at the door one last moment before you head back downstairs and grab the backpack you left on the floor. You look around the house one last time and you can’t help but imagine him walking downstairs, where his friends once were, and see them all gone. Just himself and the ghost of what once was and never will be again.

It hurts to leave him behind, and you can’t even imagine how Nancy and Eddie feel. You have your answer once you head out and towards the back where you see Eddie wiping his cheek away while making sure the tires are all set, and how Nancy has her back towards the two of you, and her legs are slightly shaking as she looks at stuff into her weapon bag.

They are hurt from leaving him behind, way more than you are. You had to reassure them that even in loneliness, Steve will be safe. He is inside a community, guarded even if little, but he is still with people and in safety.

“Okay ladies, I think we are good to go.” Eddie says finally and you head over to Nancy, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, Nance.” You see her looking at the distance, towards the same way you followed Steve the night before. You see her gulp tightly, nodding at you before turning around and heading inside the RV first. You turn to see Eddie giving you a small comforting smile as he looks at the house one last time. 

He sighs as he turns towards you, bowing down as he points with his arm towards the open door of the RV. You can only smile so little at the theatrics, and you take a deep breath before you step inside, surprised to see just how well equipped it is. Two big seats at the front, driver and passenger, then followed by counters on the side, and then a couch on the other. A pull out couch. Then at the end of the kitchen counter sat a small booth, with a small table in the middle. 

You see there is a small little hallway, which has the door to the toilet, and then at the very back end you can see the big double bed. It has a sliding door to close it from everyone else if needed. You are amazed by it, a small and nice motorhome for the three of you. Eddie enters the RV as Nancy starts the vehicle. He closes the door behind him and he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“You like it? I installed the pull out couch myself. We have enough gas till the next possible gas station, and hopefully there’s still some left, so we need to make sure to not run out before that.” Nance only nods as you look up and open the bag cupboard at the top of the couch, putting your bag inside as well as Eddie’s and hers. You close it and you three hear the RV coming to life finally. 

“Good job Eddie.” Nancy finally smiles his way, and Eddie puffs out his chest as he sits in the passenger’s seat, pulling the map out of the glove compartment in front of him. He had marked down all possible places they could stop at to look for more food and gas. Even toiletries. He also marked all possible gas stations, and you realize they had been planning this for a very long time.

“Okay… goodbye Hawkins you piece of shit.” Eddie says, making you hum as you take a seat on the couch. Your body suddenly sways as the RV starts to move slowly, and the excitement starts to come back to you as well as the fear of what you might encounter. You are going to your family. You are going to find your family and you will be safer this time. You have people around you, armed and willing to protect you as much as you would protect them. You won’t sleep in the mud, looking for cover under the cup of the trees. You will be sleeping either on a nice couch, or the bed whenever available. 

You see how Nancy turns the lights on and off quickly, just enough to mark her way through the trees, not following the main road so no one would stop you all. Your hands were gripping the couch tightly, not wanting to look out the window, not wanting to look back, but you were itching to do so. 

It takes time because Nancy is going as slow as possible so the motorhome would not do that much of a sound thanks to the engine. You know that people are already sleeping by now, except for the guards at the front gate, and you are taking the closed off one. The one in all chains. 

Once you reach it, Nancy stops the RV right in front of it, Eddie getting up from the passenger’s seat to walk towards the cupboard underneath the sink of the kitchen, taking out some bolt cutters. Your eyes widen as he pulls those out and you turn to look at Nancy.

“Hang on, you are cutting those open– you are going to leave the gate open for all the community inside here!” Nancy sighs at your outburst and you hear the clanking of chains, you turn your head to see Eddie holding a new pair in his hands and a lock.

“We are not that reckless and selfish. It took me some time to find a spare pair of chains this size, and a lock, but– It’ll endure.” With those last words, he jumps off the RV, and you rush to the passenger seat to see him get into action, grabbing the cutters and start snapping the chains away. 

You’re biting your lip as you see the metals falling piece by piece. Eddie hesitates for just one second before he snaps open the last chain. He pushes one of the doors open slightly and Nancy turns on the bright lights instantly. You see how he pulls it open even more and you see how there is nothing out there, giving you guys the green light to go. He gives a nod towards the two of you and pushes the first gate open and then the next one. 

His eyes widen when one bright light shines your way, the guard light tower pointing your way. The sound of a loud siren blasting suddenly and you realize you’ve been caught. Nancy and you motion Eddie to leave the chain behind, that people will put it back together instead of him. 

“Shit, shit, shit!” Nancy curses loudly. 

Eddie snaps out of it as he rushes to the doors of the RV, the motorhome starting to move forward as you hear the screams of people, telling you to stop, to turn back, that it’s dangerous out there. The front of the vehicle is out and you’re almost passed the gate when Eddie’s head turns to his left, his panicked face falling as his eyes widen. 

“Eddie, get in!” You yell, trying to snap him out, and Nancy groans loudly.

“Munson, I’m stepping the gas whether you get fully inside or not–”

“It’s Steve!” Her eyes widen as well as yours. She doesn’t stop moving, instead slowing down. 

You rush towards the window, popping your head out and sure enough, you see him. 

He is running fast even with a bag hanging on his back, two duffel bags on each side of his hips, his bat in one hand, the other gripping a flashlight tightly. You hear Eddie egging him on, to keep running because Nancy is not stopping, she can’t. You see the flashlights of people running towards you, right behind Steve, ready to stop you all from stepping into the danger zone. 

He can’t feel his limbs anymore from how much he ran, from how dumb it was to not tell the three of you that he had actually packed, leaving the bags in his room. Dumb to tell you that he left to give his last goodbye to Robin’s parents and Robin herself. He spent all day with her. Had breakfast, had lunch, and finally dinner. 

He lost track of time, and when he returned to the house, none of you were in it. His heart had crumbled to the floor, but it was just a few minutes late, so if he had any luck, you three were still near. He grabbed everything as fast as he could, rushing into the kitchen to shove one last thing into his duffel bag, and then run out. He ran through the woods with his flashlight, following the broken bushes and the tire trails the vehicle left. 

As soon as the RV came into view, the lights from behind him turned on, his panic rising as he didn’t have a chance to even catch a breath. He saw how the officers and the guards started running towards him with their flashlights, and he took off. He ran as fast as his feet could take him, trying not to think of all the weight he was also carrying. He could hear Eddie calling for him, his hand reaching out already for Steve to grab.

He knew that the moment he grabbed Eddie’s hand, Hawkins would be a thing of the past. She would be the past. Everything would be the past. But Robin would have wanted him to move forward. She would have wanted him to keep on going. She would have kicked his ass if she found out he was willing to throw everything away just for her. She would have wanted him to actually live.

So he grabs onto Eddie’s hand.

Eddie pulls tightly with a grunt, using all his strength. Nancy picks up the speed and throws her foot onto the gas when Steve manages to put one foot on the first step of the RV. Eddie drags them both inside, falling onto the floor with Steve. 

You are stunned as you stare down at them both. You snap out of it when you feel the cold wind, you run towards the door and shut it, locking it.

Steve is panting, no, heaving as he tries to recover his breath on all fours, staring at the floor. Eddie is sitting up, his hand coming to rest on Steve’s back. The three of you are silent, not having expected Steve to appear out of nowhere at the last minute. 

“What… What happened?” Eddie asks, his own breathing heavy from the whole ordeal, and you can just stand over them both, looking as Steve starts to shake, your eyes coming to meet in the middle in worry.

“I– I was saying goodbye– I forgot to tell you, I’m so sorry–” And you can hear the choked up voice, your heart turning with sadness as Eddie’s eyes glistened, looking at his friend. Nancy couldn't stop driving, but she turned her head for just one second to look and you saw how a tear was running down her cheek, her gaze turning back to the road.

“Steve…” Eddie’s voice is low, a whisper and it was the key that opened the gate to Steve’s emotions. Through his heavy breaths, you start hearing his sobs. Choked up sobs that he wanted to swallow down, but it was impossible. Soon, his tears were hitting the floor as he stared down at it, his fingers digging into the carpet as memories flashed in his mind.

He could almost picture Robin waving at him from the gate that people were already closing. He could almost picture how she would be smiling and jumping happily the more the RV drove away. How she would be cheering him on. His cries were loud, knowing there is a part of him that was being left behind, a part that he will never in his life get back. 

You could hear the sniffles coming from the driver’s seat as well, quieter than Steve’s cries of pain, and you saw how Eddie was keeping a strong face for both his friends, especially Steve who was still trying to breathe through his sobs.

You just stood there as you waited, wanting to comfort the man that was on the floor, but you knew better. It was a moment that he needed to have with his friends, with his family. You felt your own tears flowing down your cheeks. You didn’t know Robin, but from the cries of your new found friends, you realized she was loved. She was very much loved.

The road ahead was uncertain, but in Steve’s mind, only one little thing resonated, one little voice that he could hear despite the dark clouds inside it, and the screams coming out of his mouth. If he was imagining it, he hoped it would never leave him. He might have gone crazy, but he was so happy to hear her voice, at least one last time.

‘Goodbye, Dingus.’

☀︎

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @thecreelhouse @tvserie-s-world @thesickestqrmydcll @crispystarfishhottub @sophal22 @definitionwanderlust @talkativecarnation @mysticalwoolenfroglegs @ariesandwolves @mortqlprojections @sattlersquarry @sherrylyn0628 @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @micheledawn1975 @keepingitlokiii @littleromanoff2005 @sunshine-mrk

[moonstruckme]

Hey! Unsure what happened but I copy+pasted a request into my doc and now it's gone :( Anyway to whoever sent this, thank you!

Request: can i request hurt/comofort with high!reader x buzzed!sirius (or poly!mar whatever you’d like) where reader smokes a little more then she can handle and he takes care of her but he’s like still a little high himself, if that makes sense TT just nice and lovey and dovey!!!!

cw: weed, greening out, mention of vomit/nausea

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 727 words

Sirius is trying to be comforting, but he keeps getting distracted by the feel of your back underneath his hand. The muscles of your shoulders are tight, your breathing stilted and your skin shiny with a thin layer of sweat. Sirius can’t stop thinking about how he’d like to rest his face in between your shoulder blades and kiss an adoring line down your spine. He worries it wouldn’t be very helpful. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is quieter than breath, a soft sigh drooping your shoulders as you let your head loll forward. 

Your body starts to list forward with it. Sirius weaves his arm under yours, settling down more comfortably on the bathroom floor and pulling you back against his chest. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” He kisses the crown of your head. “I should have warned you about this. I need to remember to be careful with you.” 

Caution isn’t really in Sirius’ nature, but however unwisely, you put a lot of trust in him. The weed you’d smoked tonight was a different strain than the one he’s shared with you before, but he’d forgotten to clue you in. You’d matched him hit for hit, and with your lower tolerance it hadn’t ended well. You’ve been sick more than once. 

“You’re so nice,” you whisper. Your voice sounds tight. Sirius’ chest contracts, worrying you’re starting to get teary. “You don’t have to take care of me, but you are. You’re so, so nice.” Definitely teary now. “I’m really sorry for ruining your night.” 

“Awe, sweetheart.” He kisses the side of your face with something akin to desperation. He already feels like his heart is going to spill right out of his ribcage, and your upset makes it about ten times worse. “You’re not ruining anything. Of course I have to take care of you, you’re my girl, you know? I want to.” 

He peers around you, trying to see your face. You’ve got that same, slightly spaced-out look you’ve had for the past hour, a sad little line between your brows. Sirius reaches up to smooth it out with his finger, and you turn toward him like you’d forgotten he was there. He wonders if this much affection can actually crush his bones to dust. It feels plausible.

“I love you,” he says. 

You sigh, fitting your head into the crook of his neck and shoulder. It’s not a happy sound, but he knows it’s not meant for him. “You, too.” 

You take his hand, turning it palm up and tracing the lines in his skin. Your touch is so light it tickles. He has a small scar from a failed attempt at cooking with James when he first moved out, and when you get to it you raise his palm to your lips, resting them there purposefully. 

“Can I have a hug?” you mumble against his skin. 

“Fuck yeah, always.” 

Sirius does the work of turning you around, your own coordination not spectacular at the moment, and your arms curl under his arms, wrists crossing between his shoulder blades. He thinks your hands might be making fists. For his part, he rubs up and down your spine slowly, squeezing intermittently, unsure how much you want. Sirius has always been shit at comfort. He’ll keep trying as long as you let him.

“I don’t like this,” you admit. Your face feels warm where it’s pressing into his shoulder, and Sirius realizes you might be crying again. He hugs you harder. “I can’t think.” 

He feels, very acutely, his heart fracturing. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs. “I’m so sorry. I know it’s awful.” 

“I’m scared,” you whimper. 

“I know, sweet girl.” He may well be crushing you now. If your ribs are breaking, you don’t seem inclined to say anything about it. “You’ll be okay, though, I promise. I’ve got you. Just try to relax, and I’ll take care of you, yeah?” You don’t respond, sniffling. Sirius rubs your back again. “Do you feel like you’re going to be sick any more?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” 

“Alright, my lovely. Let’s go to bed, okay? You might feel better when you wake up.” 

You hug him tighter. “Thank you for being so nice to me.” 

“Wrong again,” he says, tucking a kiss into your hair. “I’m not nice to you, I just love you too much.” 

[arixella]

Embers of the Tide (part 2)

╰┈➤ pairing: Ace x female! reader

a/n: pt. 1 pt.2

summary: Your world with Ace was warm, bright, and full of love—until a Devil Fruit discovery turned fatal, and the dawn broke with Thatch's blood staining the deck, forever altering everything.

wc: 1.7k

contains: angst, established relationship, hurt/comofort, grief

Dating Ace was like falling in love with fire.

Warm, bright, untamed — and occasionally a little dangerous in the way it pulled at your heart.

Since that night in your quarters, everything had changed — and yet, somehow, everything felt the same too. The crew had known something was up the second Ace started smiling more and you started disappearing at the same time as him. It didn’t take long for Thatch to put the pieces together (loudly, with exaggerated gasps) and Marco to confirm it with a smirk and a quiet, “About time.”

And Pops? He didn’t say much. Just let out a booming laugh and clapped Ace on the back so hard he nearly knocked him across the deck. “Take care of my daughter, yoi.”

After that, it was official.

You and Ace were together.

And everything was good. More than good.

Still… sometimes, you caught him being overly cautious. Like when his hand would hover before touching yours in public. Or when he’d ask mid-conversation, “Was that okay? Should I not have said that?” Always second-guessing himself, like he was afraid of messing something up or pushing too far.

You always reassured him, of course. A kiss to the cheek. A smile. A whispered “You’re perfect.” And it seemed to help. But that part of him—the boy who was told he shouldn’t have been born—never fully left.

You understood. You had your own scars too.

That’s probably why it worked.

A few days later, the Moby Dick docked by a new, uninhabited island. It was nothing special at first glance — some trees, a waterfall in the distance, and the sound of birds calling from the treetops. But you and Thatch had been itching to explore. You were both equally chaotic when paired together — a mix of curiosity and zero impulse control — and the crew knew it.

You met Ace near the edge of the deck, bag slung over your shoulder, Thatch already waiting below.

“You sure you’re good?” Ace asked, trying not to sound overly concerned. “Could come with you.”

You smiled, brushing a hand across his chest. “We’re just poking around. It’s not like we’re storming a marine base.”

He still frowned a little. “Just… watch Thatch. That idiot once got poisoned trying to pet a snake.”

“I heard that!” Thatch yelled from below.

You giggled and leaned up to kiss Ace. “We’ll be fine. I’ll be back before dinner.”

“…Okay. Be careful.”

Turns out, the island wasn’t as boring as it looked.

There were old ruins tucked into the jungle, half-eaten fruit you’d never seen before, and a pond that Thatch promptly fell into while trying to catch a frog. It was like watching a ten-year-old in a man’s body, and you laughed so hard your stomach hurt.

That’s when you found it — half-buried in a rotted wooden box near a stone arch.

A Devil Fruit.

Swirling with bright green and purple patterns, pulsing with strange energy. It hummed with danger and curiosity.

Both of you stared.

Then screamed in unison.

“WE FOUND A DEVIL FRUIT!”

You didn’t even wait — you grabbed it, tucked it in Thatch’s bag, and ran back toward the Moby Dick like kids racing home with treasure. The second you hit the deck, you were yelling and waving it in the air.

“YOU GUYS! LOOK WHAT WE FOUND!”

The crew swarmed around you, gasping and cheering, reaching for a look at the strange, pulsing fruit.

Ace was at your side in seconds, visibly relieved as he ruffled your hair and looked you over for injuries. “You’re okay.”

“Told you I’d be back before dinner,” you winked.

He smiled, but the tightness in his shoulders eased when you leaned into him.

Marco stepped closer, squinting at the fruit. “Only one of you can eat it, yoi.”

And just like that, you and Thatch both froze… then turned to each other.

“…Rock paper scissors?” you both said at the same time.

The crew groaned.

You squared off dramatically, setting the Devil Fruit between you like it was sacred. “Winner eats the fruit. Loser cooks dinner for the whole crew for a week.”

Thatch gasped. “That’s cold. I like it. You’re on.”

Ace stood beside you, arms crossed and smirking, as you both counted off.

“Rock… paper… scissors—SHOOT!”

You threw paper.

Thatch threw scissors.

“HAHA!” he screamed, snatching the fruit and holding it to the sky like a trophy. “Victory is mine!”

You groaned and flopped dramatically onto Ace, who caught you with a laugh.

“She let you win,” he teased Thatch.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that slander,” Thatch said, cradling the fruit like it was a newborn baby.

The crew erupted in laughter, and for a moment, everything was perfect.

You glanced up at Ace, and he was already looking at you — soft, warm, that small smile that only ever belonged to you.

The world was quiet.

The next day you woke just before the sun rose, the sky outside your small window slowly shifting from deep purple to pale gold. The soft creak of the Moby Dick beneath you, the gentle hush of waves against the hull—it was peaceful.

And beside you, Ace.

His chest rose and fell in an easy rhythm, his arm slung loosely around your waist, lips parted slightly as he breathed. There was something about seeing him like this—unguarded, soft, his usual firebanked down to gentle embers—that made your chest ache.

You reached up and brushed a strand of hair from his face.

He stirred slightly, one eye cracking open with a lazy blink.

“Mornin’...” he mumbled, voice hoarse with sleep.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” you whispered, smiling. “Go back to sleep. I’m just gonna watch the sunrise.”

“Mmm…” he grunted, already pulling the blanket tighter around his waist. “I’ll be right out…”

You kissed his forehead, then quietly slipped out of bed, grabbing your jacket on the way out.

The hallway was still, bathed in dim, golden light. You padded softly across the wooden floor, stepping onto the deck with bare feet.

And that’s when your heart stopped.

Thatch was there.

Lying in a growing pool of blood.

Eyes wide open, vacant.

Motionless.

Your breath caught in your throat. The world suddenly narrowed, the soft wind replaced by a deafening silence. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

The Devil Fruit was gone.

Your knees buckled.

“...no…”

Then the scream tore from your throat.

“HELP!”

You dropped to your knees beside him, hands shaking as they reached for his shoulders.

“Thatch?! THATCH—wake up! Please, wake up!”

You were sobbing, soaking yourself in his blood, hands pressing against his wounds, trying to stop it—even though it was already too late.

The sound of boots hitting the deck, men shouting, doors slamming—it all came at once.

“WHAT’S GOING ON?!”

“Ace, wait—!”

He pushed past the others.

And then he saw.

You. Covered in blood. Screaming. Shaking Thatch’s body, trying to bring him back.

Ace’s heart stopped.

“No…”

Marco was next.

He was by Thatch’s side in seconds, already checking for a pulse he knew wasn’t there. “He’s gone… he’s gone, yoi…”

Marco looked up at Ace, his voice firm but trembling. “Get her out of here. Now.”

You clutched Thatch’s shirt tighter. “No! No, I’m not leaving—he’s gonna wake up—he has to—!”

Ace grabbed you by the shoulders.

“(Y/N)—please—”

“LET GO OF ME!” you screamed, fighting against him with everything you had. “I can’t—I can’t just leave him!”

But Ace pulled you back, arms locking around your frame as you kicked and sobbed, dragging you away from the blood, away from Thatch, away from the horror now carved into your memory.

He shut the door behind you, the sound echoing like a gunshot.

And then—

Silence.

You collapsed onto the floor, your back against the wall, your body shaking but no sound coming out anymore. The tears still fell, but the screams had stopped.

Ace sank down beside you, silent, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.

He wanted to break something. Scream. Find whoever did this and burn them down to ash.

But you were here. Shattered. Empty.

And right now, that’s all that mattered.

So he stayed with you.

No fire. No words. Just quiet pain.

And the dawn light bleeding through the window, painting the room in cruel, golden hues.

♡♡♡

© 2025 arixella | please do not plagiarize or translate any of my work without my consent.

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Does pup ever have panic attacks? Has Ghost ever found them in the middle of one? If so, how does he react or help?

-🐛 anon

Y'all deserve a short, so here you go 💕

Red.

Your eyes couldn't shift from the frayed red lines of the scratches left on Ghost's arm. He'd been passing by the door just as you'd left the bathroom, but as usual he moved so quietly he'd startled you. You'd reacted before you could think to calm yourself, grabbing him and digging your claw like nails in while preparing to grab his neck with your other hand - however you hadn't followed through once you realised that it was just him.

"Pup," Ghost said calmly, speaking through his teeth to combat the stinging pain.

You finally looked up and met his eyes, whimpering as you wrung your hands together like sodden cloths. You couldn't believe you'd hurt him. For once you weren't merely concerned with what manner of punishment you'd be recieving for your transgression, you were already punishing yourself, tears rolling hotly down your cheeks. Ghost never ever hurt or punished you, he always gave you so much praise and encouragment, and now you'd turned around and bitten the hand that had so generously fed.

No words could come to you. You breathed low, feeling like you were scraping out what little oxygen you could from your belly, and felt your eyes expand all the while. The air around you turned to lead.

"Pup, it's ok. You just got a fright, didn't you?" Ghost murmured. "Hold on, just let me deal with this..."

You didn't need to be told to hold on. Every single little cell in your body had ground to a halt, infected with cold dread as you replayed the scratch over and over and over again in your mind. A slight tremble built like an earthquake, the chill stroking its way up your spine until it manifested into aching shivers.

"C'mon now, it's alright. Easy, Pup...Easy."

You barely realised Ghost had come back. He held his hands up placatingly and tried to approach you as slow as he could, taking the smallest steps, likely trying to avoid being scratched again you thought. Your ears twitched when he got closer, but still you were stuck in place. You were a deer facing down a shadow in the forest, twitching and breathing like those might be your last movements.

"That's it, easy. Easy now," Ghost soothes, finally reaching you.

You release a breath you didn't know you were holding when he wraps his arms around you. Your eyes close and you sob, its like a wailing spectre has been unleashed from its tomb. You scream out and wrap yourself around him, losing your surroundings as you register that not only have you not been reprimanded for that terrible show of violence, but Ghost still wants to care for you. Of course he does.

"It's alright," Ghost whispers, sluggishly marching you through to the living room. "Shh...shh now. No tears. You're safe with me - i know you didn't mean it. There's no punishment. Shhh."

Before you knew it you were sprawled on the couch, head buried in thick muscle and spiced citrus. He petted your head and murmured sweet comoforts, shushing you and letting the worst of the storm pass before he pulled your head from his chest and made you face him.

Tears continued to flow, but they rolled down your cheeks slower now. His bright eyes captured yours and forced you to keep your head up, frowning when your lip trembeled.

"You're ok, darlin'. What're you cryin' so hard for, huh?"

You ripped your gaze from him and to the hand that was stroking your cheek, purposefully looking at the messily applied bandage. Staring at the flecks of red. You did that. It was all your fault. Dangerous. Bad.

Ghost chuckled faintly and dismissed another tear, smoothing his thumb over your face again. The trail it left burned fiery on your flesh.

"You're not bad and you're not a danger to me," Ghost tutted. "You made a mistake, silly Pup. C'mere."

He pulled you to him again and rubbed smooth circles in your back, a healing spell that stopped the last of your wracking breaths. His warmth bled into you and soon enough calm reset the blaring alarms in your head and turned out all the bad thoughts. You sighed out in relief and hiccupped softly, registering your wet eyelashes sloppily flicking against your irritated skin.

"Don't...w-want to hurt you," you whined.

"I know. You're my good Pup," he said simply.

"But I did," you said, biting your lip when you caught sight of the bandage again.

Ghost sighed and turned your head away from it, playfully running his hands through your hair and ears.

"Tis' but a scratch," he said in a silly voice, eyes crinkling when you let out a gentle laugh. "You ever seen that movie?"

"Movie?" you questioned, tilting your head.

Ghost snorted and shook his head.

"Holy Grail - One of Soap's favourites," he said, holding his smile. "C'mon, we'll put it on. He'll be your best friend if you do those stupid quotes with 'im."

[gyubby99]

Vox: Is this the part where you tell me that if I hurt Mal, you'd kill me?

Carmellia: Oh, no. If you hurt her, she'd kill you herself and I won't do anything to help.

Vox:

Vox: That is oddly comoforting.

[storiesofsvu]

we need that miss novak hurt/comofort fic 😩

It’ll come soon!

[enjoltaire-is-canon]

When You Are In A Garden, Which Flowers Do You Pick?

“General Lamarque is dead,” breathed Enjolras as he closed his eyes and tilted his head upwards, allowing the sun to bath him in its glow. A lone tear rolled down his cheek but Grantaire made no move to wipe it. Sad as he might be that his lover was hurting, grief had a strange effect on him, it manifested his beauty.

“He has been sick for weeks now,” he said, walking up to Enjolras and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “You knew that was going to happen.”

“Yeah,” Enjolras opened his eyes and turned to him, wrapping his arms around his shoulder and burying his face in the crook of his neck. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.” His voice broke and he broke into violent sobs that racked his body.

“I know,” he whispered, locking his arms around him. “I know.” And he did. His mother was diagnosed with cancer four years before she died, and even though he had four years to accept her death, it had still come as a shock. He could only imagine what Enjolras was feeling, a few weeks to deal with death seemed cruel. He rubbed soft circled around Enjolras’s back in hopes of comforting him. He was aware that their friends were looking at them, their faces masks of sorrow. They were all sad about Lamarque’s death, but Enjolras had been the closest to him, they’d met up to discuss rallies as well as recent political moves, the man had become Enjolras’s mentor, and for Enjolras to see him dead… Saying the grief is unimaginable would be an understatement.

"Why is it that only the good people die?" Enjolras asked between sobs, his voice muffled against his neck.

"Everyone dies, Enj." He murmured, though he knew what he meant. The good people always die first, die young.

"But why him? Why now?" His sobbing had started to calm down, but the heartbreak was evident in his voice.

"When you're in a garden, which flowers do you pick?"

Enjolras didn't answer, but another wave of sobs overtook him, and that was enough proof that he'd understood. The most beautiful ones. You pick the most beautiful flowers, the ones that shine the brightest. And perhaps it was unfair, but when had life ever been fair?

They sat like that for a while, Enjolras crying and Grantaire rubbing comforting circles around his back. Their friends had left a couple of minutes ago, Jehan saying something about being downstairs to give them some privacy.

"I'm sorry," said Enjolras atlas, pulling back. "I shouldn't have broken down like that." He buried his hands in his pockets and turned to face the window, refusing to look at him.

"You don't have anything to apologise for," he said firmly. "We don't hide anything from each other, remember?"

Enjolras looked at him over his shoulder, a smile lighting up his features. "I do," he said softly, "and I wasn't apologising to you. I was apologising-" he turned around fully and his broke off mid-sentence. "Where is everyone?" He asked with a frown.

"They're downstairs," he answered with a smile of his own. "Do you want to go to them?"

"I- Yeah, I need to address them anyways. We have to plan the next rally, with Lama-" His bloodshot eyes teared up and he closed them for a moment in an attempt to regain his composure. "With recent events, we have a chance of achieving our goal."

"Enjolras," he said, placing a hand over the leaders sleeved arm. "You don't have to do anything. Not for today at least, no one will blame you."

Enjolras looked like he was about to argue with him for a moment before the fight deflated out if him, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "That sounds good," he said with a sad smile.

. . .

Once they were home, Grantaire forced Enjolras onto the couch that he’d formed a nest of blankets and throw pillows on. He then slipped Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s stone into the DVD and turned off the lights before nestling in with Enjolras. Nothing like a Harry Potter marathon for Enjolras to cry during, they could cuddle and pretend that he was crying over Hedwig or something, even though that was scene was far. He could cry over Sirius or Cedric, their deaths were closer. But he knew that Enjolras will pretend to cry over Professor Quirrell.

“Thank you,” whispered Enjolras a few hours later as Dumbledore spiraled down to his death.

He smiled in the darkness, knowing that Enjolras couldn’t see him and rubbed his cheek against his affectionately, not letting go of his hold on him. The top left side of his shirt was soaked, and he couldn’t help but agree that Dumbledore’s death was devastating.

[fanfictionsworld]

Hii can u please do sebastian reacting to (name) being scared of frogs? Like when they see one they panic and scream when the frogs get too close. ♡

Well Sebastian was very stunned when you told him that you were scared of frogs.

They are tiny animals who can not do anything to you.

You are so much bigger then them after all.

He thinks that you can not be that much scared of frogs,but things take turn when frogs showed up at manor.

You were walking down the hall way when you saw it.

You could not move.

You just started to scream,Sebastian heard you and came rushing to you thinking you got your self hurt.

But when he saw you were screaming over a frog he huged you from behind and calmed you down.

Sebastian took you to his room and proceed to comofort you and speak sweet things in to your ear to calm you down.

After you came to your senses Sebastian made you tea.

He told you that he was sorry that for telling you how foolish your fear of frog was.

He also said that he will try to keep frogs away from the manor as much as possible.

The trio took the frog outside by Sebastians order so that it would not scare you anymore.

Sebastian told you that it was safe to come out,and he swore to you that he will protect you from all the frogs in the world

[doodle-pops]

hear me out, i have an idea: once requests are open, i’d love to see a hanahaki disease au (or any other fictional love diseases tbh) 🙏 the silm just has so many possibilities for every ounce of angst ❣️ bc like,,,angst no comofort????

but since you’re still answering asks, how do you think this would play out?

What is it with you all and angst? Do you all love crying and feeling hurt all the time? Of all the angst, the Hanahaki. That's just so much pain nonnie. Though I agree with you, so much potential with this and the silm characters (feanorians). This would be a really great AU for Maedhros and Maglor. Other characters as well.

I have to think really hard on this because these elves are so hellbent on saving people and to know that the only way to save you is to return the true love....sheesh. Worst of all when it's unrequited love. It would kill them to know that there's the possibility that you could die (if they knew about the effects). Or worst, if they didn't know the effects and one day after years of not seeing one another, they show up to visit and learned of your death.

Someone would inform them of your passing and give them a letter you've left behind in which you poured your heart out explaining everything.

I'm all for the reader dying to make this more angsty than ever. So we'll have to go with the notion that they can't find a healer to resolve the disease and must have true love returned. Now that you've mentioned this, my brain is going brrrrrr with thoughts.

Not really wanting to jump onto the stereotype train for characters, but I see characters like Feanor, Celegorm and Curufin making this AU a lot more angsty since I pinpoint their reactions being borderline neglecting the reader. But this all depends on the timeframe, if it's pre! darkening or post! darkening. I could see the guilt many of these characters would feel. Arghhh

I have so many thoughts now 😅

[lulu-zodiac]

Can you drop some slow burn fic recs please? Maybe some lesser known ones if possible? Hope you have a great day!

yes, absolutely! here are some of my favourites:

slightly quicker slow burns:

grooming instincts

tags: canon au, wing!kink, first time, smut

notes: I'm a sucker for wing!kink fics and this is one of my all time favourites. it's a tantalisingly slow burn of dean trying to help cas through a molt with all my favourite tropes. it's sweet and hot and addictive and you will absolutely not regret reading it!

things happen (they do, they do, and they do)

tags: canon au, pining, repressed!dean, flustered!dean, smut

notes: gorgeously written, super in character emotional slow burn where cas comes back from the empty and slowly woos dean

more than ever

tags: bunker!fic, first time, pining

notes: a super cute slow burn fic with human cas settling into the bunker and dean being forced to come to terms with his feelings

human error

tags: canon au, case!fic, human!cas, sharing a bed, pining, masturbation

notes: another jemariel fic because I am just addicted to the way she writes slow burns and the dynamic between dean and cas. so so good!

the slowest of slow burns:

four letter word for intercourse

tags: college au, pining, smut, bdsm, first time, masturbation, emotional hurt/comofort

notes: no slow burn rec list would be complete without this fic, the slowest slow burn to ever burn! truly one of the best things I've EVER read, published work included. the characterisation and dialogue is incredible, and it honestly changed the whole way I think about sex and intimacy. there's a reason everyone talks about this fic - if you haven't read it go and read it!!!! (but don't read it in one go: it's 200,000 words and you will melt your brain. take breaks. drink tea)

molting expectations

tags: au, wing!kink, pining, masturbation, first time, smut, angel mating season, bed sharing

notes: the dynamic between dean and cas in this fic is so poignant and honestly just beautiful. a super slow burn with angel!cas and human!dean that's heartwarming and adorable and hot and emotional all at once. definitely a really good feelgood slow burn!

everything comes back to you

tags: case!fic, fake/pretend relationship, bed sharing, first time

notes: this is one of my all time favourite feelgood fics to read! it has so many of my favourite tropes: case!fic, dean being bad at feelings, bed sharing, and such a compelling slow burn. I've re-read this fic so many times its ridiculous.

smoke in the mirror

tags: college au, artist!cas, denial, first time, falling in love

notes: this fic is special. I don't know how to describe it other than to say that once you read it you'll never forget it. it's the most beautiful, heart-wrenching, emotional slow burn I've ever read. the author captures the terrifying beauty of falling in love perfectly.

a turn of the earth

tags: canon au, time-travel, pining, first time

notes: this is hands down one of the best ever dean-centric fics I've read. it's so in character and it's just absolutely incredible. possibly my all time favourite slow-burn fic. I don't cry easily, but I cried at this fic (don't worry, it doesn't have a sad ending)

hope you enjoy! this has also made me realise that although slow burn fics are my all time favourites, I actually don't have a whole lot of them bookmarked... if anyone has any good slow burn recs then please hit me up!

happy reading, hope you have a lovely day too <3

[darkbutterflyart]

Made some sketches for MTC based of @/ bverdy 's hurt/comofort meme!

Here are some of the suggestions from my insta followers!

I also thought it would be fun to share some of my thoughts next to the sketches. Hope that my handwriting is readable😅

Hope you enjoy them aswell!!🥺💙

[chocominnie]

One Last Time 04  —  Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Previous : 00 01 02 03

⇢ Word Count : 4.7k

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

Last night can’t get out of your mind. It’s not like you to do such a dumb thing. Kissing Jimin... you didn’t know what had gotten into you last night. The last thing you’d ever want to do is have someone go through the same thing you did with Jimin when he had cheated on you. Your mind raced all night thinking if that kiss, that one sole kiss, would make you the bad guy? Make this whole situation worse? 

Wrong.

Both of you were vulnerable and just not the same. Of course you’re still tender to the subject of and about him, and forever will have have a soft spot for Jimin. You didn’t expect that to happen though. 

‘‘ Yes.. Yes.. Okay.. I understand.”

You drone on for the millionth time today. Only 9 am and calls are making their way to you. You’ve been caught. Someone spotted you and Jimin last night walking to your apartment. Luckily the pictures were only garage scenes of you and him. Jimin’s head hanging low trailing a distance behind you while you hold your sore arm. Thankfully, by the looks of the new articles every damn hour, they think that you had hurt yourself and Jimin was supposedly there for you for comofort.

The fanpages are going to have a field day with that.

Your manager continues to lecture you about how this could start a scandal, how you should of been more careful, and finally that those words everyone has told you before. He wasn’t good to you, move on.

‘‘ Listen im just going to be with Ryan today and she’s bringing Jungkook. We are heading over to Ryan’s office to discuss things and what not.’‘ You sigh into the phone, wanting to hang up already.

Your manager on the other line is hesitant for you to go, but gives in once you say you’ll only be an hour in and out. That’s the only way you’ll get to go out today. Whenever small scandals like this brew up, the management company would make you stay low for the next three days. 

You both say your goodbyes and then hang up. Finally. Somewhere in the room Clara lets out one of her tiny meows making you smile to yourself. The day planned ahead is way more exciting than you worrying to yourself

‘‘ Baby please. I have to go’‘

Isabel smirks lowly while shaking her head. Jimin watches her intensively as her hands roam all around his now bare chest, that was covered with a shirt two minutes ago.

‘‘ Jimin, you and I both know that we haven’t had much time to ourselves lately.’‘

Her dainty fingertips trace over his forming abs one by one staring him straight in the eyes. He bites his lip hard just before letting out a useless groan with his head thrown back in the chair. It’s true. With all the celebrity show appearances they’ve had, the quality time together has been cut short.

He ries to pry her hands away from his jeans but it’s no use. “ I have to leave, Jungook wants me at Ryan’s office in twenty minutes.”

Her face turns into a pout, lifting her hands from his jeans.  ‘’ So he’s more important than your girlfriend?’’

‘‘ Well I mean he is my blood broth- Fuck!’’

It’ was quick enough to where he didn’t feel it coming. Before he knew it, his jeans were unbuttoned and her mouth glides across the imprint of his shaft hiding behind his boxers. “ We can stop and you can leave.. if you want..” She knows exactly what shes doing by making sure her voice is low and those round eyes meeting his. 

His groans only become louder when she takes a long, slow lick from the base to the tip. There’s no way on hell he’ll miss this opportunity to get some head. Jimin’s craving for sex has been high lately and with no time to recieve pleasure, he damn sure wasn’t gonna let up this offer. “ Fuck that. Keep going my love.”

Grabbing a fistful of Isabel’s hair, he yanks his boxers down revealing his thick, hard member hat springs up to his belly button. Isabel smirks at him just before taking the whole thing down her throat making Jimin moan out louder in pleasure. The sound of sucking, wet noises fill the studio’s ambiance.

Jimin watches her intensely while letting out low groans and growls as her bobbing head becomes quicker. This isn’t what he wants truly.  What he wants is you. You is who he wishes who’d be pleasuring him right now. The way you’d sometimes gag on him when his dick filled your mouth completely was something he’d always enjoyed seeing. The way your eyes water with him stuffed in your mouth but determined to go on was a major turn on for him. He wants you and only you. Right now in this moment Isabel doesn’t mean shit to him but you do. 

He can’t help but to lean back in his chair and close his eyes waiting to chase his high, all with the thoughts of you and your guises past sexual encounters turning him on even more with the lost track of time in the back of his mind.

You on the other hand, wait with Jungkook and Ryan who are getting a bit anxious waiting for the boy’s arrival. You of course didn’t want him to come. It’ll only make things more complicated than it is right now. Essentially you were going to leave when Jungkook said he’d be inviting Jimin.. yet again. 

Seeing as though when you were on your way to the office, you had glanced at the clouds and could see a big thunderstorm brewing. You’d rather not take your chances of being rained on while walking back to your apartment.

‘‘ Geez where is this guy? He’s always late ever since he’s been with Isa-”

A shove by Ryan shuts him right up before finishing his sentence. Ryan gives him a glare and a few utters of words to him before turning back to the giant window that gazes over the bright nightlife of Seoul.

One part of you wishes for Jimin not to actually show up but the other does. Just to see his face and reaction too you ever since yesterday. But just for the sake of it, you won’t bring it up. Play it off like it never happened.

‘‘ Was it really necessary for us to come at night? We couldn’t of just come during the day?’’ Jungkook says, walking over to her.

He snakes his arms around his waist placing gentle butterfly kisses around her neck. The reflection off the mirror shows her facial expression, a slight smile as they sway from side to side. A ping of happiness shoots through you at the sight of them. It reminds you of you and Jimin. That happiness quickly shuts down.

You smile to yourself, “Well i’m a model, Jungkook and his brother are idols, and you’re an upcoming fashion designer dating said Idol. ”

Jungkook clears his throat before placing his arm gently around Ryan, “ Yeah she’s MY girlfriend.’’ He says proudly. Ryan shakes her head while playfully rolling her eyes. 

You giggle along with her. It’s only been a short while since he’s asked her and he seems so happy and proud with her. Something you wish that Jimin wouldn’t have ruined for you two.

‘‘ Nobody knows we are dating and If paparazzi catches you coming to my office it’s going to stir up something rather it be little or not.’‘ Ryan sighs, sitting down next to you on the white couch.

Jungkook pauses to be silent for a second but continues on, “ That would happen regardless because paparazzi comes out at any time of day. We just so happen not to get caught.’’

Your frail hands begin to play with the sleeve of your shirt at the wrists. Something you do when anxious but trying to keep calm. You’re starting to get annoyed with this couple talk. You’re happy for them but rubbing it in is starting to hurt a bit. Where is he at?

‘‘ You know what im tired of waiting. If he comes he comes. If he doesn’t oh well we already knew he’s an asshole because of that girl now.” Ryan scoffs.

She folds her arms as she leans onto Jungkook who’s now sitting on the arm of the couch. He chuckles at her pouting and sudden anger just before giving her a kiss on the forehead.

You take in the sight of them. Two love birds that mean the world to each other. You wouldn’t dare want nor try to break them up. You knew Jungkook has been waiting for that moment to ask her. When he did on that day Ryan couldn’t of been even more happier.

And if as on cue, that familiar face comes in quietly with two large brown bags in his hands. You choose not to make eye contact with him when he stops infront of the couch, glancing at you.

‘‘ Im sorry im late. I bought food for us..” He pleads for forgiveness. If it was up to you then you wouldn’t have forgiven him. Hell, you still don’t want to forgive him for that act last night. Yet you can’t be a hypocrite because you’re just as guilty.

Jungkook takes the bags from him due to the way to familiar scent coming from them. Jajangmyeon. His favorite noodles of all time. A quick way to earn his forgiveness of anything.

‘‘ You are forgiven don’t let it happen again,”  He says, smiling ear to ear as he pulls out his serving of noodles.

Ryan hands you a pair of chopsticks and your serving of noodles. You thank her and look down at the bowl. If you did eat it that means you forgave him, if you didn’t that means you wont. Your mind doesn’t know which one to pick.

While everyone sits there talking amongst themselves you sit there with chopsticks in hand zoned out. You seen the hickies when he had came in. When he had tilted his head announcing his arrival, thats when you saw it peeking from under his scarf. that The dark bruises peaked up and back into hiding whenever he moved.

‘‘ You don’t like the noodles?” Jungkook says, taking a big bite of noodles then slurping them up.

Ryan gives you one of your guises code looks but you give one back to say you are fine. ‘’ Im sorry I was just zoned out.’’

You don’t engage on any of the conversation instead you sit there eating your noodles quietly until they’re gone. That is until the real reason why you are here is brought up.

‘‘ We are here because me and Jungkook have thought about you guys.” Ryan glances at the boy who’s now wiping his face free of sauce.

Great. When are people going to stop doing that though?

‘‘ Ryan come on now, I honestly don’t care. He’s happy with her and I am with myself. Im serious. Please stop thinking about things like this. Im happy can’t you see that! ‘‘ By this point you know you’re all worked up.

It isn’t the truth, but you just want everyone to stop worrying so you could move on. Bringing the whole situation up all the time is draining for you and you’d rather not be reminded of Jimin and what he does and how he’s doing.

Jimin keeps quite with a stare that’s intense on you. You stare right back at him with an emotionless expression. The both of your eyes never leave each-other but you knew it had hurt him. Saying that you’re fine but he knows you’re bothered a lot.

Jungkook sighs heavily, “Baby-Cheeks don’t get all upset now. We are just worried solely on you. Even Jimin is and we all came to an agreement to have this civil conversation right here and now because all of it needs to be addressed.”

You cock your head slightly to the side not leaving Jimin’s eyes. You knew for a fact that this entire conversation is his doing just by Jungkook saying that last sentence. 

“ I told you to stop worrying about me. I really meant it. I’m fine. I am F I N E .’’ You spell out the words, then shake your head clearly pissed off. 

‘‘ But you aren’t. You constantly lose focus and don’t talk as much. Im worried for you so much that it pains me to even see you like this.” Jimin bites his lips to prevent from breaking down. You know that expression all to well.

That still doesn’t mean he should be worrying about you. You two are no longer together and no matter how many times you scream it to the top of your lungs each time, nobody listens to you.

‘‘ I am fine. I promise you guys. I’ve just had a comeback and they set me on a strict diet for the next few months and I go to the gym more than I used to because that’s what us models do. Since I have been absent for a year now my break time is over. The reason I zone out is because I have a busy schedule and sleep is whenever I can get it so that makes me tired often. I am fine.”

Your explanation is partially true and you do feel bad for lying on some of the parts but knowing them they will keep doing whatever to make things right. It’s time for you and them to stop worrying about Jimin and your relationship with each other.

The group doesn’t say anything after that. You tried to keep the best serious tone you had to explain that to them. Luckily they fell through and believed it. All except Jimin.

‘‘ Now can we move on? Is everything okay now?”  You ask, looking at both Ryan and Jungkook. They both shake their head slowly still unsure of what to think.

‘‘ Well since that is over with, lets all take our leave yeah?” Ryan sighs, collecting everybody’s trash from the food. You nod your head and begin to help her while the boys go somewhere in the room to talk privately together.

You don’t care enough to want to know about what they’re saying. As long as they don’t bring anything of worriedness about you again then it’s okay. Soon after the room is all cleaned up you grab your coat and scarf. Jungkook grabs Ryan’s and helps her into hers, zipping it all the way up.

‘‘ My baby can’t catch a cold.” He giggles before placing a kiss on her forehead. Ryan turns a deep red in her cheeks as he continues to dress her properly for the snow outside.

‘‘ Can we talk privately again?’‘ A quite voice says behind you. You knew it all to well. But you don’t turn around at all while slipping your coat on.

‘‘ I’ve thought I made myself clear. I don’t need to say it again. Please just accept it.”  The maroon colored scarf is gently placed around you from behind.

You grab his hands to stop him but he’s quick enough to come in-front of you and begin to wrap it for you. “ You lied. You can fool them but not me.’’

You break his hands away from the scarf, making sure to glare at him before you storm out of the office. All of the pressure and just concern in general is getting to you. It’s not like you to get worked up to this point. You hate making scenes and you knew that when you left like that it’s going to spark more curiousness.

The heel of your black suede thigh high boots click down the hallway fast as tears feel the brim of your eyes. Why wont they just leave it be?

After taking the long way out and going down three flights of stairs from the emergency exit, you make it down to the lobby and out the rotating doors.

When you do you almost choke out a whimper at the sight at Jimin greeting Isabel with a hug in which she pulls him down to a deep passionate kiss while waiting in-front of his car.

He was just upstairs dressing you properly, but kissing on her a few minutes later. Typical Jimin.

You bite your lip hard enough for the taste of blood to fill your mouth to prevent from crying right then and there. You can’t show her any sign of weakness. This is what she wants you to do. Cry and breakdown in-front of her to gain victory. She can’t have it. She wont have it.

You slip your hands into the coat pockets and begin your journey down the street. Catching a taxi would be no use. The cold harsh wind mixing with the hard drops of rain feel euphoric but numb to you.

‘‘ What are you doing? You’ll catch a cold for walking in this type of weather!” A voice yells far from behind you.

You don’t bother to look back at him. You up your pace just by a little to get that voice far away from you as possible. He kissed you last night, but kissed her right infront of you. The lump in your throat is sore and your heart hurts with each step you take.  Is this how the game goes? It hurts. It hurts a lot. 

 The wind blows harsh and the rain blows on your face making your makeup wet but not smeared. The mascara running down your face doesn’t matter from your wet tears.

 The stop lights turn yellow, red, and then green a couple of times. You count the number of changes before walking past it. Three times total.

Yellow

Red

Green

then back again.

The thunder roars causing you to jump a bit, but you’re numb to any noise around you anyways. You sniffle repeatedly to stop your nose from running but why not just let it run? Why not just let everything go. Let yourself go. Yeah that sounds about right. Let yourself g-

The blackness of your vision is sudden. No chance to react when the sound disappears from it. To the ground your body goes, laying there in a puddle of water. Your eyes blink slowly when you wince in pain upon bringing your hand up to your head. Vision goes in and out, in and out. You can’t hear the disorted person above you screaming and shaking you just before blacking out again.

The look of horror on his face and adrenaline runs through his body as soon as your eyes close. He thinks it’s his fault. His fault for wanting to keep talking to you. His fault for kissing you last night. His fault for stressing you out to your limits for you to walk home instead of asking him for a ride.

Running his hand through his hair, he slowly picks up your limp body. He saw that fall, and that fall was hard. You slipped on a decent sized amount of a dirt and mud mixture from not paying attention. Tears roll down his eyes when he places you in the passenger seat to buckle your seatbelt where your chest rises up and down. A sign of life.

The ride to your house is hell for him. Constantly hitting the steering wheel out of anger from himself and crying loudly wishing for you to be fine and okay. The hospital wasn’t an option right now. If paparazzi saw him taking you in unconcious right after the small scandal, he’d be sure that he’d be on the news for the next two weeks for supposedly abusing you, which isn’t the case.

It doesn’t take him long to arrive, considering he was tokyo drifting through the streets of Seoul. Laying your body on your bed, he sees the bottom of your outfit is dirty with mud. At first he hesitates but keeping muddy clothes on you wouldn’t be right of him.

After picking out some sweatpants, he moves on to your hoodie collection and spots one in the back of the drawer folded into a ball. Jimin lets out a small laugh when he realizes its one of his. It must of ended up here in transit when packing from the old apartment.

Nevertheless, he decides it’s that one you’ll be wearing and not anyone of the others. When it comes time to undress you, he looks away when taking off your clothes and putting the new clothes on. He tucks you in when done, planting a small kiss on your forehead just before going to get an icepack for you to place it on your head.

The sound of cartoons playing in a distance wakes you up. Your eyes stir open until full view. The throbbing of your head makes you wince a little. You’re just as more confused as to when you made it into your apartment let alone your room.

‘‘ You’re awake?’‘

He places the icepack on the back of your head but when he goes to grab your hand to make you secure it, your heart skips a beat when his soft hand touches yours. It’s been a while since you last had his warm touch against yours. 

The thoughts in your head stops when he lets go of your now cold hand. ‘‘ Why are you here?”  You say, finally looking at him.

‘‘ You fell. You fell on a puddle of mud while crossing over to the next sidewalk.” He sighs, eyes staring at you with anger yet relief. Instead of fighting back for the sake of your throbbing head, you just look down.

Thats when you notice the new set of clothes on your body. You certainly weren’t wearing this hoodie before. In fact you knew for a fact that this particular hoodie was balled up in the back of your dresser drawer. It’s his. 

 “ You undressed me?” You yell, furrowing your eyebrows at him. You pull the cover closer up to your body out of embarassment but Jimin doesn’t care. He’s more worried about the fall than the undressing.

“ Do you fucking know how got damn worried I was?” Jimin walks over to you with his arms crossed and jaw clenching. You want to hide right about now. “You’re more worried about if I was a pervert or not but news flash, I didn’t even look at you while undressing you. I’m not the asshole you think I am.”  

Silence is golden.

‘‘ We all shouldn’t have been out there with a storm coming, but we came to the office for your sake. You keep putting yourself at risk, just stop!‘‘ He semi-yells at you. 

You know he’s correct but that doesn’t stop you from forming the lecture into an arguement.

‘‘ Risk? I don’t take risks unless necessary. I was just minding my business and walking home. I guess I wasn’t mindful for that the weather wasn’t suitable for walking. Thank you for tending to me.’’

The boy scoffs with a sarcastic smile on his face backing away from your bed. You close your eyes knowing you shouldn’t of said that. ‘‘ Wasn’t mindful? Really? Why can’t you just listen to me whenever I need you to?”

‘‘ You were with Isabel. I don’t have anything to do with your guys relationship at all. I didn’t want to seem like a threat to her. ‘‘

Jimin sighs and rubs his temples, ‘’ You know you’re hard headed right? Do you think I give a flying fuck if she was there or not? You health and you yourself are important to me. ‘’

Here we go again.

‘‘ I said don’t worr-’‘

Jimin raises up quickly with anger and sadness written all over his face, ‘’ I don’t care what you say. Fucking listen to me when I say so! I’m going to worry about you until the day I die and cannot breathe anymore! Accept it okay?’’ He semi- yells, chest heaving up and down fast.

You keep your eyes away from his. You knew it would happen. You knew he would blow up somehow today.

‘‘ Im not going to accept it. Want to know why? I’m not your girlfriend anymore. I have to accept the fact that you no longer are in a relationship with me Jimin. You need to too.’‘

Jimin sighs, pacing back in forth across the wooden floor while running his fingers through his hair repeatedly, “ I was hoping it wouldn’t have to be like this. I’m not letting it happen anymore. From now on I will be checking on you everyday. Understand?’’

‘‘ No I don-”

‘‘ Understand?’‘ He growls, head whipping towards your direction.

There it goes. Pissed off Jimin. The side of his dominance that he dares anyone to overpower.

‘‘ Jimin you cannot come he-”

He shoots you a glare wanting his question answered now. You bite your lip making sure to shut the fuck up at this point. Anything you say after you know would do damage. ‘‘ Do you. Fucking. Understand?’‘

You nod your head. When he becomes like this there isn’t any way to stop him or change his mind.

‘‘ Good. Im not leaving for the night.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “Woah Jimin. Okay that’s too far. That’s considered cheating on Isabel.”

‘‘ It’s not. Not if im not with her anymore.’‘

Your heart jumps at those words. Not with her anymore?

‘‘ You honestly didn’t have to break up with her for me.”

You know you’d honestly feel very bad, but not as bad because she honestly deserves it for being a homewrecker. Then again, what does that make you?

‘‘ We technically are on a break. Im planning to break up with her in a couple of days.” He says, turning the blaring hot heater that was turned on prior to you waking up, onto it’s low settings.

You decide that’s enough of questions and to just enjoy his company there while it lasts. Putting the cover back down, you pick up your phone from the nightstand. A few texts from your manager, a missed call from Ryan. By the looks of it they both don’t know what happened and that somehow relieves you. 

Looking back up at him, you notice him turned around about to take off his shirt. His back muscles are evident and flex whenever he moves. You miss those. The way they’d feel under your hands and nails when he used to be ontop of you giving you the best nights of your life.

You hadn’t known he had turned around because you’re too deep in thought recalling those nights. “ Im assuming you like what you see?”

So you’ve been caught. “ No. Put your shirt back on.” Its a lie but you can’t admit to daydreaming about him.

‘‘ Hush im just changing into new clothes.’‘

You watch him go to your bottom left dresser and it all clicks to you. Back when you both shared an apartment Jimin kept extra clothing for emergencies always in the left bottom drawer.

You don’t know why, but you felt that it was tradition to put his extra clothing inside the bottom left drawer when you moved into here. Jimin had left the box of emergency clothing, on accident, with you as the both of you moved out.

When things had arrived here and you started unpacking you had seen what was inside the box. Instead of calling him to retrieve it, you just placed them in the bottom left drawer of your dresser in case something had ever happened where he was in need.

And that scenario just so happened to play out today.

You close your eyes as he casually slips his pants off in front of you. You want to peak but choose not to. ‘‘ Why are you covering your eyes? You’ve seen all of me before.”

And you want to see it all again.

‘‘ Yeah whatever. Im sleepy.’‘

 You rub your eyes and let out a quite yawn. You can feel his eyes staring into you so you turn to face him while getting comfortable under the covers.

Jimin turns out the lights first and then the t.v. Pitch black just how you like it.

‘‘ I forgot how cute you can be.’‘ He shakes his head, pulling you closer to him to where you’re laying on his chest with his arms wrapped around you.

His heartbeat is relaxing to you. So relaxing that soon enough, the both of you are fast asleep tangled in each-others love.

Once again, you fell for his sweet-talking and little white lies. All because you want another chance, one last time.

[ursbearhug]

Now that I left the sewing headache behind and I can wind down in my bed and at tumblr dot com, I'll confess something that has been gnawing at me lately.

In the grand scheem of things, I think it is only right and sensible to communicate and ask how person wants to be adressed.

In my adventure with tumblr, by scrolling through notes sometimes, I see a very clear distaste for comments made by gainer blogs. I personally have no beef with or interest in gaining, and I sort of needed to be pointed to reasons as to why these comments affect one's well being negatively. If you think "it's obvious" then for no other reason than wanting to know better, we can call me an idiot I don't really care.

So I've had this conversation with my partner before, so I know I'm not hitting any soft spots by calling him "my big guy" or pointing out his general softness and roundness and adorableness.

So as much as I know it's probably my anxiety brewing some nonsense concoctions in my brain, I feel like I'm actively hurting him and he's hating me and refusing to tell me. I wish my anxiety got a clue and read the room and left.

I like him the way he is; fat and round and fluffy and soft and cuddly. He's perfectly friend shaped. And as a matter of fact, I'd still like him if he got into whatever shape he find comoforting and comfortable and enjoyable. I care about more than what he looks like and in the end I find his comfort of being more important than anything else.

We're not married and every time I call him "huge" or "round" I feel like I'm producing one of 13 reasons why he will divorce me.

And the funny bit? There has been exactly 0 negative response so far. It's not like he told me "hey I'd appreciate it if you stopped calling me [place word]". When asked he stated what is no bueno, these words (which weren't really in my vocabulary anyway) were now banished to the shadow realm, never to be seen again. And I still feel as if I'm stabbing him when I say stuff like "I wanna rub your lil belly".

Bitch can I pick a struggle?

Anxiety could at least respect office hours.