#this took me like four hours because I was sick

[odder-outlet]

raphs so frustrated he could just scream

[skyburger]

RIP reo speedwagon (the jojo's bizarre adventure character) you would've loved reo speedwagon (the american rock band)

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

.

[foldingfittedsheets]

You wouldn’t blame a crowbar for an act of destruction, you would blame the wielder. For this reason I can’t be held responsible for what happened to my friend Charlie’s bed. I was merely a tool that force was applied through.

It happened like this: Brendan, Charlie, and I decided to have a late night movie viewing at Charlie’s house. We watched The Hogfather and Groundhogs day and we stayed up until 4am. Then we were all too tired to drive home and crashed. I got the bed and the boys took the floor.

Four hours later, Charlie’s parents woke up. They learned that Charlie had people over. They. Were. Furious. Because unbeknownst to us it turned out they had swine flu. Charlie should had been quarantining not bringing people to his plague house. They ordered Charlie to kick us out that very moment.

Charlie came to rouse us. I am… not at my best in the morning hours. Four hours of sleep did not leave my disposition gruntled. Charlie began trying to rouse me to pretty much no avail. He pulled the covers off, shook me, tried to take my pillow, but I was a tiny ball of sleepy vicious rage. When he shook me I’m pretty sure I bit him.

I should be clear, I wasn’t really awake. A baseline function was taking place but no real actual thought. I was piloting on pure instinct and the instinct was: need more sleep. Charlie tried everything while Brendan watched in bemusement.

Finally Charlie got the idea that if he physically lifted me out of bed I’d go. He managed to get his hands under my arms and start dragging me off the bed.

Two things happened very quickly. My toes wrapped around the top of the railing to his bed frame, and I went limp everywhere else. Charlie staggered and almost dropped me, because holding a floppy corpse body is much harder than a tensed one, a fact I had learned from many roughhousing attacks by my brother.

He swore and then gamely started trying to drag me backward, thinking it would be easy to dislodge my toes from the bed frame. It was not. I’ve mentioned before that my toes are strong, but Charlie was flabbergasted that their grip on the bed was so strong that he couldn’t drag me away.

I was going on pure stubborn instinct. I did not want to leave the bed. Charlie was fully committed that a 90lb gremlin wasn’t going to beat him in a contest of strength with only her toes. So he pulled. And I held on.

Both of us were shocked when there was a tortured shriek of wood and something in the bed frame cracked. It was loud enough that I actually woke up. The rest of my brain surfaced in confusion to join the lizard brain whose only goal had been not to leave the bed.

I released my toes and took my own weight and Charlie and I stared at the bed.

“You ripped the railing off!”

“Well, no, you ripped the railing off, I was just the tool. If you hadn’t been pulling on me-“

“If you had just let go! What is up with your feet?!”

We griped as I readied myself to leave his plague house, joining his parents in being mad that Charlie hadn’t told us they were sick. I drove home to sleep more.

Over the years of our friendship Charlie still maintained that I broke the bed. I disagreed and think I was only the tool by which he broke the bed. Only you can decide who bears the most sin, the dragger or the dragee.

[obaex]

four - hockey player!ex!rafe cameron (pt. 1)

summary: rafe knows he's screwed up, but when he offers you a way to make amends, you can't resist. the catch? he'll have to do the impossible.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: rafe is slightly toxic in this ngl! i am in love with this. hockey romance is very near and dear to me (this is v loosely based on a real life experience). *mwah*

You saw your phone light up out of the corner of your eye and lowered your mascara wand as you leaned over to glance at the screen and let out a shaky sigh.

A part of you knew the right thing to do by now was to block his number. You hadn't responded to a single message he'd sent for over two weeks. And the messages had been relentless.

I'm thinking about you in the afternoons.

Hi beautiful in the mornings.

I'm sorry.

You're still my girl.

And on and on, escalating to paragraphs at night, as he typed out things he'd never once said out loud to you before; about how he felt the first time he met you, the things his teammates said, about how Wheezie was asking about you and Sarah spent an hour on the phone lecturing him, about how he'd do anything to get you back.

Reading his messages was like drinking a honied poison that went down sweet, warming every inch of you, only to make you sick in the end. But you couldn't stop. You couldn't block him. And even though you'd made him think you were ignoring him, you craved every message, every word he said something you had ached to hear when he had the chance.

Now it was two hours before the biggest game of the season, arguably one of the biggest of his career. He should be focusing on his pregame routine, on his way to the rink, if he wasn't there already and instead here he was texting you. You were the one on his mind and you drank that poison down, allowing yourself to feel special, even if the text had made no sense to you.

How many?

How many what?

His last message before that was from a couple of hours ago, before his pregame nap, the one you often took together as he had reminded you, in excruciating detail.

Your fingers twitched with the urge to reply. You knew he was baiting you into responding, but you swallowed down the urge and took a deep breath to still your beating heart and went back to applying your makeup, dragging up the same memory you did every time you were tempted by him.

It was just after 2AM, and you were sitting in your car that you had driven to his apartment, unable to sleep, desperate to talk to him. He lounged in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead at the windshield, tracking the rain that was falling steadily.

"Can you please talk to me?" you whispered, trying so hard not to come across as needy or desperate.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked, shrugging, avoiding your eye contact.

"I don't know, just tell me what's going on with you? You barely talk to me anymore, you won't even look at me. Did I do something?"

He shrugged again and you felt physically sick. Maybe it was because you couldn't remember the last thing you'd eaten, the last time you'd slept more than a few fitful hours, all consumed with the feeling that your five-year relationship was running off the rails. Rumors were flying that there was another girl... or girls... And when you had asked him about it, he brushed it off, not strongly enough to give you even an ounce of comfort. You were falling apart. And he was letting it happen. He was forcing you to end this, too cowardly to do it himself.

"Do you even want to be with me anymore?" you whispered, barely audible over the pounding rain, like maybe if he didn't hear you, he couldn't answer.

He rubbed his hand over his face and sighed loudly, frustrated, like you were just so annoying to him, and you wished you could suck your words back into your mouth.

"I have practice in like four hours, I can't be doing this with you right now" he said, aptly avoiding the conversation again.

Your chin was wobbling and you bit back everything you wanted to say, not wanting to be needy, or nagging, hoping if you were on your very best behavior he would have a change of heart, change his mind.

You pursed your lips and nodded, averting your gaze to look out at the rain and gathering the strength you needed to say the words that felt like nails in your mouth.

"I can't do this anymore" you whimpered, as tears fell that matched the droplets on your windshield. "I can't keep giving 100% and getting nothing in return. I'm sitting here spilling my heart out to you and you won't even look at me. After everything we've been through... You won't even deny that you hooked up with her."

Silence.

You could see him grimace, the tic in his jaw as he pushed his tongue into his cheek. You wanted to grab the front of his sweatshirt, shake him and scream 'SAY SOMETHING!'. But you didn't. And his silence persisted a moment longer.

"So that's it then?" he said finally, like you had any other choice.

You wiped futilely at the tears that were now pouring down your face, even as you tried to hold them back, sniffling with a shaky breath to avoid outright sobbing in front of him.

He opened the car door, got out, slamming it forcefully behind him without so much as a glance your way and you broke down. You didn't make it one block before you had to pull over. You couldn't see, you couldn't breath, and you couldn't hold your hands steady on the wheel you were shaking so badly. You threw your car in park, lay your head on the steering wheel and cried.

Two days passed before the first text came in.

"I'm sorry" is all it said.

You could see the bubbles at the bottom of the screen, indicating that he was still typing before more messages appeared.

At this point you were grasping your phone with both hands, like a lifeline, eyes glued to the screen, heart hammering so hard in your chest you felt nauseous and your hands were shaking. There was a chance, a glimmer, a hope and you were clinging to it.

Your fingers hovered over your phone, ready to forgive him, to forget, to run right back to the way things had been, to have him looking for you at the end of every game, for stolen kisses in the parking lot at the arena, to whispered I love yous as you fell asleep in his arms. And then more messages came flooding in.

More messages were coming now but you couldn't read any further. Your heart was battering around your ribcage like a pinball machine with the whiplash of information: your boyfriend of five years had been actively texting another girl... because she was easygoing, and fun to talk to and didn't stress him out… like you did.

Your tears were back like no time had passed from the night you broke up, heavy sobs coming from your mouth at how stupid you felt, at all the rumors being true. And did you really believe that nothing more had happened between them? He was Rafe fucking Cameron of the Carolina Eagles.

Your eyes skimmed over the second half of his message, about how you were it for him, about how much he loved you, how he wanted to marry you and for you to have his babies?? The ache of wanting that so desperately to be true and knowing it couldn't be was too much for you as you turned and cried into your pillow.

You recalled all of those messages now as a new one came in. You shoved your finger into the bruise on your heart, forcing yourself to feel that pain again, to imagine him laying in bed, in the bed you had slept in with him, while he texted another girl, maybe even texted both of you at the same time, and you refocused on your makeup.

You had faithfully followed the Eagles for five years, his teammates were some of your best friends, like brothers to you. Despite everything that had happened with Rafe, you weren't going to miss their game tonight. Rafe's best friend and linemate Nick had texted you earlier in the week to let you know he had a ticket for you.

Fine. It was hard to say no to that. Everyone you knew would be there anyway and you didn't need Rafe thinking he had power over you if you weren't there. So, you were going. And you decided if you were going to go you were going to look stunning, and as you put the finishing touches on your makeup, there was no doubt in your mind that you were.

You had spent more time on your hair and makeup than potentially every other game that season combined. You may have gotten a little comfy towards the end, wearing Rafe's team-issued sweatshirt with his name and number on it and a pair of leggings. He claimed that he loved you in that, but that wouldn't cut it tonight. You wore skintight jeans that accentuated every perfect curve of your body, heeled booties and a tight-fitting long sleeve shirt. Your hair was immaculate and your makeup was admittedly a little extra for an AHL game, but effortless nonetheless as it amplified your natural beauty. The pain in your heart had been ebbing its way into anger: you were going to make him regret every single thing he'd done, the thought nagging at you as your phone lit up again.

You huffed. You had been strong for weeks, and now he was throwing that at you?

Your perfectly manicured fingers hovered over your phone as you nibbled your glossed bottom lip, and finally relented.

What the hell? you thought, confused.

Feeling pretty good about your level of engagement, you sent another question mark before his response came in.

You scoffed before laughing out loud. He was truly unbelievable. You weren't on some sort of barter system here. This wasn't a deal you had ever discussed nor agreed to. This isn't how the world worked, this isn't how relationships worked. It was stupid. So so stupid. And Rafe wasn't the team's lead goal scorer anyway. Sure he was good for a flashy goal every few games, maybe two, but this was the semi-finals of the league championship, everything was on the line here, it was not the time to be playing games...

...But damn if you didn't love the semblance of power he'd given you over the situation, and you desperately wanted to fuck with him.

Four goals in one game. Essentially impossible. A joke. Sidney Crosby, arguably the best player in the NHL at the moment hadn't even achieved that. But not a second passed before his reply came through, simple, straightforward, no arguing or complaining:

"Done"

And then:

"I love you!"

"I'll be looking for you 😍"

You rolled your eyes, throwing your phone down on your bed, annoyed at yourself for even answering him.

And yet you couldn't fight the smallest bit of excitement you felt.

It was impossible. It was never going to happen, but Rafe Cameron was going to try to win you back.

(part two)

taglist: @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @ihe4rttwd, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444

[coco-loco-nut]

Hii!

Can I please ask for an angsty fic with Max, where the reader defends him from Jos after not finishing his race in Melbourne...idk if you remember when Max kept his helmet for four hours after a race because he was afraid of what Jos would have done to him after not winning...and the reader basically tells Jos to get lost even if she's like 5'4 and definitely not as intimidating as them both lol.

And then maybe after the win in Suzuka, they "reconcile" but she still reminds him to act right around her boyfriend, who's now a man and not a little boy he could pressure like he once did.

Sorry if it's too long!! Thanks for taking your time and reading my request!

Guard Dog

Pairing: Max x Reader

Summary: You are sick and tired of watching Max take Jos' shit

TW: verbal abuse

A/n: thank you soooo much for the rec, I love writing these out so much <3

requests open masterlist

----------------

"Maxie... are you okay?" you wait patiently by the door to his driver's room, careful not to barge in like Jos would, as you have for the past year since you first witnessed Jos' beratement of his son. He is sitting on the couch with his helmet between his hands. The fire causing an unpleasant start to the race, and you are just glad you got here first.

"I'm okay," his voice cracks and you step into the room, closing the door behind you. "I know it wasn't my fault, but I can't help but feel like it was my fault," Max looks in your eyes, the fire brewing behind them. You were genuinely the sweetest girl he's ever met, and to get you mad took a lot. God help you if Jos shows up, you are tired of Max feeling bad even when he podiums.

"You're right, you didn't do anything wrong, the car failed you today," you stay calm, sitting beside him and cuddling into him. Max stays quiet, enjoying your warmth, and decompressing from the start. He can understand why the fans were so happy to see him lose, in fact, if he wasn't himself, he would join them. No, the fear of his father is what has him on edge. Rightfully so, because a few seconds later the door is slammed open again.

"Max, what the hell did you-" Jos starts and you launch yourself off the couch. Jos and Max were big guys, and you were average height for a woman, 5'6 or so, but you didn't seem like it in that moment.

"Shut the hell up and leave. You have nothing useful to say and you are going to shift blame to Max who had NO fault in the DNF," you snarl, setting yourself up as a barrier between the two, Jos still in the doorway and Max on the couch.

"Girl, I don't know who you think you are, but I am Max's father, and I can-," You cut Jos off before he can continue.

"No, you aren't his father. A father doesn't talk to his son like that, you are simply a man who shares the same last name as Max. A father is someone like Carlos Sainz Sr or Lawrence Stroll. No, you are a man- sorry a boy in a man's body- who can't cope with the fact that he doesn't race anymore and wants the man who shares the same last name with him to be impossibly perfect and win every single race, even when the car breaks down." You sneer at the man. "You need to leave, before I call security and make them remove you," you don't back down, instead you step closer. Max watches in both awe and fear.

"I-"

"Leave, Jos, now. Don't make me repeat myself," you say, practically slamming the door behind him. You turn around and look at Max, seemingly calm and normal. He looks at you bewildered.

"That was the sexiest thing ever. Thank you, Schatje, you didn't have to do that," Max hugs you, a large weight off of his shoulders.

"Of course I did, who else will be your guard dog?" You smile at him, squeezing him tighter. "Now, get changed and get back to the garage," you tell Max, stepping out to the room. You let out a deep breath, surprised with how you treated Jos and stood up for Max. A couple minutes later, Max rejoins you, quickly stopping inside hospitality for a snack.

The two of you avoid Jos, going extremely low contact, not that he was trying to. Jos would never admit it, but he was embarrassed at how you spoke to him, and his retreat allowed him to ignore it. Instead, you and Max enjoyed your time together in Japan. The both of you were aware Jos was there, but chose to ignore it. After Max won, Jos warily approached the two of you.

"I wanted to congratulate you on winning. You drove well," Jos says stiffly, silently calling for a truce. You let Max take the lead on the conversation.

"Thank you," he says, feeling like a little boy again, but accepting the temporary truce.

"It was good seeing you Jos, but we need to go," you interject, sensing the still tense atmosphere. The older man, still a little scared of you despite your sweet demeanor, lets you go, not quite willing to cross you again.

"Love you, Maxie"

"Love you too, Schatje,"

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

what compels you about the Lord howe island stick insect?

its supposed extinction was such a mundane tragedy, this entire population of insects on an isolated island wiped out by the unintentional introduction of rats aboard a ship. it's a fairly common byproduct of colonization, native species being outcompeted by rivals they never should have encountered at all. you so rarely hear about insects impacted by it though, because so few people care about insects even when they're dying out completely.

except they didn't die out. they were thought to be extinct for almost a century, until in 2003 researchers confirmed a surviving population on, of all places, Ball's Pyramid, a volcanic and inhospitable spire of rock twelve miles from Lord Howe Island. not an insurmountable distance, but pretty vast if you're a flightless stick bug. how did they even get out there? no one knows. but they were there, just 24 insects who were supposed to be dead all huddling under a shrub together.

researchers took four of them back to Australia to start breeding programs. at the Melbourne Zoo they've bred them in the thousands now, and they've started contingency programs at a few other zoos worldwide. they're still considered critically endangered, at tremendous risk of extinction, but there are cautious plans to start reintroducing them to Lord Howe Island, when it can be ascertained that the island will be safe for them. there are still European rats that need to be exterminated, and a fungus threatens the plants that the stick insects rely on. there's still a population on Ball's Pyramid, but it's perilously small. their future in the wild isn't certain by any means.

but they're alive, and there are thousands more of them than there would be if no one had gone looking for them. if all the stick insects on Ball's Pyramid get sick or drown or are eaten by seagulls tomorrow, there will still be Lord Howe Island stick insects in the world, and it's all because some people decided that these bugs deserve a second chance and dedicated their entire lives to giving them one. Paige Howorth, the director of invertebrate care and conservation at the San Diego Zoo, the first zoo to successfully breed the insects outside of Australia, said this:

My most vivid memory has to be the very surreal experience of flying back to the San Diego Zoo in 2016 with 300 critically endangered Lord Howe Island stick insect eggs in my backpack.... I’ll never forget counting out the eggs with the Melbourne wildlife health and care teams, who surface-sterilized them pre-flight, so that they could come home with me with a lowered risk upon hatching. The idea that we were finally bringing this incredibly rare species back to San Diego to make their global population a little more secure made me hug that backpack closer. And yes, I did take them to the bathroom with me on the flight. (x)

whenever people start rambling about how humanity is inherently evil or selfish or whatever I think about shit like this. a woman hugging a backpack full of 300 eggs close for a 13 hour flight, just to give some bugs a chance. imagine.

they're also called tree lobsters, which I think is just rad.

[cherriesformatt]

time of the month || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: you get your period at work and feel like crap but you have the best caring bf ever

warnings: pure fluff, period, throwing up

word count: 1,2k

🍒

I was in the middle of a meeting when I felt it. I got my period. What a great start of a day. After the meeting was over I went to the bathroom and realized I only have one tampon, no pads and no painkillers. Which is the worst because I already was starting feeling like crap. That's how it always is with me. The minute I get my period I start having cramps and I feel like passing out. It was only one so I had four more hours of work. I got new purse and I forgot to transfer everything from the old one to this. My period was suppose to come in two days so I wasn't ready. The worst thing is that my department is mostly man and there is no tampons in our public bathroom. I need to change that. I went back to the office and started to work. I could survive on that tampon but I really needed the painkillers. I picked my phone from my desk when the time came I could only think about the pain not on my work. I decided to call my boyfriend. I did not want to because I knew he is out with some friends filming. But he was my only other choice.

"Hi, y/n everything okay?" He picked up after two signals.

I never called him at work so he probably got worried.

"Hi, yes, I mean no I feel like I am going to die from cramps but I do not have any painkillers... and I need pads and tampons and I wouldn't call you for that but I am really in pain. I am sorry I forgot to pack everything to my new work bag" I said.

"Oh...how about you call in sick? I'll come pick you up and we will go to my place? I pick up stuff from your apartment on my way. I am sorry baby..." He said.

First day and night of my period was the worst for me. He knew that. Gladly it was Friday so tomorrow I could rot in bed.

"Are you sure? You guys are still out filming?" I asked to make sure.

"Yup, just wrapped up with Jake and on our way back you are on the speaker actually" He said.

"Oh..I am sorry boys that you had to listen to period talk" I said knowing Nick and Chris are there.

"No problem kid, sorry you feel bad" Chris said and Nick yelled from the back that he loves me and will give my all the chocolate.

I smiled.

"Okay I'll wrap up at work and will wait for you. Thanks I love you" I said and I hanged up when he said his goodbye.

They came pick me up 30 minutes later and I was already waiting in front of the building. I climbed in the back since Chris was already sitting next to Matt.

"I would switch with you" Chris said and I only shook my head.

"Hi...Its okay let's just drive home, I need to lay down" I said resting my head on the seat and closed my eyes.

"Hi... here Matt took this from your place" Nick said.

I opened my eyes and saw Nick holding water and ibuprofen for me.

“Thank you…” I took it.

I wanted to talk to them but I just felt like I could pass out any minute. I fall asleep the minute I gave Nick back the water.

“Hey… sweetheart we’re home” I felt Matt’s hand on my shoulder and heard his voice.

I opened my eyes. We were in their garage.

“Oh… sorry I fall asleep” I said.

“Don’t be silly you’re not feeling well. Do you want me to carry you? I already took all the stuff to my room” he said.

“No it’s okay” he moved so I could exit the car.

The moment I stood on my feet I hugged him tight.

“Hello” I said and smiled when I smelled my favorite scent in the whole world. Just him.

He laughed and kissed my head wrapping his arms around me.

“Hi love… let’s go upstairs,hm?” He stroked my back and kissed my forehead few times again and than my lips.

I smiled and moved away a little and we went upstairs.

I had a small talk with his brothers and than I went to take a shower and changed in comfortable clothes. When I came back into Matt’s room he was sitting at his desk. There were snack and food on his bed and my bag was next to the bed as well with target bag full of period stuff I needed.

“Matt… thank you you’re the best” I said and he smiles and stood up.

“Let’s eat knowing you last thing you ate was breakfast” he said and I made a face at him because that was true.

I felt a little better because the meds kicked in.

We ate dinner talking about our day and then Matt cleaned up and put on some movie.

I didn’t even know when I was asleep again but when I woke up the clock was showing 4 am. I was in so much pain and I felt like throwing up. I helped myself up on my arms and stood up. I went to the bathroom and just fell on my knees in front of the toilet. I did not really pay attention if Matt was up or not. But after I let everything out I felt cold towel being put on my neck and my hair was put in the ponytail. I wiped my mouth with the paper and flushed the toilet. I sat on the floor and rested my back on the shower glass.

"Baby....here" Matt gave me water in the cup and he was holding more medicine in his hands.

I opened my mouth and he helped me with it. I swallowed and closed my eyes for a second.

"I am so sorry I woke you up and you had to see this." I said.

I don't know why it was so bad this month. I always had bad periods but lately it was just like I couldn't walk and live for two days.

"Y/n its okay it is not your fault and also I am sorry that you have to feel all this pain I know I would probably die already" He said and it made my laugh.

"Yes I know you would" I said.

"Change and let's go back to bed I'll go grab the heated pad for you" He helped me up. He already brought the stuff to the bathroom.

I brushed my teeth and cleaned myself up and came back to the room. I climbed back to bed and Matt brought me close to his body. His hand slipped under my shirt and waist of my loose shorts. Not in any sexual way. He started to gently massage my abdomen.

"The heating pad is on the night stand for the nigh but it has to warm up" He said and I nodded.

"Matt I love you, you are the best thing that happened to me" I said and I had tears in my eyes. Because of the little things he did for me and him trying to ease my pain. I just wanted to cry.

"Don't cry, please" He said and kissed my shoulder.

"Im sorry its because of the hormones I swear" I laughed.

"Goodnight baby try to get some rest. I love you" He said.

I turned my head and gave him a quick kiss and he smiled a little.

"Goodnight" I said.

[bloatedandalone04]

The Only Reason

➪the one where leon finally gives you some much needed closure after four months of feeling nothing but regret from what he did.

Warnings: angst, fluff, making out, swearing, mentions of cheating, cheating, toxic relationships, mentions of a bad past, mentions of weight loss, all the ada slander in the world because i actually cannot stand her, mentions of unwanted sexual attention (from ada to leon), unwanted intimacy (from ada to leon), eating disorders (implied)

Word Count: 5.2k | Part 1

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The loud music and thumping of the walls were the last thing on Leon’s mind as he scanned every single room of the house. Chris decided to throw a housewarming party for Claire at her new place, and of course Leon was invited. 

Leon refused the initial invitation, but quickly changed his mind when Chris told him that you would be there. It seemed as though the brunet had long since grown sick of his friend’s moping and knew he had to do something about it. 

Pretty much everyone that Leon knew was here, yet he couldn’t seem to find you. The house wasn’t big, and it didn’t have very many rooms, but it seemed like it was still impossible to locate you. Not that he even had a right to. 

If he does manage to find you, what would he even say? “I’m sorry for everything, and for letting you leave without trying to fight for you. Also, I don’t blame you for ignoring my calls and not texting me back, I deserve that.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he sounded that desperate. Back when he was a dumb twenty one year old, he supposed. 

Leon has been here for over an hour now, and he still hasn’t seen you once. He was beginning to think that Chris lied to him just to get him out of the house he used to share with you. While he wouldn’t put it past him, Leon wanted to give Chris the benefit of the doubt and believe that he had good intentions when he invited him to this thing. 

Nearly giving up on his search, Leon heads back to the kitchen, where Jill hands him a bottle of beer. She leans against the counter and he does the same, his eyes still expertly scanning the room, just in case.  “Hey, Kennedy,” she greets as she sips on her own beer. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Been busy with work?”

Leon shrugs, his face almost emotionless. “Yeah,” he lied. Of course he had been going to work and successfully completing missions, but he hadn’t left the house outside of that. Work usually took up a good portion of his time, and the rest of it was spent thinking about how badly he fucked things up with you. 

It wasn’t even worth it. Ada. 

He hadn’t seen her since he broke off their little agreement a month before he confessed to you, despite her texting him and asking to meet up so he can fuck her in exchange for information he thought was worth more than you. 

It really wasn’t. 

He’s been ignoring her texts for months now, just like how you’ve been ignoring his. 

Leon had never blocked someone’s number ever in his life, but Ada was about to be the first if she didn’t take the hint and leave him the fuck alone. 

As much as he wanted to put all the blame on her, he knew it was half his own fault, as well. He couldn’t believe he had gone back to Ada Wong when he had you, his entire world, waiting for him at home. 

He knew he would never forgive himself, even if you somehow managed to move on and forgive him for the worst mistake he had ever made in his twenty nine years of living. 

Four months. 

It’s been four months and he was still beating himself up for what he did to you. 

“Yeah, Chris and I are looking into this new virus that is spreading down in Oxford. The cases have been going up daily, might be something you can help out with,” she offered, leaning closer to him so he could hear her better over the loud music. “You’re more experienced with viruses than anyone else I know.”

Leon gave her a tight lipped smile. “Sure, Jill,” he replied. “Whatever you need.”

“Great,” she says as she finishes off her beer. “You staying long? I never took you as the party type.”

He really wasn’t. He hadn’t been to a party since he was nineteen. Even the frat parties he was invited to were boring, so he never had the urge to go to anymore after the age of twenty. Until now, because he was told that you would be here. 

And he wanted to see you so badly. 

“I’m not, really,” he agreed and brought the bottle up to his mouth. “I just thought someone I know would be here-”

He wasn’t able to take a sip of the alcohol before his eyes landed on you as soon as you entered the room. 

All words had died on his tongue and the bottle was raised half way before his hand froze. 

You looked beautiful. Your cute white dress fit you well and showed off the concerning amount of weight you had lost. He hadn’t seen you that small since the beginning of your relationship, back when you didn’t know how to take care of yourself and listen to your body’s warnings. 

Leon felt his heart constrict at the thought of you going back to your old ways of ignoring the signs your body tried giving you. You were barely getting by when he met you, and you hadn’t gone completely back to that since leaving him, if your makeup and pretty hair were anything to go by. 

You hadn’t given up on yourself entirely, and that gave him enough hope that you would be okay. Even if he was given the chance to talk to you and explain things, he knew you weren’t completely broken like you were when you first started dating, and that you would be fine if you decided to never forgive him. 

Looking as shy as ever, you inch further into the room, seeming to have not noticed Leon yet as you ventured over to the bottles of booze that had been set out on the counter. “Oh, shit, is that Y/n?” Jill asked as she squinted in your direction. “I didn’t know she was coming, but that pretty much explains why you’re here. Are you okay?” 

Leon watched as you browsed through the drink options, dropping his arm back to his side and not caring about the beer that splashed onto his hand at the quick movement. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he slowly shook his head, a quiet “No,” leaving his mouth afterwards. 

Jill looked between the two of you, unsure of what to say. “Do you want to move to another room?”

Leon shook his head again. “No. You said it yourself, Jill. This is why I’m here,” he muttered and watched as a younger guy moved to stand next to you. He helped you pour a large amount of vodka mixed with ginger ale into a cup, and he quickly recognized the guy as one of the new agents Claire had befriended named Kegan. 

Kegan stepped closer to you and Leon could instantly tell that you were uncomfortable. He knew you like the back of his hand and could tell when you got nervous or anxious, like how you are right now. 

Leon stood up straight and placed the untouched bottle of beer behind him on the counter before making his way across the kitchen. 

Within four strides he is behind you and towering over Kegan, who noticed Leon long before you did. “Kennedy? Leon Kennedy is actually at a party? Wow, never thought I’d see the day,” 

Leon glared at him and it was then when you realized who was standing behind you. “You don’t know me,” Leon stated as you turned to face him, but he just kept his eyes on Kegan. Leon had quite the reputation at work, and he was well known as the guy who is more than capable of completing any mission, no matter how tough it may be. 

That being said, his superiority often annoyed the new guys as they tried to live up to the high expectations and standards of Leon Kennedy. 

“And you don’t know her, but I do, and I know she wants you to leave her alone but is far too nice to actually say that to you, so I’ll do it for her,” Leon continued and felt his heart skip a beat at the quiet gasp that left your lips. 

Kegan looked between you and Leon, and more specifically the protective look in his eyes, before backing away with his hands up. “My bad, man,” he shrugged. “Didn’t realize she was with you.”

He disappeared in the crowd as you turned completely to face your ex. “You didn’t need to do that,” you muttered and Leon could feel his face heat up at the fact that you were actually talking to him. You wore an annoyed look, but still, you’re talking to him. “I could’ve done that myself.”

Leon forced a grin to form on his lips. “But I bet you’re glad I did it, instead,” when you just shook your head and began to leave the kitchen, Leon stepped in front of you, refraining from grabbing your hand like he so desperately wanted to. “Wait, please.”

“What, Leon?” You asked and you sounded so exhausted, it made his heart physically break a bit. “What could you possibly have to say to me right now?”

“Everything,” he answered instantly. “I want to say everything I didn’t say the day you left. Please, give me a chance.”

You narrow your eyes and cross your arms. “It’s been months, Leon,” 

“Four,” he confirmed, watching the brief shock that flashed across your face. “And I’ve thought about you everyday for every one.”  

You give him a conflicted look that is quickly followed by a sigh. “There is nothing you can say that will fix what happened, just so you know,” 

Leon nodded and held his hand out to you, surprise filling him when you actually took it. “I just need you to know that it wasn’t your fault, and that it’s all on me,” he promised as he led you towards the front door, missing Chris’ look of relief as he passed him.

While he didn’t know the full story of what his friend did to you, he knew Ada had been involved in the reason you were no longer together. Chris was never a fan of Ada and how she treated Leon whenever the two crossed paths, and he was sure the blond felt the same way after being her little pet for years. He was sure the two of you would end up getting married, so he could not fathom how the fuck Leon had let Ada get in the way of what you and he had. 

All in all, he was sick of Leon’s bad moods, and wanted his friend to go back to normal. Well, as normal as Leon Kennedy could be. 

Leon led you out onto the front porch, and with one look from him, the two guys who were standing out there quickly scampered back into the house. Once you were alone, he turned back to face you with guilty eyes, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out what to say to you. 

He had wanted the chance to talk to you again for months, and now that you are actually here in front of him he was blanking. 

But he wouldn’t let his inability to form a proper sentence be what cost him his once chance at explaining to you why he did what he did.

An apology would be a good place to start, right?

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly as he finally allowed himself to look into your guarded eyes. You looked at him as if he were a stranger, and he supposed he kind of is now. The person you both thought he was would’ve never done what he did to you, no matter how important those fucking files were. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

You nod and lean back against the railing, crossing your arms as you stare at him with a soft glare. “I’m really glad we agree on that,”

He knew he deserved that. He deserved worse, actually, but you were simply too kind to completely go off on him, and he simply never deserved you in the first place. “That’s fair, you’re being hostile,” he mumbled and felt his skin begin to heat up under his dark leather jacket. “I know I have no right to even be talking to you right now, but I just need you to know that what I did with Ada was the worst thing I have ever done, and I’ve done a lot of bad shit in my life. None of them cost me you, though, so they’re not very high on that list.” 

You tense up at the name you’ve hated since the second you heard it, and the mention of her sent your insecurities right back to the front of your mind. “Yeah, well,” you trail off, kicking a stone that was on the porch away from you as you avoid his stare. “I hope she was worth it, because I haven’t been able to wrap my head around the fact that Ada fucking Wong is the reason the best relationship I had ever been in ended.”

“She wasn’t worth it,” he said instantly, taking a cautious step towards you. “She was never worth it, even back when I was a stupid twenty one year old and trying to start my career. She never cared, and I wasn’t smart enough to see that. I’m not smart at all. If I had half a brain I would’ve never gone back to her ever again.” 

You shake your head. “You can say that now, but it doesn’t change anything,” you mumbled. “You cheated on me with the one person I’ve been worried about since day one. You promised me that she was in your past, and that you were over her. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to believe that. Guess we’re both fucking dumb.”

“No,” he said sternly. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. Ada hasn’t had control over my heart for a long time now, it’s always been you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day we met, and that was years ago. I know I fucked up, but I’ve never stopped believing that you’re it for me. I don’t want anyone else, and that was clear after I met you.”

Your lip was quivering just slightly and you blinked back tears, trying to stick to your promise of never crying over the man in front of you ever again. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep that promise if you were to continue to talk to him. “Then why did you do it? Why did you ruin what we had?” You regretfully ask and quickly add, “And I want the truth, not some bullshit story you always seem to come up with. Be honest with me, Leon.”

Leon really felt pathetic at this point as he felt his heart jump a bit at the fact that you said his name. He missed you so much, he missed hearing your voice, and he missed the way his name sounded when it came out of your mouth. 

He knew his answer wouldn’t satisfy you at all, but he said it anyway, “It was just about work,”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” you say angrily, wiping under your eyes before he could see your tears. “Don’t waste anymore of my time, Leon. I refuse to spend another second with you if you’re just going to lie to me. You’ve done that enough.”

Leon shut up after that, shifting from one foot to the other and beginning to feel anxious. He shouldn’t feel this way around you. He had known you for four years and been with you for three, he should feel comfortable around you, but he supposed he lost that right, too. 

At his lack of words, you turn away and are about to head back inside when he grabs your wrist and pulls you away from the door. “Y/n, wait,” he begs, blue eyes clouding over with desperation as he stares hopelessly down at you. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. There are no words that could ever describe it. I hate that I hurt you and I hate that I fucked up the best thing I had going for me. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

You fell silent as your eyes flickered from his lips then back to his eyes. 

What if….for just one more night…what if.

“I should’ve never let you walk out that day without explaining to you that it was all my fault, just like how I should’ve never let Ada come anywhere near me. But I’m weak,” he was saying all the words he should have said to you the day he confessed that he had been seeing Ada. God, even her name made a feeling of disgust creep into his bones. “I’ve always been weak when it comes to you and my job and everything. I’m not cut out for this kind of thing, but you made me feel like I was. I can’t believe I took that for granted.” 

Your eyes burned once again and you moved to lean back against the railing when he inched closer.

“You’re everything to me, sweetheart,” he sounded so genuine, you almost thought you could believe him. He placed his hands on the railing behind you and leaned down so his face was close to yours. “You always will be. She is, by far, the biggest mistake of my life and I promise that I haven’t seen her since. I can’t stand even thinking about her-”

He wasn’t able to finish that sentence as you leaned in and pressed your mouth to his.

Just one more night. 

You just needed one more night with him, one where you could pretend you were still happy and still in love. One where you were still oblivious to the affair he was having with his ex…or whatever the fuck they were. 

Just one more night to fuck him out of your system, then you’ll never have to see him again after this. 

Leon got lost in the feeling of having your lips on his for the first time in months. His hands immediately grip your waist and his body presses right up against your own. 

He missed you more than anything else in the entire world. Every single inch of you, he craved it everyday. He was so fucking angry with himself for how he destroyed your relationship and for how he hurt you after he swore he wouldn’t. After he swore he was different. 

Really, he wasn’t far off from the assholes you had given your heart to in the past, even though he tried so hard to be. 

His fingers bunch up the fabric of your dress and he wanted to take you right there, right against the railing of his friend’s new porch, but you deserved more than that. He wanted to give you more than that. 

Your hands slide up to tangle in his hair and he never thought he’d ever get to feel your soft yet firm touch again. He couldn’t help but melt into it. 

Your lower back pressed against the cool metal and the contrast of it had you gasping against his mouth. 

Leon groaned at your quiet sound of pleasure and couldn’t deny how it went straight to his dick. Sometimes he really hated being a man who had no control over that part of his body. “Missed that sound,” he mumbled against your mouth. “Missed everything about you, pretty girl.” 

You moan into his mouth and he swallows it like the greedy man he is. “Take me home, Leon,”

It was like a switch had been flipped. He pulled away but kept his hands on your hips. Now that he had gotten a taste of you again, he never wanted to let you go. But he needed to focus on why he sought you out tonight. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he trails off, noting the brief look of embarrassment that flashed in your eyes. “I don’t want you to think that this is all I wanted out of-”

“I want it, Leon,” you cut him off, pulling him closer by his jacket. “I want you. I know you don’t want me anymore, but-”

He shook his head and pressed another kiss to your lips, against his better judgment. “I do still want you, baby,” he promised. “I want you, always.”

You bite down on your lip and don’t miss the way his eyes flicker downwards when you do so. “Then take me home,” you pressed, watching as he seems to have an inner battle with himself. 

You weren’t sure what result you wanted out of this; him agreeing and getting you off one last time, or him rejecting you of what he so gladly took from Ada. 

 Either way would provide you with some closure, you’d hope. 

A few more seconds pass before he’s moving away and taking your hand. He leads you to his car and drives the familiar road to the house you lived in with him not too long ago. 

As he guided you through the very door you walked out of the day he told you what he did, he gave you a conflicted look as he said, “Just so you know, this isn’t all I want from you. I meant everything I said before,”

You give him a blank look as you move closer to him. “I don’t care,” 

Leon looked like he was in agony as you grabbed his jacket and pulled it from his body. “Don’t say that,” he begged. “Please.”

You don’t say anything else as you pull on his hands and walk backwards until your knees hit the edge of the couch. Sitting on the armrest, you run your fingers down his toned chest and try to remember that this will be a one time thing. He wasn’t yours and this wouldn’t be like all the other times you and he had been intimate. 

“I don’t want to talk anymore,” you whisper, grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand to your chest. “So please, don’t say anything else.”

Leon could only nod, regret filling him at what he knew he made run through your head. You thought this was all he wanted, when in reality he just wanted you back. 

He leaned down and gently grabbed either side of your face as he kissed you deeply, pushing you back against the very couch you broke up with him on four fucking months ago. 

It was too much, but he couldn’t stop. He was too afraid you’d leave him forever if he did. He really was fucking weak when it came to you. He was selfish. 

He wanted you back so badly, his brain couldn’t keep up with his body. His lips were placing kisses desperately to your mouth as he felt your legs wrap around his waist. 

Leon wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to function again if you were to never talk to him after this. He didn’t even want to think about it. 

But it seemed as if you were doing the opposite. 

He kissed along your neck for a few seconds before hearing a sharp intake from you that was followed by the push of your hands against his shoulders. “Wait,” you nearly gasp, sitting up when he instantly pulls away from you, proving to you that he is at least a little better than your past boyfriends. They would have ignored you and continued touching you until they got what they wanted. 

Leon stood back and put a bit of distance between the two of you, his eyes guilty and his heart on his sleeve. “I’m sorry,” he says and you just shake your head, straightening your dress back out. 

“No, I initiated this. I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me,” you apologize and stand up. “I should go. This was a mistake.” 

Leon felt his heart break as you quickly stood up and made your way to the door. He got flashbacks to the day you left him, and he knew he wasn’t prepared to see you walk out that door for the second time. 

Maybe he didn’t have to.  

You passed by the counter and abruptly stopped, your eyes fixated on something on the granite. Leon held his breath as he watched you move towards the island, your hand reaching out to grab his keys. “Leon,” you gasped quietly, your fingers gently moving something on the chain. He knew what was on it. The ring haunted him every time he used his keys, and that was the exact reason why he attached it to the chain in the first place. 

He stayed still when you turned to look back at him, his keys held tightly in your hand.

“You kept it?” You asked in a hoarse voice. You would recognize that ring anywhere, even after only seeing it one time. You couldn’t believe he kept it instead of selling it, and you were heartbroken to discover that he saw it every day whenever he entered or left his house. 

Your question offended him, but he’d never show it. “Of course I kept it,” and yet another flashback flickered in his head. 

You weren’t sure you wanted the answer, but you asked, anyway, “Why?”

Leon hardly moved as he answered, “As a reminder,” 

And it was the truth. 

And then you broke your promise as the first of many tears began to fall. 

You wished you never met him. Never said yes when he asked you out on a date, said no when he asked you to move in. You wished you didn’t agree to come to that stupid housewarming party, because now you felt lost all over again. 

Setting the keys loudly on the counter, you turn to face him fully. “Why?” You asked, your voice angry and shaky as you tried to keep your cool. “Why did you do it? I loved you more than anything else. You saved my life, Leon. Why didn’t that mean anything to you?”

Leon felt his own eyes burn as he stepped away from the couch but made no move to walk over to you. “It means the world to me, Y/n,” he promised, his heart begging his body to take you into his arms, but he held back. “So do you.”

Your lower lip trembled as you moved to stand in front of him. “Why?” You ask again, much quieter this time around. You reach up and push on his chest just slightly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t faze him one bit. And it didn’t. “Why did you go to her?”

Leon refrained from taking your hands that were still on his chest in his. “Because she had something I needed,” he regretfully answered. 

Your brows furrow and he knew he accidentally offended you with his poor choice of words. “What, I wasn’t good enough? Didn’t put out enough for you?”

“No,” he said immediately, going against his better judgment again and wrapping his fingers around your wrists. “You’re more than enough for me. You always have been and you will be forever. The thought of doing that with her made me sick and I hate myself for it, but it was the only way she would give me the information I needed for my job.”

Your eyes softened a bit but your whole body was still guarded. “Your job you can’t tell me anything about?” 

“Yes,” he whispered, his face twisting up in agony when more tears fell from your eyes. “That’s the only reason I went to her. She had something I needed, but if I ever had to do it all over again, I’d tell her to fuck off and I’d get it some other way. I can’t stand the fact that I hurt you like that.”

You tried to process his words, but you didn’t know what to think anymore. 

You believed him, and it was clear he felt awful about all that came out of his encounters with Ada. But you also weren’t sure what he wanted out of this encounter with you. Yeah, it appeared he wanted to fix things, but who’s to say he won’t shatter your heart again? 

You couldn’t take much more. You knew that. 

“It was just for work?” You asked quietly, avoiding his eyes as he pressed your hand flat against his chest. “You’re not in love with her?”

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head to further get the point across. “No. I don’t love her, not anymore. Maybe I never did. She never made me feel the things you did and still do. My heart was never hers. It’s yours. Even after tonight, I’ll still be yours, even if you aren’t mine.”

Your eyes were begging for a break, but the tears kept coming. “My heart is yours, Leon. It’s yours to break,” you whisper. “And you did.”

He couldn’t stop himself from taking you into his arms. He wrapped you up and let out a sigh of relief when you let him, and even held onto his waist. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “So fucking sorry. I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I’d use my last breath for you, baby. You’re my entire world. You’re everything.”

“Leon,” you beg, bunching his shirt up in your fists. “Don’t do this to me again. Don’t hurt me again, I-....I can’t take it.”

“I won’t,” he promised, cradling the back of your head in his hand as if you were the most frail and fragile thing in the world. “I love you so much. It’s you who I want for the rest of my life. I never doubted that. I never want you to doubt that.”

You nod and press your head to his chest. “It’s going to take some time,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe a lot of time-”

“I’ll wait forever for you,” he swore, leaning back and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He was shaking now, disbelief filling his entire being at the fact that you were letting him hold you like this again. 

You look over at his keys before meeting his eyes again. “I won’t forget about what you did, Leon,” you murmur, watching the guilt seep back into his blue orbs. “But I’m willing to forgive….I just need time.”

Leon nodded, wrapping you back up in his arms. “I’ll give you all the time you need, I promise,” he rasps. “Just don’t leave me again.”

He had no right asking you that, but he also had no control over his words at this point. 

But you just pressed your lips to the side of his neck. “Don’t give me another reason to,”

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter four ⭐︎ Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of loss, allusions to depression, fear of loss, hurt/comfort. reader calls her sister 'twinkie', mentions of abuse, mentions of sex

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: As Steve shows up on your doorsteps with an apology, you let him see more of just the you he already knows

Word count: 7.6k+

Author's note: shoutout to my co-writer (shut up, you wrote the dialogues and ideas with me, don't say anything) @hellfire--cult

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Breathe in. Breathe out.

His heart was pounding, his body was shaking, his eyes wide, blinking rapidly as he stared at the same exact spot. The dried blood on his hands was starting to make him feel sick. It was Eddie’s blood. He hadn’t cleaned it off yet, he was still in shock, still in pain after what they had all gone through. 

Eddie made it, he was going to be okay, his injuries were bad and he was losing blood, a lot of blood, but he would be okay. And yet, Steve had felt anything but it. 

He almost lost a friend, he almost lost Max, he almost lost… you. 

He was sitting down beside you, though he couldn’t bring himself to look up and face you. You looked so… dead. Your skin lost its color, and the bandage around your head was new, yet there was a blood stain already. The machines were beeping beside you, it was the only sound in the room. 

And then the door opened, only then did he lift his head to look up, expecting it to be your parents or maybe your sister but it was only Nancy. A cup of coffee from the machine outside in her hand, a sad look still resting on her features. 

“Hey,” she whispered as she walked towards him, handing him the cup, “here, I didn’t know what you liked so I just got you a regular coffee.”

They’d been together for over a year and she couldn’t even remember what he liked. Should he even be surprised? No. A small thing like this still managed to hurt him. 

“Thanks, Nance,” he mumbled as he tried to give her a smile. He reached for the cup, ignoring the way it felt when his fingers brushed hers, how his heart had fluttered despite her rejection only a few hours back. 

She cleared her throat and looked away, sitting down at the end of the bed, she looked at you. 

He took a sip of the hot coffee as he leaned back in the chair, he avoided looking at you still, instead he kept his focus on her, the way he always did. There was disbelief, anger and sadness flashing in her eyes as she stared at you. 

“I can’t believe that Jason did that to her,” she whispered, “I knew I saw something in his eyes, I just didn’t think that he was this violent.” 

Steve nodded. 

He too was still in disbelief. 

You survived the night in the upside down, you fought off bats, didn’t even bat an eye when one of them got you good, but Jason, you almost didn’t survive him. And Steve felt so much rage as he sat there and thought of the guy that almost murdered you. 

“Yeah, me neither.”

There are monsters in different dimensions, in dark worlds, ones that do not know of a different way of living, they exist to kill because it is in their nature. But sometimes there are worse monsters, ones that hide behind kind eyes, ones that are raised into a world that should be more humane but because of them, it never will be. This world will always be just as dark as all the other ones that exist in secret. Jason was one of the monsters that got to you. 

This world is a hell just like the ones he and his friends had been dragged into but there’s still kindness left, peace and order. Though, Steve couldn’t help but wonder what this world would have turned into if Vecna had won. 

He would have brought endless war and chaos on this planet and people would have followed, they would have turned against each other so quickly. Everything would have crumbled into pieces. 

Shivers ran down his spine as he thought of what could’ve happened had they not stopped him. You were a part of it all, you helped in stopping him, had you not been at the Creel house, things could’ve gone sideways so easily. 

“Hey,” Steve whispered, clearing his throat. “Thank you… You know, for jumping into the water and saving my ass back there.”

Nancy furrowed her brows, a soft laugh fell from her lips, she looked away from you and turned to face him, shaking her head a little. 

“Everyone did.. And, she did first. She jumped first on the boat and she jumped first into the water, then I followed, then Robin and then Eddie.” 

His eyes widened, flashed with confusion as he tilted his head at her. 

“Huh? Who jumped first?” 

Nancy’s blue eyes were filled with confusion, her bangs fell in front of her eyes as she turned back to you, saying your name. 

You were the first to jump. 

You were the one to go after him first. 

You wanted to save him. 

How could he throw such horrible words at you after what you had done for him? After risking your life to save him? 

He wouldn’t even be able to begin to describe the guilt that kept him up all night. He wanted nothing more than to drive over to your place and apologize, even if he would have to drop to his knees, he would. 

But Max had told him that it was better to wait, to give you the time that you need, so that’s what he did. But he was going crazy, the guilt and the regret were eating at him, making him feel worse and worse with each passing second. 

Going to work that day had been torture as well, he was nervous and restless, he kept bouncing his knee and tapping his pen against the unmarked crossword in front of him. His mind was forcing him to think of you, of the look in your eyes, of the tears and the hurt. He felt so awful, he felt like King Steve again and he is someone he despises, just the way he despises himself, right this second. 

Robin told him to leave before he could even finish his shift, knowing that all he wanted was to set things straight, to make things right with you. 

And here he is now, standing on your porch with a racing heart and sweaty palms. 

He doesn’t know how you will react to seeing him here, but knowing you, he is certain that you will slam the door in his face – he’d deserve it. 

He rang the doorbell once before, but you didn’t open it. He wonders if you saw his car in your driveway already. He rings it again, hoping for you to open, hoping for you to give him a chance so he can… try, try to make it up to you. 

He tugs at his hair, feeling more and more stressed the longer it takes you to open. As he stands there, staring at the wooden door, he realizes that it’s only the second time that he stands here, on your porch, on the doorsteps of a big house, just as big as the one he lives in, if not bigger. The inside of your home is just as much of a mystery to him as you are. 

Steve knows nothing about you, absolutely nothing and he still opened his mouth and threw words at you that you didn’t deserve – even when you pushed him, even when you were being mean to him, you had never sunk so low just to hurt him, not once. 

After he got all this anger off his chest, you were no longer the girl he saw before, you were someone else, someone vulnerable, someone heartbroken and that hurt even more to think about. 

He gets pulled out of his thoughts when you finally open the door. He snaps his head up and his eyes meet yours for the first time that day. 

He had seen you in a bad state before, after your fight with Jason Carver, after the surgery that saved your life, you looked bad. Your skin was marked with bruises and scars, you had that traumatized look in your eyes that no one dared to even mention. You barely ate or talked for the first few days, whether it was because of the surgery or the trauma that Carver had left you with, you were in a bad, bad state. 

But he had never seen you like this before. 

Not even the sadness from last night was this strong as the one in your eyes now. They are glassy, a mix of anger and hurt swirling in them. Your lips are puffy just like your eyes, from all the crying. Your hair is messy, a big hoodie that doesn’t even seem to belong to you hanging loosely on your form. 

Another pang of guilt hits him at the sight of you. 

You stare at each other for a long moment before you try to slam the door shut again, but he jumps forward, pressing his palm against it, “Blondie, please! I just want to talk!” 

He hears your sniffle, like you’re trying not to cry again. You stop pushing against the door but you don’t pull away either, you don’t let him see you. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he hears you say. 

“I-I just want to apologize, I was an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve it. I messed up.. fuck..” He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling desperate to fix this between you two, “I’m sorry, I’m really fucking sorry, Blondie.” 

“Y-You’re forgiven, now please leave..”

The weakness in your voice makes him feel like the worst person alive, knowing that he is the cause of your suffering, right now. 

How did you feel last night? 

“No,” he begs, shaking his head as though you could see him, “please just let me in, I-I want to talk to you, I want to fix it, please let me fix it.” 

You are silent on the other side of the door, you don’t move, you don’t speak. You hesitate. And it feels like forever that he stands here with a pounding heart, willing you to open the door and let him see you, talk to you. 

Without a word, you open the door and you step aside, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He swallows the lump in his throat, blinking as he takes in the sight of you, once again. 

You stare at him with both impatience and annoyance now, wanting to get this over with quickly, while he wants time – time with you. 

He had never felt such desperation before, especially now that he sees you. 

“There’s nothing to fix, it’s okay, you told me what you–”

He says your name, and he says it so desperately that it shuts you up. 

“I won’t leave until I can properly apologize to you.” 

You blink, your upper lip twitches and you take a moment, staring at him for what feels like forever until you nod. 

“Fine..”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. 

He takes a deep breath before he steps inside the house he has never been in before, he closes the door behind him and he can’t help but look around, taking in the sight of the big hallway, the wide stairs are on the right side, pictures hang on the wall all the way up to the second floor, there is one that is slightly bigger than the others, and even from afar, he recognizes you – you are no older than twelve in that picture, you wore a wide smile on your face, pigtails that were tied with pink bows at the end, you were wearing a dress and you looked happy in a way he had never seen before. Your big sister was next to you, holding your hand as your parents stood behind you both, the smiles were genuine, even on their faces. 

Only as he stares at the picture, does he realize that he has never actually seen your parents before. 

“Are your parents home?” He asks without looking at you, still questioning 

You hesitate. 

“No… I uh, do you want something to drink?” You ask awkwardly, not knowing what else to say or do.

Steve is too busy staring at the picture, trying to remember your parents, wondering why they didn’t come to visit you at the hospital, only your sister came to see you.

When he looks down at you, away from the picture of the girl that once looked so happy, he now sees a broken one, for the first time, he sees past those glares and cold looks. 

He runs his fingers through his hair. 

“I-I’m sorry… I’m really sorry about all the awful shit I said to you last night, I was angry a-and I let it out on you and you did not deserve this, you really didn’t deserve any of the words I threw at you.” 

You blink, and you press your lips together just like you did before, just like you did last night. 

“It’s okay–”

“No, I said things that I had no clue about and I never wanna do that again. I just, I want to understand you.. I want to get to know you because.. fuck, I’m realizing how much I’m hurting you.”

Your eyes soften and you genuinely look surprised at his words, eyeing him as you stay silent. 

You don’t blame him, he’s not at fault, not entirely. He knows nothing about you or your life, so how could he know that those words would cause so much damage? 

You carry guilt, just like he does. 

You both kept throwing knives at each other, hitting one target after the other but you were both blindfolded to the pain you were causing to each other. 

You shift, pulling at the sleeves of the sweater you are wearing, you close your eyes for one second, taking a deep breath, before you open them again and look up at Steve. 

“What do you want to know?” You ask, surprising him with your words. 

He expected you to be more stubborn than this, but you seem willing to let him get to know you, the real you. 

“Anything you want to give me really.. so… I just want to stop hurting you without me realizing it… I don’t… I need to stop hurting you, Blondie.”

You look at him, really look at him, and you notice that he looks just as bad as you do. His hair is messy – a very unusual sight for him. He has dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept all night and his eyes are filled with guilt.

With a sigh, you tilt your head into the direction of the living room, motioning him to follow. You turn on the lamp on the dresser, making the room appear lighter, it’s gloomy outside and the rain has been falling all morning, it only just stopped. 

“Sit,” you mumble, pointing to the couch, “wait here.” 

He nods at you and sits down, he watches you leave the room again and listens to your footsteps as you make your way upstairs. He looks around, there are fewer pictures around here, though still enough for him to get curious about your parents again. There’s a bouquet of fresh flowers on the small table in front of him – Daisies. A throw blanket lays on the other end of the couch, an open book next to it, were you reading when he got here?

It doesn’t take you long to come back into the room. 

Steve’s brows furrow a little when he sees the shoebox in your hand, you place it in front of him and take a deep breath as you look into his eyes, pointing to the box. 

“Here’s everything you need to know about me.”

His lips part at your words. 

“You can look, I’ll tell you anything you want to know and then we can… move past all of this and go back to the way things were before yesterday.” 

He blinks, noticing how your shoulders slumped a little, you don’t want to go back to the way things were, and neither does he. He enjoys the bickering but not when it means that he is hurting you. 

You break eye contact, and turn around, “I’m gonna get us something to drink, feel free to look..” 

And with that, you leave again and Steve, he stares at the box for a while, feeling like he is about to intrude, despite you telling him to open it, to look inside, he still feels like he is intruding. But his curiosity gets the best of him, he removes the lid carefully and puts it down on the table. 

Polaroid Pictures. 

So many of them. The box is filled, all the way up to the top with pictures of friends and family. The first one that catches his eye is the one of you and Max. He reaches for it, bringing it closer. You are both smiling into the camera, Max is wearing her red sunglasses and you are wearing your heart shaped ones, an ice cream cone in her hand and a can of diet pepsi in yours – he can’t help but smile as he stares at it, you looked so happy. 

The date was written under the picture, with a pink sharpie: May 7th 1985. 

He places the picture down, reaching for the next one. 

This one doesn’t have you on it, only your sister, with a black cat on her lap – Luna, the cat’s name was Luna, he overheard you talking about her to Max. And your sister, he doesn’t remember her actual name, only the nickname you called her when she came to see you at the hospital; Twinkie. He almost laughed at that, the first time he heard it.

The next one is one of you and your dad at the beach, he recognizes him from the picture in the hallway. Both of you were holding surfboards. Your eyes shone with happiness, a bright grin on your face, your dad’s arm was wrapped around your shoulder. In this picture, you looked even happier than in the one from last year. – This one was taken in the summer of 1981, you were only fourteen. 

He flinches a little when you place a soda can in front of him, “here, I found some coke in the fridge, figured you’d prefer that.” 

He raises his brows and then looks at the pepsi you’re holding in your hand. 

“Oh, thanks,” he mumbles, trying to smile. 

You nod at him as you sit down beside him, looking at the picture that he’s holding. 

“We spent the summer in California, my parents had a summer house in Monterey.” 

“Had?”

You nod. 

“Yeah,” you whisper as sadness takes over your features, a sadness he hadn’t seen before. It’s not the kind that he had seen last night. It’s one that reminds him of grief, like the one on Max’s face when she mentions Billy. 

Oh no. 

“My sister sold it last year, I asked her not to but.. for some reason that house gave her more painful memories than this one,” you say as you gesture to the room you sit in, you lean forward, placing your drink on the table as you reach for a picture in the box, “that was.. that was two weeks before they uh.. got into an accident.” 

You hand him a picture but he can’t look at it yet, too busy staring at you and at the way you try to hide the tears in your eyes. 

Steve’s heart aches in his chest, the guilt eating at him like never before. 

“I-I’m so sorry, Blondie,” he whispers as he slowly looks down at the picture, at your parents who both smiled into the camera. That one was also taken in the summer of 1981.

Steve started to feel a little sick as the seconds went by, at each picture that he looked at.

“Twinkie and I took the flight back with our grandparents, we wanted to spend one more week with them in Indianapolis before going back to Hawkins, we didn’t know that this would be the last time we’d ever see them.” 

His heart no longer aches at your words, it breaks for you. He didn’t know this, he never knew anything about you. You lost your parents when you were so young, right before your first year in high school. 

Now he understands why you had always looked so.. lost. 

Why you had been so rude and unapproachable. You pushed people away while you were grieving, you didn’t want anyone to see.

He doesn’t know what to say, no words will give you the comfort that you still clearly need. 

“I-I never knew.”

You chuckle as you look at him, still blinking away those tears, “I didn’t want anyone to know, especially not when it just happened.”

“Why not?”

“I’d forever be the girl that lost her parents, and honestly, I’d rather have the whole school hate me than give me pitiful looks.”

“Of course,” he mumbles, shaking his head at you. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” he shrugs, running his fingers through his messy hair after he puts the picture down, “you’re just so… I don’t know, it’s just.. classic you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, not with anger in your voice but with curiosity. 

“Well, you’d rather have the whole world hate you than let them see you vulnerable.” 

You shake your head at him and his eyes meet yours as he turns back. There is that look in your eyes, the one that reminds him that he doesn’t know anything about you. 

“I let some see.” 

Right. Some. 

He nods and looks away. 

He’s surely not one of those that you let see.

When he reaches for the next picture, he freezes, staring at the two little girls with wide eyes. It’s not hard to figure out who the one next to you is. Strawberry blonde hair, the two front teeth way too big for the small face, she was wearing a cheerleader costume – not knowing that she would’ve become cheer captain years later. Chrissy Cunningham. 

The girl next to you was Chrissy, you were hugging each other from the side, giggling. 

He looks at you, you were wearing a fairy costume, green and pink colors on the dress, and your smile was big. You looked happy. 

He shakes his head a little, not understanding what he sees in front of him. 

He had never seen you and Chrissy around each other, not even once. In fact, he rarely ever saw you around anyone for that matter. Sometimes he saw you talking to Jonathan, something that gave him more of a reason to dislike you back then, he’d throw the word ‘freaks’ at the two of you whenever he passed by you. The memories of that fill him with guilt and regret, he always wishes that he could turn back time and change things, change the way he acted. 

But he never ever saw you even talking to Chrissy.

He slowly turns to face you, holding up the polaroid, “y-you and Chrissy knew each other?”

You only glance at the picture before you look down, “yeah, we were childhood best friends, we grew apart but… we still kept in touch. She’d stay over sometimes.” you explain, not meeting his eyes.

You lost your parents. You lost a friend. 

His words from last night echo in his mind and the guilt crashes over him, harder than before. 

No words appear before him, what can he say that will make you feel better in the slightest? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

But the monsters have gotten to her without her knowing about them.

That’s what Max had told him. Now he understands. Even more so, when a different picture catches his eye, one that shocks him even more than the previous one. 

Only this time, he doesn’t just freeze, he feels a shiver running down his spine and his chest feels weird, all of a sudden. Because the guy in the picture isn’t someone he ever expected you around with. 

He takes it, between his thumb and his forefinger, bringing it closer with a shaky hand. He blinks, like he can’t believe what he is seeing, but it’s real, it’s so very real. No amount of blinking will transform the guy into someone else. It’s unmistakably Billy Hargrove in your collection of polaroids, a collection that reminds you of the people you loved. The box of memories that is frozen in time. 

Billy is sitting on the hood of his car, a cigarette held between his fingers as he snickered at the camera. It was taken back in 1984. 

You were friends with Billy Hargrove? 

He can’t even utter a single word, just reaching for the next picture which is just another one of him. 

Billy was lying on the grass, probably in your backyard, his eyes were barely open but he was smiling into the camera, with a thumbs up in the air. It’s clear that he was drunk when you took that picture. 

He feels your eyes on him, he notices you shifting on the couch as you lean back, still looking at him. He doesn’t turn to face you, not yet. Too curious to find more pictures of Billy, he doesn’t expect the next ones to be more intimate than the ones before. 

He stares at the one of you first, it looks as though you have cried, but you are smiling, and the only thing that covered your body was a blanket, while pushing the camera out of your face. 

And for a moment, Steve can’t help but think how beautiful you look in this picture with your hair all messy, your exposed skin looking so soft and glowy beneath dim lights, and a smile so content. 

But the picture of Billy makes him frown. He was sitting on your bed, shirtless and with a cigarette between his lips, his eyes were red but he was smiling just like you were. 

It’s obvious what happened before these pictures were taken and he can’t shake the weird feeling in his gut, the longer he looks at them. 

Were you and Billy dating? 

Is that why you have been so miserable since last summer? Because he was just another name on the list of people you have lost?

As though you can read his mind, you lean closer to him, reaching for the first picture you ever took of him, the one where he sits on the hood of his car. 

“I ran into Billy at Big Buy’s, well, behind the building. He was smoking a cigarette and he was crying. I hadn’t seen him before, it was the weekend before school started again. I approached him and he obviously tried to scare me off, but… fucker didn’t know who he was talking to,” you chuckle. “He was being rude, like really rude, calling me names and trying to get me to leave, I stepped on his foot and he yelped, literally yelped. I left after that but uh, after that, we just started pestering each other at school and then one day, he showed up here, with a bleeding nose and a busted lip, he didn’t know where else to go.”

Steve watches you, the way your eyes are filled with sadness as you look at the pictures in front of you. 

“It took him a while but eventually, he opened up to me, about his dad and everything.”

He knows about Billy’s dad, about the abuse, the emotional and physical abuse. Max told him all about it. 

“So uh, then that happened,” you murmur, awkwardly, not meeting his eyes as you point to the pictures of the two of you only covered by the sheets. 

“Were you two dating?” He asks, and somehow he feels a knot in his stomach at that question. 

You scrunch your face up at his words, almost in a way that makes him laugh. You shake your head at him. 

“Fuck no. We weren’t even attracted to each other. I just, at that point we were close and I trusted him so uh.. I just wanted to do it with someone that I felt comfortable with and uh, the beer helped too, I guess,” you say with a small smile on your lips.

Steve turns away from you, biting the insides of his cheeks, the knot slowly undoing itself in his belly.

“We never mentioned it again after this, it wasn’t awkward or anything, we were just.. best friends.” 

There is no bitterness in your voice, he notices. You had no feelings for Billy and that for some reason, and that for some reason makes his shoulders relax.

He looks back at you when he feels your eyes on him, your smile has fallen.

“He came to my house… you know.. after he beat you up and he was drugged by Max.”

He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips. 

“What?”

“I told him that it was wrong, what he did, that you did the right thing, that I told him time and time to lay off Max. Damn, I even slapped him across his head when he broke her skateboard.”

His eyes soften, and his lip twitches. 

“I-I was doing the right thing?”

“You protected Lucas. When I found out how he was treating him I got so mad at him, we got into a fight and I didn’t talk to him for days. I just hated what he did to him and to Max,” you mumble, breaking eye contact when the look in his eyes gets a little too intense for you. You also didn’t like what Billy did to Steve, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Billy he was.. driven by his father’s words and actions. The abuse turned him into that. He was vulnerable with me, but– the anger was still inside of him… bright red.”

As Steve looks back at the pictures, he realizes that he had never seen Billy like this, happy, smiling. He almost looks like a different person. Regret floods through him, he can’t help but wish that he would’ve gotten to know this side of Billy, the one that you knew, maybe things would’ve gone differently if he did, maybe Max wouldn’t have lost her brother. 

“I never saw Hargrove like this.”

“No one did,” you shrug, “only me, sometimes Max. I-I tried to change him and his dumb views but Billy was just.. stubborn and angry.” You shake your head, blinking away the tears that welled up in your eyes, you close them and tilt your head down. “A-And then he pushed me away when he.. when he was possessed.” 

Steve notices the way your voice got so much more shaky than before, how you seem to be on the verge of tears. 

“Max,” he whispers, now understanding why or who the reason was for your friendship. 

“Yeah… Max. We received letters, well, notes from Billy,” you mumble. 

He watches how you bring your hand up to your face, wiping away the tears with the sleeves before you reach for something in the box, a folded piece of paper that you hand to him. 

“He told me to stay away in mine, all messy, but he said that he didn’t hate me, that he could never..”

Steve doesn’t open the note, your words are enough, he doesn’t want to intrude more than he already did, he understands this enough. Billy pushed you away to keep you safe, and he did it with cruel words to keep you away, because he knew that that would work with you. 

Steve is at a loss for words.

“And Max, he called her his sister in hers. She didn’t read the note until a few weeks later though.”

Steve’s eyes widen, and it all clicks in his head. 

Why Max had been suffering as much as she did in those months after Billy’s death, why she seemed more depressed than ever when the summer was over. 

“Is that why you are so close with her? … For Billy?” 

“Yeah,” you whisper, nodding. “She’s like a sister to me, I’d do anything for her.”

And you did. You did and you almost gave your life protecting her. 

“And I almost lost her too.”

Just like everyone else you loved and cared about. 

Steve’s words did more damage than he thought they did, and they echo in his mind, over and over again. 

Don’t you ever ask yourself why you don’t have anyone? Why no one bothers to stick around because I’d be really surprised if someone did. 

The nausea that fills him almost overwhelms him, it almost knocks the breath out of him. He swallows harshly, and he starts to put the polaroids back into the box, blinking as he looks at each and every one of them again. 

His eyes linger on the one of you smiling, the one from the year before. When you found your happiness again when a new friend had stepped into your life. 

Steve couldn’t stand Billy Hargrove, he really couldn’t stand him, but his death was cruel and even he didn’t deserve what happened to him and you didn’t deserve to lose another person you cared about. 

You lost. You lost people, you lost family, you lost friends and you lost your spark, your happiness. And now he understands why you are the way that you are. Why you keep pushing everyone away, you’re scared to lose again, scared to get too close to someone only to watch them being taken away from you. 

As he stares at your smile, he can’t help but frown at the picture in his hand because he will never get to see this. He will never see you like this with him and in this moment, he can’t help but envy those who will. 

“You are right.” His voice sounds small, filled with regret, filled with sadness and hurt.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know what loss is. I– shit. I don’t know if I could have handled it like you did.”

You feel your eyes burning at his words and before you can even try to blink your tears away, one falls from your eye. 

Steve’s eyes soften when he hears your sniffle, he watches the tear roll down your cheek. He moves without thinking, raising his hand up to your face, he catches the tear with his thumb.  

You freeze and your lips part in surprise, his touch giving you butterflies despite what happened yesterday. 

His touch feels so foreign on your skin, yet comforting and warm, like something that you have been craving and longing for since always. You slowly turn to face him and only then, does he realize what he did. 

His cheeks flush red and his eyes fill with embarrassment, he clears his throat and pulls his hand away from your face, not knowing that this makes you feel empty again. 

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, apologizing to him, for the first time. “Knowing that they’re alive yet still deciding to leave you behind.. that’s not easy either.”

He appreciates your words and his lip twitches, he shrugs, trying to play it off – The pain he always endured by himself and never voiced out, and he won’t start doing it now. It’s done with.

“I have the kids and Robin.”

“Right,” you whisper as you push yourself up, unable to sit here with him any longer, you reach for the box, ignoring the confused look that he gives you, “they take care of you.” 

He noticed the sarcastic tone at that last phrase, but he nodded either way. 

“Okay uh, time to go, Lego head. I need a shower.”

This time, he can’t help but smile at the nickname. 

“Okay, Blondie.”

You lead him back out into the hallway, avoiding the hazel eyes that fill your heart with nothing but sadness and longing. 

You feel your heart pounding, your eyes still burning as you feel yourself nearing the edge of yet another breakdown this day. 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, taking a hold of your arm he pulls you back so he can see your face again. 

“Yeah?” 

Your eyes show him so much and now he can’t help but wonder if these emotions have always been there and he was just too blind to see them or if you only showed them now. 

“I’m really sorry about everything,” he whispers. 

Your lips twitch, though not into a smile. 

“Me too, Steve.”

He keeps holding your arm, ignoring the wish to hold you instead. 

“Are we.. good?” 

His question makes you laugh and you squint your eyes. 

“When have we ever been good?”

He rolls his eyes, though he can’t help but smile. He brings his left hand up, running his fingers through his messy hair.

There is that look in his eyes, the one that shows you that he is thinking about something, deeply. 

“Do I still call you Blondie…?” He asks as he realizes that he had always called you by a name that must have taken you back to a time where you had felt the saddest, the loneliest. You were fifteen when you had bleached your hair and tried out new styles, all the time. He never knew that it was something that you needed to do, to distract yourself from the grief. You had no friends, no one to talk to, no one to be with. You only had that – box dye, makeup and new clothes every week. 

Oh. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, digging your nails into your palm. He knows. 

“I would be mad if you didn’t. It’s weird when you say my name, Harrington.” 

He chuckles, shaking his head a little.

“Yeah yeah, Blondie, keep acting like you don’t like it.”

You smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes and he can see it.”

“I guess we’re still Lego head and Blondie then, huh?” He asks, snorting. 

“Always.”

He licks his lips, nodding. 

“Always,” he chuckles as he lets go of you and walks towards the door, he opens it, but he doesn’t step out, right away. He looks back at you, one more time, “you know, I didn’t mean a single thing that I said to you, last night. And I’ll do anything for you to believe me. B-But, I think that you’re amazing and the people that had the chance to get to know you… the real you were really fucking lucky.” 

He leaves you with those words, closes the door and walks away from you. 

And you stare at the front door for what feels like forever before you finally break into tears. You were pushing away your pain and your sadness but the fight from last night, his presence and his words have made it all so much worse again. 

You bury your face in your hands as you sit down on the stairs, letting tears fall that you haven’t felt in ages but instead of relief, you feel frustration running through you. You didn’t miss this, you didn’t miss this for a single second. 

There is a knock on the front door and it fills you with annoyance when you expect it to be Steve again. 

Wiping your tears with anger, you rip open the door, expecting to see him again but instead it’s Max on your doorstep. Max and Eddie. 

You blink, looking between them, back and forth. 

Max’s blue eyes fill with worry as she looks into your glassy eyes. 

Eddie smiles at you, despite matching the look in her eyes. 

“Hey, you didn’t let me come in yesterday so I assumed that if I brought Red here you would let us in,” he says, still smiling cheekily. “We brought movies and got your favorite snacks,” he points to Max’s backpack.

You don’t know what comes over you, but the kind smile on his face, of the guy that has been trying desperately to be your friend, makes you want to continue crying. You don’t know how, but you keep your tears at bay.

You know that they can see that you were crying, but it brings you comfort to know that neither of them will push you to talk about anything. 

“Hey guys,” you try to put on your best smile as you greet them, you step aside without another word.

Eddie’s smile widens, he bumps his shoulder into Max. 

“Hey,” she smiles, still eying you worriedly, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, placing your hand on her shoulder, “I’m okay.” 

She doesn’t look convinced but she doesn’t push you to talk, she doesn’t ask any more questions either. She just walks straight into the living room. 

“She feels at home, huh?” Eddie chuckles. 

“It’s basically her second home so yeah,” you laugh. 

His brown eyes take you in, his lips twitch but his smile doesn’t fall. He looks like he wants to say something but he doesn’t speak up. 

You both follow Max into the living room, expecting her to be unpacking the snacks but instead she stands there frozen in place as she stares at the box of polaroids.

Your eyes widen and in panic, you rush over to the coffee table, wanting to close the box. 

“S-Shit, I’m sorry–”

“No!” She grabs your hand before you reach for the lid. “I-It’s okay, I’m okay. A-Are you though?” She asks as she looks away from the pictures of Billy. 

Eddie looks between you two, furrowing his brows as he takes a step closer. He looks into the box and his eyes widen instantly. 

“Holy shit, is that–”

“Eddie don’t,” Max warns him.

You shake your head, “no.. no, it’s okay, Max.”

Eddie doesn’t even look at Max or you, he is staring at the picture of her brother, in shock. 

“I-I promise, it’s okay,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose as you feel your heart starting to pound again, “I just.. I need some fresh air, I’ll be right back.” 

You leave the room, rushing out of the house. You sit down on the porch steps, taking a deep breath. The earthy smell that lingers after the rain comforts you a little. 

You knew you wouldn’t get more than a minute to yourself, because only moments later, the door opens. You know that it’s Eddie, you hear the flick of his lighter, and seconds later, the smell of smoke fills the air, mixing with the smell of the after rain. 

You hear his footsteps and then he sits down next to you. Without a word, he offers you the cigarette. You take it, placing it between your lips, you take a drag and blow out the smoke. 

Eddie doesn’t talk, he just wants you to know that he is here because he wants to be, he wants to be your friend but you don’t want to lose him too. 

“I lost a lot of people I cared about, Eddie.. Every single one of them, my parents, Chrissy, Billy.. I almost lost Max and you too,” You trail off, taking another drag before you hand him back the cigarette. “And I can’t lose any more people, Eds.”

He stares at you with his big sad eyes that you can’t bring yourself to look into for longer than two seconds. 

“I feel like I’m fucking cursed or something. Everything that I touch immediately rots. That’s why I just.. I keep pushing you away because I already lost a best friend.. so just please.” 

He sees the way you’re blinking, the way your hands are shaking just like your voice is. He knows what you’re asking of him and he only shakes his head in response, moving closer to you as he feels his own eyes burning. 

You’re his friend, a friend that he doesn’t want to lose either. 

“Nah.. It will take a whole swarm of demobats to rip me away from you. And even then, hey, I will still survive, already did once,” he tries to crack a joke but only makes you tear up even more. 

You finally turn to face him, looking into the kind eyes of your friend before your eyes move down to his neck, to the bandaid that covers his scar. 

“But–”

“No buts. You are not cursed. You are not responsible for anything that happened to those people. It’s okay to feel sad, it’s okay to hurt, it’s okay to love, Darling. Let yourself do it,” he says, smiling as he throws his cigarette on the pavement before he wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer, “and stop pushing me away, please.”

Your bottom lip trembles and the tears flow like a waterfall, you stop fighting it, you stop fighting him and you let him pull you into his arms, closing your eyes as you lay your head on his chest, letting yourself fall into the hug that you so desperately need. 

“Let it out, sweets.”

The soothing tone in his voice makes you cry even harder, your tears seep through his shirt but he doesn’t mind, he rubs your back and holds you. Your heart is crying, your brain is banging, your breaths are cut short thanks to your sobs, but it’s something you needed. And even through all of that, you are feeling so relieved, so light at each sob that rips out of your throat. 

And when you feel Max’s hand in yours, her head on your shoulder as Eddie still holds you, you know that everything will be okay, that you will be okay. You might not need anything else for now… these two people right here are making you feel fuller than you ever felt in the past year.

You won’t lose them. 

You won’t have to live without them. 

They will be more than just a short time. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals:

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @sherrylyn628 @livosssblog

[daycourtofficial]

Laborious anxieties

Eris x Rhysand’s Sister!reader

Summary: based on this request - Eris is riddled with anxiety leading up to your labor, but what happens when some of his worst fears come to fruition?

Author’s note: this is technically a follow-up to A Starfall in Autumn, but could be read as a standalone 🥰 I kinda tore through writing this. I got the request at 7:45 and finished writing at 9:30. Forgive any spelling errors, I have ✨sick brain✨

Warnings: pregnancy, labor, blood loss

The last two weeks of your pregnancy had been a time riddled with anxiety.

You were fine - it was Eris who was unable to stay calm. It felt like a stranger was consuming your mate’s body the way nervousness radiated off of him these days.

And the way he clung to you was very unlike him.

He stepped back from High Lord duties for at least a month, delegating responsibilities amongst his brothers and advisors. He receives a summary of the day’s activities during dinner, and except for a trade agreement his brother signed that was less than advantageous for Autumn, everything was running fine.

Which meant your mate could spend all of his time worrying about you, following you around. He’d gotten so absurd he began having his hounds check you for any abnormalities, doing a ‘daily check’ where they sniffed you to ensure you were okay.

The moment you had told Eris of your pregnancy, his joy was very quickly eclipsed by his very sudden interest in providing you with more security. You had been able to talk him down from the initial twelve guards he wanted trailing you at all times to two guards and at least two of the hounds.

“One hound will stay and defend me, the other one will find you,” you had argued. He relented, but as you got closer and closer to your due date, his attempts at renegotiation were increasing by the day.

You had now agreed to four guards and six hounds with you at all times, unless you were with him.

Between the massive bump on your belly that makes maneuvering around very difficult and the entourage you’d have to take, you opt more often than not to stay in your chambers for most of the day.

One of Autumn’s advisors had suggested the birth be a public spectacle, and Eris grabbed him by the back of his shirt and threw him out of the room, stating, “you’ll be allowed back in when you’ve recovered from your sudden onset stupidity.”

You were glad, because even laboring privately didn’t keep it from being quite the spectacle. Three high lords were to be in Autumn around the birth: your brother, Rhysand, and Eris’s brother, Lucien.

Lucien offered to be available to you in any way he can be, so you took him up on that offer and begged him to take your mate away for an hour or so every day.

So every day at an hour past noon, Lucien would retrieve Eris, and they would play some sporting game they invented when Lucien was a child. They tried explaining it to you, but it never made any sense to you, so you opted to just let them enjoy themselves.

Today, Eris was running through the halls of the Forest House, cursing himself for putting his chambers so deep inside. The house was more fortified the further in you went, with many foxholes that can take you throughout the court. Now it was just a pain to get back to his mate who was definitely not okay.

His fingers made quick work of ruining his hair, a light sweat coating his skin as he flung open the door, preparing for the worst.

Instead, he found his insufferable brother in law opposite you on the bed playing a card game.

“Hi Er,” you say, lighting up at the sight of him, but quickly going back to the cards in your hand, determination in your features.

Clover, the eldest hound and your personal favorite, currently had her head resting against your bump. Her eyes tracked the room, searching for any movement that could be perceived as a threat. Her tail wagged softly at Eris’s entrance, but she remained fixed, guarding your unborn babe.

“Hi Er,” Rhys offers, not glancing up from his cards, “did you run here or do you get winded from these elaborate halls?”

Eris straightens his vest, closing the door behind him as he walks further into the room. “Someone was sending some very distressed signals down the bond.”

He keeps his eyes on you as your face softens, “oops, I was so focused on our game, I didn’t mean to. It’s just not fair because he cheats!”

“I have done no such thing! How dare you accuse a high lord of such a crime?”

You stick your tongue out at him, which he immediately returns. Eris rolls his eyes, well aware of how being around your brother turns the two of you into children. He heads into your private chambers, heading towards the bathroom to bathe.

After bathing and putting on fresh clothes, Eris is about to head back to the two of you, when he hears your soft voice whisper through the door, “I miss mother.”

He’s sure you’re curled up into Rhysand, peering into the violet eyes you both inherited from her. He turns back into the chambers, allowing the two of you to share your grief. As he retreats he does hear, “but I’ll have Eris’s mother. She’s not, y’know, but she’s great. If I can’t have mother, she’s a great stand-in.”

He smiles to himself, finding the book on his bedside table, and settling into the couch, letting the two of you have your privacy.

-

Rhys travels between Autumn and Night every morning and every afternoon, keeping you company during the morning as you become more and more confined to your bedchambers.

You weren’t technically ordered for bedrest, but moving about was incredibly taxing for you, especially when trying to wrangle the large entourage Eris insisted on.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Rhysand happened to be with you when your water broke.

Eris was at court settling a dispute between his idiotic advisors that they insisted required his input when Rhysand’s claws tapped his mind. Upon allowing him entry, he hears Rhysand’s voice trickle in.

It’s time.

-

Your contractions began, slow and unhurried, the cramping abismal. The contractions came quicker and quicker, time between shortening until your nursemaid tells you to start pushing.

You cry out as you do so, an intense pain coming from your pelvis. They tell you to stop, as they check to ensure your dilated enough to continue.

They motion for you to continue, but the pain only gets worse.

“She’s tearing dramatically,” one of the nurses says.

“What does that mean?” Rhys asks, holding your hand.

“Her circulation’s poor, likely because of the bedrest. She’s losing a lot of blood from these tears.”

Eris felt the primal rage of the mating bond heating his blood. They were talking about his mate in such a sterile, clinical way. Eris bared his teeth at them, but they did not back down, they would not back down, even to the commanding presence of multiple high lords.

“I need the two of you to leave, now. I need to focus, and I can’t do that with two high lords breathing down my neck.”

“Everyone here has her best interest at heart - I promise you, high lords, we will do our best for her,” another nursemaid says.

Eris’s eyes are fixed on your pale face, drained of any color. He doesn’t feel Rhys’s arm wrap around him, dragging him out of the room, nor does he feel the wall Rhys presses him against, giving him something to support his weight.

He can’t let that be the last memory he has of your face.

Lucien is in the hall, and Rhys is updating him on how much blood you loss. “Can’t Feyre’s blood heal? Can she come help?”

Eris snaps his eyes up to Rhysand, whose eyes have a vaguely glossy look to them.

“Please, Rhys.”

Eris did not beg. He accepted the hands he was dealt. He did not plead with his father, as the whip would strike his back. He did not plead with the Mother when he had to chase Lucien into Spring. He did not plead with the Cauldron or the stars asking for help.

But he would ask Rhysand.

“She’s on her way, she just has to get someone to care for Nyx.”

“Hel, she can bring Nyx and I can care for him,” Eris offered, reaching out to hold tightly onto that golden string connecting the two of you.

Rhys’s eyebrows raise, but Lucien cuts in, “brother, you are in no state to watch over a young child.”

“Since when have you had any experience with young children?”

Lucien balks, “the children of Spring were quite fond of me.”

Eris smirks, “pity the children of the court you preside over do not feel the same.”

Lucien is about to bite back when Rhys comes back to them.

“Okay, she’ll be here any minute now.”

Eris hated to do it, tampering with the wards of the Forest House to allow any member of your family entry in the past month.

Never has he been so grateful he did something he so staunchly opposed when Feyre appeared in front of them, a cooing Nyx in her arms that she quickly hands off to Lucien. She briefly lets her hand touch Rhys’s shoulder as she nods to Eris before running into the room.

Lucien holds Nyx, the young toddler providing amusement to the three high lords.

“Do you have a name?” Rhys asks, trying to distract Eris from the nervous meltdown he understood all too well.

“For a girl, we like Hestia Seline.”

Rhys’s eyes snap up, but Eris continues.

“Some ancient humans believed in multiple gods, one of which was the goddess of the hearth, Hestia. And Seline for..”

He gestures towards Rhys, letting his sentence finish there.

“You would allow a Vanserra to be named after my mother?”

Eris nods, “if she insisted,” a finger was pointed to the door you lay behind, in what condition Eris had no idea, “I’d let her name a Vanserra ‘Rhys Azriel Vanserra.”

Rhys grins, “but not Cassian?”

“We all must draw lines somewhere, Rhysand.”

Lucien hoists Nyx up into the air, his little wings fluttering, and Eris watches.

“I helped raise all of my brothers,” he states to no one in particular. “It would have been utter carnage if they had wings.”

“And Cassian only makes it worse.”

“Color me surprised. Don’t allow him home alone with Nyx, I’m sure he’ll throw him from your tallest balconies.”

Rhysand breathes through his nose, and Eris knows there’s a great possibility it is something that has already happened.

“What if it’s a boy?” Rhys asks, “you have Hestia Seline.”

“Jasper Camden.”

“Didn’t want another Beron around?” Lucien asks, pushing Nyx into the air on one arm.

“The day I give a child that name is the day I have been possessed.”

The conversation was helping distract Eris, but he kept a tight hold on the bond, ensuring you felt him no matter what.

Eris feels intense pain through the bond, and without thinking, he shoots up off the ground, and opens the door, promptly running into one of the nursemaids.

“High lord, she’s pushing again. The tears were healed, and she’s doing much better. I was just about to get you.”

He comes over to you, holding one of your hands. Feyre was tightly holding your other, holding a damp cloth to your forehead.

“Hello, my love.”

Eris isn’t sure when he started crying, but he knew he was when you smiled back at him, color back to your beautiful face.

“Haven’t you heard? I’m a vampire now- ah!”

You breathe out slowly, and Feyre begins whispering words of encouragement to you.

“But my dear, you love the sun too much.”

You nod as you push, and the nurse tells you you can stop for a moment. You catch your breath, looking towards your mate.

“But I would have really cool fangs. I could taste your blood.”

He strokes the back of your hand, kissing your palm. “Anything you want, my love.”

Your labor continued, much faster now as you held onto Feyre and Eris’s hands, frequently apologizing if you break any fingers.

Eris never got to be around for this part. He was always kept in front of closed doors, anxiously waiting for his next brother, uncertain as to his mother’s state. His anxiety reprieved only hours after the actual labor, when he was allowed to visit his mother and new brother.

Now he was here, the bond thrumming between you two, as he got to hear the first cries of his babe. You almost fall back in exhaustion as your babe slides out, but Eris slides behind you, allowing you to rest against his chest.

He holds your sweaty face in his hands, hair damp, kissing your forehead, telling you how proud of you he was and how incredible you were.

The two of you listen to your babe’s cries as the nursemaid brings the babe to you, placing them on your chest.

Every exhalation is accompanied by a wailing too large for the small body as they breathe air into their lungs for the first time.

Eris places a hand on the babe’s back, hoping they’ll remember his touch from the womb. The babe was covered in birth, but Eris didn’t care. He knew being around for this part was a privilege he had never been afforded before.

He kisses your head again, as the nursemaid smiles at the two of you.

“It’s a boy.”

[megalony]

A Bad Night

This is an Evan Buckley imagine, requested by a lovely anon. I hope you will all like it, feedback always makes my day.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: Evan always looks after (Y/n) when she has seizures, but when she has continuous seizures during the night that won't stop, he has to call an ambulance.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A soft grin appeared on Evan's lips as he kicked off his trousers and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it into the hamper as he approached the end of the bed.

He crawled up the middle of the bed, waiting until he saw (Y/n)'s eyes begin to flutter open before he slumped down on top of her over the covers. He felt her huff even though he tried to keep some of his weight on his forearms that he pressed down into the bed either side of (Y/n)'s shoulders.

His face tucked into the crook of her neck and he pressed his lips against her skin, reaching out to bite down just to hear her gasp into his hair.

"Did you have fun?" (Y/n) murmured quietly, not bothering to open her eyes while she groggily lifted her arms and looped them around Evan's neck. She pressed her lips into his hair and breathed in his skin, happy he was finally home.

"Hm, missed you though. You good?"

Evan had gone over to Hen's place for tea along with Eddie and Chimney and they had a games night. Not a lot of drinking for a change because both Chimney and Evan were on shift tomorrow for a double shift, but they still had a good night.

The only thing that upset Evan was (Y/n) not coming along. She'd had two absent seizures today which made her feel sick and gave her a constant headache. She didn't feel well enough to go out but she would never want to stop Evan from going to have some fun and let off steam with his colleagues.

"Still got a headache; I'm glad you're home." (Y/n) could feel the headache burning behind her eyes. She had come to bed early and had to turn the tv off when it only made her feel worse.

Evan had messaged her at least four or fives times every hour. He needed to make sure she was okay and made her promise that if she had another seizure, she would tell him so he could come home. But he was satisfied that she hadn't and had gone to bed to try and sleep away her headache.

"Me too." He leaned up on his arms and lifted his head so he could capture her lips in a kiss. He tilted his head to the left and looked across at his space of the bed which was currently occupied. "Dexter, shift up."

Evan ruffled Dexter's ear and gave the dog a nudge until he took the hint. The labrador stretched out before he circled round and hopped off the bed.

It was like a silent agreement between Evan and the dog. If Evan was out or at work, Dexter could be in his space on the bed and lie with (Y/n) and snuggle up and stay close. But if Evan was home, it was his space to be next to his wife and Dexter would sleep on his bed that was at the end of (Y/n)'s side of the bed.

He was a service dog.

With (Y/n)'s epilepsy and Evan's demanding job, they got Dexter so if (Y/n) went out, she wasn't technically alone. He would alert her up to an hour before a seizure was about to happen, he would stay beside her and protect her and alert help if it was needed.

Evan pecked (Y/n)'s lips again before he slowly rolled onto his side and wormed his way under the cover. A grin found its way onto his face again when (Y/n) instantly shuffled over into his side.

Her head moved to rest on his shoulder and she tightly bound her arm over his torso, pulling him into her chest like he was a lifesize teddy bear. He hooked his arm over her shoulders and took to gliding his hand up and down her arm while he kissed the top of her head.

He took a deep breath and tried to close his eyes and shut down his mind. He needed some sleep. He was at work at ten in the morning and it was a double shift which meant he wouldn't be home until the next morning.

Usually when Evan had long shifts and (Y/n) didn't want to be home alone, she would go and spend the day with Bobby, Athena or May or even Maddie. With Bobby being her dad, it meant (Y/n) had a big support network so she didn't have to be alone if she didn't want to be. And Maddie was now the sister she'd never had and was always willing to go out with her or stay in and have a movie day if she felt like having some company.

"Night baby."

Evan wasn't sure what woke him.

He took a deep breath, then another deeper one when he felt that familiar weight on his chest signalling his wife was still flopped across him. It was comforting to have (Y/n) laid on top of him and Evan didn't sleep as well if (Y/n) wasn't as close as she was now.

He could feel her head tucked up beneath his chin, his left arm draped around her waist and his right arm hanging off the side of the bed.

But his mind started to go on red alert when he realised why he was awake. Dexter was barking. He felt a cold, wet nose brushing against his hand before Dexter let out a low growl and then another bark.

(Y/n) was going to have a seizure.

"Fuck. Alright boy, shh I'm awake it's okay." Evan scratched the back of Dexter's ear and gave him a gentle nudge to try and settle him. He knew as long as he alerted Evan, he didn't have to sit and bark continuously or try to move (Y/n).

It was Evan's job to look after her when he was home.

He stretched his hand out and turned the bedside lamp on before his arms curled around (Y/n). One hand cupped the back of her neck and the other curled around her waist before he slowly rolled them over so (Y/n) was laid on her back.

"Baby… baby wake up for me." His hand cupped the side of (Y/n)'s face and he leaned his weight on his left arm as he leaned over her.

A quiet murmur passed (Y/n)'s lips but she didn't move. Evan couldn't tell whether she had started to wake up or whether she went straight into a seizure.

All he knew was that she didn't manage to open her eyes or respond to him. A steady trembling set in her system and Evan moved to sit up instead of lean over her. He swiped the pillow from beneath her head and chucked it to the floor before he threw the cover off them both so it didn't get tangled around her limbs.

"Alright baby, shh. Keep breathing, you're good, I've got you." Evan kept his words steady and calm as he moved his hand back to cup her neck and check her pulse. Evan knew most of her recent seizures hadn't lasted long, two minutes was the usual mark for the last few months.

He tried to smile down at her and he kissed her forehead while he continued to smooth his thumb across her cheek. Her pulse was steady and right now, she was only shaking back and forth on the bed. But Evan could feel her muscles tensing up and he knew she was going to go into a tonic clonic seizure soon.

A few seconds later, Evan leaned back just before (Y/n)'s arm lashed out and clocked him in the chest.

He sat up in the middle of the bed and crossed his legs beneath him before he grabbed his phone and set it beside his leg. He swiped through and found his stopwatch and clicked it on. This was the easiest way to check how long she seized for.

"Good girl, you're doing so good."

Evan bit down on his lower lip and rubbed a hand across his jaw as he watched his wife.

Her head pressed back into the mattress, pushing her trachea out as her upper chest lifted up off the bed and her shoulders bashed down into the bed. Her legs started to thrash more violently into the bed and while her left hand curled back and slammed down into the bed, her right hand moved near Evan.

He reached over and carefully moved her hand so her arm was resting over his thighs. He let her arm smash down into his thighs while he rubbed his hand up and down her arm to let her know he was still here with her.

Evan rested his chin on his free hand and kept glancing his eyes over to his phone. He didn't like this. The timer was ticking away and (Y/n) wasn't showing any signs of stopping. She was thrashing, shaking and taking very short breaths through clenched teeth as her jaw was now locked tight.

His fingers tightened around (Y/n)'s arm when her head tilted to the side and her thrashing suddenly escalated. He watched in horror as her left arm jerked out into the side table and her legs were almost bashing into her stomach before they slammed down into the bed.

The sudden movements made Evan jolt back on the bed and when he heard Dexter begin to whine and brush his nose against (Y/n)'s arm, he knew this was only going to get worse.

"Okay baby girl, I need to move you."

He carefully slid a hand beneath her neck and his other held her hip so he could slowly rotate her onto her left side with her back facing his chest. He had to get her in the recovery position because she was going to hurt herself and he wouldn't put it past her to start throwing up.

His held her waist and he leaned over her with his chest inches away from her arm. He was desperate to lay down and hold her against his chest and kiss her and tell her she was okay but he couldn't. The most he could do was keep her head tilted down and prevent her from choking or falling off the bed.

"Fuck, sweetheart you're really starting to scare me now, I don't like this." Evan could feel the panic bubbling away in his chest when he looked down at his phone.

Three minutes, thirty-five seconds.

"No- no baby oh God come here! Hey, I got you, it's alright."

Jumping forward, Evan slammed his chest into (Y/n)'s back and hooked his right arm around her middle just before she slid off the bed. Her legs thrashed out so much they went over the side and the rest of her body started to follow until Evan grabbed her. He pulled her backwards until she was laid awkwardly in the middle of the bed.

But she wasn't stopping. Her breathing wasn't great. Her limbs were flying about and she was so tense she felt like an elastic band about to snap.

Four minutes, twenty-two seconds.

"Baby I gotta get us some help this ain't good."

He briefly let go of (Y/n) so he could grab his phone before his hand moved straight back to cradling her neck and his other hand delicately smoothed up and down her side. Her legs were jerking and flailing back and forth and she had one arm pinned to her chest while the other was hanging over the side of the bed thrashing like she was being electrocuted.

"Alright baby, you're okay I'm here. I'm gonna take care of you I promise." He leaned down and kissed her shoulder while he dialled an all too familiar number.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"This is firefighter Buckley from the 118 LAFD. I need an ambulance to Hillside Court apartment four-B. My wife's having a seizure."

"Okay, what's her name? Is she prone to seizures, or is this her first?"

"(Y/n) Buckley. She's epileptic, but she hasn't had one this bad in months… Jesus, I've not had to call an ambulance for her like this in over a year." The last time Evan had to call an ambulance was when they were engaged. And they had been married for almost two years now.

He had taken (Y/n) to hospital after a day of full on seizures that continued throughout the day. He'd taken her when she seized and bashed her head into the coffee table. And he'd taken her when she seized, came back round and couldn't move her limbs for over an hour.

But Evan hadn't called an ambulance for her in years. He hadn't seen (Y/n) have a proper spasming seizure lasting this long in ages.

"Is she still seizing?"

"Yes, we're up to the five minute mark now, I'm timing it on my phone. I can't- I- fuck, hold on. We're in the bedroom, I'm gonna have to move her to the floor she's falling off the bed."

Evan couldn't keep holding her like this. She was moving near the end of the bed again and she was starting to moan and murmur. She was somewhat conscious and aware and he couldn't pin her down to the bed. The safest thing would be for him to get her onto the floor.

"Sir I'd advise you not to move her please, it's very dangerous-"

"Did you not hear me? I'm LAFD trained, I can take care of my fucking wife! I'm not asking for your advice I'm asking for a fucking medic because I need her in the hospital."

Evan wasn't asking her what to do and he wasn't waiting around for her advice. The moment Evan started dating (Y/n), he got up to date on his training. He learned how to look after her, how to properly move her in this situation and how to hold her and not restrain her.

He took courses to be able to give (Y/n) emergency meds if she was in a bad seizure, but Evan didn't have those up here. The emergency meds were downstairs in the meds cupboard and he doubted they would even be in date, it had been that long since they had to use them.

"Okay… is she on the floor now? How's her breathing?"

Evan put his phone on (Y/n)'s bedside table before he carefully slumped onto the floor and eased (Y/n) down with him. Once she was on the floor by Dexter's bed, he moved her onto her side again and and held her head so it was tilted forward.

"Yep, she's got very rapid breathing… okay, okay she's slowing down now, it might be stopping."

"That's good, the medics are one minute away."

Reaching down, Evan slowly brushed (Y/n)'s hair back behind her ear so it wasn't covering her face and his hand started to rub up and down her arm. The thrashing started to cease and she reduced to trembles and rattling against the carpet.

Dexter laid out beside her with his chin on her juttering ankle while Evan doubled over and kissed her temple, trying to keep her still and calm. He could hear the small mumbling noises leaving her lips but he couldn't work out what she was trying to say, or if she was trying to talk at all. She might just be letting him know that she could hear him.

"I'm just gonna open the door." Evan clicked his finger and pointed for Dexter to take his place in front of (Y/n). This was his moment to go and open the front door while (Y/n) had finally stopped thrashing and was shivering instead.

He grabbed his trousers from the floor and hooked his shirt over his head while he stumbled down the stairs and opened the front door. He flicked all the lights on as he passed so the apartment was lit up for Dexter. He wasn't taking Dexter down to the hospital with him, he could stay home and try to sleep until Evan and (Y/n) came back.

Evan yanked his trousers up over his hips and did up his belt before he bolted back up the stairs and looked around for his shoes.

"Sir, the medics are on their way up to you now."

"Thank you." Evan ended the call and paused the timer before he crashed back down to his knees beside (Y/n). "Baby… baby are you back with me?" His thumb smoothed across her cheek and he carefully lifted her head to rest on his thighs instead. He kept her laid on her side and began gliding his hands up and down her arms to give her some comfort and something to focus on.

He heard the front door open and voices float through but Evan didn't bother to respond. His focus was on (Y/n) when her head tilted as far back as it could go on his lap until the back of her head was almost touching her shoulder blades.

Dexter howled. A low, deep grumble in the back of his throat as he moved to sit up straight and began flapping his paw against (Y/n)'s thigh.

"No… no baby not again… oh no," Evan could feel his lips falling into a frown and tears burned in the corners of his eyes when (Y/n)'s arms began pushing into her chest and her hands bent backwards.

She had barely come out of the last one for a minute. How could she go straight back into another this quickly?

"Sir, paramedics. How are we doing up here?"

Two paramedics made their way up the stairs and into the bedroom, a gurney between them with a medical bag resting on top. They left the gurney near the end of the bed and hurried to kneel down beside Evan who clicked his finger to get Dexter to move back. The obedient labrador moved to sit right behind Evan near the bedside table, still able to observe but not be any hinderance.

"The first one lasted over five minutes, she's just gone straight back into another. This isn't normal for her." Evan hadn't known (Y/n) to go into two violent seizures so quickly together. She usually had a few minutes in between when she was having a bad night like this.

He kept his hand rubbing up and down (Y/n)'s arm as the lady beside him listened to her heartbeat and the other medic knelt beside (Y/n)'s legs and tried to keep them out straight.

"Have you given her any emergency meds? What does she usually take?"

"I haven't given her anything… she takes thirty milligrams of these twice a day." Evan reached into the bedside drawer and found (Y/n)'s medication. She had one tablet in the morning and one in the evening and it worked on calming down her seizures.

When Evan first met her she was having four or five a week. Now her meds and her routines were controlled, she was barely having one a week. Usually she suffered with absent seizures and the odd clonic seizure every now and then.

He clocked the woman reaching for a blood pressure cuff and he moved his hands down to hold (Y/n)'s arm and wrist out to make it a bit easier. Her arm continued to thrash up and down but Evan tried to keep her arm near his thigh.

"BP's sky-high and breathing is laboured, pushing diazepam."

Evan kept hold of (Y/n)'s arm and gripped a bit firmer so one of the medic's could quickly inject the diazepam into her arm just below her shoulder. They needed to try and get the seizure to stop so they could get her down the stairs safely and into the ambulance.

"Good girl, there we go." Relief poured through Evan's body and trickled into his voice as he leaned down and smothered his lips against the top of (Y/n)'s head on his thighs.

One of the medics moved towards the gurney and wheeled it over but they could see Evan wasn't exactly going to sit back and let them do this. He helped them ease (Y/n) over onto the gurney and while they adjusted the level, Evan grabbed his phone and his wallet and put them in his back pocket.

He watched them lift (Y/n)'s eyelid and try to shine the light across her eyes, but they had rolled to the back of her head. All they could see were the whites of her eyes and it made Evan feel sick.

"Be good, I'll be back soon," He ruffled Dexter's ear and kissed the top of his head before he followed after the gurney. He knew Dexter would be fine, after a little while he would settle to being on his own and sleep, most probably in the middle of the bed since they weren't here.

He followed close behind them and locked the door on the way out, but once they got in the lift, he felt a small flicker of hope. Her jaw still seemed to be locked, but the murmur she let out was clearly Evan's name.

He watched the way (Y/n) flopped her head to the right and nudged her nose against the gurney like she wanted to try and hide away and disappear. But both her arms started to shake when she tried to move them. Her elbows were pressed very tightly into her waist and her hands were glued against the middle of her chest. She couldn't move them no matter how hard she tried. But it didn't matter, Evan reached down and curled his hand around hers, smoothing his thumb over the back of her hand.

"I'm still here, sweetheart. I'm here."

"(Y/n), are you in any pain?" The medic stood at the head of the gurney leaned over and carefully peeled back (Y/n)'s eyelid and shined the light across her pupils. But Evan saw the way they didn't react. Her pupil stayed blown wide, it didn't constrict at all.

She couldn't speak. All (Y/n) could do was make a noise close to a cry and her arms shuddered against her chest. Her whole middle and torso were aching like she had been beaten up. It felt like someone had smashed their fists all over her chest and down her stomach.

Evan kept hold of (Y/n)'s hand as they exited the lift, but everyone stopped when she screamed. It was a muffled sound, vibrating against her dry lips and it made her throat rattle.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Evan crouched down in front of her and moved his free hand to cup her chin, swiping his thumb across her jaw to try and coax her to look at him. But her eyes stayed tightly closed and she started to tense up. "Baby?"

He dragged his eyes up and down (Y/n)'s frame as she managed to clench her fingers around his hand. She was shaking again. Both legs were shaking and bashing down into the gurney and her upper chest was moving up and down, but she was still conscious. She was crying and breathing harshly through clenched teeth and she was squeezing Evan's hand.

"She's having another one." Evan found his phone from his pocket and started the stopwatch again.

They continued walking out the lobby and made their way towards the ambulance. They had to get to the hospital now.

Evan sat down opposite the gurney and gently pulled (Y/n)'s hand so he could press it against his lips and glide his other hand up and down her arm. He hated to see her cry and he hated how she was shaking and thrashing like this. It was even worse to know she was still awake and could feel and understand everything that was happening.

"Shit!" Evan groaned and slammed his eyes closed when (Y/n) suddenly yanked on his hand.

Her arm reeled back to her chest and the force pulled Evan from his seat and sent him down on his knees in front of the gurney with his elbow bashing into the frame which made his body shudder. He felt the way she bent her arm to slam both her and his arm against her chest while her other arm was pressed down on her abdomen.

Evan slowly pushed himself up to his feet and groaned, rolling his shoulders back into place but when he looked down at (Y/n), he couldn't help but feel the urge to cry.

"She's biting her tongue." Leaning over, he moved his free hand to (Y/n)'s jaw and pressed his thumb between her lips so he could peel back her lip and look into her mouth. She wasn't choking on her tongue, thankfully, but her jaw was locked and her teeth were pierced down so tightly she was biting through it.

Blood coated her teeth like tomato juice and foamed past her lips, beginnign to dribble down her chin.

Evan held the back of her neck while the other medic carefully held her waist and tilted her onto her left side, facing Evan. They couldn't risk her choking or throwing up.

"I can't push another dose of diazepam, I'm going to give her a sedative, it's the best shot at making the seizure activity stop."

Evan nodded. He couldn't refuse that or object. It was their only option. Pushing more anti-seizure meds could just force (Y/n) into an overdose when she had already taken her usual dose of medication and an emergency dose when the medics arrived. Sedating her would put her mind to sleep and hopefully stop the nerves from sending these signals.

She couldn't keep going in an out of seizures like this, it was causing her too much distress and she was hurting herself.

"Alright baby, shh it'll be over soon." He slumped back down to his seat and gave in trying to move his arm. He let it stay pinned against (Y/n)'s chest while the medic placed an oxygen mask over her mouth and injected the sedative into her shoulder.

Once her body stilled, Evan stopped his stopwatch on his phone and eased his arm from (Y/n)'s grip. At least with her now motionless, the medic could take her blood pressure again and check her vitals and start her on some fluids without risking her arm bashing into him.

When the ambulance came to a stop, Evan stood up and moved to lean over the gurney. He held his left hand over the back of (Y/n)'s neck and his right hand gripped her forearms and kept them in place against her chest. They couldn't strap her down to the gurney because she was hurt and she had been seizing and Evan wasn't risking her choking.

Both medics eased the gurney out and Evan walked alongside as they went in through the ambulance entrance. Bypassing the waiting room and straight into a vacant cubicle a doctor waved them over to.

With a doctor and a nurse beside the bed, Evan moved to stand on the other side. He didn't want to be in the way but he wasn't going to sit back and be parted from (Y/n) either. He stepped forward once she was transferred onto the bed and it was hard for Evan to refrain himself and hold back when all he wanted to do was reach out and look after (Y/n) himself.

"How long was the seizure activity?" The doctor looked across at Evan before he wheeled a trolley over and rummaged around.

He round a clamp and carefully wiggled (Y/n)'s jaw open so he could press the tongue clamp over her tongue and against her throat. It was to pin her tongue down safely so she didn't choke as she might to especially with her tongue swelling up.

Blood continued to dribble down her mouth and chin while the nurse tried to wash it away and spray her tongue.

They placed an oxygen mask around her nose and mouth again and placed a monitoring clip on her finger.

"It hasn't stopped for nearly twenty minutes. The first one was over five minutes straight."

"She's been sedated?"

"Just now." Evan folded one arm across his chest while he brought his other hand to his face and bit down on his thumb. If the diazepam hadn't done anything, he wasn't so sure a sedative would work either.

"I'd like to put her under general anaesthetic. It will allow her brain to calm down and we can take her for an MRI and then get her admitted onto a ward."

"Okay." It sounded like a good idea. It would ensure that (Y/n) didn't have any more seizures and it would let her brain calm down as her mind must be frazzled by now. It also meant that they could get her on a new IV with anti-seizure meds straight into her vein, some painkillers and she could have as many scans as she needed without the risk of another seizure.

"I'll go get the anaesthesiologist down here."

As soon as the doctor walked out the room, leaving the nurse to tend to (Y/n), Evan slumped down into the chair beside the bed. He fumbled in his pocket for his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found his father in law.

He needed to let Bobby know what was going on and where they were. Evan would need some support because he was going to be here for a while now and he knew (Y/n) wouldn't be happy to be in hospital when she finally came around.

"Buck… it's four in the morning, is everything okay?"

"Hey Bobby, I, fuck we've had a bad night. It's (Y/n)."

He could almost hear Bobby switching into his fatherly mode. Something that only happened when (Y/n) was around or if Evan was hurt. He could hear Bobby moving around the bedroom already as if he was getting dressed without knowing what was happening.

"Why, has she had a bad seizure?"

"It wouldn't stop, she barely came out of a five-minute one and went right into another two. I had to call the paramedics out… they had to sedate her, it, it just wouldn't fucking stop. We're at the hospital and the doctor's putting her under anaesthetic. Can you come down?"

"We're on our way."

***

Opening his eyes, Evan sighed and stretched his arms out above his head. He felt his shoulders clicking along with his neck as he straightened out and tried to loosen the tension from his muscles.

He dropped his legs down from the bed and sat up straighter in his chair when a quiet knock on the door broke through their comfortable silence.

Bobby was sat on the other side of the bed, his chin tilted down into his chest with his right arm crossed over his chest and his left hand holding (Y/n)'s. Next to him, Athena was sat with her head on his shoulder and her bag held to her chest like it was a teddy bear.

They had come down as soon as Evan called and had waited with him while (Y/n) went for an MRI and had bloods taken. Evan guessed it had to be some strong anaesthetic they put her under because she had stayed out for the count which is what they wanted.

"Hi… is this mum and dad?" The doctor glanced over at Bobby and Athena before looking back to Evan who nodded with a warm smile. "Well, the MRI looks good, no abnormalities, a little inflamed but that's expected. And bloods have come back clear."

"When will she wake up?"

"She's been under for nearly five hours now, I think it's safe for me to wake her up now and we can monitor her progress. She's been put on her usual medication through the IV to make sure we can subdue the activity quicker. Let's have a go at waking her, shall we?"

At least (Y/n) had gotten a few hours of sleep and rest.

Evan had taken the liberty of lifting up her gown when Bobby and Athena first fell asleep. He didn't like what he saw. Bruises littered (Y/n)'s chest and around her ribs. She had bruised her left wrist from bashing it on the side table and he knew she was going to be sore as anything when she woke up.

Getting up from his chair, Evan stretched again before he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed. He gently took (Y/n)'s free hand and held it on his lap while Bobby and Athena inched their chairs closer.

They watched intently as the doctor got a needle ready and injected the medication into (Y/n)'s IV.

Evan glided his fingers up and down (Y/n)'s arm and smiled softly when he watched her head tilt to the side and nuzzle into the pillow. She looked just like she was waking up at home rather than after a bad night in the hospital emergency room.

"Hey baby, how you feeling?"

He watched the beginning of a smile form on (Y/n)'s lips before her eyes rolled and came into focus. It was clear the moment she took in her surroundings because her lips fell down into a gaping frown and her lower lip wobbled.

"Evan, w-…where are we?" Her hand tightened around his but her body jumped when she suddenly realised there was someone gripping her other hand as well. She dared to look across to the right and took a sharp breath. "Dad?"

"Hi sweetheart."

She couldn't help the tears that started to fall down her face. Where were they? What were they all doing? Why had she gone to sleep safe and sound with Evan at home and woken up somewhere completely different?

"I'll give you all some space." The doctor nodded at the monitors, happy that all (Y/n)'s vitals seemed fine and she had come around perfectly well which was a relief. He jotted down his notes and headed out the room so they could have a moment to themselves and calm (Y/n) down. She didn't need a stranger in the room spectating and observing.

"Baby, you had a really bad night. I had to call an ambulance, we had to sedate you, the seizures wouldn't stop. You don't remember?" Evan was a little surprised (Y/n) couldn't remember even a small flicker of the night. She had woken up shortly after the first seizure, and she tried to say his name after the second one.

She had been awake when the next one started, she cried out and clung to him and tried to open her eyes in the ambulance. She was conscious until they sedated her. The sedation and all the meds must have knocked her back and blurred the night for her.

"You, you came home, and went to bed… I- I don't…"

(Y/n) remembered having a rough day. She remembered Evan going out to hang with Hen and Chimney for a few hours and she remembered him climbing on top of her when he came home. But she couldn't recall anything after falling asleep with him. It was like the events had played out but her mind forgot to press record.

"It's alright honey, you've had a rough night. Probably best you don't remember it." Athena patted (Y/n)'s thigh and smiled at her. It might be a blessing that (Y/n) didn't remember. She didn't need to recall everything she had gone through last night, it wouldn't do her any favours.

"What time is it?"

"Almost nine in the morning, you weren't out for too long." Bobby looked down at his watch before he squeezed (Y/n)'s hand and smiled.

After Evan's phone call this morning, Bobby had been in a rush. He had to call the shift lead at the station and inform them that neither he or Evan would be on shift today. He told them to ring round and see who could come in and cover, but under no circumstances could they contact Evan.

He would sort Evan's hours and his time off so he could go back as soon as (Y/n) was well enough.

Bobby thought they would be sat here for a few more hours before (Y/n) woke up and he had been worried how she would be when she woke up. He remembered when she first got diagnosed not long after their apartment fire. He was forever bringing (Y/n) down to the hospital and back then, each time she woke up, another fit of seizures happened.

"I th-" (Y/n) cut herself off with a sharp cry when she tried to lean forward. Her eyes locked with Evan as she let go of her dad's hand to grip her side, but touching her chest only made her whimper. "Oww, oh it hurts." Her eyes snapped closed and she sniffed, trying to take a deep breath but her chest felt like it had been put through a blender.

She tugged on Evan's hand until he leaned forward and gently looped his arms beneath hers. She gripped both his shoulders and let him sit her up while Bobby moved the bed so she could sit up instead of lie down.

"You battered your chest a lot, baby. It's gonna be sore for a while."

(Y/n) hooked a finger in the hem of the hospital gown she was wearing and looked down before she whimpered.

"It's okay, you're alright now." Evan kissed her temple and wove an arm around her waist when she leaned forward. He let her tuck her face into the crook of his neck and curve her arms around his chest so she could mesh herself up into his chest.

"I wanna go home."

"Not yet, sweetheart. You're under twenty-four hour observation to make sure you don't have another fit of seizures. We can take you home tomorrow." Bobby ran his hand up and down (Y/n)'s back and kissed the back of her head.

She had to stay here for a while yet so they could make sure she wasn't going to suffer another bout of dramatic, long endured seizures. Once they had cleared her and she was fit to go home, they could take her back and they would all look after her.

"We'll get you home tomorrow baby and we'll look after you."

[cherry-holmes]

REGRET

Part 1

(Javier Peña x F!Reader)

Credits of the gif on the image.

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Finding out you’re pregnant create a split between you and Javier. He soon will discover that one can regret they own words.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word count: +3k

Warnings: Writer prefer to not give details to prevent spoilers. Read under your own responsibility.

A/N: Hello👋��� This is a little something that came to my mind when a saw this gifs last week🧍🏻‍♀️ Let me know in comments if you like it👀

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Javier and you have been dating for a year and a half now. It started as something casual. You were just neighbors, then you used to talk about the weather when you crossed paths in the building. Then, he invited you for a drink, and you ended up in his bed.

He told you he was a DEA agent, and you talked about your community service as an English teacher in Bogotá.

Javier was funny and charming. He always treated you like a princess and fucked you like a slut. He was attentive, but he worked a lot. You never seriously talked about what exactly you were, but you spent much more time at his place than yours. He hadn't given you a key, precisely, but he told you he had a copy on top of his door so you could enter when you arrive and he was still at work. He picked you up from the school, and you cut his hair when needed.

Life had been busy, and you never really stopped to ask him if your relationship had a label. The truth is, neither of you had actually stopped and asked each other what would come next when he caught Escobar and/or you finished your community service.

You never thought about it, until that damn morning.

"Fuck."

It can't be happening. Two lines on a pregnancy test were the last thing you needed. You looked at it for a long, long time, trying to process what was going on. You wanted a blood test to confirm, but there's a reason why you already took a pee test. Morning sickness and a delay in your period activated the alarms. You hadn't told Javier anything yet, but it was only a matter of time now.

That afternoon you went to the laboratory, and by noon you received a phone call confirming the results. You were, indeed, very pregnant. After you hung up the phone, you cried a lot. How were you going to tell Javi? What would you do with your job? What were you going to tell your parents? Did you really want to have it... him/her?

You felt the urgency to make a decision in that very moment. Javier was going to ask you when you told him, and you knew he hated the "I don't know."

It took you one, two, three hours, and you had an answer. You knew it was the right one because you thought it would take you a lot longer to decide. But when your heart landed in the same place over and over so quickly, you simply knew it.

Javier came home late at night, but earlier than usual. He looked tired and pissed, and he let his weight fall on the kitchen chair to devour what you had made for dinner. You looked at him the entire time, and the nervousness in your chest made it impossible to eat anything. You wanted to tell him. You couldn't contain the news any longer.

"Javi," you began. He didn't look at you for more than a second before his sleepy eyes fell on his plate again. "I have something to tell you. It's very important."

"What is it, babe?" he asked, his voice slurred.

"I..." You fought the lump in your throat, encouraging yourself to tell him. "I'm pregnant."

Until that moment, you didn't know what you expected. You didn't imagine him crying with emotion and jumping around the apartment, screaming to the four winds that he was going to be a dad. But you didn't imagine what his real reaction would be, either.

Javier didn't even look at you. He dropped his fork, leaned back in his chair, and passed his hands over his face. It wasn't a surprised, emotional reaction. He was pissed. He was cursing the situation.

You didn't say anything as you felt your heart and soul sink into your stomach. Disappointment washed over you as you saw his reaction. You tried to think of something else to say, but you went blank.

"We can't," he finally said, really looking at you for the first time that night.

"What do you mean we can't?" your voice was only a whisper.

He looked at you like you were crazy. "You're not seriously thinking about having it."

Your mouth went dry, but tears welled up in your eyes. "Well... I do."

Javier's face hardened. "It's not safe, not with what I do, not with Escobar still out there."

"We can figure this out together," you said, your voice quivering. "I-I know this country is dangerous and this is probably not the right time, but is already happening and I..."

"Are you sure you're...?" he began. It hurt you the fact that he couldn't even say it.

You stood up and reached for your purse. He saw you as you placed both the pee and the blood test in front of him.

"Puta madre." Javier stood up, pacing the kitchen. "Did you take the pills?" he demanded.

You nodded. "I do. But they're not a hundred percent effective."

He ran his fingers through his hair in an almost desperate gesture. "I can't do this. Parenting is not on my plans, and you know it."

"I didn't want this to happen either, Javier, and I'm sorry," you said, trying not to cry. "But you need to people to make a baby. So, we have to figure this out together."

"Don't complicate things more," he added. He made his way to the living room, pacing like a caged animal. "Think about the consequences. I can't risk my focus on this job for this."

Tears streamed down your face. "So, what? You want me to get rid of it?"

"I think it's the best option for both of us."

After a long, cold moment of silence, you shook your head, stepping back. "I can't believe you."

He sighed heavily, looking away. "You don't understand... it's too dangerous."

"I don't care," you cried. "I'm gonna have this baby. With or without you."

He sighed. He saw the determination on you. Now he needed to make a decision, since you're not going to change yours.

"Ok," he said finally. "It will happen, but you need to go back to the States."

"No," you sentenced. Javier couldn't believe your stubbornness. "I'm not going to leave, either. I can't leave the school. Those kids need my help."

He was doing his best to not completely lost his patience and say something (more) that he could – and will – regret.

"I can't concentrate on my job and take care of a pregnant woman," he sentenced, adding your name at the end in a way you had never heard before.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. "Well, then don't worry about me. I can handle this on my own."

Javier stared at you, his eyes dark with frustration. He thought of his parents. They didn't raise a man who shirks responsibility, one who doesn't own the consequences of his actions.

For a long moment, the only sound was the ticking of the clock on the kitchen wall. Finally, Javier sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"No," he said. "If that's what you want, fine. You'll have my financial support, but that's all. As soon as you finish your community service, you'll go back home. I'll send you money, that's it."

"I don't want anything from you, Javier. Not if you're not going to do it with real love," you whispered, heartbroken.

Javier's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. He turned away, staring at the wall, his hands clenched into fists.

He looked down, unable to meet your gaze. "I never saw myself as a dad. I don't think I ever will," he admitted. "That's all I can offer. I'm sorry it's not what you expected. I'm sorry I can't be the man you need."

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Days turned into weeks, and your relationship with Javier seemed to be stuck in a constant struggle of awkward interactions and avoiding each other. He started working even later, and sometimes he didn't even spend the night at the apartment. He came back the next morning smelling like whiskey and cigarettes. When he did sleep at home, he took the couch while you slept on his bed. When you woke up in the morning, he wasn't there.

Both of you finally reached an agreement. You recognized that you needed his help, and he was aware that he had to be responsible for the situation. You moved in with Javier so you wouldn't have to waste money paying rent. Moreover, you would return to the US when you were seven months pregnant. He would conclude his duty in Colombia however long it took. Neither of you wanted to talk about what would happen then.

Your belly was now thirteen weeks along. Soon, Javier found his place filled with baby stuff. Every day he discovered something new you had bought: tiny clothes, maternity clothing, maternity books. His bathroom smelled like the body cream you used to apply on your belly, and there was a list of pregnancy-friendly foods hung on the refrigerator. He could tell you were putting your heart into preparing for the baby, and at times he felt guilty for not being able to find his own paternal instinct.

On the contrary, you were caught in a fragile rhythm. He continued his dangerous work, and you dedicated yourself to your work at school.

Nights were still lonely, but at least you had your baby. You talked and sang to them. You applied anti-stretch mark creams to your belly, and read everything about babies and labor. You were excited to meet your baby boy or girl, but sadly, at the same time, you felt heartbroken because you loved Javier, and you wished he was more present during the process. However, you had to accept that it wasn't mutual. He didn't love you; he never truly did and probably never would. He just liked to fuck. You should have known it before. Maybe you did, but you were so in love with him that you thought you could change him. Either way, it was too late now.

Javier gave you more money than you needed to cover everything you needed. He never said no when you told him you needed medicine, to pay for a doctor's appointment, or special food that didn't provoke nausea.

But he never went to those appointments with you. He never asked how they went, either. He never showed any interest in the progress of your pregnancy. It was as if he had completely detached himself from the situation, leaving you to navigate the journey alone.

Or at least, that was how you saw it. The truth was, Javier was having a difficult time processing the fact that he would be a father. He had never seen himself getting married, let alone having children.

Furthermore, there was something terrifying about having a baby in Colombia during the war he was fighting. He had witnessed men fall, leaving widows and orphans behind.

He realized that he was more scared of leaving you and his child alone in this chaotic and unfair world if something happened to him. Or worse, he feared that you have to pay for his sins and mistakes. He couldn't bear the thought of that, and he often had nightmares about losing you both.

He didn't know how to express his feelings for you. He couldn't let himself relax and just settle into the nest with you.

One of those nights, when he decided to come home earlier after work, he found you sleeping in bed. You had an open book beside you on a page about what to expect during the second trimester. You had fallen asleep in an awkward position, so he had to gently wake you up to help you move into a more comfortable one. You mumbled in your sleep, calling his name softly and sweetly. Javier felt warmth in his chest, a need to cuddle with you, touch your belly for the first time, and hold you and the baby close.

But he just couldn't do it. He didn't know why, but he couldn't. He limited himself to tucking you in with a warm blanket and opening the window for fresh air, as you liked it. He went to the kitchen, filled a glass with water, and put it on your nightstand because he knew you got thirsty in the middle of the night.

Javier observed you for a moment, peacefully sleeping, carrying his baby. He missed your soft lips and your fingers in his hair. He missed making you laugh and talking to you about each other's days. And now, he longed to make things right and try to win your heart back.

Tomorrow, he said. Turning down the lights, he went to his place on the couch.

But tomorrow was too late.

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He left early in the morning to attend an emergency meeting at the Embassy. Steve spend all morning complaining about Messina and the tie-and-suit motherfuckers, but Javier's thoughts were on you.

He was lost on his own thoughts, trying to find the right words to tell you. He was still scared, but he was determined to try. To make it work.

He was on his desk, a report on his hands but he wasn't reading it, when his landline rang.

"Peña," he picked up.

"Is this Javier?" a woman's voice asked urgently.

"Who's this?"

"This is María from the school," she said. He immediately knew something was wrong. He barely remembered María, you had presented each other last year on your birthday.

"There's been an emergency," she continued explaining, anguish filling her voice. "She's been taken to the hospital."

Javier's heart dropped. "Is she okay?"

"She collapsed in class. They think it might be related to her pregnancy. You need to get to the hospital as soon as you can."

Javier didn't waste a second. He grabbed his jacket and bolted out of the Embassy, ignoring Steve's confused shouts. The drive to the hospital was a blur, his mind racing with fear.

What happened? You were fine last night... Didn't you? He felt a pang of guilt. What if you didn't felt well but you didn't say anything because you thought he would be mad? Fuck... He should be more available for you. You should trust him.

When he finally arrived at the hospital, he rushed to the reception desk, asking for your name. The nurse nodded and directed him to the emergency room. His heart pounded as he approached the doors, dread settling in his stomach.

He found you lying on a hospital bed, pale and hooked up to monitors. The doctor was speaking to a nurse nearby. Javier's throat tightened as he stepped closer.

The doctor noticed him and approached. "Are you related?"

"Yes, how is she?" Javier asked, his voice shaky.

The doctor sighed. "I'm sorry to inform you, but she lost the baby. There was nothing we could do. It was a miscarriage."

Javier felt like the ground had been ripped out from under him. He looked at your unconscious form, tears welling up in his eyes. "Can I see her?"

"Of course, but she's sleeping right now," the doctor said gently. "She's stable now, but you had to sedate her. This has been very traumatic for her."

Javier nodded and moved to your bedside. He took your hand in his, feeling the weight of his own failures crashing down on him. He had failed to protect you, to be there when you needed him the most.

Hours passed as he sat by your side, holding your hand and watching you sleep. When you finally stirred and opened your eyes, he was there. His eyes were teary, reddened from his contained emotions.

"Hey," he whispered, placing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm here," he said, squeezing your hand. "I'm so sorry. I should have been there. I should have done more."

You closed your eyes, tears slipping down your cheeks. "I lost my baby." Your voice was barely a whisper, little sobs escaping your lips. You were still in a haze of sedatives and mourning.

Javier nodded, his heart breaking at the pain in your voice. "I know. I'm so, so sorry."

"No, you don't," you said, hurt and anger painting your weak voice. "You didn't want my baby."

"I was scared," he confessed, his voice cracking. "I didn't know how to handle any of this. But I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted to lose our baby."

You shook your head, tears streaming like rivers down your cheeks. The gaze you gave him was filled with anger and resentment, piercing through his chest.

"Fuck you," you cried.

Javier flinched as if you had struck him. He looked away, unable to bear the intensity of your anger and sorrow.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice barely audible.

"You never be there for us, so don't come and say you're sorry," your words melted into an unstoppable crying. You felt like if your heart would literally broke into a million pieces. Grief and exhaustion weighing heavily on you, you felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness.

"I know I can't make this right. I know I failed you. But please, let me be here for you now," he pleaded, but there was nothing he could say to soothe your unbearable pain.

"You're a piece of shit, Javier," you spat, your voice trembling with anger and grief. "I don't want to see you ever again."

You turned away from him, your tears flowing freely.

He lingered for a moment, hoping for some sign of forgiveness, but when none came, he slowly left the room, closing the door behind him.

He stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall, feeling the crushing weight of his failures. He had lost not only his child but also the trust and love of the woman who meant more to him than he had ever admitted.

Part 2

[earthtooz]

x : I KNOW I LOVE YOU ! :*+ﾟ all or nothing, i want all of you!:

aka moments that the bllk boys knew they loved you ! ╰┈➤ with nagi, itoshi rin, and reo mikage !

warnings: gn!reader, no pronouns, mentions of food in all three, swearing in rin's + he's kind of mean but like that's just who he is and i don't want to fix him for it <3, fluff for all 3, sickness in nagi's, i think that's all the warnings, lmk otherwise!

a/n: last fic of 2022, i gasped when i saw that photo of beomgyu BYEEEE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH tumblr deserves to see him!!! reblogs appreciated :( the ratio of reblogs to likes is so sad sometimes so pls, if you enjoyed this fic, pls take the time to reblog - no matter how small or big ur blog is!!! rblgs is the best way to motivate ur favourite writers + help their works circulate around this site so always pls consider reblogging!

NAGI SEISHIRO: knew he loved you when you took care of him when he was sick.

nagi stirs awake with a groan, immediately engulfed by an insufferable warmth that caused him to kick the covers off his body.

as he shuffles to get comfortable again, he registers sounds coming from his kitchen, something he doesn't bother to investigate because he's hit by the dryness of his throat. glancing to his bedside table, there sat a glass of water that was practically calling his name, an offer he couldn't resist as he downed the drink in four seconds.

he then cringes at the stinging of his head.

so the headache still hasn't passed. what a pain.

he wants to go back to bed, to give in to the comfiness of his pillow and return to dreamland where his head wouldn't kill him. but, with the clanging and sizzling coming from the kitchen, it wouldn't hurt to check out what was happening, right?

dawdling out of bed, he slowly but surely makes his way to his door, opening it quietly before heading out into the kitchen, where you stood by the stove.

you were dancing to your playlist that was faintly playing in the background whilst tending to the pans on the stove top. one had eggs and spam, the other was boiling some instant noodles.

what were you doing here?

he's shortly flooded by recollections of what happened hours prior. nagi had invited you over to spend the day with him at his apartment but minutes before you arrived, he felt light-headed and dizzy. when he opened the door for you, he practically collapsed in your arms, and that was where the memory ended.

the fact that you stayed rather than simply going home to let him take care of himself warmed nagi, filling him with a feeling that he forgot long ago.

something like comfort.

"oh my god!" you exclaim, placing a hand to your chest at the sudden sight of a 6'3 man looming at the entrance of the kitchen. "sei, don't do that!"

turning off the fire, you quickly make your way to him, placing the back of your hand against his forehead.

it's still a little warm. he thought he just had a headache, did he have a fever? is that why he collapsed?

he should be grateful that he's not him taking care of himself.

"how do you feel?" you ask, brushing his hair back from his skin. he pouts slightly, leaning into your touch.

"my head is killing me," he murmurs, about to slouch on to you when you abruptly step away to fish for something in a plastic bag on the counter.

at the lack of your touch, he groans to protest, but you show him a small box you bought. painkillers.

did you go out and buy him stuff whilst he was asleep? just how good are you? what did he do to deserve you?

"take two pills and i'll prepare your food for you," you tell him before grabbing a bowl, a plate and chopsticks. nagi simply watches as you plate the goods, his stomach aching for your food whilst you sprinkle some nori over his ramen. the fried spam and eggs smelled divine.

soon enough, you sit him down at his two-person dining table before ambling away to clean up.

he misses you even more when he takes a bite of his food. nagi hasn’t had anyone take care of him in so long, not in the way that mattered at least. sure, he wouldn’t trade the world for reo and all he gives him, and he's thankful to his parents for the funds they've given him, but you take care of him because you want to. there’s no ‘dream’ you’re gaining using him as an asset, everything you've done, you've done for him to feel better.

and when nagi combines all the ingredients together in one bite, he’s filled with the love that homemade food provides, even if its just instant ramen with a little more nutrients. 

it’s more delicious than his ‘win’ yoghurts could ever be and nagi can’t go back now.

when you return, the white-haired beams at you as you take a seat beside him, your chin leaning into your palm as you brush a hand through his tangled locks. 

“how are you feeling, sei?” you question softly.

“amazing.” he says before digging back in. 

his eagerness causes a small laugh to slip and nagi perks up at the delightful sound, watching the way your nose crinkles and your lips part. then, he grabs some noodles and offers them to you, a gift you gladly take, humming at the taste. he does the same for the egg and spam and as he watches you with adoration in his eyes, he can't help but be overfilled with love.

“thank you,” mutters nagi.

“you’re welcome. now eat up and feel better, genius.” 

his words of gratitude have far deeper meaning than you realise, but nagi has a while to show you just how thankful he was for you.

ITOSHI RIN: knew he loved you when your company was something he didn't get tired of.

at 10 am, there’s a knock on the door to rin’s apartment.

he’s knows who it is before even greeting said person, and when your smiling face appears on the other side of the door, rin can’t help the excitement bubbling in his chest, signified through the small smile he tries to fight down.

“hi rin,” you greet, stepping forward to press a kiss against his cheek. that smile of his widens. 

“hello.” 

the dark-haired opens his arms expectantly and you drop three hoodies on them, all of them were his and freshly washed. he rolls his eyes.

“i wanted a hug,” scoffed rin.

“oh,” you laughed before throwing your arms around his torso, staying there like that for a few moments before separating. “anyhow, i should probably get going. i’ll see you-”

“why aren’t you staying?” he asks, coming off as more of a demand.

“because we didn’t plan for it?” 

“you should stay and watch a movie.” 

“aww does rinnie not have anything else to do?” you say with a mocking tone, but it’s all lighthearted and fun, especially when he pulls you in his apartment and locks the door behind you.

“shut up. go pick a movie.”

approximately ten minutes later, you’re curled up on the couch with rin lying over your body, peacefully splayed with his chest resting on your sternum whilst you absentmindedly play with his hair, too engaged in the movie. 

rin, on the other hand, didn’t find any enjoyment in your choice at all. “why the fuck are we watching ‘it’?” he asked, shuffling a little, causing you to stifle a giggle due to his movements. 

you shrug. “it just popped up. thought you liked horror movies.”

“horror movies that aren’t shit.” 

“touché. now shut up, i want to watch.” 

he grumbles something before relaxing into you again, more focused on the sound of your heartbeat than the events of the movie. eventually, the even beats lulls him into a light slumber, fast asleep despite the way it sometimes speeds in anticipation.

you, on the other hand, realise that he’s fallen asleep due to the slight wheezes he lets out, not loud enough to border a snore, but not peaceful enough to simply be breathing.

when the movie finishes, you shake him lightly to stir him from his sleep and when you meet his slightly hazy gaze, you feel a little bad for waking him. 

“the movie’s done, i should get going now,” you mutter, setting your hands on his shoulders as to push him off, but as soon as you announce your plans of leaving, rin holds on even tighter to your body. “hey! get off!” you try your best to push him away despite your laughter that ripples through the air.

“you should stay for lunch,” suggests your boyfriend, who rests his chin on your sternum. his eyes were practically pleading for you to agree, shining with hope.

he’s lucky you have nothing to do today, and that you were hungry.

when you roll your eyes and put your hands up in mock surrender, rin can’t help but smile a little, giddy at the idea of being able to spend more time with you.

hold on- since when was he happy at the idea of spending more time with anyone?

“shall we eat here or out?” you asked, your hands resuming threading through rin’s hair again. it was so smooth, what did he use in it? smelt nice too. 

“here. too lazy.”

after a few minutes of deciding what to eat, the delivery showed up rather quickly at his apartment. when you both settled down to eat, rin couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander, unable to help but think about how nice it was to be in your company and simply exist. he wants to do this for the rest of his life. 

you seem to have other plans. 

“so,” you begin, plate now empty. “i’m probably going to head home now-”

“wait, what? no.”

“no?” 

“i paid for lunch, you should repay me by keeping me company.”

with a huff, you cross your arms. “okay mr athlete’s salary, i’ll transfer you-”

“-can’t you just stay a little longer?”

“ask nicely.”

“can’t you please just stay a little longer?”

“if you insist,” you sigh dramatically, batting your eyelashes at him jokingly. rin scoffs. “what do you want to do?”

you actually ended up doing nothing for the next few hours, simply scrolling on your phone whilst laid on rin’s lap. he’s resorted to watching some past recorded matches, sometimes of himself, sometimes of other notable soccer athletes. 

the sun was now beginning to set and having been here since 10 am, you were beginning to feel bored out of your mind. 

you were also beginning to feel as if you were burdening rin with your company so, with a yawn, you begin to sit up. the athlete pauses his video and looks at you curiously. 

“i should get going now,” you say, rubbing your eyes.

“what?”

“i said i should get going now,” you repeat.

“no, no, i heard you the first time,” he mutters, a little bite in his tone. “why?”

“cause we’re not doing anything? plus i’m bored out of my mind and need some fresh air.” 

“then we can get fresh air together, you don’t have to leave yet.”

“you’re real insistent on keeping me here, guess you just like me too much, huh?”

rin leans in closer to your shit-eating grin, placing a hand on your cheek to press a fleeting kiss to your lips, one that leaves you wanting more. 

then you find yourself on the rooftop of his apartment complex, one that overlooks the beautiful horizon of tokyo and leaves you breathless as you gaze over the beautiful sight of the sunset colours bleeding together. with itoshi rin by your side, it feels even better.

leaning on his shoulder, you were not aware that your boyfriend’s eyes were admiring you instead of the sunset before you. he takes his time breathing the sight of you in, how beautiful you look with the hues of orange painting your skin. 

it’s funny. rin feels so purposeful with you, like he was made to be by your side and nowhere else.

maybe he should ask you to move in.

MIKAGE REO: knew he loved you when you cared about him, not his image.

he's not used to this, the feeling of being adored for who he was rather than what he was. you don't like him because he's rich, that he was a spawn of a billionaire, you don't like him because he's a talented soccer player either. you like him because he's funny, unique, generous, and despite his self-centred upbringing, ironically selfless in his own way.

the trained smile and behaviour that reo plasters on every morning crumbles whenever he's around you.

he greets you at the park you agreed to meet up at and you return his wave with a smile, pulling your scarf down from your mouth where you were attempting to warm yourself from the cold.

"hi," you mumble, dancing a little from side to side to shake the jitters of the cold away.

"hi, i didn't keep you waiting too long, did i?" he asks.

you shake your head. "no, i just forgot some extra layers. i thought my gloves were in this coat too but i must have been mistaken."

reo frowns at your ice-bitten demeanour, feeling a sudden urge to wrap you up, give you all his warmth and shield you from the winter weather.

"anyways," your voice breaks his thoughts. "have you eaten yet?"

he widens his eyes a little in shock, taken aback by your question, one clearly asked out of care and affection. you were the one freezing your ass off due to your own negligence yet you had the nerve to ask if he had taken care of himself.

instead of asking about the latest product mikage corporations released- a news segment that was taking the business world by storm, you ask reo if he had eaten.

strange. he feels strange. it's nice.

"no, not since breakfast," he coughs after his mouth had caught up to his mind.

you tug at his arm gently, "then c'mon, there's a nearby 7/11. i hope they have sweet potato, we can get two for the both of us!"

the purple-haired can't fight the smile that tugs on the corners of his mouth, obliging happily with your requests as he allows you to pull him in the direction of the store. before you could leave the park, however, reo skids to a stop, dragging you back to him.

ignoring your curious gaze, he nimbly goes to take the wool gloves off of his hands. when one is off, he swiftly grabs your wrist to thread your fingers through the fabric, all whilst you actively ignore how warm reo's hands are and how soft they are when they encompass your wrist. his fingertips leave trials of fire burning on your skin but you don't jump back from the sensation. instead, you let it happen.

his gloves are a tad bit too big for your hands, but you feel warm immediately. whether that's a direct result of the gloves or not, you don't really want to know.

"this okay?" asks reo, gaze meeting yours. you try to trick yourself into believing that the softness of his expression was because of the wind, and that the snow was playing tricks on your eyes.

swallowing thickly, you nod. "won't you be cold?"

he wriggles his fingers slightly before shrugging.

with a small chuckle, you grab his bare ones and bundle them together with yours, a weak attempt at sharing warmth.

but, reo appreciates it nevertheless, smiling at how focused you seemed to be when caring for him.

[pedrilcvr]

Heyyyy oh my gosh I love your work so much, I was wondering if I could request a Pedri where he forgets about his plans with her and she was always understanding but with this being the fifth time, she’s over it and confronts him? Angst please!

All I ever asked — Pedri Gonzalez.

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Fem!Reader

Summary: He was late. For the fifth time that month. You’d waited in the restaurant for an hour and a half, coming up with flimsy excuses as to why your boyfriend hadn’t arrived, come to find out, he was sitting at home. The whole time. You’d had enough. Arriving home exhausted and upset, you can’t help but ask the question you’d been wondering for a while. “Do you even care?”

Disclaimer/s: angst to comfort , but thats pretty much it! oh and lots of cursing..

A/N: men (forehead slap)

Leaving the restaurant, you felt embarrassed. Humiliated, even. The waitress had given you the most pitiful look as you excused yourself, leaving her a tip and apologizing profusely.

You’d finally gotten home exhausted and angry. Your heels had dug themselves into your feet, leaving a throbbing ache even as you took them off. Holding them by the tips of your fingers, you trudged your way to your bedroom.

Opening the door, your eyes land on Pedri, who was sitting comfortably in bed on his phone. Was this a sick joke?

“Hey baby—“ his voice trails off, eyes scanning your outfit curiously, “where were you?”

You scoff. This had to be a joke. “Oh, just at the restaurant, waiting for you. Because, well! We had a fucking date tonight.”

Pedri’s smile falls instantly, “oh fuck.” He mumbles, throwing the comforter off him as he moves to stand, but you raise a hand, stopping him. “Shit, i’m sorry—“

“Save your fucking apologies, Pedro.” You snap, tossing your heels off to the side before opening the closet to fish out some pajamas. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this. Like seriously, five times in one month? Are you actually fucking kidding me.” You begin rambling off, angrily shuffling through the drawers.

Letting out an anger filled noise, you slam the drawer shut. You’d forgotten today was laundry day, so your favorite pajamas, the ones you’d been dying to change into the whole ride home, were in the washer.

Pedri watches nervously as you angrily look through the closet. He’d been so busy lately, every date you’d reminded him off, had slipped his mind. There was no excuse, he knew it. And you’d been so understanding, but tonight he knew he really fucked up.

“And! To make it worse, do you fucking know what day it is? How special of a date this is supposed to be?” You whip around, pointing a finger at him.

Your anniversary.

Pedri groans inwardly. He was such an idiot. “I’m sorry, I don’t how it slipped my mind—“

“Our anniversary, ‘slipped your mind?’” You make air quotes around it, your eyes rolling. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Eyebrows furrowing, Pedri stands from the bed. “Hey—that’s..” but he stops. He knew you’d need your space, but kicking him out of bed? Seriously?

“That’s what? What Pedro.” Your jaw tightens, using his full name just to show how pissed off you really were.

“Stop calling me that,” he sighs, taking a few steps toward you, “i’ll make it up to you.”

“Good fucking luck.” You laugh, although it’s full of spite, not humor. “You’re a real fucking dick, you know that? Four dates, and our anniversary. All forgotten. For why? I get you are busy, but am I seriously that forgettable? Do you even care?”

You seemed to have struck a nerve, because Pedri’s face hardens. “You know you aren’t, and you know I do. I—“ he closes his eyes, running a hand over it, “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sorry, i’m sorry.”

Your lips purse and you grab a T-shirt off the rack, “whatever. I’m tired, I need to shower, and I want to go to bed. We will talk tomorrow.” You laugh, “oh, unless you forget about that too.”

Pedri says your name, almost hisses it. “I know you’re upset, but seriously? I’m trying here. It’s been a busy month, and I know that’s no excuse—but can we just talk about this like adults?”

Eyes widening, your face contorts, eye twitching. “You are such a—a man! You—“ Your voice cracks, but you suck in a long breath. You will not cry. “All I ever asked of you this whole month, is that you take me on a date.”

Pedri’s face softens and he takes the final few steps toward you, pulling you close to his chest with one hand on your lower back, the other holding your head near his heart. “I’m sorry, i’m being a dick—I am a dick.” He murmurs, placing light kisses to the top of your head.

“I love you.” He sighs out, “I love you. I—“

“I fucking get it.” You huff, eyes closing as you listen intently to his heart beat, the soft, rhythmic thumping calming you down. “You owe me big time.”

“Whatever you want, it’s yours.” He smiles, hands coming up to hold your face, “anything you want, i’ll give you. Just know, I am sorry.”

You pout, nodding. “Let’s start with you switching the loads while I shower, you’re on laundry duty for the next two months. And dishes, and cooking, and—“

“Got it! I got it!” Pedri chuckles, leaning down to place a small kiss to your lips, “i,” peck, “love,” peck, “you.” peck.

You try not to smile, you try to stay mad, you deserved to be mad. But you fail. Your cheeks pressing into Pedri’s callused palms with how wide you were smiling. “You make it so hard to be upset.”

He hums, kissing your forehead. “Good for me, honestly.”

“Whatever, i’m still pissed off. You’re lucky I love you.” You grumble, arms wrapping tightly around his waist.

“The luckiest man alive.” He agrees, squeezing you thightly. “So..” He really shouldn’t push this right now.. but he has to ask, “do I still have to sleep on the couch tonight?”

“Oh, well, yes! You’re not getting out of this unpunished.” You pull away, bopping his nose with your finger before skipping toward the bathroom.

DTS , @halfwayhearted !

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part six)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)

Steve allows himself a brief mental breakdown in the shower when he gets home. He lets the water mix with his tears as he curls his arms around himself and wishes with everything he is that they were Eddie’s. There’s nothing he wouldn’t give right now just to be held by him again, just to feel Eddie’s arms around him one more time. All it took was a tiny kiss on the back of his hand for Steve’s skin to remember just how much it missed that feeling. Now Steve’s entire body craves Eddie’s touch, and he shakes in its absence like an addict in withdrawal. 

Then he puts himself back together, gets dressed and styles his hair and heads off to work. 

They’d defeated Vecna before he could split the world into pieces or whatever his diabolical plan had been. So while Steve’s whole world may have been torn apart, while Steve’s whole world lays bruised and bandaged and amnesic in a hospital bed, the rest of the world carries on none the wiser. The rest of the world still rents VHS tapes and has movie nights and date nights and no fucking clue that they were seconds away from being dragged down into a hell dimension a couple weeks ago, so Family Video is still open for them. Fuck that. 

“You’ve gotta handle the customers today because if someone starts asking me stupid questions I can’t promise I won’t snap at them,” Steve tells Robin as he drives them to their shift. 

“Aw, but it’s so funny when you snap at them,” Robin quips. 

“Robin.” He gives her his best I’m so fucking serious look. 

Her humor dries up immediately and she nods solemnly. “Alright, yeah. I got it.” 

Steve sighs, pulling into the parking lot. “Thank you.” 

He busies himself with cataloging and reshelving and rewinding returns while Robin takes over the customer service part of the job. It’s mindless - mind-numbing - the monotony of the tasks exactly what Steve needs to dull out the thoughts in his brain and distract himself from the way the back of his hand still tingles from Eddie’s kiss. 

When the afternoon rush dies down after a few hours and the store is all but empty, Robin sidles up next to him where he’s putting away a stack of fantasy films. “Hey.” 

Her voice cuts through his focus and nearly startles Steve out of his skin. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” 

“Sorry.” She grabs half the stack of tapes and starts helping him shelve. “Just wanted to check in with you, we haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk today. How are things going with Eddie?” 

“It’s fine. He’s fine,” Steve grumbles, glaring down at the tape in his hands. It’s got a dragon on the cover. He thinks Eddie would probably like it. “He still doesn’t remember me, but he’s starting to see me as a friend now at least, so.” Steve shoves the movie into its spot on the shelf. “That’s something, right?” 

Robin raises her eyebrows at the sharp bitterness in his tone and how forcefully he put the tape away. “Okay. Yeah. So I see we’re in the anger stage of grief now,” she comments. 

Steve scoffs. If this is a stage of grief, he thinks he’s been going through them in the wrong order, or maybe all at once - a neverending ebb and flow of denial and anger and depression all swirled together into one fucked up cocktail of grief. “I’m not angry,” he says, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m just tired- emotionally burnt out, I don’t know. I just miss him and it’s not fair and I’m so fucking sick of feeling like this.” 

“Yeah, that’s anger, Steve,” Robin says, infuriatingly blunt. She slides the last tape in her stack into its place and then leans against the shelf. “Did something else happen to set this off, or are you just generally overwhelmed?” 

Steve sags against the shelf beside her. “Both. I don’t know. It’s stupid, it’s so fucking stupid. He just- he kissed my hand this morning, that’s it, and it wrecked me.” 

“He what?” Robin questions, curiosity widening her eyes. 

“He kissed my hand,” Steve repeats. He sighs and adds context, gives her a full recount of the events of that morning.

“Oh my god?!” Robin practically squawks as she backhands Steve’s arm, which is definitely not the comforting words or touch he needs from her right now. 

“Ow!” he yelps, rubbing his arm. “What the hell was that for?” 

“Dude. He was flirting with you,” she tells him, eyes even wider now like she’s trying to explain to him something obvious. 

“What? No.” Steve shakes his head, looking at her like she’s crazy. “He definitely wasn’t.” 

“Ughhh,” Robin lets out a long, dramatic groan, dragging her hands down her cheeks and pulling down her eyes. “I cannot do this with you two again. He totally was.” She drops her hands from her face so she can use them to illustrate her point as she starts to lists off, “First of all, he literally called you daddy-” 

“As a joke,” Steve interrupts to protest. 

“Yeah, a flirtatious one,” Robin retorts. She continues, “Then he said you have a magic touch, and then his heart literally started racing for no reason-”

“Because I was stressing him out!” 

“Only after his heart rate went up in the first place, which, as I was saying, was for no reason other than the fact that you were smiling at him and holding his hand-” 

“That literally doesn’t-” 

“And then, he kissed your hand - pressed his lips to your skin - and told you that you were his good luck charm,” Robin finishes, looking smug like she’s said something novel and not just completely reiterated exactly what Steve had just told her only with more emphasis. 

He sighs wearily. “Your point?” 

“He likes you, dingus,” she says, whacking his arm again. “Don’t you get it? His mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.”

Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. A lump rises in his throat, a rush of jumbled emotions chafing against his already frayed edges. “Don’t say that. You don’t know that.”

“I think you should tell him what you were to each other,” Robin suggests. 

“Right, yeah, okay, sure,” Steve scoffs, somewhere between sarcastic and hysterical. “And while we’re at it, I think you should tell Vickie that you like her. Because telling people things like that is so easy, isn’t it?” 

Robin gives him a withering stare. “That is not the same thing at all, and you know it.”

“No, yeah, you’re right,” he agrees. “Because I know Eddie, and he would not take that news well. He already gets a little weird whenever I seem to know too much about him - if I tell him I know him biblically too-” 

“Ew, don’t tell him like that!” 

“Doesn’t matter if I tell him like that; I say we’ve been together for 9 months, he’s going to assume we’ve-” 

“God, okay, I get it!”

“See? It would freak him out,” Steve concludes, crossing his arms. “Even if he does…like me again or whatever, he definitely wouldn’t anymore and it would just generally make him uncomfortable. So I can’t tell him. I just have to keep waiting for him to remember on his own, even though it’s fucking killing me,” he says, his voice harsh as he tries to keep it from breaking. “It’s what’s best for Eddie.” 

“Steve-” Robin starts, frowning like she’s only just beginning to realize she may have pushed him too far, but whatever it is she was going to say is cut off by the ringing of the bell that announces the front door being open. 

“Customers.” Steve points his chin towards the couple who just walked in, a bitter jealousy boiling in his stomach as he watches them walk hand in hand towards the romance aisle. It’s not fucking fair. He shoves himself away from the shelves and mutters, “I’m taking my break.”

He stalks to the breakroom, closes the door, and sinks to the floor with his back against it. The tears in his eyes feel like they’re made of acid, like they would carve tracks into his skin if they were to spill down his cheeks. He wraps his arms around himself again. The thoughts in his head are made of acid too, bitter and burning and cursing everyone who gets to enjoy their lover's touch while he suffers without his. 

Steve’s brain feels corroded, corrupted. “He likes you,” Robin’s words echo there too, “his mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.” Would Eddie touch him now if he asked? Would he trace his fingers across Steve’s skin, kiss more than just the back of his hand? Steve digs his own fingers into his sides. He feels gross, he feels rotten. It wouldn’t be right to ask that of Eddie without him knowing the truth, to take advantage of him like that. It wouldn’t be the same, anyways. The superficial touch of a boy with the beginnings of a crush is not the tender lover’s caress that Steve craves. 

That is if Robin is even right about Eddie redeveloping feelings. Which she probably isn’t.

Steve’s just being stupid and selfish again. He wants to remove his brain from his skull so he can stop thinking, tear his heart from his chest so he can stop feeling; both so burned and decayed he thinks if he held them in his hands they would dissolve and crumble to dust and ash and sludge between his fingers. 

Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve forces himself to be fine. He peels himself off the breakroom floor and returns to work, continues the tedious tasks that he hopes will numb him out again. 

Robin catches his eye from across the room where she’s sorting a customer’s cash at the register. I’m sorry, her expression says, I didn’t mean to make you upset. 

Steve gives a tiny shake of his head and a small smile. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault, his own expression reassures her. You meant well. I’m not mad at you. 

They don’t talk about Eddie again that day. The next time there’s a lull in customers and they’re able to chat again, Steve tells Robin he honestly just needs a distraction right now, and he lets her ramble on about Vickie and band and school and her impending graduation and the movie she watched last night and whatever other random thoughts are bouncing around that hyperactive head of hers. Her voice fills in the cracks in Steve’s brain, keeps it from falling apart completely. She’s always been good at that, and he’s grateful for it. 

Then he drops Robin off after work and he drives away alone in silence because all the songs on the radio are love songs, and he drives back to the hospital - back to the source of his grief again and again like some sort of fucking masochist - because Eddie needs him. Because Steve loves him.

~

Eddie cannot help the way his face all but beams the second Steve walks back into his room that evening. “There you are, Stevie! How was work?”

Steve returns the smile, genuine, but there’s a tiredness to it. “It was alright. Bit boring, really, uneventful. How are you doing?” 

“I’m good,” Eddie says, adding with a jaunty grin, “All the better now that you’re back.” 

It comes out a bit more flirtatious than he intended, but thankfully Steve just laughs it off. “Alright, smoothtalker,” he scoffs through a chuckle as he takes his usual seat by the bed. “It’s nice to see you again too.”

“Oh, the actual doctor came in to talk to me today. Good news, don’t worry,” Eddie tells him, the last bit tacked on quickly before that concerned crease can appear between Steve’s brows. “She says I’m healing up nicely, and I might be able to be discharged soon. A few more days’ observation and then they're gonna see how well I can actually move since, you know, the bats chewed through half the muscles in one of my legs. But, yeah, I could be out of here by the end of next week.” 

“That’s great, Eddie!” Steve brightens. 

“Yeah.” Eddie smiles. “I can’t wait to be somewhere familiar, feel normal again. Or, well,” he amends, smile falling a little as he realizes, “as normal as I can feel given that I’ll probably be walking with a limp for the rest of my life and be covered in nasty scars all over.” 

A strange expression crosses Steve’s face then, something happy and sad and sympathetic all at once, and his voice is soft as he says, “We’ll match.” 

Eddie blinks at him. “What?”

“The scars,” Steve clarifies. “The bats got me too, you know. I was lucky, it wasn’t as bad for me as it was for you, but, uh- yeah, we’ll match. See?” He stands and pulls his shirt up a bit. 

Eddie’s heart rate immediately kicks up again, blood growing warm, as his eyes snap to Steve’s stomach, to skin and muscle and body hair and- oh. Two giant, jagged red scabs cover Steve’s sides, the edges fading into skin bumpy and pink and white with the beginnings of scarring. The bite on Eddie’s own side twinges in sympathy. “That’s-” He swallows back the word hot, and breathes out instead, “Holy shit.” Without really thinking, he finds himself reaching out to skim his fingers over the ridges of Steve’s scars. 

Steve gasps - full body shudders - at the touch, and Eddie instantly pulls his hand back, afraid he’s hurt him. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“No, it’s fine,” Steve manages, though it sounds a bit shaky. “You didn’t hurt me, I just- I wasn’t expecting it.” 

Eddie tentatively starts to reach back out; Steve nods. He slowly traces the outline of the wound again, every uneven edge, feeling the evidence of hurt and the evidence of healing and the ripple of each breath Steve takes - breaths that echo in the quiet that falls between them. Eddie doesn’t realize just how intimate this silence has become as he runs his hands across Steve’s skin, until he glances up to find Steve just…watching him. It’s impossible to tell exactly what emotion is behind his eyes, but it’s intense and it’s devastating, and Eddie suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. 

“Uh-” A nervous laugh stutters out of him. He rescinds his touch. “Twin scars, huh?” he remarks, cracking a crooked smile and attempting to change this strange, suffocating energy with a joke. “Hell of a matching tattoo. Next time let’s just exchange friendship bracelets like normal people do, yeah?”

Steve huffs, a short burst of laughter that escapes from his chest like it’s been punched out of him. “Since when have you ever done anything like a normal person?” he teases in return as he pulls his shirt back down.

Just like that, blown away by Steve’s playful smile, the weird tension lifts. Eddie grins back. “Alright, fair point.” He adds, “Those are gonna be some pretty metal scars, Stevie.”

“Not as metal as yours,” Steve says warmly, settling back in his chair and kicking one leg over the other. “You’re the one that literally survived death, Ed. It doesn’t get any more metal than that.” 

“Now who’s the smoothtalker?” Eddie smirks, and he hopes he isn’t blushing. Steve Harrington calling him metal with so much pride and affection in his voice is doing numbers on his heart. Curse this stupid fucking crush.

Steve eyes divert briefly to the heart monitor, which has not once calmed down since the second he’d lifted up his shirt, and Eddie is so sure that he knows then, that he’s finally made the connection between what’s got Eddie’s heart racing, but he doesn’t say anything, just laughs it off again, smiling like everything’s completely normal as he looks back at Eddie and rolls his eyes and mutters in return, “Shut up.” 

“Make me,” Eddie mumbles, not quick enough to bite back the words before they fall from his mouth, only managing to lower his voice enough that maybe Steve didn’t hear him. 

“What?” 

“TV?” Eddie grabs the remote, pretends like that’s what he’d said in the first place. Real smooth. 

“Oh, sure.” Steve shrugs. If he noticed Eddie’s slip, he gives no indication of it. 

Eddie turns on the TV and they spend the next hour or so laughing and making fun of the bad acting on the show that’s playing. Easy, normal, platonic. Eddie’s heart rate stabilizes, remaining even so long as he doesn’t look too long at Steve’s smile. 

When sleep starts lapping at Eddie’s consciousness, he doesn’t fear it anymore. Silently, he holds out his hand, and Steve takes it, wrapping him in the warmth and protection that allows Eddie to let himself drift off undaunted. 

And in his dreams his hands skate across Steve’s skin again.

(part seven)

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