MOTHER HEN: PART ELEVEN
parings: hawks x mother!reader
wordcount: 2.2k
notes: actually shed a tear while writing this ngl…
warnings: angst.
summary: you, the mother of Fumikage Tokoyami, are just a simple nurse! Who caught the eye of a certain pro.
just a week away until the attack.
He should tell you.
right?
No, the hero’s will win so there’s no point.
but, hawks will say that your a very convincing person.
Always kissing and- nuzzling on him asking if everything’s alright.
honestly, your quite good at getting things out of him.
That whole keigo thing? Woof- now even he was kinda surprised by that.
If hawks remembers correctly, Fumikage will find out about the whole operation the day of or at least the day before.
And hawks will make sure he keeps his mouth shut.
Usually- hawks just stays around the liberation to keep an eye on them.
Twice is alright- little dumb- but alright.
Dabi, knows of you.
Well now he does.
Hawks really shouldn’t have made you his home screen.
“Who’s that?” His raspy voice calls from behind hawks.
Hawks jumps slightly, not really expecting a visit from Dabi as he was keeping an eye on Twice.
“She’s a..co-worker.” Hawks says slowly, calculated.
“Your co-worker is your Home Screen?” Dabi questions.
Hawks pauses for a moment, “it was a prank- never got around to changing the screen.”
Dabi hums like he believes him, but hawks knows it was a shitty cover.
Are you in danger now?
Dabis got a way of getting information- could he get yours?
No- no way, he couldn’t hurt you before the attack, no chance.
You asked what was wrong with hawks that night too.
Not because he looked off, but because he held you a little tighter than he usually did.
Your skin felt wet as you drifted away into sleep that night too.
6 days until the attack.
Hawks wanted to ask for an off day before the attack, but decided not to.
There was no time to take a break so close to the attack.
Fumikage visited later in the evening.
It’s nice because you spend the mornings alone usually if you’re not at work.
Hawks comes home late a lot so maybe your more alone than your thinking.
Fumikage would spend the entire week with you if he could.
4 days until the attack.
Hawks didn’t come home.
Fumikage didn’t visit.
You spent your off day alone.
Maybe you should’ve told someone you were off, or hung out with your friends that came with you to the club.
You would just like to stay in bed today though.
2 days until the attack.
Hawks came home, never told you where he was off the previous days.
Fumikage did not visit.
You tried to call but he didn’t answer.
You were worried but decided not to dwell on it.
Hawks told Fumikage about the attack before someone else could, told him not to say a word to you.
Fumikage would’ve liked to answer the phone but, he was afraid the words would pour out of his mouth.
The day of the attack.
Hawks kiss lingered a little longer than it usually did.
You noticed.
And Fumikage sent you a small, “love you mom, hope you have a good day” text.
Which he doesn’t do usually.
But you were stuck at home again, you’d gathered up a lot of off days this year.
Your boss said you were too hard of a worker, maybe that was true but you want the best for Fumikage.
Fumikage is on his own at the dorms now though, is there a point in working so hard anymore when you have enough money?
you decide not to dwell on it.
Instead putting your efforts into the laundry that hadn’t been touched in a good minute.
You were only slightly upset when you realized Fumikages clothes were barely in the pile.
He had no reason to come and bring his mother his dirty clothes when he could do them at the dorms.
Hawks- Keigos clothes were always messily thrown into the bathroom, you never blamed him for never putting them in the laundry basket.
He worked hard, he deserved to let his clothes be a little bit everywhere if he wanted.
Keigo, it’s a nice name. Keigo says he likes how you say it.
You like the name, maybe one day you could meet the woman who gave it to him?
your aware of his childhood, his father more much more physical than his mother.
Does he keep contact with her? Would he even want you meeting her?
no point in thinking about it, Keigo will tell you when he’s ready.
But he’ll have to be prepared to meet your family, they won’t like him too much at first but maybe they’ll warm up.
They’ll love hero hawks- but normal hawks?
They were furious when you told them you broke it off with Ryuji, you couldn’t stand to tell them the reason.
And when they first found out you were pregnant with Fumikage? Lord, you still have nightmares about that day.
They didn’t want him. And at first you didn’t either but…
When you first got the check up, they asked if you wanted to see him, said that he’d be visible enough.
You didn’t want to abort after that.
And you thought that maybe you could give him to a family less fortunate.
Your family liked that idea.
You were alone in the hospital room.
and then the doctors came, then Fumikage.
they gave him to you, let you have a moment of quiet with your new son.
you couldn’t bring yourself to let him go.
It was just you a Fumikage in the hospital room.
When your family found out you were keeping him, no questions asked, they couldn’t take it.
They didn’t want him, but you did.
And that’s all that matters.
They warmed up to his sweet little face anyways, the way his feet pattered along the halls in the house you grew up in.
He was quite popular during the holidays as-well, they wanted him then.
And now, here you are alone in a house.
Dutifully doing the laundry, remembering every small thing Fumikage did when he was young.
The TV was playing softly in the background, some drama show.
It was interesting enough to keep an ear on.
Until a gruff, raspy voice comes on.
You’re surprised at first, looking up towards the tv only to see a man scared deeply with purple burns, staples runnning over between the dead and healthy skin.
He was looking into the camera, his eyes a striking blue.
“My name is Touya Todoroki.” He says loud and clear.
He goes on to explain that he’s the son of endeavor, his failure.
even pulling out a paternity test.
you sit there on your couch, shocked, your stomach curling and twisting in pure horror.
You’re dumbfounded staring at the screen, your stomach only dropping more when you see hawks.
Hawks stabbing someone, a villain.
then apparently killing the number three, best jeanist.
Touya exposes Keigos past.
You can’t stand to watch anymore, you turn off the tv immediately.
You slide down to the ground below you, clutching at your chest.
Hawks had something to do with the villains, didn’t he?
The exact same one that attack your son, your first born.
your baby.
How dare he?
Anger replaces the fear, your chest fighting at the realization.
You held a man that killed another, a man that could’ve helped hurt your son but then goes a picks him up after?
was it all a lie?
was it?
You grab your phone to call Fumikage. He doesn’t answer.
You call again, you’re not in the fucking mood for this.
And he answers, “mother?”
“Fumikage.”
Fumikages voice is shaking slightly, you can tell.
“Stay away from hawks.” Your voice quiet.
Fumikage stays silent for a moment, “what- why?”
“Did you see the broadcast Fumikage? Get away from him- I can’t have you hurt again.”
“Mother please- hawks didn’t do any wrong.”
You voice raises, “you don’t know that!”
The line goes quiet.
“Mother I can’t-“
“Where are you? I’m coming to get you Fumi.” You voices says hurriedly, worry pumping through your blood.
Fumikage stumbles with his words, “I’m- I am in a recovery spot.”
“What?”
“I’m with hawks- he was harmed in battle.”
Your quiet for a moment, battle? Was there something on the news you misssed? You always steer clear from it or at least try to.
What in gods name is happening?
“Fumikage, what do you mean battle.”
You can practically hear Fumikage gulp, “I wasn’t supposed to tell you, it would’ve compromised the attack.”
“What attack?!” You feel blood rushing towards your head the more you yell.
“I-I on the liberation front! I was supposed to help and- hawks was near the main building fighting a-and I saw fire- I had to help him mom!” Fumikage says quickly, you can barely pick up on it.
You rest you head against the plushness against the couch, trying to be calm.
You can barely hold the phone up, your hand shakes with every breath you take.
You breath in through your nostrils slowly, “Fumi…are you okay?”
Fumikage stays silent for a moment, “I’m alright, I got burned a little but it’ll heal.”
You exhale shakily from your mouth, “Fumikage..” the tears bubble up from your eyes.
“I can’t take much more of this.”
Fumikage looks down towards hawks, “I’m sorry for worrying you.”
“I can’t lose you Fumikage. I can’t.” You try to wipe the tears from your eyes but they won’t stop.
“I know mama, m’sorry.” You hear Fumikages voice break.
Fumikage grips his pants in an effort to calm down, looking at hawks resting form as his vision goes blurry.
“Are you angry with hawks?” His voice shakes.
“I’m furious Fumi.”
“Please forgive him. Please mother.”
The line goes quiet again.
You smile softly, “I thought you hated him?”
Fumikage feels the tears start to go down his face as he reply’s, “I’ve warmed up a little.”
You giggle softly, sniffing, “I’ll think about it.”
Fumikages resolve breaks as he curls into himself, the adrenaline wearing off from his encounter with Dabi.
You hear Fumikage softly sobbing through the phone and your heart aches.
You try to say soft reassurance to Fumikage, to make your son stop crying but nothing comes out of your throat.
Your phone dings, Fumikage shared his location with you. He’s somewhere in the woods and the he’ll be at the nearest hospital after the battle is confirmed to be over.
So you tell him you love him, and hang up to drive to it.
Your drive is quiet but your thoughts keep you company until you arrive.
The hospital is packed, you’re surprised they can fit so many hero’s and civilians.
some people are being treated in the halls surprisingly, it’s a complete mess.
You continue looking through each room until you find Fumikage, you almost crush his ribs with that hug.
You cradle his head into your chest, you notice one that you saw none of his classmates yet.
The hospital room was empty aside from Fumikage.
It was just you and him again.
Fumikage push you away slowly, “hawks is okay, if you were wondering.”
You scuffle his feathers, “I was, only a small bit though I’m still angry.”
Fumikage chuckles softly as you pull him back in, kissing his forehead over and over.
“Can I bring you home?” You mumble from his feathers.
Fumikage nods softly.
Your voice is quiet, “What room is hawks in?”
“The one above this one, they’re treating him right now though.” Fumikage replies.
You hum softly, “what’s his injury’s?”
Fumikage stays silent.
“Fumi?” You say with concern lining your voice.
“His wings…have pretty bad burns…” Fumikage says slowly.
Dark shadow pops out from Fumikage, small little tears brimming his eyes.
You caress the top of his head softly as he speaks, “h-his back..there was nothing..” dark shadow sniffles out.
As a nurse, that’s quite horrifying to hear.
But there’s no point in worrying Fumikage any more.
“I’m sure he’ll be okay.” You say softly with a small smile on your face.
You wrap your arm around Fumikages shoulder, leading him out of the hospital towards the car.
And as you sit the the car, driving to your home.
The one that you and Fumikage inhabit everyday.
Your heart wishes that hawks could’ve joined too, no matter how betrayed you feel.
Even when you asked he waved it off. It hurt you more than it protected you.
It’s the thought that counts right? Fumikage is still safe and okay.
Fumikage will heal, but will Keigo?
Dark Shadow saying that his back was practically gone made you nauseous.
He’ll heal though, and he’ll be back home.
It’ll be you and Fumikage.
and hawks will be there too.
And if he can’t be a hero anymore, so what?
You’ll be there.
And maybe, your life will be more simple.
Fumikage will have another adult in his life other than you, someone else he can depend on.
And truly that’s all you want.
And at night when you carry Fumikages resting body to his bed, you leave the balcony unlocked.
A part of you stupidly thinks that Keigo will come in the middle of the night, retreating into your warmth.
A part of you thinks dark shadow was being dramatic when he said his back was practically gone.
Is it your fault that you can’t sleep that night?
Not when your mind is plagued by images you don’t wanna see at all.
The only comfort is that damn overpriced hawks plush.
And damn Keigo for not letting you sleep without him.
Damn him for making you fall for him.
Damn him for making you care.
Damn him for making you cuddle a stupid plush instead of him.
Damn him and his stupid smile.
TAG LIST:
@lost-in-horrorland @boopjuice @validveenus @qardasngan @arminsarlerts @star-the-rabid-dog @bunni-teeth81 @lightsgore @portgasdbruh @camejlo-35 @marsbars09 @tharae514 @yoongiwantsme @kimahrii @pink-jello-fish @l1vvvvv @miy-svz @bumblebeebutter @lacunaanonymoused @emmmeoo @sinagtala-zip
AN: mwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. ALSO ONLY ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT???? AHHHH KMS. Then I have to go work on accidental nab 😒 (which I’ve already written two chapters that aren’t posted yet- I’m gatekeeping.) THEN I START WORKING and a college AU Dabi fic which ALREADY HAS BULLET POINTS IN MY NOTES SO YOU CANT STOP ME.
also keigo fumi doodles. (To help your heart…)
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Competitively Stupid | Steve Harrington
》 PAIRING: steve harrington x female!reader
》 TROPE/GENRE: rivals-ish (since childhood) to lovers, some angst; fluff
》 SUMMARY: It was stupid, jumping off a cliff just to prove that you were better than Steve fucking Harrington. But you were competitive. You were not losing to him. But you know what was stupider? For it to take a near-death situation for you both to confess what you truly feel for each other.
》 WARNINGS: canon divergent (everyone is alive & well & happy thanks), pet names (sweetheart, baby), shitty parents (on both sides), competitiveness on all accounts, r is basically a counterpart of steve during high school (cheerleading captain, queen of hawkins high, swim team captain, etc.), peer pressure-ish, some stupid decisions & stupider actions, very irresponsible cliff jumping (which doesn't end well), drowning, CPR, injuries, an emotional moment™, love confessions, and a happy, sappy ending.
》 WORD COUNT: 5.3k+
A/N: hi! okay, well, it's been a while since i posted a steve fic so i'm kinda nervous ngl. also, not me making it a habit to include swimmer!steve in all my fics from here on out. this was meant to be short & sweet to dust off the cobwebs but lol. super random. i saw a video of someone cliff-jumping & boom, the idea was born. also, not me using the first aid training i learned in college.
📍 BLOG NAVIGATION
✩ STEVE H. MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩
⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *。・゚.★. *。・゚✫*.
This was stupid.
Absolutely idiotic.
You genuinely have no idea why you were even doing this in the first place.
"There's no way you can do it."
Right.
That's why.
The taunting voice of Steve fucking Harrington was the reason why you were standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down at a thirty-foot drop into the dark ocean.
This was supposed to be a relaxing trip with your new found family.
"You know you don't have to listen to him, right?" Robin sighed, so completely over the fact that her two best friends who never got along no matter what she tried, somehow came to an agreement to not listen to her right now.
Not that you could blame her.
You and Steve had been rivals ever since you were kids.
It was what you had always known.
What with narcissistic parents who used their children as pawns to one up each other, you had been conditioned to see him as an enemy from the second you step foot into their home.
Your family was invited into the Harrington residence for dinner as a way of welcoming you to the neighborhood. You recently just moved in, so you didn't know anyone else yet. When you heard that the next-door neighbor had a son who was your age, you had been really excited to gain a new friend.
All that changed when your dad sat you down an hour before, prepping you about how the Harringtons were a respected family in the town, and that you needed to show them you weren't any less than them, if not show them you were better. He drilled it in your brain to be on your best behavior, to be the best and the perfect daughter.
It only got worse when you finally sat down at that dinner table.
The comparisons were endless.
"See, my daughter here is a wonderful gymnast, quite amazing for someone her age."
"How wonderful. Steven here has swimming lessons every weekend. His coach said he might end up in the Olympic team once he's of age."
"Splendid. How about his academics? I'm sure he can take inspiration from my daughter's exemplary grades."
"He's the top of his class. Maybe if they study together, your daughter would be able to catch up in time."
It was harsh, pitting two seven-year-olds against each other—impressionable kids who only wanted to make their mom and dad proud.
But neither your parents nor his truly gave a shit. All they cared about was becoming the best family in the street, if not the whole town.
The sad thing was, those dinners became a regular thing, held alternately between your house and his.
It always looked like a preparation for battle whenever your mom would pull out the finest china in her collection along with the cookbook she only ever used for special occasions.
It was in the guise of cordiality when it was, in fact, an excuse to show off, to make a competition out of everything, a moment to compare who did what best. Those dinners were like monthly scoreboards, tallying up the respective families' recent achievements—and that included yours and Steve's.
Nobody was surprised that the competitiveness stuck with you both.
And it only got worse during high school.
Whether that was something as mundane as winning the popularity contest when running different circles—even going as far as getting crowned the King and Queen of Hawkins High—down to academics and extracurriculars.
Captain of the basketball team. Captain of the cheerleading squad. Prom Queen. Prom King. MVP of the season. Brightest student of the year. Beer pong Queen. Kegstand King. Best summer camp counselor. Lifeguard of the month and it went on and on and on and on.
When he got co-captain for the men's swim team, you rubbed it in his face that you were the captain of the women's team. When you got second place at the science fair, he made sure to rub his first place medal right in your face. When you became president of the student council, you ordered him around to do extra work whenever the basketball team was required to help with community service.
It was a constant back and forth.
There was always a competition between you and Steve Harrington.
And sure, since you graduated, it became subdued. But it was still very much there. Vying on who was the coolest babysitter in your band of ragtags, even fighting to have the title of Robin Buckley's ultimate best friend.
This thing between you and Steve was deeply rooted. So there really wasn't much Robin could do apart from getting in between your frequent squabbles before you started actually killing each other.
In Robin's words, something drastic had to happen for you both to finally wake up and see that this rivalry between you both wasn't what it seemed to be on the surface.
You had no idea what she was even implying.
Now, on a little getaway on the nearest beach you could drive to, the competition started with a race on who could get there first. It wasn't even fair seeing that you weren't the one driving.
The group had split into two, some were in Eddie's van—along with everyone's belongings since he had ample space in the back—while the others were in Steve's Beemer. Since you and Steve couldn't be in the same room together without an argument ensuing, it was a unanimous decision to have you two separated. Nobody wanted to deal with that for hours on the road.
Not that you could blame them, either.
And sure, it was the kids who suggested the race, but with Steve's smug smirk and that arrogant wink he threw once you got into Eddie's passenger seat, you knew it was game on between you too.
Yet despite the metal head being a fast—albeit slightly reckless—driver, he somehow took his sweet goddamn time getting to your destination.
Only when your group arrived at the beach last, did he say something about Steve threatening him to be extra careful with driving because there's important cargo in his van—whatever the hell that meant.
You lost to Steve on that one, but you would argue it was rigged from the start.
The next was a supposed friendly bout on who could build the biggest sandcastle that didn't topple over after a few minutes.
It was boys versus girls with you and him being team leaders. The girls won, obviously and El never used her powers. It was fair and square since the other team mostly argued over everything they could think of and had no teamwork at all. You made sure to point that out to Steve as you watched their sandcastle crumble into ruins.
Another one was beach volleyball. Same leaders as before, but you get to pick the members of your teams this time. Steve made it his mission to pick the tallest of the bunch. Still, it wasn't the advantage he thought it was because it ended up being one point too close.
Your team would've won if Steve wasn't such a dramatic asshole.
It was truly an accident. When you spiked that ball, you were not aiming for his face. He simply thought it was a good idea to catch the ball with it. Besides, he was distracted, flirting with some random girl in a bikini who was passing by, right in the middle of the game.
How was it your fault that he wasn't paying attention?
He made sure to oversell his injury after that, curled up on the sand as the girl fussed over him. But you saw that smirk on his face. You would've hit him again—definitely not by accident this time—if you weren't busy arguing with Robin about the point deduction. She said it was only fair since you hit the ball when she hadn't blown her imaginary whistle yet.
You decided to let it go when Steve commented on you being a whiny sore loser.
Unfortunately, the competition was ending with who could make jumping off a cliff and into the ocean look the coolest—adults only, despite the groans of protest from the mischievous bunch.
Eddie offered to stay behind and watch the rascals. When teased, he simply said he didn't want to test Death today.
His comment didn't help your nerves.
Robin said she was only coming purely as a voice of reason. She'd been saying nonstop how it was a horribly stupid idea, that there really was no need to be doing this in the first place.
But Steve wasn't backing down, so you weren't going to either.
So once again, it was only you and him.
As it always had been.
He volunteered to go first, throwing in a comment about rushing back up the cliff's edge before you could take your turn because he wanted a front-row seat for when you'd chicken out.
It only made you want to do it more.
His dive was smooth, almost flawless, you admit. He even showed off with a little flip near the end. It didn't take long for him to swim back to the shore, either. His years of training as a swimmer were obviously paying off.
But you trained just as much if not more than he had.
The only difference was, adrenaline didn't fuel you as much as it did Steve. So instead of getting all powered up looking down at a cliff's edge like he was, you were terrified.
But who wouldn’t get scared looking down at harsh waves crashing against sharp and jagged rocks? There was no margin for error here because one wrong slip and you'd be dead.
Still, if Steve could do it, you could do it better.
You weren't about to lose to his stupid ass.
"I'm not listening to him," you argued back, taking in a shaky breath as you took a step.
"He's doing reverse psychology!" she squeaked. "So you doing it is still listening to him!"
"I'm fine, Robs, I can do it," you mumbled, a slight questioning lilt at the end of your sentence.
"Look, sweetheart, it's okay to admit defeat," Steve said, cocky voice with an even cockier smile as he crossed his toned arms against his bare chest. His hair was still damp, quick to climb back up so he could get his front-row seat as he promised.
But you weren't chickening out.
Never.
"I mean, it wouldn't be the first time you lost to me so, it shouldn't sting as much."
You ignored him.
Instead, you took another step, the tips of your toes now hanging over the edge.
You can do this. Wipe that smug smirk off his face. You got this.
"Listen, you don't have to do—"
"Shut it, Harrington," you growled.
With a deep breath, you closed your eyes, counting from three, two, one…
You jumped.
-:-:-:-:-:-:-
This was stupid.
Absolutely idiotic.
He shouldn't have pressured you like that.
The jump wasn't deadly, per se, but it also wasn't exactly deemed the safest, especially if you weren't an expert in any sort of way.
And he didn't want to say it out loud because if he did, he knew it would only push you to do it more just to prove him wrong.
But Steve could see how scared you were.
He was already dropping the act, voice laced with concern as he started telling you that he wasn't worth all of this, that he was stupid and that you were always going to be better than him.
But, obviously, you didn't listen.
You simply jumped.
You and your stupidly competitive ass.
"Damn it," he cursed under his breath, rushing to the edge of the cliff, tensely watching your falling figure disappear into the water with a splash.
"You two are complete idiots."
"Shut up," Steve gritted, never looking away from the water. Yet any annoyance was quickly overpowered by sheer worry as he scanned the deep blue for anything.
There was no sign of you.
"Like seriously! It's like I'm the only one with a brain cell here!"
"Come on, come on, come on," Steve mumbled, completely ignoring Robin when you still hadn't emerged to the surface. "Come on, Y/N, don't scare me like this."
"Uh, Steve?" Robin asked after a moment, carefully looking over the cliff before shooting him a worried glance. "You look anxious and you being anxious is making me nervous."
"She hasn't come up," he grumbled, glancing at his watch.
It was nearing a minute.
"Maybe you didn't see her?"
"I haven't taken my eyes off the water, Buckley," he gritted, too harsh and uncalled for since Robin didn't do anything wrong.
But he was panicking.
A minute and thirty seconds.
"Come on, sweetheart, you can do it. You're an amazing swimmer," he whispered encouragingly, hoping some sort of magic would let you hear him underwater all while saying it aloud for his own sanity.
Two minutes.
You could never hold your breath any longer than that.
Steve knew because he always won that competition.
And that was in a calm pool.
"Shit, shit, shit!" he cursed, gearing up to dive after you. "I don't think she's coming up!"
"Okay! Okay," Robin rushed, panicking. "Maybe she's already on the shore. We should go down now and see—"
Steve didn't listen.
He jumped right after you.
The biting cold was awakening.
Still, it was the absolute fear of losing you that was keeping him alert.
He ignored the sting of the salty ocean water in his eyes as he frantically searched for you, his heart beating hard and fast, struggling for oxygen all while fearing for your safety.
Steve didn't know which came first, relief or dread when finally found you, aimlessly floating and unconscious under the deep blue.
He swam to you as fast he could, securely hooking his arm under your shoulder and dragging you up to the surface.
Steve always knew that adrenaline can give you a random boost of strength when needed. He simply didn't expect that to be proven true when he was carrying your unresponsive body in his arms as he brought you to the shore.
He gently placed you on your back on the sand, cupping your face as he checked for any injuries.
You were so cold.
"Hey, hey, wake up," he begged, grabbing your shoulders to try and shake you awake.
Nothing.
"You didn't have to make the jump, you idiot. Why do you always want to prove me wrong," he scolded with no ounce of anger, only worry. He started tapping your cheek frantically. "Come on, wake up!"
Still no response.
"Dammit, Y/N, why'd you have to be so fucking stubborn," he scolded, his voice shaking in fear, his chest tightening as he pressed two fingers against your pulse point.
His own heart stopped when he couldn't feel yours.
And you weren't breathing.
Steve tried to keep himself calm. If he panicked now, he wouldn't be able to give you the aid that you direly need.
"Come on, Harrington. You know what to do. You trained for this," he mumbled to himself, getting into the proper position to give you CPR.
He gently cupped your forehead with his left hand, his other two fingers under your chin as he tilted your head up.
"You're going to be okay," he whispered, pinching your nose before slotting his lips against yours.
Breathing into your mouth, one, two, he watched your chest rise as it filled up with air, only for it to settle back down without coming back up again. He quickly kneeled straighter, locking his fingers together and placing the heel of his left hand in the middle of your chest, pushing down with enough pressure to try and get your heart to start again.
"One, two, three, four, come on, sweetheart, breathe for me," he mumbled, easily finding the right rhythm, his first aid training as a lifeguard coming back to him like it was second nature.
Still, he never wanted to use this skill in a real-life situation, much less use it on you.
It was the longest thirty counts in his life.
Check for a pulse. Check for breathing.
Still nothing.
"Goddammit, Y/N, come on!" he growled, blinking back the tears as he pressed his mouth against yours again.
Two rescue breaths.
Thirty chest compressions.
Steve repeated the cycle over and over. His eyes were stinging with unshed tears, his knees were burning as the rough sand dug deeper into his skin, and his arms were starting to get sore, tiredness slowly covering his aching muscles.
But he'd rather die first than give up on you now.
"Steve—"
"Call for help, Robin!" he ordered, not taking his eyes off you for even a second. When he didn't hear any movement, he yelled, "Don't just stand there! Go!"
He was going to apologize for being an asshole later. For now, he needed you to fucking breathe.
"Come on, come on, please," he begged, leaning back down to give you two more rescue breaths. "Breathe for me, baby, please."
Thirty chest compressions.
"Trying to prove me wrong when I've always been wrong, you idiot."
Five, six, seven—
"Sweetheart, come on," he choked back a sob. "Who's going to call me out when I'm being stupid, huh? You know Robin can't do it alone."
Twelve, thirteen, fourteen—
"And you're really going to leave me alone to watch our kids?"
Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two—
"Y/N, baby, please, I can't live without you," he whimpered.
Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thir—
Steve felt his breath leave his lungs when you finally gasped for air.
He quickly turned you to your side, rubbing your back as you choked out all the ocean water that got into your system.
"There you go, you're okay," he whispered, whether to reassure you or himself, he didn't even know anymore. All he was focused on was making sure you were going to be okay.
"S-Stevie?" you coughed out the nickname that was only ever used by you.
It was the equivalent to his nickname for you—sweetheart.
Names that started out to annoy each other but the more often it was used as time passed, it only managed to grow into an endearment that held something warm underneath it. You both were quick to realize that the nicknames you had for each other weren't out of spite anymore.
Neither of you simply addressed it.
"Steady, sweetheart, I'm right here," he reassured, hurriedly getting into your line of sight to stop you from trying to turn around to face him. He gently cupped your cheek, offering you a soft smile when your gaze found him. "I'm not going anywhere."
You nodded as best as you could, your eyes clinging onto his brown ones only for them to screw shut when a shiver ran through your whole body.
"C-Cold," you stammered.
"I know, I know, come here," he said softly, guiding you to sit up before quickly settling behind you. He gently pulled you closer between his legs, his chest pressed against your back as he blanketed his body over yours, rubbing your arms to keep you as warm as possible.
You turned to face him slightly, burying your face into his neck only for you to wince at the slight movement. He quickly tried to steady you again, checking over you twice to look for any visible injury. But he couldn't find any.
"Tell me what hurts," he asked, pressing his lips against your cold forehead as he fully wrapped his arms around you.
"A-Ankle," you whimpered in pain, your grip on his waist tightening and God he hated that sound so much.
You must've rolled it when you jumped, and having landed on it when you reached the water, it definitely made it worse.
"It's okay, you're okay," he murmured, littering kisses against the side of your head to try and keep your mind off it. "Robin already called for help, they should be on their way, alright?"
You gave him a small nod, inching even closer to him, seeking as much warmth from him as possible. Your cold breath was tickling his skin but he didn’t care. Hell, you could be breathing fucking ice and he still wouldn’t give a shit.
As long as you were breathing.
"I need you to stay awake for me, okay?"
"I-I'll try," you whispered.
"First to fall asleep is the biggest loser," he mumbled, squeezing you slightly when he felt your eyes flutter close. "And you wouldn't want me to win this, babe, because I'll be a little shit about it."
"Not f-fair," you choked out a laugh.
"It's plenty fair," Steve chuckled tearfully, ignoring the sudden wetness on his cheeks. He hugged you tighter instead. "So stay awake or you'll lose to me. Again."
"Right there! They're right over there!"
Steve had never been so grateful to hear Robin's voice.
-:-:-:-:-:-:-
"So are you finally going to tell her?"
"Tell her what?" Steve questioned back, unable to take his eyes off of you, soundly sleeping in a hospital bed with your foot now wrapped in a cast.
The doctor had already checked everything and thankfully, there weren't any further injuries apart from your twisted ankle.
Now, all you needed was to rest and recover.
"That you've been in love with her this whole time."
Steve sighed, squeezing your hand before turning to look at his best friend.
"I'm not in love with her, Robs."
"Right," she scoffed, raising a knowing brow. "Because jumping off a cliff with zero hesitation so you could save her is totally normal behavior for someone you claim you hate."
"I never said I hated her," he argued, and it was true. He couldn't think of a single moment where he hated you.
"Yeah, well, you two definitely don't act like you like each other."
"Does she annoy and frustrate the shit out of me? Yes. But I never hated her," he admitted.
Steve didn't know what it was exactly, maybe it was his tiredness muddling his brain, maybe it was from everything that happened in the last couple of hours finally catching up to him, or maybe it was the overwhelming need to confess everything into the open before it was too late—and it almost had been. Either way, he found himself suddenly spewing out all the things that he always just kept to himself.
"She's also been the most constant person in my life, you know? Hell, we basically grew up together. I can't just not care about her," he continued, memories flooding his system before he could even stop it. "She's been so ingrained in my life, her and the cute dresses she wore at those stupid dinners our parents always dragged us to. Her and her stupid competitions whenever our babysitters would bring us to the park together. Her and that stupid dance she always did whenever she won at anything even if it was my expense—she always does this cute little wiggle whenever she won, and that never left her even as we got older," Steve chuckled at the thought.
"And fuck, don't even get me started with how similar our parents are. She's the only one who will always get me when it comes to that," he continued. "And yeah, we compete a lot, but there was no hatred between us. Maybe at the start but all that went away when we learned that whatever our parents were feeding us was bullshit—that they were bullshit.
"And fine, did I sometimes get so annoyed whenever she got a new boyfriend? Yeah. But only because she always had this bad habit of dating fucking assholes. I don't know where she got those dickheads from but every time I see a glimpse of her crying by her window at night I swear to fucking God I would've killed every single one of those assholes if she asked," he gritted, slumping down in his seat with a sigh.
"She deserves to be treated right, you know? She's already experiencing so much shit at home, she doesn't need any more of that anywhere else. Sure, she irritates me to no end but that doesn't mean she's not a sweet girl who always cried whenever some random pet commercial came on the TV during the holidays. Does her competitiveness drive me up the wall? Absolutely. But that doesn't mean I don't feel so fucking proud of her whenever she wins another medal or achieves another milestone. And yeah, I wonder about how she's doing, if she's taking care of herself, if she's getting enough sleep between her work and classes. But that's only because I worry, you know?
"And maybe I do think about her a lot but that doesn't mean I'm in love with…"
Steve blinked.
Well fuck.
"Wow," Robin marveled. "You're stupider than I thought."
"He hit his head as a kid, cut him some slack."
Steve paled at the sound of your voice, swiftly turning red at the thought that you probably heard all the things he said.
He turned to face you, groaning in annoyance when he saw the smug smile on your lips. "You've been awake this whole time?"
"I'll leave you two love birds alone," Robin sang, quickly slipping out of the hospital room and closing the door behind her.
"How much of that did you hear?" Steve asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Enough to say you're stupid," you hummed.
He rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat with crossed arms. "I'm not the one who jumped off the cliff and almost died just to prove a fucking point."
"Yeah, well, I guess we're both stupid then," you snorted.
He shrugged. "I guess we are."
"Jesus, you don't have to act so tense. I mean, you've already given me a mouth-to-mouth, we've practically made out already," you scoffed playfully. "I honestly thought I'd die first before swapping spit with you yet here we are."
It was your attempt at alleviating the tension, to throw in a funny quip. But with everything still so fresh in his mind, Steve simply couldn't take it well.
"Don't fucking joke about that will you?" he snapped, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face.
The silence that followed only made the tension worse.
"I'm sorry," you whispered.
Steve immediately felt bad.
"No, no, no. You didn't do anything wrong, don't apologize," he sighed, meeting your eyes with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. It's just—"
He stopped himself, chewing on his bottom as he looked everywhere but at you when he felt the tears well up again.
"Will you come here?"
Steve took a calming breath and did as you asked, moving his chair closer but didn't attempt anything else than that.
"Stevie," you called when he still wouldn't look at you.
Harshly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he lifted his head. You smiled at him sweetly, wiggling your fingers to get him to come even closer.
"You scared me back there," he croaked, taking your hand with a squeeze.
"I didn't mean to," you softly said, remorseful and apologetic even though you didn't have to be.
"I know," he murmured, pressing your warm palm against his cheek as he shot you a glare. "Just don't do that again."
"Promise," you giggled, stroking his cheek with your thumb.
Steve leaned closer into your touch. "How are you feeling?"
"Better, thanks to you," you hummed, brows furrowing in thought. "When Marcus got that black eye, you said it was because he was playing dirty on one of your games." You tilted your head knowingly. "That wasn't true, wasn't it?"
Steve shrugged. "He hurt you."
"It was a small bruise on the arm, Steve," you reasoned.
"He shouldn't be giving you a fucking bruise in the first place," he growled, the memory bringing back the same anger he felt when he first saw that bruise. The soft tapping of your finger against his cheek calmed him down. "Sorry."
"Did you lose on purpose to get him expelled?"
"What? No!" he scoffed, offended, rolling his eyes when you giggled. "I tried so fucking hard to win that fight, you know, for you."
"You've always been protective of me," you hummed, taking his hand and interlacing your fingers together.
"Don't think I didn't know it was you who dyed that poor girl's hair green that one year in middle school summer camp," he retaliated.
It was a sharp and piercing scream that woke up the whole camp that morning. Everyone rushed out of bed to see what was going on only to find a girl who once was blonde was now sporting bright green hair in the middle of the crowd, crying her eyes out.
Steve would've thought it was only some silly prank if he didn't know who the girl was. But he did. Because the day before he tried to ask her to be his girlfriend, only for her to turn him down in the most embarrassing and humiliating way possible.
It wasn't difficult for him to find out who the culprit was since he immediately noticed how you kept hiding your hands in your pockets for the next few days after the incident.
The counselors quickly found out that the little menace—whoever she was—decided to use permanent dye on the poor girl's hair instead of something washable.
Your green palms colored you oh so guilty.
"She called you pathetic and gross in front of everyone!" you argued, pouting. "You looked like you were about to cry and I hated it."
Steve's heart warmed at that, a smile on his face despite rolling his eyes. "I wasn't about to cry."
"Yeah well," you shrugged, eyes trained on your intertwined fingers, your thumb playing with his. "I'm the only one who's supposed to be mean to you."
"Hmm," he agreed, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. "I guess we've always been there for each other, huh?"
"I guess so," you giggled, cupping his cheek and tugging him closer.
He stood up from his seat, following your lead until he was pressing his forehead against yours.
"Thank you for saving my life, Steve," you whispered, eyes turning glossy as so many emotions covered your irises, the weight of what almost happened catching up with you.
"You don't have to thank me for that," he said sincerely, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. "I'd do it over and over again in a heartbeat."
You nodded, sniffling, "Still, thank you."
Steve wasn't able to argue some more when you all but kissed him.
The first time Steve felt your mouth on his was a horrible experience considering he was trying to keep you alive.
Now, everything was the complete opposite.
A kiss that was careful but sweet, a hint of nervousness and excitement all the same, completely unhurried yet burning with passion as his lips molded against yours.
But still, it felt like that first gasp of air—a finally.
"I'm in love with you, too, by the way," you murmured as you pulled away, your warm breath tickling his lips.
"Thanks for clarifying," he chuckled, eyes laced with adoration, unable to stop his smile from growing wider, warmer. "I couldn't figure that out from the kiss."
"I mean, you are kinda stupid," you teased.
"We're on that same boat, sweetheart," he chuckled. "I'm sure Robin would remind us about that every single day now."
"Unfortunately," you groaned playfully. "God, she gets annoying when she's right."
"Tell me about it," he hummed, brushing his lips against yours, moving away when you chased it.
You whined.
Steve didn't hesitate to dive back in.
✫*゚・゚。.★.*。・゚♛ *.
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