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feelbokkie · 6 months

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One Last Dance | Chapter 11

pairing: Minho x fem reader

genre: smau, crack, angst, fluff, non!idol au, major character death (I am apologizing now), friends to lovers, soul mates, first love, roommates

pov: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

warnings: swearing, mention of food, mention of sex

summary: Childhood best friends Lee Minho and L/n Y/n are in their final year of university. While both of them are in love with each other, the only thing keeping them apart is Minho’s fear of change. As both dancers prepare for their lives after college, will Minho finally let fear rule him and his emotions or will he finally gain courage before he loses Y/n forever?

word count: 3,301

screenshot count: 19

taglist: closed!

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You toss your phone aside and quietly groan at the "almost stepdad" comment. You lean your head against the back of the couch and pinch the bridge of your nose, anticipating the headache you’re going to get from Minho when he finally reads it. Be has no reason to get jealous over it, but knowing him, he might anyway.

Truth be told, you have no idea where your relationship stands with Minho after your beach trip. You slept together, a boundary you weren’t expecting to ever cross with him after he rejected you last year. And you were fine with that. As long as he was in your life, you were okay with that. But almost dying made something click for you. And it must have made something click for him too because, why else would he sleep with you?

You both care so deeply for each other, and that’s why your relationship works so well. You push each other to be the best versions of yourself. You probably wouldn’t be half the dancer you are today if you didn’t have Minho pushing you when you were younger. You’ve always been there for each other. Like when your parents asked him to escort you to your first date just so you wouldn’t have to walk to the meeting place alone. He did it begrudgingly. And when your date inevitably stood you up, he came and told you that he wanted to see the movie too so the two of you should just go together and get something to eat after. And then he promptly got suspended the next school day for finding the upperclassman who stood you up and breaking his nose.

And you'd do similar things for him, even though it never felt like you did anything of equal value to his favors for you. Favors, because that's what they felt like before you realized you liked him. Like when you practically lived with him for a month back in high school because you have always been better at school than him. His parents threatened to pull him out of taekwondo, martial arts, and dance if his grades didn't improve. After school activities that he did with you. So you made sure to go home with him every day, some days bringing him home with you, so you two could study together. You complain about how codependent Minho is, but maybe you're just as dependent on him as he is on you.

You can't think of a single day of your life where Minho wasn't there. You've been together since birth, literally. Minho's mother went into labor and for some reason, your mother did too even though she wasn't due to give birth for another month or so. It was almost as if you said, "Wait, me too!" While you were in the NICU, Minho was right there next to you, suffering from his own health issues. Despite the severity of your conditions, the two of you were discharged the same day. Your parents often talk about how much you and Minho used to cry when you were infants and how the only way to get you two to stop was to put you together. Even for college, the two of you ended up applying to all the same universities and made the decision together, it was almost a no-brainer. Second nature for one to follow the other.

Meow.

You lift your head off the back of the couch and look next to you. Moonshine is sitting next to you, tilting her head and staring. You check the time on your phone and shake your head.

"You hungry, Moonie? Go get Soonie, Doongie, and Dori. I'll put your food right now." You stroke her fur before she hopped off the couch and went in the direction of Minho's room. You stand up from your position on the couch and stretch. Once you're settled, you make your way to the kitchen. You make sure to close the makeshift double-decker cat gate behind you to avoid an incident like the flour. You still remember the day you and Minho had to get supplies to make it. You were 19 and baby fact. It was evident that you two were freshly out of high school, or at the very least, really young. You decided it would be cheaper to buy two baby cribs and combine them.

You quickly put food and water for the cats and put it in the living room where they are already waiting to be fed.

"Don't eat too fast, you know you'll choke and if you die on my watch, dad will kill me." You add before heading back to the kitchen.

Minho should be home from work soon. He's been at work all day. They called him in to work a double this morning. It's almost dinner time and you know he's going to be starving when he gets home. He'll probably be too tired to make something for himself and he often doesn't eat at the restaurant because he knows everyone who works in the kitchen.

You open the fridge and scan what you have that could be made quickly. You're tired yourself, having worked another shift at the bar the night/morning before. And you already cooked today when you made lunch for Jisung, Chan, and Changbin. You settle on kimchi fried rice when you find some leftover rice from last night's dinner. It's simple, quick, and, most importantly, Minho's favorite.

***

Click

You rub your eyes as you sit up. You look around. All four cats surround you, in various stages of sleep. You didn't mean to fall asleep. After cooking dinner, you decided to do some homework while waiting for Minho on the couch. You must have fallen asleep while watching your professor's dance demo for class on Monday.

"Ah, did I wake you?" Minho whispers. Careful to not wake Dori and Moonshine.

"It's fine. I would have caught a cold sleeping out here anyway. Welcome home." You greet as you carefully get up from the couch.

"Thank you," He says quietly as he takes off his shoes and leaves them next to yours. You look at the time on your phone out of curiosity it's two hours later than he was supposed to be home.

"Did they ask you to stay late?" You turn around to find Minho taking off his jacket and setting his bag down by the door.

"Yeah, one of the servers called out last minute and the only other person who could have covered her shift needed some time to get there. But it's fine, we could use the extra money."

"True," You stand awkwardly by the couch. How are you supposed to greet him? A kiss? You shake the thought out of your head. "I made dinner. It's on the stove."

"Oh," Minho freezes for a second.

"You ate at the restaurant?"

"I had to. My options were pass out or risk food poisoning and I really don't want to pass out."

"Okay, that's fine." You give him a soft smile before making your way to the kitchen.

You grab a bowl and put some of the rice in it, making sure to get one of the eggs and putting it on top. You put the food in the microwave above the stove. You suddenly feel something on your shoulder. You turn your head to find Minho's head resting on your shoulder, his chin slightly diffing in.

"You made my favorite." He hums quietly.

"I didn't feel like cooking a full thing and we still had some rice from last night so, quick dinner." You're not sure why you're downplaying the fried rice. One of the reasons why you made it is because it is his favorite.

"Ah," Minho opens his mouth and waits for you to put some rice in it. You grab the serving spoon and take a bit of rice before putting it in Minho's mouth.

Beep, beep

You grab your food out of the microwave just as Minho grabs his own bowl and starts filling it with the rice.

"You don't have to eat because I'm eating."

"I'm eating because it's good and I'm still hungry." He says quickly. You know he feels bad that you went through the trouble of cooking and he already ate, so you drop it.

You walk to the small dining room and sit at one of the table settings you made earlier.

A few minutes later, Minho joins you, sitting across from you in the other setting. Both of you eat in silence, which isn't abnormal for the two of you. Both of you will often just sit in silence together, perfectly content with just being next to each other.

"I know you're tired but did you want to watch some TV before bed?" You ask suddenly.

Ever since the beach trip, you've felt distant from Minho. Or rather, you feel as if he's been distant from you. It's been almost three weeks but you've never felt farther away from him even though you were the closest any two humans could be without crawling into each other's skin. Technically speaking.

"Yeah, that'd be nice actually. My body is tired, but I don't think I can fall asleep right now." He yawns. You know that's almost definitely a lie. He could probably fall asleep in his bowl right now. And maybe you're a bit selfish, willing to steal any moment you can with Minho, but you don't care.

"Okay, we can keep watching that show we started last time."

***

The two of you sit on the couch, the cats moved to your respective bedrooms so they can sleep while you two watch TV. Minho is leaned all the way back into the couch, his left arm draped over your shoulder, his hand resting on your butt. Your head rests on his chest. You're listening to the beating of his heart and breathing more than you are the drama. His heart is beating at a calm, steady pace, his breathing even. You're sure he's fallen asleep. You don't move out of fear of waking him up and because you like being near him like this. You can fall asleep yourself if you're not careful.

You're not even paying attention to what's happening on the screen. It's some romance about friends and that's pretty much all you know. You and Minho only started watching it after Hyunjin harassed the two of you into starting it so he could have someone to talk to about it.

You start blinking suddenly when the TV pauses. You furrow your brows and sit up only to find Minho with the remote. You didn't even feel him move.

"Bedtime?" You ask yawning.

"No--I mean yes, but I was thinking we could talk first," Minho says, sitting up, his body becoming visibly stiff.

ba-dump

"Talk about what?" Your voice is small and wavering. The idea of someone asking to talk is anxiety-inducing enough, the fact that Minho said it is killing you. Nearly 3 weeks after you slept together. After watching the drama you were just watching. You can't help by jump to conclusions.

"We," Minho shifts towards you a bit, his dark brown eyes staring directly into yours. The last time you two made eye contact like this, you two were otherwise preoccupied in a motel room. "We never talked about what happened during the beach trip."

ba-dump, ba-dump

"We don't have to, we're both tired and it's late." You say quickly, not fully ready for this conversation.

"Y/n, if I don't talk about this tonight, I'm not going to get any sleep again." He says softly.

ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump

Your heart feels like it's going to burst out of your chest in anticipation. You try to swallow, but there is a dry lump in your throat. You're not sure why you're scared. It's Minho, your best friend. Your other half. He would never do anything to hurt you.

"Fine, for the sake of your sleep schedule, let's talk about it." You respond softly, resting your hand on his knee. His eyes fall to your hand for a second as he stares, contemplating, like he's trying to figure out what to say.

ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dum

“What... what if— How about we treat it...like...a one-night stand.” His voice cracks as he suddenly makes eye contact with you again. He wasn't asking, he was commanding it. Almost pleading for it.

Crack

The cracking sound is so muffled, that you're not sure it's coming from inside the apartment complex or from your own heart. Your breathing quickens as your heart pounds louder in your chest and your lungs can't expand to their full capacity. You feel exactly like you did when you were drowning.

Let's treat this like a one-night stand.

You are drowning. An overwhelming wave of sadness hits you just like the wave that almost completely overtook you. Right, you wish it had. Tears flood your eyes, not even threatening you come out by pricking the back of your eyes. The corner of your lips pulling down, shaking as you try your best to stop the overwhelming emotion. To stop from completely losing your shit, but you're failing.

“H-how..." Your voice wavers, almost breathless as you try to process what Minho said. "How can you tell me to treat this like a one-night stand when you know how I feel about you?”

Minho looks down again at your hand, unable to look you in the eyes now that a stream of tears pour out of them.

"Y/n, we shouldn't have done it in the first place. We crossed a boundary we shouldn't have crossed because we were both scared." His hand reaches down to his knee. You retract your hand at his sudden touch. It felt like being touched by fire and for the first time in your life, it felt like a bad thing.

"So—so you muster up the courage to tell me that. Not do whatever the fuck this is!" You shout. You're no longer in control of your emotions.

"I tried, believe me, I tried to bring this up."

"No the fuck you didn't. Not once since we got back from our trip did you ever pull me to the side to try to talk."

"I was scared!" He cries out, tears falling from his face.

"Of course you were scared!" You quickly stand up from the couch. "You're always scared! You let fear run your life. You're scared of me leaving so you don't act on your feelings for me. You're scared of change so you don't take full advantage of your talents. You're scared because I almost died so you sleep with me! You're scared of letting yourself be happy so you are sabotaging whatever this is."

"It's reasonable to be scared."

"Not like this. This is ridiculous. You're scared of love--or maybe you're scared of loving me--but none of this is reasonable."

"I'm not scared of loving you." He takes a step towards you and you quickly take a step back. Everything about him hurts, even his comforting touch.

"Really? Then say it," You spit, your anger taking over your sadness.

"Y/n, you know I love you. I don't have to say it."

"Yes, you do!"

"Why?"

"That shouldn't be a question. I shouldn't have to stand here and beg you to love me back! It shouldn't be difficult for you to say it! Even—no, especially if you're scared! Because I am terrified. But I can still say that I love you. I can say that I'm in love with you. Truly, madly, deeply, foolishly in love with you. And I hate it. I hate myself for it. I'm starting to hate you for it.

"Don't say that. Y/n don't say that. You don't mean that." Again, he walks towards you and, again, you back up.

"I do mean it. Do you know how much simpler my life would be if I just liked you platonically? Significantly simpler. I wouldn't compare every man I meet to you. You wouldn't be occupying every waking thought. I could be...happy."

"We were happy. We didn't have to complicate things. Can't this be enough?"

"It was until you opened your mouth! I just--" You take a deep breath, looking at Minho one more time. The anger quickly leaves your body, being replaced by overwhelming sadness. "I'm just really, really, really tired. I can't keep doing this to myself."

"Y/n--"

"No, no I can't. I won't. I can't keep letting you hurt me like this. This isn't good for us. This isn't good for me. I need—" You ramble as you run your hands through your hair. You pace around the living room trying to figure out what to do while Minho tries to get your attention.

Without really thinking, you walk to your room, locking the door behind you. You lean your back against the door and slide down. Hugging your knees to your chest, you let out a sob so loud, that you aren't even aware that you couldn't be that loud.

Moonshine wakes up from her nap and makes her way to you, purring. Your hand finds her fur and you stroke it softly as you sniffle. You sit there for what feels like hours, stroking Moonshine. The only sound that can he hear is your sniffling and Minhos's pleads on the other side of your door.

Finally having enough, you stand up and walk straight to your closet. You pull out a couple of suitcases and Moonshine's carrier. You put all the suitcases on your bed and start packing your things. You make sure to pack your school things and clothes for work. You're not even paying attention to anything else you're grabbing. You just need to leave. You can't keep putting yourself through this torture of the push and pull with Minho. You have to put yourself first.

You make sure to grab some of Moonshine’s toys and snacks. You can get food for her later. She won’t eat until late morning anyway, giving you enough time to find something. Once you finish packing your bags, you scoop Moonshine up and put her in her carrier. Looking over your room again, you’re satisfied you have everything you need for a few weeks. Before picking up your bags and leaving your room, you yank off the necklace you’re wearing. You stare at your closed fist hand for a second before slowly opening it to reveal the scallop shell from the beach trip. You made it into a necklace and kept it close. As a souvenir of your trip. A souvenir that will forever be tainted with a bitter.

You finally grab your bags, and Moonshine, and head out, only to run into a confused Minho. His eyes are bloodshot and his face is puffy.

“Where are you going?” He panics.

“I can’t stay here anymore,” You answer quietly.

“It’s late. Where are you going to go?”

“I’ll manage.”

“Y/n,”

You walk past Minho and go straight for the door. You stop dead in your tracks when you feel his hand wrap around your wrist. Minho drops his head on your back, tightening his grip.

“Y/n, please don’t go. I’m sorry. You can hate me and be mad at me all you want but please don’t leave me.” He whispers.

“You know what’s funny?” You scoff, “You were so scared of me leaving but this shit right here is what made me leave. You pushed me away. This is on you. ”

"Please," You pull your arm out of Minho’s grip before quickly leaving him alone in the apartment.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Taglist

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

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luvcelestes · 4 months

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YUUJI ITADORI x READER

mostly fluff with a little bit of angst.

PROLOGUE ー NEXT

summary: You and Yuuji were partners with blooming feelings, until you had been wiped out completely, causing you to be an amnesiac, losing a big chunk of your life, including him and any other friends you met in the past years. Only remembering a bit of your life, you had to slowly rebuild everthing from scratch.

TW: blood, mentions of death, PTSD, profanity, confusion about identity

"ill always be there for you. please hang on, my love.."

Your eyes widened as a curse pounced on you, yelling gibberish and slowly attempting to engulf and kill you. You screamed while fighting it. Unfortunately for you, the curse was extremely powerful, and it's main strength was physical power.

You struggled as it threw you around, yelling for help. As much as you tried, you couldn't break free of the curse's grasp. You tried using your jujutsu, but to no avail, your arms were broken from the strong grip the curse had on your body. You couldn't bring yourself to muster up the strength to fight the curse.

The curse looked curiously at you, and then a sick smile appeared on it's face when it realized you weren't going to fight. You looked at it wearily, and in one last weak attempt, you tried to get out of its grasp. Unfortunately, it didn't work. The curse, angered at your attempt, threw you on the ground and yelled as it picked you up and threw you around, your bones cracking, and the pain throbbing so much.

You cried, and writhed until you could barely feel anything. The pain was eventually too much, and the curse got bored of you, and walked away, as it attacked you, it thought to just leave you. You took heavy breaths as blood trickled down from the wounds.

'Fuck.' You thought as your eyes closed involuntarily, and you fought to keep them open, thinking about all your friends, and Yuuji. A soft smile appeared on your face as you thought of the memories you ha made together. Movie nights, birthdays, which Yuuji had gotten frosting all over his face. His sheepish smile You remember all the memories you had with him, and you finally closed your eyes, accepting your fate.

The last thing you heard through the ringing of your ears was the pained voice and footsteps. You instantly knew who it was. Yuuji. A single tear rolled down your cheek until all you saw was black, and what you heard was just static.

He ran faster than he'd ever ran before when he saw the pool of blood around you. He yelled as he reached you, tears running down his face. "No. No! No, no, no, no!"

He cuddled your head in his arms. "No... _____..." He cried into your shirt, holding your head with shaking heads, blood steadily streaming out of the wound. He shakily held your face, and checked for a pulse, and when he detected a faint pulse, a glimmer of hope came up in him.

He stood up and held you up carefully. He ran as fast he could, ignoring his own injuries, and ran to the hospital, faster than he ran when he trained. He knew if he was slow, he could risk your life. The second he reached the hospital doors, he collapsed, but not before protecting your head from hitting the cold tile, hoping you weren't injured.

He woke up to a hospital room, the beeping of machines, which bandages and casts. He looked around panicked. "How's the girl that was with me?" He asked a nurse nervously.

"Oh, _____ _____?" She grimaced, "she's fine... but unfortunately, she's in a coma."

His face must've showed his despair, as the nurse quickly said, "she's not doing bad. She's starting to improve, and the doctors predict she'll wake up in at most month."

He sighed a sigh of relief. Soon, many of Yuuji's friends and mentors came to visit him. They all expressed their happiness that he's improving quickly. Soon enough, he got discharged after a week. Even though he physically improved, the light that was previously in his eyes disappeared even more each day that passed that you didn't wake up.

He was sitting at your bedside, brushing off the hair off your face when he saw something that made happiness surge through his eyes. You opened your eyes and blinked, and Yuuji started crying as he felt you squeeze his hand softly. A small smile appeared on your face, and you closed your eyes again.

Yuuji ran to get a nurse, yelling. "She woke up! She woke up!"

You turned your head and softly smiled at this strange boy's excitement. You didn't know who it was but it sure was nice to have someone so excited for you.

Once the boy calmed down, and the nurse left to take many tests, you turned your head to him and asked shakily,

"Who are you?"

hey guys! short read, but i was too excited, so here's an early release!

im a busy student so dont expect quick updates 😭 sorry!! updates will be every once in a while so i apologize for that..

more coming soon ly 🫶🏻

(wordcount: 774)

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lazypiratewitch777 · 10 months

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tantrums

pairings: charles leclerc x ferrari sister!leclerc

synopsis: y/n leclerc, the youngest of the leclerc siblings. gets frustrated over the weekend, as her team ignores her suggestions about what they should do with the car. y/n keeps her frustration at bay, but it's difficult when race day comes close and her team is incompetent.

"fuck!" you said as the car crashes down the barrier, losing its power. "putain!" you hit the car with frustration, you get out of the car and walked away. throwing away your gloves in frustration.

"looks like leclerc got herself another dnf right here! ending in P11, how will this look for the young leclerc?" the commentator's voice blasted through the televisions of the viewers.

you made your way to the garage, you took off your helmet and the angry frustrated look was distinct on your face. "y/n you're up for an interview." your manager informed you whilst handing you a drink.

you took it with an angry look, "jesus christ i just got off a race! can't i take a fucking break for a minute?!" your manager nodded, "noted, i will inform them" "thank you, david." yoh thanked the manager. you felt bad for lashing out on everyone, this weekend has especially been tough on you. today was qualifying and you just ended up on P11, there was so much pressure on being the first female driver to enter f2. but if you wanted to make it into f1, you were going to be professional about it.

the tv in front of you played a replay your crash, in slow motion. she felt bad for herself, you felt like you let everyone down. but what else could you do? when you were always the one suggesting to the prema team on what they could do to improve the car, but they never listen. it's all bullshit.

"this is fucking bull." you say to yourself, looking down at the ground. you felt tears swelling in her eyes, you let them drop.

"hey mon ange," charles' voice was heard, you looked towards where charles was and stood up and hugged him. "it'll all be alright." he reassured you. that's when you let it all out. you sobbed into his chest as you felt charles patted your back gently. "it's all a disaster, charles! everything is falling apart. it feels like it's all coming down to me." you ranted in between sobs, charles frowned at the thought of her sister feeling like this. because he understood what it felt like to be in her situation right now. he pulled away and wiped the tears from her face, and said. "hey, it's not the end of the world, ange. it may feel like everything's falling apart right now, and yeah, i can admit that i feel like that, too. i understand you and what you're feeling right now." his eyes witnessed your teary eyes and continued, "i promise you, this isn't the end. and things will be alright. just have faith, ange! alright? can you do that for me?" he asked you assuringly, and you nodded in reply.

"i'll tell you what, when the race is over. we'll get ice cream? you love ice cream." charles smiled at her, "y.. yeah, i would love that very much." you smiled again, wiping those tear-stained cheeks of yours. it was clear that charles beamed at the sight of your smile, "there's that smile! come on, let's go to maman?" you simply chuckled, wiping the remaining tears off her eyes before speaking, "yes, let's go to maman." you two walked out of the garage, and he lets you change out of your attire and into something comfortable. you two made your way to the ferrari hospitality, where you would be getting ice cream and wait for arthur to finish.

a/n: THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD!!! i kinda wrote this impulsively because i was bored, and i just got discharged from the hospital. and i promised you guys i would finish this fic for you. thank you for being patient! and i apologize if there are any mistakes in this fic, as it was rushed and not actually proofread. thank you for reading my works! as always, stay safe. <3333

¡navigation!

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ollie-supports · 6 days

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hello all! below the line i am going to explain my hiatus, tw for death, mental illness, neglect, heart problems, psych ward mention, and school issues. i will be returning today! please take care of yourself if you can't handle any of these topics, your health matters!🌸

so, to start off, my grandmother died. her name was bunny and she was the most wonderful person! she had an aneurysm about to explode, so she took a voluntary surgery to get rid of it and reduce the pain. she did not have to get this surgery because it wouldve been done when it blew, but it would have improved her quality of life. as they tried to put in a tube to regain bloodflow, all the tissue basically crumbled. they had to sacrifice a kidney, but her other worked just fine. she was on lots of machines, and when she only had 2 days left until discharge, she demanded for us to pull the plug. she would have survived. her quality of life wouldve skyrocketed. she just needed to wait 2 more days on her machines, which wouldve been painless had she accepted painkillers. i watched her die. i held her hand, taking comfort in its warmth. it got so cold so fast when she died. i threw up only 3 seconds after i felt her go cold. i had never truly understood dead weight until then. she survived off of her machines for 6 hours. i spent every second by her side, holding her hand. i heard her death rattles. i watched her stats decline. when the painkillers made me pass out, i saw the little girl in her right before she died. the little girl she used to be, who thought she'd never die.

my mental state severely deteriorated. we had to sell her house, the house my uncles lived in to stay closer to us. my uncles now live much farther away, and they were my only safe space. i have been severely neglected my whole life, and as im writing this i am in debilitating pain from how hungry i am. my parents have enough money to feed me. they just dont. my parents have ignored me my whole life.

this affected school. i was a straight A student, getting a 4.0 gpa easily. i failed every class this trimester. i may be held back.

the stress from all of this has severely impacted my heart problems, giving me longer and worse episodes. i have nearly died 3 times now because my heart problems induced a heart attack. ive died once and was resuscitated. my dosage for my antidepressants has been tripled, its the only way to prevent me from yet another psych ward visit, in which i would have to go to a long term facility.

please be patient with me. im trying my best, i promise.

#🌸.•°○ ollie's rambles ○°●.🌸#pro transid #pro transx #radqueers please interact #transid please interact #vent #rq 🌈🍓#rq community #transx #transid #radqueer

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hawkinshighdropout · 2 years

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Beautiful Remains.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x (female) Reader

Summary: Six months pass since the doomsday with Vecna, your boyfriend Eddie has become more recluse and you feel that you are losing him. What will it take to get him to trust you again? To believe you still love him, scars and all.

Warnings: The only warning here is that there is a line at the very end (literally the last couple of sentences) that hint at the idea of having children one day. It doesn't go into any detail, but I have been asked to put a trigger warning for tokophobia and I am more than happy to oblige to ensure I don't make anyone uncomfortable! <3 Other than that this is purely angsty/fluff content. Unless you count a couple of curse words or mentions of Eddie's bat scars as needing a warning? Idk, I haven’t written fanfics in like 8 years so I’m a little rusty…

Note/Request: Requested by @sugoiisa. “How about one with Eddie somehow surviving the demobats and everyone including the reader nurse him back to health. And with the amount of scars he’s gotten from the bats, he grows self conscious with himself, so the reader reassured him of how their views on him haven’t changed all the while they kiss his scars😭”

Word Count: 3.2k

Send me prompts to write about!

It had been six months since everything went down… Six months since “the earthquake”, six months since Max had been hospitalised, six months since you thought you’d lost Eddie. It had been the longest six months of your life, and you knew the pain and healing was far from over, both figuratively and literally. School had been cancelled for the rest of the year and everyone was promised an honorary graduation diploma, you had suffered enough so this was the first victory for your group.

The town was still in the very early stages of fixing itself back up again, most people had been discharged from the hospitals, the mayor granting everyone financial aid so they could put a temporary pause on all non-essential employment so people could assist in the hard work to rebuild Hawkins.

Max was… well, she wasn’t great. Your once bubbly and attitude ridden little friend was now a sad and quiet individual, she kept to herself and didn’t talk much outside of the nurses running checks on her. She had officially gone blind. Most of her bones still broken, but healing. That was the important part. That was the miracle. She was healing, she was doing better day by day, that’s all that mattered to you.

Lucas hadn’t left her side once and you could tell that even in this state, their bond was only growing stronger. It was a pure testimony of love and will, that the two young souls had found comfort and security in the protection of one another, it was admirable.

Dustin was getting better, gradually. His ankle had healed up but the emotional trauma still lingered, as you would imagine. He thought Eddie had died in his arms, and for a couple minutes he technically had, your second miracle. You’re not sure what god you prayed to, all of them perhaps, but you were granted a small miracle in the doctors being able to revive him back in Hawkins.

Dustin had started seeing a counsellor to deal with his grief, and over the next passing months you could see the light slowly returning back to his eyes. He started to make jokes again, wanting to hangout more, still broken but he was working on it, and you couldn’t be more proud of him.

Steve was improving, his wounds had healed up for the most part, leaving him with a small scar that he would even brag about as being his “Battle Wound, only heroes get these.” Him and Robin had lost their jobs, again, due to the order of non essential businesses to close, so they volunteered to continue providing assistance for younger residents.

Steve was hired to drive kids two and from places to make sure they got there safe, he would pick up odd jobs here and there; laundry, kitchen work, even babysitting. Yeah, he’s always the god damn babysitter.

Robin was the same, but she worked more closely in the kitchen to make sure everyone who was displaced in the explosion had their weekly food supply boxes sent out to them. If she knew the family had a smaller child, she would always sneak a cookie or two into the box, freshly baked by Vickie. They wanted to bring a little joy to the children so in their downtime they baked cookies. It wasn’t on the list for items to include, but no one needed to know about that.

Nancy and Jonathan were going strong, they seemed to be closer than ever, he had cleaned up his act and was far more present and open with his thoughts and feelings. Since everything was closed down, Nancy deferred her college application for a year, giving them the much needed time to work things out and decide what they actually wanted. The acceptance letter merely a backup plan after the dust had settled.

Mike and Will? They seemed to be okay, still on edge as the threat of Vecna was always around the corner, but they went back to normal in terms of how they acted around one another. Eleven was doing better too, surrounded by the love and support of Hopper and Joyce (who had since moved in together), they were playing happy families.

Joyce’s job had shifted more into calling numbers on lists provided by the mayor to organise relocation for those who had lost everything. Hopper was always working, trying to locate the last couple of missing people to no avail, but he never gave up hope, he never stopped looking.

Eddie? He’s…. Sigh. Eddie, your poor Eddie. Out of everyone in your group, except Max, he was the worst off from all of this. He tried to play the hero, and paid the price for it. You’re not even sure how it happened as you’d blacked out most of the trauma, but you knew you’d somehow gotten him back to Hawkins with the help of the guys, rushed him to hospital where he was induced into a coma and had emergency surgery. He spent the first couple of weeks still in the coma but the doctors had promised you that he would pull through.

Those first couple of weeks, you visited him every single day. You brushed his hair, read him articles from his favourite magazine, kept him company and even slept beside him on some nights. He was bad. Really bad. Most of his body was bandaged up and you knew the damage had been done, you were terrified of how different life would be after everything he had been through.

You and the guys did everything for Eddie from the moment he regained consciousness up until present day. Dustin had let Eddie have his Mattel Electronics - Dungeons & Dragons handheld console whilst he was in the hospital, wanting Eddie to still get to enjoy his hobbies without exhausting himself with playing the full game himself. Eddie had complained about how nothing could replace the love and effort he put into the real thing, but he was incredibly grateful for the gesture and played late at night when he couldn’t sleep.

The other kids would come to the hospital and make sure he had snacks to eat, keeping him company until they were kicked out from visiting hours being over. Robin, Nancy and Steve would come by and make sure he had fresh clothes and get him anything he needed that the kids couldn’t get hold of. You were all his care and support team, and he’s never felt more loved and wanted in a town that once wanted him dead.

Eddie had only been home for about a month at this point, they kept him in longer than any of you expected due to the severity of his wounds. They had to do testing to make sure there wasn’t any horrific venom of sorts in the bites, and he had such a high maintenance routine that it was easier to keep him at the hospital where he could be checked on every couple of hours.

His wounds had somewhat healed, they were no longer open or needing to be bandaged, but they looked gnarly. Eddie had become far more recluse and insecure, he never took his shirt off around you, you never showered together anymore, you hadn’t even had sex in months (not that that was important, you just knew before this all happened you’d be doing it almost daily so it’s a shock that Eddie hadn’t even made attempts to do more than kiss.) He still made sure that you knew he loved you, he just didn’t feel confident enough to be intimate around you at all, you couldn’t blame him.

You were currently stepping out of the shower of Eddie’s trailer, wrapping a towel around yourself and combing through your hair with your fingers as Eddie sat in his bedroom reading a magazine. You dry yourself off and change into comfy clothes, a pair of red shorts and a white t-shirt with some band you don’t remember the name of plastered on the back, hair in a loose bun whilst it dried.

Eddie was wearing black sweatpants and a long sleeved Dungeons and Dragons shirt, socks on his feet as he was covered head to toe, not wanting you to see his scars.

“Hey, love.” He said, not looking up from his place on the magazine, only tearing his eyes away from the page when you’re leaning down to kiss him, to which he happily reciprocates.

“Hi, gorgeous.” He flinches slightly at the name, before he would have grinned brightly but now he doesn’t assosicste with it, feeling as if it didn’t belong to him.

You gently take the magazine out of his hands, folding the corner so he wouldn’t lose his place, before you set it on the bedside table away from him. Sitting beside him on the bed, you rest your hand against his cheek, cupping his head and stroking his cheekbone with a concerned look on your face. He sighs sadly, his hand cupping the back of your wrist whilst his own thumb swipes acros the back of your hand comfortingly.

“Baby… It’s 100 degrees outside, are you sure you wanna be sat here sweating your ass off in those clothes?” your voice tender, understanding, laced with concern rather than judgement.

He shrugs, truth he told he was already overheating in his outfit, he just couldn’t bear the thought of you seeing any part of him like this. You shuffle closer, press a kiss to the centre of his forehead before speaking, making sure to choose your words carefully as the last thing you’d ever want to do was upset him.

“Honey, it’s okay… I… I’m not going to judge you, you know? I want what’s best for you, I don’t want you getting sick from overheating, I promise you I won’t judge you” you whisper to him, seeing that he’s gnawing at his lip anxiously as you speak.

“I just don’t want you to see me differently, I don’t want you thinking I’m hideous and not being attracted to me. I don’t want you breaking up with me just cause you don’t think I’m hot anymore,” voice quiet, you can tell by the poor attempt to mask his sniffles that he had tears in his eyes.

“Never gonna happen,” your voice confident.

Pulling away, you take both of cheeks in your hands, tilting his head up so you lock eyes with one another. Thumbs swiftly wiping away any tears that happen to trickle down his face, you offer him a soft smile, caught between trying to be reassuring and not wanting to break down seeing him like this.

“I love you, Edward. Okay? You’re always going to be the most handsome man I’ve ever laid my eyes upon, you hear me? We’ve been through hell and back together, it’s going to take far more than your scars to make me not love you anymore. You’re the sweetest, most funny, kind, caring, supportive and passionate individual I have ever been around. You love everyone so passionately and you’re so proudly yourself and that’s a beautiful thing to experience. You’ve shown me what real love is like and you have not once made me question my worth or if you loved me. You’re a real man, Edward Munson, and I can promise you from the bottom of my heart that /nothing/ will /ever/ change that, I love you.” You can’t stop the few tears that roll down your cheek as you’re professing your love, his tears betraying him in the same way yours were.

“I love you,” he mumbled sadly. He knew that you wouldn’t judge him, you were the only person to truly know him inside and out, you loved every quirk and comforted him through every breakdown, you were his rock and you were his person, he felt safe with you. It’s just the insecure voice in his head trying to convince him that you don’t want him anymore, even when you prove time and time again that you do.

“I love you more, bub. Can you please just think about changing? Please? I really don’t want you making yourself more uncomfortable, I won’t make you go outside and I won’t let anyone else see you like this, okay? It’s just us, it’s just me. I promise.” you remind him.

It takes a little more convincing before he lets out a sigh of defeat and he agrees to change into something more weather appropriate. You give him the space to let him climb out of bed, legs crossed and fingers nervously playing with your nails whilst you watch him rummage through the closet for other options.

He settles on a pair of black denim shorts and his old Hellfire T-shirt, he hadn’t worn either items in months. You can see his hands shaking with nerves and fear as he even thought about changing into them in front of you, glancing at you sheepishly.

“If you’d feel more comfortable, you can change in the bathroom? I’m not going to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, okay? Baby steps, honey.” You reassure him.

He lets out a sigh of relief before fumbling his way into the bathroom, you look down at your hands and pick at the chipped polish whilst you could hear him changing on the other side of the door. Not long after, the handle rattled and his curly haired head popped out from behind the door, clearing his throat to grab your attention.

“Uh… can you… Can you close your eyes?” he asks, hoping to draw out the reveal for as long as possible so he can minimise the amount of time you see him for.

“Of course, sweetheart.” You’re immediately covering your eyes with your palms and looking down to prove you would comply. Eddie slowly comes out of the bathroom and fumbled with his hands nervously, his rings in a dish on the bedside table as he hadn’t felt himself enough to wear them.

“Um… I… you can open…” he stammers.

You make sure that he’s comfortable with it before peeling your hands from your eyes and slowly glancing up at the older man at the foot of your bed. You try to smile reassuringly, but it falters a little at the sight of his eyes welling with tears and his body shaking.

“Baby, come here…” you offer your arms out to him with a sad tone to your voice, wanting nothing more than to comfort him in his time of need.

In a flash he’s crashing into the bed and curling into your arms, his face hidden in your neck as your arms wrap protectively around his middle. You could feel his body trembling as he let out a few tears on your shirt, your hands brushing up and down his back slowly. Kissing the side of his head, you lulled him to a silence where he was finally able to breathe again in your grasp.

“I love you.” You remind him, not letting him think for even a second that anything had changed between you both.

“I love you” he mumbled into your shoulder.

“Can I take a look? If you’re okay with that? I’ve not seen them since we took you to the hospital…” testing the waters, you didn’t want to force him before he’s ready and go back tk square one.

With a reluctant sigh, he’s eventually pulling himself from your arms and sitting up beside you in the bed once again. You shoot him a reassuring smile before he curls his fingers around the hem of his shirt, pulling it up painfully slowly to reveal the scar tissue that the bats had left behind.

“Do they still hurt?” You ask, trying to deflect the attention towards yes/no questions rather than letting him get lost in his head.

“I mean, they’re kinda tender after the shower but they’re no longer agony.” He explains with a slight shrug, you move closer and reach out towards him to ask permission to touch the skin. He agrees, so your small hand ghosts across the gentle lines of the scars to trace them, feeling him flinch under your touch.

“I still love you.” You remind him, he lets out a breath he didn’t even realise he had been holding. Eddie knew you loved him, but the fact you said it whilst looking at what he deemed to be the ‘worst part’ of him calmed his racing mind.

You convince him to switch positions with you, him laying on his back in the centre of your bed whilst his hands rest under his head. You get permission from him once again to raise his shirt, leaving he fabric bundled around his armpits whilst you straddled his hips. Small hands cupping his sides, your gaze trailing across all of the torn skin with a sad smile.

“I love you. You’re still handsome to me. Very handsome, in fact. I don’t think you understand how much I love you… You sacrificed yourself for a town that hated you, baby. You did the most selfless thing anyone could ever imagine, you’re a hero. Without you, we couldn’t have pulled off the rest of the plan… You’re a fucking rockstar, Ed. I’ve never loved anyone more than I love you, and your scars will never change that.” You confess, seeing the tension leaving his face with each passing word.

Leaning down, you press a soft yet loving kiss to every scar on his chest, whispering a proud “I love you” after each and every kiss. You didn’t stop until you had coated his entire torso in kisses, connecting your lips with his as you slide the fabric down to cover him again so he could relax. He kissed you back, with passion.

“I fucking love you, sweetheart.” His hands grabbing your face and keeping you close as he kissed between subtle sobs, unable to believe his luck that he had someone so wonderful and understanding all to himself.

You can’t help but giggle as you both let out months of pent up emotions just spiral out of you, showering one another in kisses and compliments as you felt Eddie slightly relaxing around you. Eddie was coming back. YOUR Eddie was coming back. The sound of his laugh filled your heart with joy, you had begun to fear that you would never hear it again, but this was all you could ever need.

“You’re so fucking handsome, Eddie. I’m such a lucky person to get to have you as my own. I’m going to cherish the ground you walk on until we’re old and grey, you hear me? We’re gonna get married and maybe even pop out a Mini Munson or two. You’re mine. You’re my home and I’m so fucking in love with you,” you confess through the tears and the giggles.

Suddenly you’re being grabbed, tugged, and rolled over in the bed, Eddie towering over you as he’s got a hand cupping your jaw. He’s smirking down at you as your cheeks flush pink, everything he did made you weak in the knees for him. Kneeling between your spread legs as he’s showering you in kisses, lips slipping along your jaw and down your throat as he purrs playfully at you.

“Mini Munsons, hm?” he smirks.

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lennysfridge · 6 months

Note

at the sight of her opening eyes, aryne and john’s shoulders sag in relief, tears of relief accumulating in their eyes. meanwhile matthew, still posted by the door, stood frozen, unsure if his desperate mind was playing tricks on him.

after a few beats, matthew let out a soft “baby,” voice hesitant in asking. and while he didn’t get a verbal answer, the hum he got in an affirmative tone made sobs of relief bubble in his chest. “baby,” he said again, voice a lot more sure. yet again, no verbal response, but this time her eyes were drawn towards matthew, a sleepy, still half-drugged up grin making its way to her face.

yet before he could make a move towards her bedside, the door came bursting open, dr.smith, nurse johnston, and another professional the three people in the room (bar bear and bug) didn’t know rushing in the room.

upon seeing bear awake and conscious on the bed, smiles overtook their faces. “hello ms.tavares, glad to have you back with us. do you know what happened?”

bear noticeably gulped, pausing, and then gestured towards her throat.

matthew, an expert at reading his girlfriend, states, “she needs water, her throats too dry.” at his words, nurse johnston’s eyes widened, uttering, “oh, right,” before quickly shoving a glass of water in bear’s direction.

after bear had a few sips, she gained a thigh full look on her face, before replying, “i remember making another drink and then sitting on the couch in the suite. after that, everything is dark.”

“you said another drink. about how many did you drink?” dr.smith questions, wanting to ensure the assumption they had made about her alcohol intake was correct.

“three- but my second one might has well have been two. i went a little heavy,” bear stated. her statement made the unknown medical professional’s presence light up, instantly writing down notes on his clipboard.

“and just for assistance purposes, please state your full name, where you live, your parents and siblings names, and what your father’s occupation is,” dr.smith inquires, the unknown male seemingly awaiting bear’s responses eagerly.

“my name’s barret aryne tavares, i live in toronto, my dad’s name is john, my mom’s name is aryne, my siblings are axton, jace and bug. and my dad plays hockey for the maple leafs,” bear responds with ease.

at her responses, the man quietly converses with dr.smith, before making his way out of the room. “that was dr.allar- he’s one of the neurology specialists on site. he was just in here to monitor you for any immediate signs of memory issues. however, you aced it. he’ll likely drop in one more time before you leave, but otherwise you shouldn’t see him,” nurse johnston pipes up from her place beside dr.smith.

“may i ask for your names? i would know them, but i was kinda unconscious when we first met,” bear joked, being met with silence from her parents and matty, even bug giving her a little look. on the other hand, dr.smith and nurse johnston let controlled smiles bleed onto their faces.

“i’m nurse johnston, and i administered your hemodialysis treatment. this is dr.smith, and she’s overseeing your case,” nurse johnston replied, tone giving the effect this wasn’t the first time she gave an introductory like that.

dr.smith spoke now, from her place next to bear’s vital machine. “your vitals look very improved. we were able to take you off hemodialysis in about. 10 minutes. you’ve been on fluids ever since. however we’re going to start you on an iv, to help lower your BAC, and also remove any traces of your medication that still may be interacting with the alcohol. but after tonight, as long as everything looks good tomorrow morning, we should be able to discharge you,” and with that, she gestured towards nurse johnston, who took that as her que to take a few quick steps towards the floating desk connected to her iv, and made quick work to prepare another one to go into her arm.

once she was done preparing the iv, dr.smith took a step back to give nurse

johnston some room, who made quick work to prepare any area on her vein, she took one glance towards bear, as well as matty who had taken refuge in a chair directly on this other side during this interaction and said, “you may want something to hold on to. patients sometimes feel various levels of discomfort,” and at her words, matthew’s hand found a home on the arm rest of her hospital bed, and bear’s hand wandered up the rest to grasp his. at the minimal connection, they both let small grins make their way on to their faces.

seeing bear grasp kniesy’s hand, nurse johnston quickly inserted the iv, and bear gripped matty’s hand a little harder, before letting go once the discomforting feeling was over with.

“well you look to be set. nurse johnston will probably come back before night fall to change your iv if your BAC hasn’t lowered. however in the morning, you should be good to go, and should be discharged by 11am,” dr.smith chirped, and then glanced at nurse johnston, and gestured for the other woman to follow her.

once the door shut behind the two women, it was as if the silence became a thousand times heavier.

best glanced nervously between her parents, who were sat in chairs close to the door, and her boyfriend sat next to her, and then quickly broke eye contact once she locked eyes with matthew, and resorted to glueing her eyes to the hand in her lap with two iv’s attached.

finally, matthew had enough, and he broke. “what were you thinking bear? that was so stupid. i get aryne usually reads your meds and their requirements to you, but why wouldn’t you do it yourself? and i know i like to read them off to you as you take them, but do you understand how utterly stupid you were today? had you made another one, you could’ve died bear! you could’ve died…” his voice broke towards the end as he trailed off, phone grasped limply in his hand, with a google search of, “how much alcohol can mix with prescription drugs before you die?”

the longer his rant went on, the faster tears fell from bears eyes. she knows she was stupid- at least now. and all she wanted to do was get to the arena quicker. that’s it. she didn’t mean anything by it.

at her thought process, she quietly spoke up, “i just wanted to get to the arena quicker. i know i was taking forever to get ready, so i just grabbed my pills and took them before we left. i swear i would’ve read them. i should’ve read them…,” her voice broke now, distressed by the amount of worry she knows she caused the people in the room, and probably many more.

at the thought of other people, her head whipped up, distress taking over, “where are the boys? are they okay? did they have to see me like this?” she asked in a panicked manner. her daughters distress made aryne remember she had never gotten an answer from john in the lobby about the boys, and her head turned quickly to him.

“mitch and steph got them home. steph said she remembered their night time routine, and me and matty jumped at the opportunity to get here faster,” john’s voice spoke up in a soothing manner, bringing a hand to grasp his wife’s, and making eye contact with his oldest.

unexpectedly, the door creaked open, nurse johnston peaking her head in. “i went to go search for a blanket, as most hemodialysis patients, along with people with multiple iv’s usually complain of the chills. however it looks like we’re running short, so i apologize,” and she quickly flashed a smile and shut the door again.

once again, as she shut the door, silence overtook the room.

finally john spoke up, with a sleeping bug in his arms. “im going to hand you bug, and me and mom are going to run to the restroom, grab a few snacks and drinks to bring back here, and then i think we’re going to head out. mom’s about to join bug in lala land,” he joked towards the end, raising the hand attached to his wife’s, and promptly shaking her out of her sleep filled haze.

and doing as he said he said he would, he adjusted bug into the crook of her big sisters neck and took a step back to ensure she stayed asleep. at the loss of weight, john shook his arm out, and then questioned, ”what snacks do you guys want?”

both young adults in the room answered harmoniously, “cheetos and blue gatorade,” and then shyly glanced towards eachother, before looking away.

the adults in the room smiled at one another, reminiscent of how they sued to be. after their rapid reminiscing, they quickly made their way to the door, shutting it softly behind them.

at their absence, matthew looked towards bear, and simply took her in. he was so thankful she was alive. and in reality- he didn’t mean what he said earlier. he was just scared of the idea that he possibly could’ve had to continue on in life without her.

“i’m sorry for how i said what i said earlier baby,” matty paused, ensuring bear’s attention was on him. “it’s everything i wanted to say, but in the wrong way. today just scared the shit out of me bear. it made me realize just how quickly things can happen that can change your life. i; at this point in time, have no clue how i’d go on without you,” at the conclusion of his emotional confession, bear was worked to tears.

“oh baby, no don’t cry i-“ bear cut him off quickly, “please kiss me idiot. you don’t just tell me you can’t live without and don’t give me a little kiss,” she jokingly spoke, quickly leaning up to meet him in the middle.

however in the middle of their lip-lock, the door cracked open agan, john and aryne coming back through the door.

aryne spoke up jokingly to break their embrace, “just because we finally let you two have the door shut doesn’t mean you jump in her bed,” aryne teased the knies boy, coming close to the boy and messing with his hair.

once she neared matthew, she set their snacks on the bed, and then reached for her babygirl, who had begun just barely waking up.

when she had bug securely in her arms, she made her way to stand by john at the door, both parents turning around one last time before they departed.

“bear, we’re happy you’re okay. mom’s gotta run the boys to school, so i’ll drop by in the morning to sign you out. we called off morning skate before we left, so we’ll probably just head home after,” john spoke with the confidence of a leader.

“anyway,” aryne chirped up after her husband, “goodnight to the both of you. we love you guys, sleep tight!”

and with that, the tavares parents, along with the littlest tavares, were out the door.

once it was just matthew and barrett in the room, there was a long pause. but then suddenly, bear spoke up in between her now chattering teeth.

“fuck did they- they turn the temp down in here?” bear questioned, arms covered in goosebumps.

at her reaction, matthew got up to check the temperature first, before answering, “no babe- its only 67 in here. are you okay?” he questioned, concern building in his chest for his girl.

that concern was suddenly washed away when he remembered what nurse johnston had poked her head in about earlier. “they said you’d get cold baby- but they don’t have any blankets. what do you want me to do?” he questioned, placing his warm hands on her arms in an effort to help warm her up.

“please cuddle with me”, bear said rapidly, grasping matty’s arm with the hand closest to him.

“your like a heater at night bubba, and you should do the trick,” she spoke in a mix of seriousness and teasing.

matty took her statement at face value. “alright, then move over, and i’ll lay on your right,” matthew said, as he got up to lay down in his usual place beside bear.

just as he went to lay down though, bear got a timid look on her face. “you- ah- you usually don’t wear a shirt at night bubba. can you uh- take it off now?” she questioned, prepared to say it was a joke depending on his reaction.

at her question though, he simply reached for the bottom of his shirt, and yanked it off of his body, showcasing his athletic build.

“even in a hospital bed you just want to see me naked,” he teased, before laying down next to his girl and getting comfortable.

with her one good hand, bear jokingly hit his shoulder. “nuh-uh,” she said in childish manner. “you’re just warmer this way, that’s why,” she said, a grin on her face alluding to a different meaning.

after their teasing interaction, matty got bear settled in his chest, her head laying on his heart to listen to the rhythmic beat. the duo went silent, before bear spoke up in a tone of voice that showed just how worn out she really was. “thank you for loving me matty, regardless of how stupid the decisions i sometimes make are, the girl said while tilting her head to look her boyfriend in the eyes.

quickly he responded, “baby, i wouldn’t have you any other way. let’s not make this a weekly thing though, okay?” at his teasing words, bear nodded her head and said, “agreed. i’m a little tired of it too ya know,” making the duo for some reason break out into sleep deprived giggles.

“in all seriousness, i love you to the moon matthew knies,” bear said after the fact, all remnants of joking gone. “and i love you to the stars barrett tavares,” and with their loving words, the couple locked lips one more time for a kiss that said everything they couldn’t.

once bear finally lays her head back on matty’s bare chest, a few beats of silence pass.

“hey ba-“ he attempts, before quickly realizing she was asleep. with that realization, he slowly angled his head down to place one more kiss on her hairline, and then wrapped one of his arms securely around his girl to keep her safe where she belonged- with him.

the next morning, nurse johnston opens the door quietly to begin making patient rounds, and smiles at the sight of the two lovesick teenagers embracing eachother.

she could come back later- they could use the rest.

IM SOBBING

this is so good

i love you gray

#🫂anon #barrett x knies

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dontmeantobepoliticalbut · 3 days

Text

Last week, the Supreme Court heard oral arguments in what could end up being its most consequential abortion decision since Dobbs. In a case pitting Idaho’s extreme abortion ban against a federal law known as EMTALA—that since 1986 has required hospitals to provide emergency care—conservative justices seemed to embrace the idea that states can deny crisis medical treatment to pregnant patients, even if doing so means those patients suffer catastrophic, life-altering injuries. “My reaction can be summed up as ‘appalled,’” says Sara Rosenbaum, emerita professor at George Washington University who is one of the country’s foremost experts in health policy issues affecting women and families. “Will [the court] really say it is fine [to enforce] a law that costs women their organs as long as they don’t die?”

It’s hard to think of a piece of progressive American health care policy since the late 1970s in which Rosenbaum hasn’t played a pivotal role conceptualizing, enacting, or improving. That includes the federal statute that guarantees the right of every American to go to a hospital emergency room and receive medical treatment before being sent somewhere else. The Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act requires hospitals to screen and stabilize anyone who arrives at the emergency room, including women in active labor. Narrow in scope yet vast in impact, the law has been a “force field around hospital emergency departments,” Rosenbaum says, protecting pregnant patients for four decades. Now, with the Dobbs decision, SCOTUS has “blown up medical care for childbearing people,” she says—and EMTALA could be the next major health care protection that the court decides to explode.

To more fully understand the implications of the case before the Supreme Court, we reached out to Rosenbaum to discuss the history of this unique statute and why it has become even more vital since the end of Roe v Wade.

You’ve called EMTALA “revolutionary” and “the most important American health care law that we have.” Why? What makes this law so special?

It’s the only American law we have that guarantees access to care. For everybody. It doesn’t matter who you are—whether you have insurance or don’t have insurance, what color you are, how much money you have, whether or not you’re disabled. If you come to a hospital emergency department and you believe you have an emergency, they have to screen you. If it is an emergency, they have to stabilize you. The definition of an emergency isn’t that you’re in danger of dying; it includes situations that could lead to severe, long-lasting physical harm. And the decision about what is required to stabilize you—it’s up to the doctor’s medical judgment.

I would say EMTALA is really our only universal health care law.

This law is from 1986. What was happening in the ’70s and ’80s that made EMTALA seem so necessary?

A few things were going on. Back in the early ’80s, a decision was made that the United States was spending too much on hospital care. So Congress changed the payment structure for Medicare [the single largest payer for health care services in the US] to incentivize shorter stays. Pretty soon there were stories emanating from the press about a phenomenon they called “sicker and quicker,” where patients who actually had been admitted to the hospital were getting discharged too soon, when they were still unstable.

Another major problem was that indigent people were not able to get emergency care at all. There were a lot of stories of women being sent away in labor—not just pregnant patients, although that was the story that got the most play. In those days, many fewer women were eligible for Medicaid than are today and it wasn’t as generous. Only very, very indigent women could get Medicaid coverage.

Later in the 1980s, you also helped persuade Congress to vastly expand Medicaid for pregnant women, making it a federal requirement.

There’s no question that poor people bore the brunt, but they were not the only ones. For example, one of the most famous EMTALA cases from that period involved a patient with HIV—nobody would touch him. There have been many cases of fully insured people who, for whatever reason, hospitals just chose not to treat. People who were in a drunk driving accident and were out of control, for example, or mental health patients who were disruptive. Even if the patient was well insured, if they were a handful they would get sent over to the public hospital.

Hospitals are very good at getting rid of people they don’t want. And so, while indigent people were the immediate focus, there’s nothing in EMTALA that limits it to uninsured people. That’s the important thing.

Tell me about one of your pregnancy cases from this era.

One of the cases I worked on in the mid-’70s involved a Black woman named Hattie Mae Campbell who went into premature labor at her home near Holly Springs, Mississippi. She had Medicaid, but the local hospital refused to treat Medicaid patients. The baby was coming out. And the nurse stood at the door of the hospital with her arms spread wide, blocking the entrance, refusing to let her set one foot inside, because once a patient crossed over the line, there were legal arguments to be made that the hospital had begun the admission process. So she gave birth in the parking lot.

And we know that after the birth, the staff still refused admission. They provided a sheet to wrap the baby, then they transferred Campbell and her newborn to another hospital 30 miles away. How much of a factor was racism in these situations?

Race is always a factor—a combination of racism and the fact that people of color were even more poorly insured than white people.

Were there regional differences in how patients were being treated?

There were hospitals all along the Texas-Mexico border that would dress up [security] guards as immigration officials. They would station personnel at the door so you couldn’t come in. But this was going on everywhere. Rich states, poor states, affluent communities, not-so-affluent communities, racist communities, not-such-racist communities. It was happening everywhere because [private] hospitals felt that public hospitals or community hospitals should take care of patients they didn’t want.

You should understand that hospitals were set up to accept only the patients they want. That has been tempered a bit. In the case of emergency care, they can’t do that anymore. But it hasn’t changed that much. A hospital might want me for elective surgery but not my neighbor down the street who’s a Latina who has Medicaid coverage. I mean, they have all kinds of ways to avoid patients they don’t want, right? The type of insurance they take, the doctors they give admitting privileges to, deciding what networks to be part of.

That’s why EMTALA was enacted using Medicare, which is a national program, as the stick. If you as a hospital want to participate in Medicare, and you run an emergency department, then you must do these things as a condition of participation.

Even despite all these horror stories, I still have a hard time imagining how you and other public health advocates managed to get EMTALA passed.

There was no resistance in Congress. None. A Republican Senate, a Democratic House, virtually identical language in both bills. Signed by Ronald Reagan. It really was a different era in the life of the United States.

And then what happened?

Oh, then there was huge hospital resistance. Even though hospitals were very involved in designing EMTALA, it’s a pretty heavy-duty regulation. Over the years, there’s been a lot of resistance both to the requirement that hospitals have to do an initial screening and to the requirement that they have to stabilize the patient before discharging or transferring. There have been thousands of EMTALA cases. The federal government has brought them, private individuals have brought them.

There was a lot of resistance from attending doctors as well. The very first enforcement action was a birth case out of Texas. An OB-GYN who was supposed to be on-call went duck hunting, and when the hospital got a call that a woman had presented in labor, he said, basically, “I’m not coming in for her.”

In 1989, the language of the statute was tweaked to clarify that EMTALA didn’t just apply to the pregnant person, but also to the “unborn child.” Nowadays that goes right to the “personhood” argument of abortion opponents—indeed Justice Alito invoked it during oral arguments. Why was that language necessary then and how is it different from how it is being deployed today?

Because women were still giving birth in parking lots. Women in labor were still being spurned. That language is in there because women who literally had babies coming out of them were being sent away. Everybody understood that you had two medical crises going on here, the crisis of the mother and the crisis of the baby. Everyone, apparently, except the noncompliant hospitals. The concern was not just the pregnant woman, the way it is with some of the emergencies we’re hearing about post-Dobbs, where the fetus is utterly non-viable and the focus is rightly on the pregnant woman.

So the language was clarified: The baby was also a patient. Here on Planet Earth, there are two concerns in labor and delivery, the mother and the baby.

Was there any worry that at some point in the future, anti-abortion people might point to that language and say, as Idaho and Texas are arguing now, “See, EMTALA actually means we can’t do abortions because we have to care for the unborn child”?

That really was not ever the intent. No, no, no, no. We didn’t put that language in there because we were suddenly creating embryonic fetal rights. It’s just a complete misunderstanding of EMTALA.

The pro-choice world crabbed about the language but didn’t fight it tooth and nail because everyone understood the context was labor and delivery. And they were going to lose that [battle]—no member of Congress was willing to listen to nonsense at that point about “clean up your language.” I’ve litigated abortion cases since the Hyde Amendment [the 1976 law banning the use of federal funds for abortion under most circumstances], and I was completely not troubled by that language.

Was it always understood that in some situations, EMTALA might require doctors to do emergency abortions?

This issue of abortion as an emergency procedure has been grounded in EMTALA for a long, long time. There were already cases in the early ’90s of women coming to the hospital with a terrible pregnancy emergency where an abortion had to happen. Or they’d had an abortion that failed, or an incomplete miscarriage that needed an abortion procedure. So this issue [of whether EMTALA requires hospitals to perform emergency abortions] is not new. What’s new is Dobbs. What’s new is what the Supreme Court unleashed when it overturned Roe v Wade.

Pregnancy-related complications that might lead to emergency abortions—for example, when the embryo implants in the fallopian tube instead of the uterus, or when a woman’s water breaks too early for the fetus to survive—are a lot more common than many people realize. But pregnant people end up in the emergency room for all kinds of other reasons, too.

Pregnant people are frequent users of emergency departments. About one in 500 pregnancies goes to an emergency department at some point. Most of the attention has rightly been placed on emergencies where something terrible has happened to the pregnancy itself. But there’s a whole other group of emergencies that aren’t pregnancy-related—it could be appendicitis, it could be a car accident, it could be domestic abuse, it could be COVID.

The tendency when somebody is pregnant is to send them to the emergency department right away because you don’t want to take any chances. And sometimes in these situations, you need anesthesia, you need surgery. Sometimes, unfortunately, as a consequence of treatment you may have a demise. What Idaho has done is to make every pregnant person coming to an emergency department radioactive.

As someone who has spent your whole career steeped in health policy and health law, did you see this moment coming? When hospitals turn away pregnant patients with life-threatening emergencies? When a law as important as EMTALA seems on the verge of being gutted?

It was very evident, from the moment that the Dobbs decision was leaked, that there was just a total, fundamental clash between what states like Idaho with these terrible abortion bans thought they had the license to do and what EMTALA required.

When the Dobbs decision finally came down, my daughter called, incredibly upset. All of her friends were incredibly upset. I said, “Here’s my one piece of advice. You have friends all over the country. The ones who live in any one of the states that are going to impose a complete ban, tell them that they must not get pregnant. And if they do want to be pregnant, they must move away. Because a lot of things can go wrong in a pregnancy, and if anything goes wrong, they’re not going to be able to get emergency care.”

The other thing that I realized right away is that it would be impossible for doctors to practice in these places, and there would be a huge exodus of providers. And in Idaho that has happened. So people like me, who are steeped in health policy, understood immediately what was coming. But where we are now is worse than I could have even imagined it was going to be.

#us politics #news #interview #2024 #mother jones #Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act #dobbs v. jackson women's health organization #us supreme court #Sara Rosenbaum #reproductive justice #reproductive health #reproductive rights #roe v wade #abortions #women's rights

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dakotakazansky · 1 year

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One Thing Right

Word Count: 768 Tags: Mostly Fluff, hint of angst, mentions drinking and driving, wrecking, hospital

Bradley Bradshaw was not an easy child. He was easy to love, but wrangling that boy was easier said than done. He’d started acting out soon after Goose had passed. He’d been kicked out of every daycare as a child. He picked fights, he pushed and shoved, and he tormented the other children. It always ended the same for poor Carole. She’d love him until the end of the world, back, and then some.

Carole had eventually exhausted all the options she could with daycares. That was when she enlisted Maverick and all his squad buddies to help her care for Bradley while she worked.

“Acting like my mama’s little devilish child.”

During his school years he only got worse. Still always picking fights. Always had barely passing grades, was even held back a year or two before he shaped up enough to barely meet passing grades each year.

During highschool was when he finally met her. What she saw in that boy always shocked Bradley himself. He tried his hardest to push anyone and everyone away, including her, but she never faltered.

Bradley had turned 16, and that just enabled him to be more reckless and wild. His first car was supposed to be Goose’s beloved Bronco. Carole never allowed that to happen, Bradley ended up with some beater that should have been dead on the road from how badly he ran it, but it never faltered as well, until one fateful night.

Bradley had been at a party that one of the school kids had thrown when their parents were out of town. He had one too many drinks and made the decision to drink and drive. He’d swerved all over the road, eventually wrecking that beater car into a tree. He wasn’t wearing his seatbelt, and was thrown through the windshield of the car.

That night sobered him up well and fast. When he awoke in this hospital bed, he felt that his right hand was soaked. There he had found her. Devoid of all energy, tear stained cheeks, and sleeping. From that night he decided he wanted to be better, if not for himself, but for her.

“When I was getting crazy, reckless and wild…”

That night should’ve been the night that she threw in the towel and walked out of his life once and for all but she didn’t. She stuck by his side through it all. She went to school, got a voice recording of his lessons, and would grab his schoolwork, and as soon as the day ended she was right back in that hospital with him. When he was finally discharged she’d continue on just like before, but arriving at his house after school.

With her help, his spirits after the wreck were lifted, and his grades greatly improved. She saw something in him, and during the worst of it, she never left. She helped him get to and from PT, even sometimes planning little outings for them. On the particularly hard days, she took him to her favorite ice cream shop, before taking him to the beach, where they would spend their time decompressing from stress, with the sound of seagulls and crashing waves.

That had quickly become a tradition for them. Even on the anniversary of Goose’s death, they’d get ice cream, and then head to the beach. It was only a shock to her on that day, that Bradley had asked her to be his girlfriend. It was an even bigger shock to him when she agreed.

“It took a heart like yours to find its place.”

They’d graduated high school together, and eventually graduated college together. They were stuck together like glue. They ended up back on that same beach that they frequented all those years ago, and that was when Bradley dropped two of the biggest bombs on her. Firstly he wanted to join the Navy, to continue to improve himself. The second bomb he dropped was asking her to Marry him. She of course said “Yes!” They had an extended engagement.

Two years and a deployment later, came to this very moment. Bradley and his now wife, dancing their first dance at their wedding reception. Bradley spinning her is slow elegant circles as he sang their entire first dance song to her, as she giggled those music like giggles that he’d never get tired of. He looked her in the eyes finishing the song, “But I got one thing right.” He placed the most tender yet passionately filled kiss to the soft lips of his now wife, before looking deeply into her eyes, whispering, “You.”

If you like what you read, check out my MasterList, for more one shots or stories.

Tagging some people that may be interested:

@mayhemmanaged @roostette @roosterforme @startrekfangirl2233 @cassiemitchell @lavenderbradshaw @roosters-girl @desert-fern @lovinglyeternal @sarahsmi13s @bobby-r2d2-floyd @bradleybeachbabe

#controlled chaos squad #callsign loki #callsign-loki #Bradley Bradshaw imagines #bradleybradshaw #rooster #top gun imagines #top gun maverick imagines #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #Spotify #DakotaKazanskyStories #DakotaKazanskyWrites #one thing right

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braemjeorn · 10 months

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a long ourank oc presentation because braem is just a writer at heart and soul.

this is honi.

honi is from my fanfic here. would be glad if you read it. would be so happy if you like it. haven't updated it in a while so below are some spoilers for us all(?)

i know. i can't draw the same face. though #Shook is my favourite.

she has longer hair in earlier designs. but then i gave her short hair and thought, oh she looks cooler. like she could be a really cool mom. that's all you need honestly. like why make your ship lovers when you can get kingdom management done with the spiCE that is legal union!

'scuse me. kept the long hair for her younger-tween looks, anyway - wasn't mentioned why in the fic but let's just say that making it to the underworld was life changing. one way or another. she got a scar on her left cheekbone after her twenties (so yeas, i forgot the middle one im sorry).

here's our man because why not. we crave loose hair desha in this house.

im so bad at drawing crowns.

i was keen on the idea of someone to balance desha's personality out, instead of the complete opposites-attract. coz this here is a brash and unapologetic man who mercilessly cackles and taunts bojji and domas at the first meeting. half the fun will be when someone doesn't really flinch at that. tempers him down a bit or countering and riling him up to make firecrackers is what I want to see.

pink ram-lion babies coz why not

honi was nearly engaged before - somewhat more experienced in the field? but things happened and romantic pursuits were shelved before they met. honi acknowledged that he was a man early on in their meeting, but after making up and a few more formal encounters assured her that he was worth being friends with. worth the days-long flight just for a few weeks of teasing, good mead and mushroom pies.

after the winter breakfast but she's still confused.

figuring out she has feelings was a breakdown on a catastrophic level.

but eh, iss all good.

cuties.

not officially engaged but at least the lightning discharge was minimum.

that's all, i guess. some wish-wash, fluffy, alternate-or-future universe musings.

(but then in the manga the ominous naration was like, desha never returned and the underworld fell into ruin *cue queen elinor toppling chess pieces* (overthinking desha's pre-canon shonen arc and how his power is what made him rank 2nd as well as keep order in the multirace, monstrous underworld). in case reclaiming the throne won't work the option is mountain-nymph!honi or passing-farmer-girl!honi. pick.)

(but also the idea that if the canon queen is the persephone counterpart and was on the overworld for her six months deal when the whole season 1 happened is also great. which makes it hilarious if they met during part 2 coz she'd be like 'what tf happened to you?' and heartbreaking if he doesn't remember her. would be fantastic if she's any sort of queen like hiling and stubbornly gets shit done - might have a crisis that she cant find despa or ouken around, or launch some curses to the judge. but I don't know abt canon-queen. only the writer knows what might happen. as long as it isn't some poor excuse of a girl-failure of a villainess miranjo is, I'll be satisfied.)

sometimes i worry if my art will be considered ai work due to my poor anatomy but i swear it's really just a poor concept of anatomy😭 i have so MUCH to improve on digital painting. lighting, shadowing, composition, their size difference—they say the captain is 265 and desha's around the same height in the artbook. honi's like 180 and she's still so tiny! next to him despite being taller than average.

bonus, somewhat suggestive comic below.

double bonus: i think they both agree that domas is a joke and keeping 2000 km distance with miranjo is a must

#aka look at my portfolio #surprise surprise :D #i love wispy hair that consist of mere lines: a discovery #ousama ranking #ranking of kings #王様ランキング #ousama ranking fanart #fanart #braem makes art?#king desha #desha #braem's honi #ranking of kings fanart #canon x oc #oc art #ibis paint x #i'm still anxious abt putting art out #but yeah there

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dragoon811 · 2 months

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I have had a shitty week. Can someone manifest me some good vibes?

Sunday started nice. Monday was a holiday (Family Day) so I got some extra weekend. I was looking forward to it - then Elder Child crawled into my bed just past midnight with a fever.

Monday she stopped eating after lunch (two bites of banana), but was drinking water.

Stayed home Tuesday to help her combat the fever. Wednesday morning she had no fever so my daycare lady was able to take her and I went to work. She kept me updated etc all day.

My gut didn’t like how much she was sleeping so after work I decided to take Elder Child to the children’s hospital. Convinced my husband to pack me a bag, thinking they’d throw Tylenol at us and we’d sit in the waiting room for 8 hours to be told it’s an ear infection/sinus infection…. But I got home to her and her fever returned. (And my period started. JOY.)

Loaded her into the stroller, threw myself in, and off we went! Waited in line at triage.

Triage called us, we weighed her, we talked. And I said I was concerned because she hadn’t eaten, the fever was back, my sister was diabetic and I was starting to worry because when she was sleeping I couldn’t rouse her easily, and her breath smelled and basically asked them to check her blood sugar.

So they did. (This was NOT an enjoyable experience for Elder Child.) it was at 2 - new to how Canadians measure shit, I’m really glad the little screen added in red: “CRITICAL LOW”.

The nurse made a phone call and stressed, surprised, that Elder Child was alert.

Upon the second attempt at a reading because it was low, Elder Child was more prepared. She kicked, she fought, she puked all over herself, and bolted for the emerge doors.

Ok. Skip a second test. (Note: I did not pack spare clothes.)

We were taken right back to a room in the emergency wing. Unsettling.

Then a flurry of people - a lady trying to help Elder Child adjust and calm down. Nurses. Doctors asking questions. (Another note - I have not slept well in 2 weeks, am hearing impaired, and now overwhelmed and scared. Not a good combo.)

Gave Elder Child a nasal spray to calm her (this resulted in another bolting for freedom, also thwarted), another blood check….and once the spray started to work, we tried to prep her for an IV/blood draw.

This was ALSO strongly disliked. More holding her down. I did a lot of crying.

We went through the symptoms - tummy hurting, drinking some water but hadn’t peed in like 6-7 hours, fever, sleeping constantly, not eating. Ended up doing ultrasound, X-ray. Ten bottles of blood (and she FREAKED). Finally got her to pee. Yes, she peed on me.

Refused food. Refused popsicles. Refused juice. Started IV - first sugar bolus. Then hydration. We named the IV robot Frank. Elder Child, loopy from the spray, patted it and told it it was doing a good job. Also, during our walk to ultrasound, said she was Frank’s pet puppy and he was taking her for a walk, see her leash? 😅

Spent the night. (Another note: my daycare kept her sister until bedtime. And we arranged to take her as soon as she woke up because we cannot trust my husband with her care.) Lots more holding her down and blood checks.

Also please note: Elder Dragoon wails and screams when distressed. She was very distressed. I felt really sorry for the staff because I couldn’t calm her.

In the morning she managed to eat a bit! Yay! Tried to disconnect the iv - sugar went down. Hooked her back up. Spent the day trying to get her to drink 100ml of apple juice.

Ended up discharged at almost 4pm - diagnosis: fever, causing hypoglycemia. Apparently kids don’t have as much stores as adults and the fever was burning through what she DID have.

So I spent today waking her every 4 hours and getting her to eat or drink. It took her an hour to drink half a juice box. But by dinner today she was improved and actually had food. And accepted popsicles.

Still have to get her eating or drinking again in about 20min. Then set the timer back.

I just want a full REM cycle of sleep. I am SO fucking tired.

#shut up dragoon811 #baby dragoon the elder #tw hospitals #tw blood #tw sick kid

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omi-papus · 1 year

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Fuck I wish I had it in me to write properly because Im constantly exhausted. But like ok imagine.

AU, where Robin and Al-An actually want to get hit up with Alterra, a little too much.

Renata Goodall is an official Alterra employee, who is totally very qualified to be here and got in through recommendation alone based on her impeccable portfolio and titles that are very real and totally all belong to this inexplicably distracted and danger-prone lady, don't question why her resume claims thirty years of experience, when she looks about twenty-five, that's just a good skincare routine.

Only two days after she's come in, one of the employees of a high-ranking position has had an inexplicable change in behavior. The upper manager of the division, who has a reputation for being lazy, impulsive, extremely unprofessional, known for getting extremely friendly with all employees, especially the female staff, among many other faults, whether he has stolen directly from employee wages is "a theory" if you ask the higher-ups, kept in that position exclusively due to being a long-distance relative of one of the corporate heads. After privately conducting a... personal inspection of foreign cargo that was theorized to be of alien origin, outside of work hours, he's... different.

The hostile human subject was inadvertently killed when attempting to dislodge components from the emergency storage medium, that had incited an electric discharge that resulted in fatal brain damage. This also caused the storage medium's energy to deplete rapidly, initiating emergency procedure of implanting the housed consciousness into the safest nearby receptacle. The functionally uninhabited human body left behind is considered the best option.

It has been noted that the general manager has developed an almost extreme difficulty to walk, concerning low appetite, and an almost manic desperation to avoid the bathroom at all costs, only ever doing it when the threat of contamination of the space becomes imminent. He has also been far less talkative; his previous friendliness had completely vanished, replaced with remarkable rudeness and even worse cluelessness. One thing is decidedly stranger. He reorganized the entire seven-year company plan to be optimized in under an hour, had all salaries updated based on market value as well as counted tax and medical costs, improved a multitude of policies in days, and somehow made the budget dedicated to technical repair of vents, computers, water, and light drop to zero since he has easily fixed every single one of those problems himself.

Alan Whelihan

Is never seen out of the office building.

Does not engage in conversation that is not related to work.

Does not answer personal questions, ever.

Renata feels some type of off around him. Something about the way his veins show from under the pale skin of his wrists, in the milliseconds they show from under his long sleeves looks eerie. It reminds her of something said in a research log she has saved on a pen drive that her sister, who died in an expedition to study the remains of a civilization that was thought extinct, sent her right before she was never heard from again. Declared dead only hours later. She is going to get information about what happened to her at all costs, even if she has to infiltrate this disgusting company, and if she has to beat it out of the superiors themselves, as strange as he was, he was probably her fastest way to the truth. She was sure she only kept a copy of all the information on physical hardware and wiped it all from her PDA. She was absolutely sure she got it all.

Her real name is Robin Ayou. The alien knows this; he had easily hacked the personal devices of everyone in the building; he has learned a lot from it. Her story crumbled under his scrutiny in mere seconds, and he had little difficulty having her pinned in every available facet of her known identity. Now, he has let this slide, for one reason: he needs her close. He needs to extract everything he can from her. Because he's seen something peculiar and terfifying.

On her device theres inexplicably, blurry, low quality, partially corrupted, but unmistakable images of a Sea emperor leviathan.

And while it would be most convenient to just corner the other and get what they want by reason or by force, neither is in a position where they can act out. Both of them are trying to hide their secrets, and they have enough suspicion on them already. So they will have to be more careful about this.

#she only fucks him once he gets an architect body btw #subnautica #subnautica below zero #alan #al an #al-an #robin ayou #al an x robin #human au

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 1 year

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A Crazy Idea [Part Two]

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Pairing: Daniel Kwan x Female Reader, Jackson Avery x Female Reader, Benson Kwan x Female Reader

Characters: Daniel Kwan, Jackson Avery, Female Reader, Catherine Fox, Benson Kwan

Word Count: 1967 // Rating: Teen & Up

Summary: Jackson’s back and he’s finding he might have been replaced in more ways than one.

Tags/ Warnings: Confessions of Love, Jealousy, Friends To Lovers, Exes, Ex Lovers, Fighting, Arguing, Operations,Past Relationships, Open Wounds,

Notes: okay so i’ve not watched the new series so I don’t know kwan that well and apparently his names changed?!? but I stuck with Daniel anyway. Hope this is okay! x

Part two as requested!

Tags: @h-a-j-i-m-e-ru

PART ONE // PART TWO

As the elevator dinged open Y/N sighed and trudged inside. This was her fifth shift in a row and none of them had gone swimmingly. She had had train wreck patients, countless surgeries and to top it off Daniel had avoided her like the plague so she didn't know if she was coming or going with him. The only saving grace was that Jackson was still in the hospital though that was going to change today as she was sure he would be fit enough to discharge. She went to the attending's lounge and got ready for her day before she headed to her floor to get her list of patients. When she arrived Daniel was standing by the nurse's station with a plethora of charts in his hands. He was looking over one he was holding, his brow furrowed over whatever he was reading but it uncreased as she approached and stood next to him. He looked up, his face falling for a second before it quickly fell into a neutral position.

‘Y/N,’ he greeted coolly. Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine at the indifference in his voice. ‘Blue,’ she greeted. She wanted to say more. To tell him about the feelings she had been mulling over for the past few days but she couldn’t. He went back to charting and she could feel the nurses at the station watching them. She was sure they didn’t know anything about them but their being nosy was enough to stave off the topic. ‘Are you on my service today?’ she asked hopefully. ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘I’ve already prepped the ward round. Let’s get started huh?’ ‘Yeah,’ she mumbled and then he was off walking down the corridor to their first patient making her almost have to jog to keep up. Their first couple of patients were relatively simple. He ran through their new stats and figures and examined them for her. Everything was running smoothly though there was no banter or chatter between them.

‘I want an MRI Head for her,’ Y/N mentioned as they left Mrs Larson’s room and moseyed down the corridor. ‘ ‘But her CT didn’t show anything,’ Daniel said. ‘I know but there’s something..off about her. I don’t know what but my guess is she’s definitely had some sort of stroke,’ Y/N said. ‘I don’t know she seemed fine to me,’ Daniel mumbled. ‘Yeah because she was flirting with you,’ Y/N giggled. ‘Oh so she must have had a stroke to be flirting with me?’ he scoffed. ‘No, that’s not what I meant-’ Y/N started but Daniel wasn’t listening he was making a beeline into their next patient's room. Y/N sighed and entered behind him as her eyes took in her next patient. Jackson.

He was packing things into a bag but he turned around as they entered and stopped. He pushed the bag aside and sat down on the bed as he said, ‘hey.’ ‘Hey,’ she said looking at him and then glancing at Daniel who seemed to be enthralled in the chart. She didn’t mind this. Mainly because Jackson knew all about the awkwardness that they had been having after she had acted on his words. He threw her a look and she shook her head slightly. Jackson nodded but before they could go any further Daniel spoke, ‘Jackson Avery, 41, was admitted three days ago with a hand laceration. Had debridement, wash out of the wound with a repair of damaged tendons and ligaments. Broken scaphoid and trapezium supported with a half cast to hand. Inflammatory markers improving with antibiotics.’ ‘Thanks Blue,’ Y/N said with a smile which wasn’t returned.

‘So, am I gonna be allowed to bounce today or not?’ Jackson smirked. ‘Your mother getting on your nerves that bad huh?’ Y/N chuckled. ‘I’m confined to one room,’ Jackson said, ‘she’s not had such an easy target in a while.’ ‘Well, let’s see,’ she said, ‘Blue do you want to assess the wound?’ ‘You don’t want to do it yourself?’ he asked with confusion and a hard edge to his tone. ‘This is good teaching,’ Jackson said jumping in before she could speak. Daniel’s eyes narrowed but he nodded and took a seat beside the bed as Jackson held his hand out.

‘Wound looks fine, sutures are intact,’ Daniel said. ‘And?’ Y/N said looking at Daniel who glanced at her. ‘And?’ he said. ‘And I’m five days post op and the sutures are on my hand,’ Jackson said. Daniel looked at him with a sulk on his face but didn’t answer, ‘so because the skin is so thin the stitches can be removed because the healing will be complete skin deep. Jeez have you been teaching this kid or not?’ ‘I’m not a kid,’ Daniel said. ‘I’m sure he knew it’s just slipped his mind,’ Y/N said coming towards Daniel who leapt up out of the seat. ‘I don’t need you to defend me,’ Daniel said. ‘I’m not,’ Y/N reasoned looking at him. ‘Course not,’ he scoffed. ‘Hey,’ Jackson said warningly, ‘she’s just trying to help.’ ‘Well, I don't need her to. And I don’t need her pretending her students are better than they are just because she wants to impress you,’ Daniel said almost squaring up. Jackson stood up facing him the pair of them seething.

‘She’s your superior,’ Jackson said, ‘you should show her some respect.’ ‘Guys,’ Y/N said but neither of them was taking any notice of her. ‘Oh, are you gonna make me? What are you going to do? Call your mommy,’ Daniel smirked. Then without warning, Jackson pushed Daniel hard. Shock ran through him but as he realised what had happened he leapt forward to shove Jackson back. Y/N was in the middle of them in a flash. ‘Cool it!’ she shouted but they were only watching each other.’ ‘Do that again and I will not be held responsible for what happens to you,’ Daniel said. ‘Oh yeah,’ Jackson challenged. ‘Blue knock it off!’ Y/N said. ‘You’re taking his side?’ he baulked. ‘She is because you’re being a jackass,’ Jackson said. ‘I’m not taking anyone’s side,’ Y/N said with exasperation, ‘just trying to get you both to remember you’re in a hospital! You’re working and you’re a patient for god's sake. You need to knock it off.’

Her voice was loud now and it had seemingly been enough to draw attention as a nurse appeared at the door wondering what was happening, ‘everything okay?’ ‘Fine Sarah,’ Y/N said. ‘Yeah peachy,’ Daniel said moving out of the way. Sarah nodded and left the door but Daniel was soon behind her. ‘Where are you going?’ Y/N asked. ‘What do you care?’ he said and then he was gone. When she turned around Jackson was watching her with a stony expression.

‘You're a terrible best friend, you know that?’ she said as she shoved him down onto the bed, sitting down on the chair in front of him. ‘Me?!’ he scoffed as she started to set up a tray to remove his stitches ‘Yeah, you,’ she said as she wiped his hand clean, ‘you know we’ve been having problems.’ ‘And that’s my fault how? He was being childish,’ Jackson said. ‘And you shoved him!’ Y/N said shrilly. ‘Because he was being rude! You don’t deserve that. In front of me or anyone.’ ‘I don’t think he would've done it in front of anyone else,’ she said truthfully, ‘I think he’s a little jealous.’ ‘What he thinks you're in love with me?’ Jackson said. She hadn’t exactly told him that part of the story. ‘No,’ she said, ‘but he knows we’re close. And lately, he and I haven't been.’ ‘Because he confessed his undying love and you didn't say anything,’ Jackson smirked. ‘No! I just…I just wasnt ready for it then. And he’s avoided me ever since. I mean I wasn’t going to tell him I love him at the nurse's station was I?’ ‘You love him?’ Jackson asked. Y/N looked at him startled. She hadn't even noticed the words had come out of her mouth but the more they ran through her brain the more she confirmed it. She did love him. She hadn’t seen it before. They’d always been close but since he had started working at the hospital it had shifted and subconsciously she had held back, scared it would ruin everything.

‘Yeah, I do,’ she said with a small smile. ‘Then what are you doing here then?’ Jackson asked. ‘You’re hand,’ she started but he shook his head. ‘I can take these sutures out myself,’ he said, ‘as long as you promise I can go home I’ll do anything…I’d probably do a better job anyway.’ ‘Har har,’ Y/N said standing up. ‘So I can go home?’ Jackson said. ‘Sure can. I’ll tell the nurses later,’ she said giving him a quick hug, ‘I’ve got more important stuff to do.’

Jackson nodded and watched as she took off into the corridor in the second search for Daniel. That first day she hadn’t found him but today she was determined. She looked everywhere until it dawned on her where he might be. Finally, she ended up in the basement corridor and found him sitting on the discarded beds that lined it. He looked up as she entered and scowled but he didn’t move as she came to sit beside him. They were silent for a moment before she said, ‘are you okay?’

‘What do you care?’ he asked. ‘I do care,’ she sighed, ‘you know I do.’ ‘Just not as much as I want?’ he questioned looking at her before his eyes turned to his hands which were resting on his knees. ‘You don’t know what I want,’ she said. He looked at her confused but didn't speak which made her sigh, ‘you never gave me a chance Blue. I broached the topic because I was blind. So blind. And Jackson opened my eyes-’ ‘Good old Jackson Avery,’ he scoffed. ‘Yes! Good old Jackson Avery because he pointed out what was blatantly obvious. You have feelings for me. And I’d ignored it because we’ve been friends forever and I didn’t want to ruin anything. But since he pointed it out I realised that I feel the same. And I’m sorry that it wasn’t the big love story you wanted when you said what you said. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be on your level right away but that doesn’t mean I'm not there now.’ ‘How do I know that’s true? That you’re not just forcing yourself to feel that way?’ he said with sadness lacing his voice. ‘Because you told me that the idea of us isn’t that crazy to you. And you’re right. It’s not crazy. It’s right…natural,’ she said, ‘I want to try this Blue. 100%. And if it doesn’t work out then fine…because I never want to lose you. Either way.’

Daniel seemed to take in her words for a moment and then he leaned in and kissed her gently. Her hands cupped his face as she kissed him back. A flutter ran through her stomach as he held her close. Then his pager sounded. He sighed and pulled back with a frown as he pulled it out of his pocket and looked at it.

‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘duty calls.’ ‘I get it,’ she said, ‘come on we’ll go together.’ ‘Okay,’ he said as they climbed off the bed. As they started to walk he slipped his hand into hers causing her to look up at him with a smile. ‘Sorry we wasted our first kiss,’ he said. ‘I don't think you can waste a kiss,’ she replied, ‘not when it’s worth the wait.’

#my writing #a crazy idea #daniel kwan #daniel kwan x reader #daniel kwan fic #blue kwan #daniel blue kwan #benson kwan x reader #benson kwan fic #benson kwan #jackson avery #greys anatomy #greys anatomy fic #requested #requested fic

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clarepreed · 11 months

Text

Heart-to-Heart

Story Content and Summary - 5,691 words. Twenty-four hours with Larissa and Mitchell. A gentler story without any resus. Brief, vague mention of self-unaliving, explicit sex, seizure, first aid, hurt/comfort, light cardiophilia.

Consider reading "Where There's Smoke" first.

“I’m glad we came out here,” Larissa said. Her voice, quieter than it used to be and a little raspy, still sounded much better than it had even a month ago. Mitchell took heart at the improvement.

The local greenway stretched out ahead of them, sunny and bordered with trees. A slight breeze ruffled the leaves and caught strands of Larissa’s long, loose hair. Her cheeks glowed with healthy activity, and she walked with her back straight and her arms relaxed.

Mitchell reached over and took her hand, threading his fingers between hers. “You look like you feel good.”

“I do.” Larissa smiled over at him. “I feel stronger today. How about you? You’ve been looking great, Mitchell. It makes me happy. Do you feel as good as you look?”

“I feel great. I feel better than I did before the fire.” What he told her was the truth; prior to the fire, he’d felt exhausted and hypervigilant. His headaches had been frequent, interrupting things he’d needed and wanted to do. The fatigue? Even worse. Now, despite the fact that he’d been dead for just over half an hour, he felt healthier than he had in a long time.

“I’m so glad, honey,” Larissa said. Her voice sounded thick, and she cleared her throat. When he looked over at her, concerned, she waved him off with her free hand. “I’m fine. I just… I still get emotional.”

Mitchell leaned over, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Believe me, I understand.”

“I love you, Mitchell.”

“I love you, too. Always.”

They looped around, not wanting to get too far out for Larissa to walk back. Mitchell held on to her hand, feeling peaceful as they walked. Others were moving much faster; small groupings on bicycles, families with children, even other couples. But it didn’t bother him. This time with his wife was more than either of them had thought they’d ever have again.

“I also wanted to say,” Larissa started, sounding tentative. “I’m really proud of you.”

“Oh?” He felt his cheeks warm, and smiled at her. “What for?”

“I can tell that you’re approaching our health issues in a much less stressful way. I still feel just as loved, just as cared for, but I know that you aren’t hurting yourself at the same time.” She took a deep breath. “It’s really helped me, too.”

Mitchell opened his mouth to respond, and Larissa gently squeezed his hand before continuing. “I need to apologize to you for something. Not for what happened at the house, I know now that it wasn’t my fault. You understand I was just… very scared, right?”

“Yes, baby. I understand. It was a terrible night. A terrible week.”

“I didn’t tell you something.” She swallowed hard, and when he glanced at her, her eyes were blinking back tears. “Please don’t hate me.”

Mitchell stopped in the path, glancing around. He spotted a bench and gently pulled her toward it. “Come on. Let’s sit down and talk. This sounds heavy.”

When they were seated, their thighs pressed together and their hands linked, Mitchell said: “Before you tell me, understand that I could never hate you. I can’t imagine you doing something that would make me feel that for you.”

Larissa heaved a sigh. He saw the corner of her mouth tremble and he wanted to kiss her, but he squeezed her hands instead. “Well. After we got discharged, the first time I had to get readmitted… I was very depressed.”

“I could tell, baby. I felt so bad for you.”

“I wasn’t thinking logically. If I had been, I would have talked to you about it.”

Mitchell squeezed her hands again, watched her struggle with whatever it was she needed to tell him.

“I love you, that’s never changed. I need to know that you know that. I wasn’t th-thinking straight.” Tears spilled over, rolling down her cheeks and dripping from her chin.

“I know you love me, Larissa. I’ve never doubted that.” Worry finally laid its heavy hand on his shoulder. “What’s making you cry?”

Is she about to tell me she wanted to hurt herself? He told himself to wait, to let her say it, though he wanted to wrap her in a bear hug and never let go.

Larissa took a series of deep breaths and then blurted out: “I thought about asking for a divorce.”

Mitchell’s mouth dropped open and a frisson of shock ran through him.

“I didn’t want to!” she continued, her voice high-pitched and cracking. He watched more fat tears roll down her cheeks. “I just… I thought it might be better for you, for your health, if you didn’t have me to worry about!”

Mitchell shut his mouth, heard his teeth click. He could feel Larissa trembling next to him on the bench. He was so surprised, so taken aback, that he actually felt lightheaded.

She sniffled and closed her eyes, and Mitchell blew out a long, slow breath.

Finally, he measured his tone and said, evenly: “That wouldn’t have made me feel better, baby. I would have… Shit. Honestly, I’m not sure I would have even believed that’s what you wanted.”

“I know.” She squeezed his hands, her eyes reopening, looking at him imploringly. “I’m so sorry. I really wasn’t thinking straight. And thinking about it at all made me even more miserable. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words to you.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t divorce me.” He took a deep breath and let it out as a chuckle, and she blinked at him in confusion. “I’m just laughing because I’m relieved. I thought for a minute there that you were going to tell me you wanted to… hurt yourself.”

He had to clear his throat then, feeling it spasm with a sudden wave of emotion.

Larissa released one of his hands and reached up to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “Oh! No… I mean, I mulled over if it would be better. Dying, I mean. Not because I made it happen, or wanted it to happen. Just if it happened. But I don’t want to die if I can help it, Mitchell.”

“Good.” He released her other hand and then pulled her into a tight hug. He heard Larissa’s breath fly out of her in a rush, and eased off so that she could inhale. “Thank you for telling me. I wish I could have been there for you at the time.”

“You always are, honey. Even if you don’t know it.”

That evening

Mitchell rested next to Larissa in the dark, listening to her breathe. Not yet asleep, her breaths were intentional, calming. He could just see the curve of her hip in the dark. She laid curled up with her back to him, hair fanned out on the pillow.

Mitchell reached out, traced the line of her hip with his index finger. She drew a deep breath, and a few seconds later, she rolled over to face him, her eyes glinting in the dark.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Hey,” he whispered back.

He intended to ask her if she felt up to making love, but she scooted close, reached out with both hands, and pulled his face to hers. He ran his hand up her waist and to the underside of her left breast, his palm pressing firmly. Finding her pulse there could be hit or miss, but tonight he felt her heart already quickened, tapping out a heavy beat beneath her ribs.

Her mouth opened against his, and he parted his lips, feeling her tongue slide between them for a deep kiss. He moved his hand from her heart up to her face, stroking her cheek before he slid his fingers into the pulse point at her throat. There, he could feel her heart thrumming away in a healthy, safe rhythm.

Larissa broke the kiss, tipping her head back, completely exposing her neck to him.

“Take all the solace you need,” she whispered.

Mitchell ran his hand down to her chest and leaned closer, pressing his lips to her carotid. At some point, maybe from the day they’d gotten together, taking her pulse had stopped being simply a reassurance. The sound of her heart, beating faster when he touched her, slowing down when she slept, fascinated him. Yes, it still scared and would always scare him to think of her heart fibrillating or still. But her healthy heartbeat aroused him, comforted him.

“How’s yours?” Larissa murmured, reaching out to press her fingers into his skin. He felt his blood pump against her fingers. “Fast…”

“It’s because I want you.”

“Mmm…” Larissa kissed his mouth, then his Adam’s apple, then the hollow between his collar bones. Mitchell reached for the hem of her tank top, pulling it up above her breasts. Her nipples were already hard; he rubbed the left one with his thumb, then palmed her breast.

“God, I love your breasts,” he gasped, and Larissa chuckled in response, arching her back and thrusting them forward. Mitchell slid down, dipping his head and taking her nipple into his mouth. Her fingers slipped into his hair, stroking his scalp, gently tugging on the roots.

He eased her onto her back so he could attend to her other nipple, and she stripped off her shirt, tossing it to the side. Mitchell kissed his way over to the scar and lump from her ICD, placed a gentle kiss on the skin there.

Larissa pulled at his shirt and he sat up, tugging it over his head before he laid on top of her, supporting his weight on his elbows. They were both still wearing underwear, the thin layers between them as he ground against her, felt her long legs lock around him. Larissa’s body writhed against his, her breath coming in soft pants of arousal.

Mitchell kissed her, his tongue plunging deep into her mouth. She arched her back, her breasts pressing against his chest. He felt her wetness through both layers of fabric. They rubbed their bodies together until they were both gasping, and then Mitchell rolled onto his side, pulling Larissa with him.

He stripped off his boxers while Larissa wriggled out of her panties, and then he pulled her close. She wrapped her leg over his body, exposing her warmth to him.

Mitchell slipped his hand between them and found her soaking. He slid his middle finger inside of her, ground the heel of his hand into her clit. She thrust her pelvis against his palm, running her own hand down his body to find his cock.

Larissa’s head tipped back, and he buried his face in her neck, groaning and pumping his cock into her hand. His lips found her pulse, the blood jumping under her skin as he added another finger inside of her. He left a series of wet kisses down the artery and listened to her pant and moan.

“I want your cock inside me,” she gasped, and Mitchell groaned again. He slipped his fingers out of her and reached around to grip her ass. Larissa guided his erection and he sank into her, reveling in her sigh.

Mitchell met her gaze, holding it until she gasped and squeezed her eyes shut, her back arching and her breasts pressing against his chest.

She clung to him, and he used his hand on her ass to pull her pelvis firmly against his. They rocked against each other, Larissa making soft mewling sounds until he pressed his mouth to hers. Her mouth was sweet, slightly minty, lush and warm.

“Mitchell…”

He slipped his fingers into her cleft, searching for the spot that always seemed to make her eyes roll back in her head. He pressed the tip of his middle finger against her rim, circling it firmly. Sure enough, he felt Larissa tense against him.

“Oh God, Mitchell…” She slipped her hand between them to rub her clit. Mitchell began to thrust harder into her, listening as her mewls became loud moans. His own orgasm was fast approaching, and he pressed the tip of his finger just that bit more firmly.

Larissa stiffened, threw her head back, and cried out. Her walls spasmed hard around his cock, milking him until he, too, slipped over the edge.

“God!” he blurted as he spilled his seed inside of her. She was still shuddering, and she clung to him, breathing hard.

As they came down, they remained twined together, Mitchell slowly softening inside of her.

“Mitchell?” Larissa murmured.

“Yes, baby?”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Mmm… I love you, too.” The next morning

Mitchell woke, relaxed and content before he even opened his eyes. He blinked at the clock on his nightstand, realized he’d actually awoken several minutes before the alarm. He reached over, turned off the alarm, then rolled to look at Larissa.

Her side of the bed was empty, and he blinked in surprise for a few seconds until he realized he could hear water running in the bathroom. As he listened, Larissa’s voice rose in a hum over the sound of the water.

Happiness welled in his chest. She’d done that earlier in their relationship, but he hadn’t heard her hum or sing to herself since they’d been abducted.

“Happy for you, baby,” he whispered.

He listened for several minutes before his bladder forced him out of bed and into the guest bathroom.

When he finished, Larissa waited in their bedroom, dressed in a robe and her hair up in a towel.

He gave her a quick kiss, murmuring an apology for his morning breath.

“I ordered Postmates for breakfast,” she said, smiling.

“Oh?” Morning breath forgotten, he wrapped his arms loosely around her waist.

“From Digby’s.”

“Ooh, what did I do to deserve my favorite breakfast place?” Mitchell kissed her cheeks and her nose, pleased when she giggled.

“Just wanted to see that smile on your face,” she replied, a wide smile on her own face. “Should be here in fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll go get cleaned up then,” he said. He gave her another quick peck. “Thank you!”

Later, as they finished breakfast, Larissa asked: “How long are you working today?”

“Around six hours. Are you still up for the team call at one?”

“Yep! I’m going to work a couple of hours until then and then take off. You know, walk from my desk to the sofa.”

Mitchell laughed. “I do prefer work-from-home days.”

Hours later, despite her energy that morning, Larissa’s face looked pinched and her skin pale.

“You look like you have a headache, baby.” Mitchell stood by her chair and stroked her cheek. “Do you want to go lay down?”

“Am I going to miss anything important?” She sounded anxious, and her hands knotted together in her lap.

“I’ll tell you later, or have that department head fill you in. Would you be able to pay attention feeling like that?” Mitchell crouched beside her and covered her hands with one of his. “Please don’t worry, baby.”

Larissa chewed her lip for several seconds and then nodded. “You’re right. I’m going to go lay down. Please make excuses for me.”

“I will. Call for me if you need me, okay?” Mitchell stood and leaned in for a soft kiss. Then he helped her to her feet. “Love you.”

A half hour later, Mitchell leaned back in his chair, listening to the meeting.

“I mean, with sales projections being what they are,” Mark said. “I think Marketing can—”

A strange cry rang out from the kitchen, followed by a heavy thud and the tinkle of breaking glass. Mitchell pushed back his chair and pulled off his headset, dropping it onto his desk without a word to anyone else in the meeting.

“Larissa?” He called out as he hurried to the kitchen.

He heard her before he saw her; a sputtering sound and what was undoubtedly the thump of her head on the floor. He glanced at his watch to mark the time.

“I would have gotten whatever it was for you, baby,” he murmured, hurrying around the island. As he feared, Larissa lay sprawled on the kitchen tile, her body spasming.

What he didn’t expect was the blood dripping from her arm, spattered and smeared across the floor.

“Larissa! Damn…” Mitchell hurried over, taking a few seconds to pick up the larger pieces of what looked like a broken pint glass. He moved the shards far to the side and sat down, pulling her head into his lap so she wouldn’t keep thumping it on the floor. He reached for her bleeding arm, trying to see if there was any glass still in the wound before he put pressure on it. Her muscles spasmed involuntarily, nearly pulling her arm from his hand.

Satisfied the wound was clear, he wrapped his hand tightly around the gash.

He felt her body strain against his hand. He looked down at her, not terrified yet but certainly worried and sad for her. White-faced, she made a huffing sound through her clenched teeth, forcing out a spray of foamed saliva.

“Shh,” he murmured, stroking her face with his free hand and wiping her chin. “It’s okay, baby…”

He glanced at his watch. There was plenty of time left before he needed to call EMS, though knowing that didn’t make the wait easier. He hated watching her like this; she looked tormented, her mind locked away from him.

He kept a close eye on her for any sign of her ICD delivering a shock. The cardiologist had reassured them that the device was capable of reading the subtleties of heart rhythms and would not shock her during a seizure. Still, an inappropriate shock wasn’t unheard of.

She hadn’t needed to be defibrillated since the night of the fire. The pacemaker itself had apparently come in handy over the past few months, though Larissa had assured him she couldn’t actually tell when it was pacing her heart. He told himself this was good, that this was why she had the device. He still worried, even if he was learning how to properly cope with the worry.

Larissa made a gurgling sound and her body relaxed, the seizure terminating. He could see her chest rise and fall, but he pressed his fingers into her neck, feeling for her pulse. Her blood thrummed fast against his fingertips, but not so fast as to cause alarm.

He didn’t think he could easily roll her onto her side and keep pressure on her arm, so he scooted back and lowered her head to the floor. With one hand under her neck, he opened her airway, leaning close to make sure she was still moving air. Her warm, humid breath caressed his cheek.

Larissa’s blood was slippery under his hand. Mitchell leaned back, reaching for the drawer where they kept clean hand towels. He plucked one out of the drawer and dropped it on her stomach, taking a moment to refold it one-handed. Then he wrapped the towel around the gash in her arm and reapplied pressure, keeping the limb elevated.

Larissa moaned and coughed when he squeezed her wounded arm. He looked back down at her face, stroking her cheek with his free hand. “It’s okay, baby. You’re okay. You take all the time you need. I’ll just sit here with you.”

Mitchell felt his watch and the phone in his pocket buzz simultaneously. He glanced at his watch screen and saw a message from Mark come across.

Is everything okay?

Mitchell took his phone out of his pocket and dialed Mark, placing the call on speaker and setting the phone on the tile. His free hand smoothed Larissa’s hair back from her face. Her skin was damp with sweat.

“Mark…”

“Mitchell?” Mark sounded worried.

“Everything’s okay. Larissa had a seizure and cut her arm. As soon as she’s able to get off the floor, I’m going to take her to urgent care for stitches.” Mitchell watched Larissa intently. She wasn’t quite awake yet, but her uninjured arm came up and wrapped over her stomach, and she mumbled something he didn’t catch.

“Jeez. Do you need any help?”

“Not here, but if you could ask Liam to take care of my schedule for the rest of the day, I would appreciate it. He’ll know if Kieran was working today, please have him update her.”

“Of course. Give Larissa my love, and please, let me know if anything changes.”

“I will, Mark. Thank you, and don’t worry, okay?”

“I’ll do my best. Bye, Mitchell.”

Mark hung up, and a few seconds later, Mitchell heard Larissa mutter: “Is Mark here?”

“Hey, baby…” He cupped her cheek, his other hand still holding her injured arm aloft. “No, Mark’s not here. He was on the phone. How are you feeling?”

She made a small, distressed noise, but didn’t otherwise respond.

“You had a seizure, but you’re okay.” He ran his thumb across her cheek, but she seemed to have lapsed into unconsciousness again. “Everything’s okay.”

Mitchell’s ass was going numb. He shifted, trying to think through his next steps. Urgent care could deal with the cut, he just needed to get her there. She would be much less upset if he didn’t have to call an ambulance, though of course he would do whatever she needed to be safe.

First would be securing the towel on her arm to free him up to help Larissa in other ways. He needed to check her for other wounds, see if she had soiled herself. Then, if she was awake enough to cooperate, clean her up and change her pants. He also needed to haul the folding wheelchair out of the coat closet.

Larissa stirred, murmuring: “Ow…”

“Hey, baby. Can you tell me what hurts? Is it your arm, or something else?” Mitchell used his free hand to grope her skull, looking for lumps or bloodied areas. Her scalp felt sweaty, but his fingertips came away clean of blood.

“Bad headache,” she whispered, her brow furrowing. This wasn’t unusual, either. If he took her blood pressure right now, it would probably be high.

“I’m sorry. You cut your arm, okay? I think urgent care can handle it, and I’ll take you there in a little bit.” He watched as her head tipped to the side, and she wrapped her uninjured arm over her stomach.

“Is it time to go to the office?”

“Is it time to…? No, baby, we don’t have to go to the office. Mark and Liam have everything handled.”

“Oh…” Larissa peeled her eyes open and turned her head back toward the ceiling, squinting up at him. “I had a seizure?”

“You did.” Mitchell scooted over a bit, retaining his grip on her injured arm, so that he could lean over and kiss her forehead. “You’re okay.”

“Fuck…”

Mitchell laughed. It wasn’t that Larissa never cursed; she just didn’t curse anywhere near as much as he did. He couldn’t actually remember the last time she said “fuck.”

“I’m sorry for laughing, baby. You sound like me.”

“You rubbed off on me.” She said, sounding more like herself. He watched her take a deep breath, cut short by a cough. “Ugh.”

“Do you need your inhaler?” He watched her take another breath and then nod.

“Yes, please. It’s…”

“In your purse? I think I saw your purse on the breakfast table.”

“Yeah…”

“Okay.” Mitchell lowered her arm, peeking under his hand to see how it was doing. His hand had been bloody when he pressed the towel to her arm, so it was difficult to tell what was a stain from his hand and what was bleed-through. He finally decided the bleeding had slowed or the stain would be much larger.

He laid her injured arm on her stomach, wincing when she gasped in a sharp breath. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m going to get your inhaler and then I’ll wrap your arm.”

“It stings,” she murmured, blinking up at the ceiling.

Mitchell found her inhaler in her purse and brought it over. “I think you probably need to sit up for this, right? Do you want me to carry you to the sofa?”

Larissa considered his question and then shook her head. Her face flushed red. “No… I’ll mess up the sofa.”

“We can clean the sofa.”

“The floor is easier.”

“Okay. I’m going to help you sit up, then. Are you ready?” Mitchell reached down and squeezed her shoulder. She looked flushed and exhausted.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Larissa looked up at him, her brow wrinkling. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he reassured her. “I timed the seizure and just sat with you. The blood threw me off for a minute, but I’m fine. It’s sweet of you to ask, baby.”

Mitchell slid his arm under her shoulders and used the other to stabilize her injured arm, sitting her upright. He watched her face, waiting to make sure she was okay before he pulled back. “How do you feel?”

Larissa held herself up, though she slouched over her injured arm. “I’m so tired, Mitchell.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Here…” Mitchell checked the floor for glass and then scooted her around until she was leaning back against the kitchen island. He watched her take a puff from the inhaler, her lips pursing as she kept the medication in her lungs. After she took the second puff, he retrieved the inhaler from her and dropped it back in her purse.

“Will you be okay while I go get the ACE bandage and the wheel chair? I want to wrap your arm and then wheel you to the bathroom, okay?”

She nodded sleepily. “Yes. Thank you…”

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then climbed to his feet.

It didn’t take long to find the bandage and get the folding wheelchair out of the closet. When he returned, Larissa had her hand wrapped around the bloodied towel and her eyes closed, head tipped back against the cabinetry.

She heard him approach and cracked open her eyes. “I don’t suppose if we wrap this up now, we can just go later?”

Mitchell kneeled beside her. “I think that might be a good way to get an infection, baby.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” She extended her arm, wincing. Now there was a much larger, fresh stain on the towel, which only confirmed to him that he needed to take her to the clinic.

He removed the clips from the ACE bandage and started wrapping the rolled bandage around her arm and the towel. “Let me know if this feels too tight. I don’t want to cut off the circulation to your hand.”

When he finished, he had her wiggle her fingers, and he touched both of her hands to feel for temperature differences.

“Thank you, honey.” Larissa sighed, sounding miserable. “Could you put a trash bag down in the chair so we don’t have to clean it? I pissed all over myself.”

“Yeah, no problem.” When he finished, he helped her up off the floor and into the chair, making sure her feet were on the footrests before he wheeled her toward the bathroom. “Let me wash my hands and I’ll get you some fresh pants. Unless you’d like a whole new outfit. Or pajamas?”

“Out in public in pajamas? I don’t know…”

“It would be comfy…” He leaned around and waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Mmm. Pajamas, please.”

After the trip to urgent care

“Wait here, baby.” Mitchell pulled into a parallel parking space and turned the car off. Larissa blinked sleepily at him, looked around, and then relaxed back in her seat. Her arm was cleaned, stitched, and bandaged, and tucked carefully against her stomach. Urgent care had given them a packet of instructions and a reminder to call Larissa’s neurologist. “We don’t have any ibuprofen. Just lock the doors after me, okay?”

Mitchell waited until he heard the locks click and then headed into the pharmacy.

While he was waiting in line, he texted Mark and Samuel.

Headed home. She’s okay. Needed ten stitches. Still pretty groggy from the seizure, but I think she’s okay.

They must have been waiting for him to check back in, because within thirty seconds, he had texts from them both.

Samuel: Ouch, I am glad she’s okay. Please tell her I love her!

Mark: God, it’s always something, poor thing. Give her a hug for me. And take a deep breath!

Instead of going straight back to the car after he checked out, he walked two doors down to Larissa’s favorite coffee shop. They had a drink she said tasted “like Cinnamon Toast Crunch on steroids.”

He ordered two, decaf, even though it wasn’t his usual drink. Then, he walked out to his SUV and tapped on the passenger side window, drinks in hand.

Larissa stirred, turned, and blinked at him through the glass. He watched a slow smile break across her face, and then she unlocked the door and opened it, reaching for one of the drinks with her good hand.

She brought the coffee close to her nose, inhaled, and said: “Oh my God, this is amazing. Thank you!”

It was the most alert she’d sounded so far, A grin spread across his own face. “Thought you needed a pick-me-up.”

She spent the next several hours deeply asleep on the sofa, covered in their softest afghan, her hair all over the place. Mitchell cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom, checking on her frequently. He made sandwiches for dinner, wrapping hers up until she was ready to eat.

He was glad she was resting, knew this was normal for her and that she’d be feeling better soon. He sat in the arm chair near the sofa, reading the news and watching the clock. It was, perhaps, a little selfish, but he missed her. He wanted to talk about the things he was reading, snuggle close to her. Watch the expressions play out across her face. Right now, Larissa lay with her lips slightly parted, face relaxed, still aside from the regular rise and fall of her breath.

Eventually, she stirred. He leaned back in his chair, watching as her mouth worked and her eyelids fluttered. When she opened her eyes, he said: “Hey, baby. I’m right here.”

Larissa yawned and stretched, grunting when she forgot about her injured arm. She pushed herself up onto her good arm and cleared her throat. “How long have I been asleep? What time is it?”

“After seven.”

“Ugh.” She rubbed her eyes and sat up the rest of the way, swinging her legs off the side of the sofa.

Mitchell got up and sat next to her. “I think you needed it.”

“Probably.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry for dropping a bomb in the middle of your day.”

“Nothing you need to apologize for. I’m so sorry your arm is hurt. Samuel and Mark have been checking in on you.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” She yawned and lifted her head. “I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“Are you okay to walk?”

“I’m okay. Just sore. Feels like I fell down a short set of stairs.”

Mitchell cringed and kissed her temple. “Are you hungry? I made sandwiches… Not particularly fancy, but I wanted to keep an eye on you more than I wanted to cook.”

“Thank you, Mitchell. I am hungry, now that you mention it.”

Mitchell helped her up off the sofa, watching to make sure she remained steady on her feet. He could see that she looked more alert than she had even before the seizure. She wasn’t as perky as she’d been first thing that morning, but he’d take it. Mitchell kissed her cheek and watched as she shuffled into the bedroom.

Satisfied, he hurried into the kitchen to grab her a glass of water, the bottle of ibuprofen, and the turkey sandwich from the refrigerator. He sat them on the coffee table, and then sat back down on the sofa, listening in case she called out or needed his help.

Larissa returned in under five minutes, though to his surprise she had a gift box in her hands. He raised his eyebrows at her, and she smiled shyly before handing the box over.

“I’m sorry it’s not wrapped.” She sat beside him, her cheeks turning pink. “Go ahead and open it. It’s an early anniversary present.”

“What made you think of it now?” he asked, looking down at the white box in his hands.

“I just think it’s something you’d enjoy now.” She nudged him with her knee. “Open it.”

Mitchell slid his finger around the box, breaking the tape before lifting the lid. Inside, he saw two smaller boxes. Both had the brand name “Littmann” on them, but it wasn’t one he recognized.

“Either one,” Larissa prompted.

He removed one of the box lids and was surprised to see a stethoscope nestled inside. Larissa reached over and lifted it from the box.

“Listen,” she said, moving to put the earpieces in his ears. He dipped his head, still uncertain what was happening. Then she scooted her body close, took the bell of the stethoscope, and slipped it under her shirt. She flinched slightly, giggled, and then met his gaze.

He heard her heart.

Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub.

She took a deep breath, then held it. The sound sped up, and he darted his eyes to her face. She took a series of slower breaths, and the sounds decreased in speed.

After a while, she reached for his hand and pressed his palm over the bell. He could feel the weight of her breast against his hand.

Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub.

Larissa opened the second box to reveal another stethoscope, and slipped the earpieces in her ears. She warmed the stethoscope bell with her palm, then slipped it underneath his shirt, tracing his skin with it until she found his apex. Then her eyes found his, and she smiled.

Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub.

Mitchell fell in love all over again.

The next Larissa & Mitchell story: Lazarus Sleeps.

#medical drama

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annegraves · 1 year

Text

Your name is Delores

✨the angel herself✨

Five x Delores!reader

A.N: Hi guys! I know its been a long time but finally my exams or over! So I can finally work on stuff like this. I hope you like it, I don’t really know how to write fan fiction so i hope this is enough. And if you don’t like it tell I love to learn how to improve. Part 2 coming soon.

Edited on:31/12/23

Text key:

-Normal

-Thoughts

-(Author's comments)

、ヽ｀、ヽ｀个o(･_･｡)

Waking up in hospital room is tough, not remembering anything is tougher. But you got thru it.

Well at least so far. You suspected that your family was rich, I mean if no one was at the hospital when you woke up and the bill was paid for, most likely, right?

Being discharged you learned a few things.

- [ ] your name is (Y/N) Delores (L/N)

- [ ] You have amnesia

- [ ] You have a family waiting for you

Surprisingly, the thing that freaked you out most was the third realisation.

You were scared they would judge you. And they probably won’t judge you-I mean, of course not they’re family- But what if they would.

To calm yourself down you decided to go and buy yourself some new clothes. If you looked nice they couldn’t say anything, right?

...Right?

You walked in to a store, that seem not so famous-there were about three people including yourself (and one of them was a worker) - to find clothes to meet your family. Wow that’s a weird sentence, 'Meeting my family’ something you never thought was possible in your vocabulary.

As you stepped into the mostly empty store, you realised something. You had no money. But you can’t meet your family looking like... well.. that. So, shoplift it is. Thinking like that you walked to the back-where the employees go.

'Huh. This is easy', you thought, 'I should do this more often'

Out of nowhere an employee come out to stop you, “Can I help you?” They asked.

Oh shit, so this is why people don't steal

“Umm no I’m fine”, you’re eyes focused at the door behind them. “I was just looking.”

'Of course they were not leaving. ' those thoughts ran though your head. You were a suspicious looking teen, looking more at the door then the person front of you.

She was about to confront you when, “Can you help me? I can’t find these pants.” A lady with blonde hair said.

Thank you blonde lady with terrible fashion sense, I mean seriously long khakis? What can you pair that with? (I’m sorry idk anything about fashion to be calling that a fashion disaster)

“Why of course.” They said in a polite manner before giving you a look.

You ran into the back room. Couldn’t risk another incident like that to happening again. As soon as you got in you dropped your things and tried to find some clothes that the store might not remember, like: maybe lasts stock clothes or returns.

Something you forgot to think about was that the door of the employees room was thick, very thick, and had trouble opening (that’s why it was always open). Anyway, as you searched you heard a loud “Thud!”

"Ah shit."

You could only look in horror as the door lock you in. You got up- from searching-and tried your best to open the door, but nothing. At best that door would have felt like the wind hit it, i.e. nothing.

Not to mention after awhile the power went out. So you were sitting there with no ventilation, no light. Alone. It was creepy to say the least.

Luck was not on your side today.

You closed your eyes. Maybe if you do all of this will all go away? You closed your eyes and ears and curled yourself up in a ball.

I just wanted see my family

Suddenly you heard a very loud noise, louder than a gun, near your ear. It only lasted a second but it was enough to make your ears ring.

When you opened your eyes and unplugged your ears.

...

Everything was gone: the building, the people, even the room you were just in.

Gone.

Something took them?

You were in shock “What is this?” You said out loud. “Hello is anyone there?!” You shouted, loud, the loudest that you can remember. (lol)

You walking out and do the same thing, shouting, hoping someone could explain this to you, but nothing, there was no one.

“I guess this is my life now.”

#five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #five hargreeves x reader #tua five

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stwritings · 2 years

Text

Funny Seeing You Here

Synopsis

Long time in-patient y/n was looking forward to her upcoming discharge date from the Hawkins Memorial Hospital. That is, until she became acquainted with an unlikely familiar face, Eddie Munson.

Author’s Note

This is a fix it fic following Stranger Things season 4, volume 2. In this fic, we’re going to forget the fact that the Duffer Brothers decided to delete Eddie from the series. :-) These events take place after the battle in the upside down. I’m also choosing to change the ending of season 4 by having the issue with the upside down resolved, therefore, Hawkins is not plagued by the massive earthquake that resulted in new portals being opened.

What To Expect

Slow burn, angst with a happy ending, fluff, smut in later chapters. ♡

Series Warnings

Mentions of mental health struggles, SMUT (in the later chapters, 18+ to read this story), angst with a happy ending, canon-typical violence.

Chapter 5

Order had been restored, and y/n couldn’t be happier. Her and Wayne were closer than ever, and she noticed a significant improvement in her overall mood since being granted the privilege to go for walks again. Everyday at varying times, she would meet with Wayne by the front desk, changing up the location of their strolls based on how she felt that day. The third floor was deemed the quiet floor. It was shared between the maternity ward and her unit, so if she felt like a more calming environment where she had an excuse not to talk, that would be her go to.

The second floor was usually more rambunctious, it was essentially just a bunch of rooms for patients in stable conditions usually there for a short stay. This floor saw a lot of traffic, and the overall atmosphere was very chipper as patients’ families and friends were permitted to visit. The second floor was also home to many older patients, who y/n loved conversing with. They were always so charming and friendly. This floor also had the most vending machines, and arguably the best snacks. She was a sucker for salty treats and never turned down the opportunity to get a bag of pretzels along the way.

Despite being overjoyed about her recent schedule change, she couldn’t help but notice just how quickly 30 minutes passed. Before her recreation time was cut short, she would sometimes be out and about for over an hour.

‘Be grateful.’ She kept reminding herself.

One morning, while doing laps around the 3rd floor with Wayne, an unfamiliar sound interrupted their conversation. Y/n was searching for the source of this repetitive jarring sound and realized it was a pager going off. Startled by the sudden shrill beeping, it took a second for Wayne to realize the sound was coming from his pocket.

“Oh, geez. I always forget I have this thing” he chuckled, grabbing it from his pocket and attempting to work the device. “They really don’t make navigation easy on it either… Um…” He pushed a few bottoms before he finally got it to stop beeping and paused to read the message.

He took a sharp breath in, before turning to y/n. “You’re gonna kill me...”

She was caught off guard by his sudden change in demeanor and reluctantly followed him as he started inching away from her, heading towards the elevator. She squinted her eyes at him as she waited for him to finish his sentence.

“We’re gonna have to cut today’s walk short.” Y/n could tell he was bracing himself for her reaction as he stared at her, scrunching his face in anticipation.

“What?? Why?? We’ve barely been out for 10 minutes!” She protested.

“I knoooow, I’m so sorry, there’s some kind of filing emergency going on, I-” He threw his arms up and rolled his eyes, aware of how dramatic this sounded.

“You’re kidding… Wayne that’s-“

“Y/n... Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I’m already mentally preparing for the mayhem waiting for me. The ladies working the ER reception scare me and I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t get there pronto.”

Y/n chuckled, the thought of a 6’3, burly man being afraid of a small group of short middle-aged women was ironic. She knew exactly what he meant though, those ladies were very intense in the face of adversities. Just as she was about to admit defeat and step into the elevator, she stopped in her tracks. An idea popped into her head.

“What if I kept walking and meet you back at the unit?” She suggested in a nonchalant tone.

“What? No, absolutely not, hop in.” he said, gesturing to the elevator.

“Why not? We’ve established the floors I’m allowed to be on and there’s been no reason to believe that there’s any prevalent danger. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I lose my job???” he exclaimed, giving her the side eye. “Losing a patient in the hospital isn’t exactly something I want to be known for around here. It’s not happening, now come on.” He walked onto the elevator and held the doors open by blocking the censors with one hand.

“Or…” y/n continued “I get my 30 minutes of allowed time to walk around and am back before anyone even notices!”

“Would you just get onto the elevator!!” Wayne’s anxiety was getting the best of him, she could tell. She wasn’t proud of this next move, but she knew how to get him to agree.

“Please Wayne… When have I ever given you a reason not to trust me.” Out came the puppy dog eyes and pout.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” He warned, knowing damn well she knew he had a soft spot for her guilt tripping tactics.

“20 more minutes. Just this once. I’ll be back before you know it. Please…” A last-ditch attempt that seemed to have worked. A few seconds later, Wayne sighed and removed his arm from the doorway of the elevator.

“If you’re not back in the time it takes to watch a Golden Girls episode…” He trailed off, interrupted by the doors closing in front of him.

Just before they shut, y/n yelped out “I won’t let you down!!”.

The second she lost sight of him, y/n didn’t waste a second shuffling away from the elevator. Wayne was putting a lot of trust in her, and she had no intentions of letting him down. Feeling a rush of excitement, she thought ‘Why not switch it up.’

She had been taking her walks mainly on the 3rd floor over the last few days, and with this sudden burst of energy, she felt prepared to handle the liveliness the 2nd floor had to offer. She high-tailed it down the stairwell, finally reaching the door with a big “2” painted on the wall and swung it open. She was met with slight disappointment when she arrived.

Crickets. You could hear a pin drop. It was a bit of an eerie feeling, seeing a normally active room so quiet, void of life. Why wasn’t anyone around? Of all her time spent at this hospital, she had never seen this floor be so quiet. She wandered around and happened upon a calendar. Monday.

Had she never been down here on a Monday morning? The lack of visitors made sense, most people were still at work or school at this time. ‘This is fine’ she started convincing herself. ‘When life gives you lemons…’

Free of judgmental stares or the possibility of bothering people, y/n took the current state of the floor as a sign to be her most authentic self. She let her body lead the way, and started swaying as she walked, alternating between skipping and running.

The only thing that could make this experience better was music. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to sway the staff into letting her bring her Walkman with her during her stay, so she was left with the memory of her music library to get her by. Her mind jukebox, as she often called it. Y/n was very passionate about music and could often be heard humming quietly to herself.

Today was no different, the lack of normal chatter from the visitors made for the perfect acoustics in the hallways, her voice reverberating against the empty hallway walls. As she walked past a room near the back of the unit, she heard a faint hoarse voice. “Black Sabbath?”

She quickly scanned the room trying to assess who this voice belonged to, only for her eyes to land on none other than Eddie Munson. He was laying in a bed looking a little beat up, Jell-o cup in hand with a shy look on his face.

It had been weeks since she had heard any news updates about him, and despite knowing he was being treated here, she was still surprised to find him no less than 5 feet away.

“Air Dance” she responded with a soft smile.

“That’s arguably their worst song” he replied with a little grin on his face. Her eyes grew wider, and she let out a scoff. Normally, y/n hated snobby self proclaimed music enthusiasts, but she could tell by the smile radiating from his face that this wasn’t the kind of comment intended to be rude or start an argument. It was rather an invitation to some playful banter.

“It happens to be my favorite song” she stated matter-of-factly, raising an eyebrow as she took a few steps forward, now standing in the door frame of his room.

“I guess we can’t all have good taste” he said in a playfully challenging tone.

Before y/n could come up with a clever response, she was shooed away by one of the nurses entering the room, presumably to tend to Eddie. He was still hooked up to a few machines and had pretty noticeable injuries.

She slowly backed out of the room and into the hallway, her face flushed with color over this short but sweet interaction she had just had.

As she turned to start walking back to her unit, only a few minutes left to spare before she’d be late, she could have sworn seeing through her peripheral vision, that Eddie never took his eyes off her.

Chapter 6

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#stranger things eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #fix it fic #angst #eddie munson fanfiic #eddie munson series #fluff #slow burn fic #stranger things s4 #st4 spoilers

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