#the heart eyes on that kid are INSANE it makes me SICK!!!!

[mangosaurus]

can we talk about this. can we please talk about this.

[darkbluekies]

A little game

Yandere!king oc x fem!reader

Summary: Edmund going insane when he finds you hurt and unconscious and swears to kill everyone in town.

Warnigns: behading, insanity, blood, guns, abuse, arson, everything like that

Word count: 2.3k

His eyes wander over your lifeless body. Numerous signs of brutal harm can be seen on your body. He can't even imagine what you've been put through, and when he tries he feels sick.

“Kill them all.”

His secretary widens his eyes.“But … your majesty-”

Edmund turns to him with eyes burning with rage. “Do I speak another language?!” he screams. “Kill them all! Every single one of them!”

Maids look at each other in fear, the secretary gulps. Edmund can feel his body tremble. He wants to grab the glass bottle on the bedside table, break it and plunge it deep into someone's, anyone's, heart. Wants to see blood, wants to kill. 

His hammering heart thumps in his ears. A chanting “kill them all, make them pay” repeats in his head, sounding better and better each time.

It all had happened so quickly, and yet so slow. You were kidnapped on a town visit and hurt by someone, badly. A knight had found you after hours of search lifeless in the forest, body torn and beaten. Edmund had thought that you had died. The few moments of uncertainty had felt like hours. Millions of thoughts had passed through his head. What would he do if you were dead? Could he live without you? Why did it hurt so much? Why couldn't he breathe? Was he dead too? Why was he alone again?

But now he was only angry. Someone had hurt you … and the entire town hid the truth, protected the culprit. Edmund didn't care who had done what, everyone was guilty. They are no individuals, only a herd of characterless peasants. And he hates them all.

He wants to touch your face, but he doesn’t dare to. He’s scared that if he touches you, he’s going to kill you. His touch is deadly. You’re already so fragile, so vulnerable. 

“Take families, one by one”, Edmund starts, still shaking, “and bring them here.”

“What are you going to do, your majesty?” the secretary asks, sounding worried. 

“Give this castle a fucking paintjob.”

His hands are bloody — they’re never bloody. He never gets down and dirty, always watched. His heart is beating even quicker, but he can’t seem to get enough. He can’t get rid of the unimaginable anger he feels. It’s like a beast has taken control over his mind and soul and given him a new unclenched blood thirst. Every time he lets his fist make contact with a poor peasants body he sees your broken face in front of him. It makes him hit them more, with even more force. He enjoys it, he finds. 

“Your majesty, please!” the man he’s holding begs. “Please spare me, I’m sorry!”

“What are you sorry for?” Edmund questions harshly. “What can your filthy little peasant heart be sorry for, huh? Was it you who abused my wife?!”

“No! No, your majesty, I didn’t-”

His voice echoes across the court yard. “Then who did?! Who was it?! Who are you covering up for?!”

Before he has the time to answer, Edmund has thrown the man against the castle’s wall with such force that he cracks his skull open on the harsh, sharp stones. Blood splatter. Edmund’s heavy breaths are enough to cause his head to spin. He runs a bloody hand through his black hair. Bodies are lined up against the castle’s walls, stacked on top of each other.

Edmund turns to the knights standing a few meters away from him. 

“If no one fesses up I will kill the entire town!” he shouts. “Every single one!”

“Your majesty, if you kill everyone, who will you rule over?” a knight asks. 

In a swift motion, Edmund grabs a gun from the nearest knight and shoots him. 

“Does anyone else have idiotic questions?!” he screams, directing the gun around. “Huh?! Ask them now so we can get them over with!”

To show that he’s not kidding, he shoots a bullet straight up into the air. None of the knights answer. Edmund scoffs and throws the gun to the side. He catches a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the window and flinches. He didn’t need his mirror to let him know that he’s drenched in blood and sweat. The look inn his eyes is what is startled by. He looks … animalistic. There’s no humanity left in his ice blue eyes anymore. He can feel himself drift into insanity, but he can’t stop it — maybe he doesn't want to.

“Bring the next group”, he demands.

“They are fleeing into the woods, your majesty”, a knight says. 

“Then stop them?!”

“How, your majesty?”

He thinks for a moment. Head spinning, heart thumping in his ears, tast of blood in his mouth. 

“Burn it all down”, he decides. “Burn every possible way out. Burn them in, if necessary.”

The knights nod. Edmund turns back to the poor body on the bloody gravel and picks him up by the collar, carrying him to the others. 

“Isn’t it pretty? The color?”

His secretary tilts his head as he studies the flames in the distance. “I suppose so, but the smell is God awful.”

“Smells like victory to me.”

Edmund turns away from the window, eyes darting to all the things scattered all over the floor. His office is near destroyed. Things lay broken everywhere after his tantrums. He used to value his materialistic obsessions highly, but now they’re not worth a dime to him. Nothing is. Only you. He has to avenge you rightfully. 

“How is my darling doing?” he asks and gives the secretary a stern gaze. “You know to tell me the second she awakes, right? If you don’t, I will drag you out on the court yard and put you with the other bodies.”

“Of course, your majesty, I will come running right away”, the secretary answers. “You can rest assure. I won’t betray you. Besides, her skin is healing. You won’t have to see her grotesque marks.”

Edmund nods. “I want to see her now. To see if you are telling the truth.”

The secretary leads Edmund through the large, dark halls. The people passing him makes his blood boil. They haven’t done anything, but he’s ready to lash out in case anyone gives him a foul look. Anyone showing any signs of distrust need to be killed. Roughly. He will not be made a fool.

A maid opens the door to your shared chamber and Edmund walks over to the bed. For a few seconds, he doesn’t believe that it’s you sleeping under the white sheets. You look so awfully small in the big bed, so unbelievably broken. Your skin looks so weird compared to the white sheets … washed out, somehow. He hates it, absolutely despises it all. 

Edmund sits down on the side of the bed and takes your hand in his, sighing heavily at the state of you. Seeing your frail figure makes him even madder. Why aren’t you waking up? What have that creature done to you to make you look like this? His secretary was right, however, you seem to be doing a bit better. Your body heals. So why aren’t you waking up?

“I will punish them”, he whispers and kisses your forehead. It must be one of the sweetest gestures he has done since you disappeared and came back in whatever state you are in now. “I promise. I love you so much, my darling, I will make them pay.”

The guillotine is working over time. The blade is covered in blood, heads everywhere. Edmund has realized that all people about to be beheaded has either of three possible reactions. Pleading and crying, begging for forgiveness, and emotionless and accepting. He likes to guess who will have what reaction, and when he guesses right he gives himself a clap on the shoulder. He’s standing on the balcony, leaning forward against the railing with his arms resting on it. Smiling. It’s all a big game for him. Like how hurting you and covering up the deed is a big joke to them. But now he’s the hunter, and they’re the pray. They are the punchline in his joke. Not the other way around. His blood boils when he thinks about what the ones hurting you must have been thinking while performing such a merciless act. Were they thinking about him, about how mad he would be? Thinking: “we will have caused a reaction to form in him but he will not know who have done it”, in that case they were wrong. Everyone is punished for their stupid game.

“Please, please!” a woman screams, about to be beheaded. “I know who it was!”

Edmund freezes. 

“Wait!” he shouts to the man holding the rope controlling the blade. 

Edmund hurries down to the court yard and walks over to the woman with her head in the locked hole. He grabs her chin roughly, trying to direct her head up without luck. 

“Who was it?” Edmund spits. “Tell me their names.”

She seems to have lost all speaking ability when nearby Edmund. All color is drained off her face. She faints. Angrily, Edmund lets go of her chin, grabs the rope and lets the blade fall. Her head falls down on the gravel and rolls towards the others. No one says anything.

“Your majesty!” he hears his secretary shout. “The queen is awake!”  

Edmund feels his entire body go numb. He spins around, looking at the secretary in the doorway with large, shocked eyes. He runs after. 

You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake.

“Get out of my fucking way!” Edmund growls and shoved a maid into the wall when she tries opening the door for him.  

You’re laying in the bed, but your eyes are open! Edmund runs over and throws himself at you, hugging you tightly. You start to cry the second he wraps his arms around you and brings your face into his shoulder. He can’t believe that he’s holding you again, to feel your body tremble under his fingertips. He wants to cry. 

“It’s okay”, he whispers and caresses your hair as you sob against his neck. “Everything is okay, my dear. I’m here now, I will not let anything happen to you.”

He can feel his entire body relax. He has you back. Your shaking body feels so … alive. 

“Does it hurt?” he asks. 

You nod against his shoulder and try to pull back, out of his embrace. He doesn’t let you, he only moves you closer. What if you slip away when he lets you go?

“Not yet”, he whispers. “Stay with me a bit longer.”

His hands grab at you, trying to reassure himself that you are, indeed, alive. 

When he does let you go, your eyes are red with tears. He puts his hand on your cheek, wiping your tears carefully with his thumb. 

“I’m so sorry”, he mumbles and feels a stone in his throat. “I really am.”

“Your hand smells like blood …”, you whisper.

He becomes cold as your eyes start to widen in fear.  

“No, no, no!” he says quickly and grabs your face in his hands. “I will stop. Is that what you want? Hm? I-I’ll stop, I’ll show mercy to the ones left if you just give me the name of who … who hurt you. Okay? Please?

The name you give is one he’s familiar with. It’s suddenly clear why everyone wanted to shield the guilty one. His father is one of the richest men in the town. Edmund has yet to kill him. 

“I will take care of him”, he says. “Everything he did to you, I will do to him. I promise. Not more, not less.”

Your shaking hand takes his. Edmund gulps and lifts your intertwined to his lips and kisses. 

“I love you”, he whispers. 

“What is that?” you ask and point towards the forest.”Why is it so black?”

Edmund hesitates and hugs your other hand tighter. They have cleaned the entire court yard and scrubbed the walls so that you won’t have to see any of the horror that has occurred while you were unconscious, but he can’t replace the forest with a new one.

“A wildfire happened while you were unconscious”, he lies. “It was just fixed. Nothing to worry about.”

He continues to walk with you, hand in hand, through the large corridors. He’s on his way down to the dungeon where a certain someone is waiting for him. Edmund’s hands itch when he thinks about what he’s going to do to him. He can’t wait. 

You suddenly hug him. He flinches, but is quick to wrap his arms around you, to secure you against his body. You fit so well against him 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“Nothing”, you say, sounding shy. “Thank you for saving me. I think that I would be dead without you.”

“I would kill everyone in this world for you. You know that.”

But hearing you say ‘thank you’ to him, after everything hes done for — and towards — you causes his stomach to to fill with butterflies. He really would kill everyone for you. Over and over again. 

“I’ll have to leave you here”, he says as you reach the stairs down to the dungeon. “I have something to do. Will you wait for me here?”

“What are you going to do?” you ask hesitantly. 

Edmund smiles, showing off his teeth. “Play.”

[celestialsequels]

couldn’t see me without you, babe ¡! ❞

— synopsis: you’re in love with the it girl of your high school.

— warnings: fluffy, make out session, the most wholesome thing i’ve ever written.

— w/c: 1.9k

— part 2

a/n: credits to @jenctrl for helping me with the kiss scene !

•

digital cameras fluttered with alacrity as she made her way through the bustling hallways. turning everyone's heads without hesitation. her hair bounced with every step she took. she was as gorgeous as a butterfly, so delicate yet capturing everyone’s eye more than anything.

that was yu jimin.

that was the school’s it girl, as you always said. everything about her made your heart turn into mush and your face turn redder than a smooshed cranberry. those quick little glances she’d shoot your way left you a mess. in the midst of the night, she was the only thing encapsulating your dreams, refusing to leave until dawn.

yeonjun was sick of you for always bringing up jimin; he knew how insanely head over heels you were for her. you constantly told him the little details ranging from quick glances to full blown eye contact sessions from across the room. he swore you were crazy the moment you blushed at the note in your locker that said something along the lines of “you left your key in class; here it is.” your mind just knew it was jimin. only yeonjun knew it was the janitor.

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“can somebody please tell me when cubism became a revolutionary movement in the history of art?” yeonjun asked the class as you two stood in front of the class to present your done-last-minute-but-looks-good-enough art project.

you scanned around the room hoping somebody would answer since you clearly didn’t know the answer, having only been running the entire day on two cans of red bull. you crossed your arms, zoning out at the giant window while anticipating the smart kid of the class to answer. you tapped your chin trying to remember if you had anything in your mind since you were the one who wrote these questions.

“1907-08,” a voice spoke out of the classroom, breaking you out of your thoughts. you could recognize that voice anywhere. the way you began to giggle had the entire class thinking if you were having a stroke since you weren’t really the type to even smile in art class. your face lighting up as delusions encased themselves in your mind.

“that’s right!” you yelled out faster than yeonjun could utter out a word, scaring the entire class in the process of doing so.

“of course it’s correct. i’m never wrong,” and there she was in all of her glory, leaning on the door frame with a smirk painted on her face.

you coughed out loud as you choked on your saliva from how intensely she was staring at you and only you. yeonjun nudged you with his elbow, subtly telling you to get your act together since you were being too obvious.

“how may i help you jimin?” your art teacher interrupted. since jimin was older than you and a heck ton smarter than you, it was evident that she was adored by every teacher.

“i wanted to borrow a student from your class for an interview. it’s for my psychology project, and i really need them right now,” jimin spoke, still sporting a smirk in your direction as she knew your art teacher would never say no to her. your heart was doing all sorts of things; dancing around like jojo siwa in karma while also moonwalking all the beats through your body. your palms felt sweat pool in the center from how nervous her gaze was making you.

“take your pick, jimin,” your art teacher offered.

“can i take y/n if that wouldn’t be a problem?” her voice was more giddy than the expressions on her face.

you swore the things around you had stopped moving, the only thing you could hear was your blood pumping through your veins, clearly turning your face red. yeonjun stepped on your foot this time causing you to squeak out loud before muttering out a quick “sorry”.

“not a problem at all. y/n, please accompany jimin with her project,” your art teacher smiled internally, noticing how you turned red, but he was hopeful this could be the start of something new. you quickly nodded, almost embarrassingly tripping over the cord of the projector below your feet as you made your way towards jimin. she eyed you up and down hastily, mentally telling you to follow her to wherever she wanted to take you. you kept your head down as your shyness made an awkward entrance, quietly following behind her. she paid no mind to you until you two finally approached the library. jimin stopped suddenly, catching you completely off guard as you walked straight into her back.

“pay attention, pretty girl,” you froze at the endearment, pinching yourself to recollect yourself out of this dream.

you two made your way inside the library after that little moment, finding a cozy spot in the corner. it almost made you feel as if you were on a date with jimin, with the way she tucked your chair in as you sat down. you truly wondered what that would feel like.

“hi,” you managed to say despite the fact that you were out of breath by just being in her presence. you were oddly confused as you realized she didn’t have her notes with her for the interview until you recalled that she’s smarter than you and doesn’t do her projects the day before they're due.

“so, i have a couple of questions for you. this interview is solely based on having a casual conversation,” jimin paused at your confused expression before continuing, “it’s going to have common questions such as likes, dislikes, etc. is that okay?” she asked you, to which you politely nodded with a smile.

“okay, perfect. first question then. what do you think about museums?” she piped.

“museums? i really like them. i think they capture a lot more than just what was. they hold stories of people who once loved, once hated, and once made the entire world think if there was more to art,” you answered with a small chuckle at the end. jimin simply stared at you, almost in awe with how you formulated your words, especially since she knew that you didn’t like talking much.

“i’ve never thought about it like that! next question, what is your favorite type of flower?” she asked while tucking her hair behind her ear.

“if i’m being honest, i really love the old fashioned roses. i don’t have much to say for that other than the fact that it symbolizes such timeless romance,” you chimed.

“okay how about—wait what’s your opinion on—,” before jimin could ask you another question, the bell for next period rang loudly, reminding you that you had a test today that you totally didn’t forget to study for.

“i’m so sorry! i just realized i had a test today. can we pick this up tomorrow or perhaps, later?” you rushed out.

“oh! that’s completely okay. i’ll see you tomorrow then, or if i run into you later on. thank you for your time!” jimin smiled at you as you grinned before making your way out of the library and onto your next class.

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students had begun to jet outside of classes, piling up in the halls as the final bell of the day rang. you tiredly walked to yeonjun’s locker, filling him in on what had taken place in the library today. you felt the red bull beginning to wear off as all your energy had vanished the moment you stepped out of the test. teachers were heading to meetings they had been informed of at the last minute, causing everyone to be kicked out of class almost right at the bell.

“so, that’s all that happened? isn’t it weird how the questions weren’t the least bit psychology related?” yeonjun questioned curiously.

“well, she did mention that it was an interview based on having a casual conversation, but she didn’t exactly explain it, so i didn’t question her,” you responded tiredly.

“hmm, okay. go get your stuff so we can leave. i need to return this book to the library before it closes!” he yelled as he ran to the library, practically pushing people out of his way.

you shook your head at his buffoonery and made your way to your locker. foolishly forgetting your code before trying again, letting out a grateful susurration as it opened. you grabbed your textbook along with your keys. you were just about to close your locker until you saw a note fall out of the corner. looking around, you swiftly picked it up before gently unfolding it.

“meet me in the art room after the final bell”

without even hesitating, you shut your locker and trudged to the art room only to find it locked. you opened the note again, which you had shoved inside of your pocket, to check if you were at the right room. you clicked your tongue as you waited for something to happen or somebody to at least open the door. you noticed how the hallway had gotten so eerie. the atmosphere of the hallway almost forcing you to get going until you suddenly felt somebody tug roughly at the back of your collar and pull you into the art room.

it was jimin.

“hi, y/n,” she shyly smiled at you as you stared at her in surprise.

“hi, jimin. i wasn’t expecting that strength,” you tried to joke until you realized how horrible of an attempt it was.

before you could say anything else, you saw her rushingly dig into her bag for something. she slowly pulled out a rose from her side pocket and handed it to you, not letting you utter a word as she placed her finger on your lips, almost stilling you out of your mind. you blushed but didn’t dare to say anything.

“so, earlier during that ‘interview’ you mentioned you really liked museums, so i got us two tickets to the art museum downtown,” jimin said, taking your hand, gently placing the ticket in your palm, letting her fingers linger along your skin.

“jimin, i-i honestly don’t—you’re the sweetest little thing ever,” you gazed at her lovingly as you tried to gather your thoughts.

“you don’t have to say anything, y/nnie. i just want you to come with me,” she whispered.

she slowly tucked your hair behind your ear that had fallen in front of your face. you two locked eyes before she cupped under your jaw, bringing your lips near hers. you thanked whatever higher power there was for this moment just before you closed your eyes and let her take the lead.

as soon as her lips hit yours, you knew you were doomed for however long you were going to live this lifetime. butterflies erupted in your stomach while your heart leaped out of your chest in bliss. her soft lips continued to move against yours as your hands remained on her waist, pulling her in closer than ever. you two paused softly, smiling against each others’ lips before pulling back completely.

“so, i’ll come pick you up whenever you’re ready, pretty girl,” jimin beamed before heading out the door.

you happily nodded at her, not trusting your words in the moment. holding your chest as your heart wanted to simply embrace jimin and never let her go, you were sure your face was redder than it’s ever been.

“y/n? why are you so red?”

[hazbinwhoree]

Come Inside

Part 2/2

A/N: The heavily requested part two.

“Well you fucking did it,” (Name) announced, storming into the living room where Adam was watching TV. “Did what,” he asked, mouth full of the ribs he was eating. (Name) threw something at him.

“Hey!” he yelped, the small object bouncing off his shoulder. He picked it up and the world stopped for a moment. It was a pregnancy test. And it was positive.

“Are you fucking with me?” Adam asked after a moment. “Does that look like I am fucking with you?” She had a point. (Name) was watching him anxiously. Adam looked back at her. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I… I don’t know. How do you feel?” “Like I made good on a promise,” Adam smirked. (Name) threw a pillow at his head. “This is serious!” “I am serious!” Adam protested. “I said I’d put a baby in you and I did. You had no fuckin’ objections when we were doing it.”

(Name) groaned, flopping onto the couch next to him. “You’re telling me that you are ready to be a dad?” Adam placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt. “You say that like it’s an insane notion. I knew the risks, I knew this was a possibility. I wouldn’t have taken the chance if I wasn’t ready for it.”

(Name) teared up.

“Oh, shit, do you not want this?”

(Name) shook her head. “No, it’s just the hormones and the fact you actually want to have a baby with me.”

Adam laughed, pulling her into his lap. “Of course I want to have a baby with you. I wouldn’t have a baby with anyone else. Well, Eve, but I never raised Cain and Abel. In fact I was a completely absent dad–” “Babe.” Adam laughed, thinking about it. “I don’t know if that’s funny,” (Name) said.

Adam cleared his throat. “Point is, you make me want to be a father so long as you’re the mother.”

“You’re not gonna leave me and the baby like you left Cain and Abel?”

“Babe, Eve had Cain and Abel like right before she cheated on me. I wasn’t fuckin’ sticking around. Those kids are a mess too–” he laughed. “One killed the other!”

(Name) rolled her eyes, punching his shoulder. “The things you find funny are so fucked.” “Yeah but you love me,” Adam cooed, licking her cheek. (Name) squealed. “I hate when you do that! Just kiss me like a normal person, asshole!” Adam cackled.

The first trimester, it still hadn’t become a permanent thought in Adam’s head that he was going to be a father.

The second trimester, it became much more real and they started considering baby names and preparing a nursery.

The third trimster, was really bad for (Name). She was constantly exhausted, sore, hungry but sick to her stomach. The baby really did a number on her. By the time nine months rolls around, (Name) is more than ready to get this child out of her.

“GET IT OUT OF ME!” She screamed after pushing once. “Push again!” the midwife encouraged. (Name) screamed as she did.

Adam watched on in horror. He wasn’t there to witness Cain and Abel’s births, so he had no idea how brutal and scary childbirth was. He stroked back hair off her sweaty forehead, letting her squeeze the life out of his other hand.

Every time she screamed, Adam lost his shit a little bit.

“And push!” With one final push and a pained yell, (Name) delivered their baby.

It was a baby girl.

Adam had been reconsidering his eligibility for fatherhood. But when the nurse cleaned their baby off and placed her on (Name)’s chest, Adam was determined not to ruin a good thing. He may not be looking forward to the responsibilities of a father, but he would take them on for her sake.

In the following weeks, he really tries to help with the baby equally, but he’s pretty bad at it. He’d offered to take a few night shifts but would sleep straight through the baby’s crying, leaving (Name) to go soothe her. But he learned how to prepare a bottle of milk, and he learned how to change dirty diapers.

To his surprise, he actually didn’t find it all that difficult to bond with his child. (Name) even caught him baby talking once, which he fervently denies.

Months go by, and their daughter surprises them with her very first word… “Fuck!”

(Name) is appalled, Adam thinks it’s hilarious. She berates Adam for setting a bad example for the baby, when she shocks them with her second word. “Bitch.” Clear as day. Adam picks their daughter up and praises her. (Name) hits Adam’s arm.

Adam does his best to be a good husband and father, and while he’s not great at it, he is a present father and a loving husband.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Just Keep Breathing

Sam and Dean & little sister!reader, Castiel & Winchester!reader, Rowena & Winchester!reader

Requested by Anonymous (x2)

Synopsis: You get sick from a mysterious illness, and you just can’t seem to get better.

“Finally!”

Dean’s voice was the first you heard as you stumbled into the bunker after an insanely long school day. You were somehow sweating and freezing at the same time, and it felt like you might collapse any second.

“Grab a book, there’s a ton of lore to go through,” Dean continued. “We’re looking for more info on witches, seems like there might be…” Dean’s voice trailed off when he looked up to see you all but slumping down the stairs. “Hey kid, you ok?”

“Mm-hmm,” you huffed in response as your backpack dropped to the floor—had you done that? You didn’t remember making the decision to take it off, it seemed to just fall off your slumped shoulders on its own.

“Ok, commere.” You blinked and there was Dean, his hand lifting to your forehead and his brow drawn in concern. “Jeez, you’re burning up.”

At Dean’s words, Sam looked up.

“She’s sick?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Dean removed his hand and lowered himself to one knee to look at your downturned, unfocused gaze. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

You tried to focus on Dean’s eyes, but your gaze refused to settle.

“Yeah ok,” Dean sighed. “Let’s get you to bed.”

You let Dean lead you to your room and tuck you into bed. He even helped you take your shoes off when your fingers fumbled with the laces.

“Did you eat today?” Dean asked as you settled in.

“I…” you wracked your befuddled brain. “I had lunch…but then I threw it up sometime after sixth period.”

“Ok.” Dean cringed. “You get some sleep, I’m gonna go make you food.”

“Nooo.”

Dean turned in surprise at your desperate whine.

“What? What’s wrong?”

You grabbed at his sleeve and tugged.

“Don’t go,” you sniffled. “I don’t want food, I just want you to stay.”

“Ok, ok,” Dean relented, figuring that once you were asleep he could make you something. “You better not get me sick,” he said, only half kidding, as he sat on your bed. When you reached out to him, he went to put his arms around you, but the second his hands touched you, you flinched away.

“That hurts!” You were starting to cry now as you backed away from your brother.

“What hurts?” Dean was baffled. “I barely even…” he trailed off as he pressed the back of his hand to your head again, ignoring the way you hissed and tried to flinch away from him. “Jeesh, it’s even worse now,” Dean mumbled. “Just lay back now, you gotta get some sleep, ok?”

“Don’t go,” you begged.

“I’m not going anywhere, just take it easy sweetheart,” Dean promised. “Get some rest.”

Dean waited until he was sure you were asleep before he went to talk to Sam.

“She asleep?” Sam asked, not even looking up from the lore book he was studying.

“Yeah…” Dean’s voice trailed off as he stood there awkwardly for a moment. “Sam, something’s wrong.”

“Wrong? What, with Y/N?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it…she was getting hot so fast, and when I tried to touch her, it was like I burned her or something. I don’t know, I guess I can’t be sure, but something about her getting sick doesn’t feel…normal.”

“Ok.” Sam nodded. “Well, you call around at the school and see if there’s a bug going around. I’m gonna hit the lore a bit more.”

The boys didn’t speak as they got to work.

…

Sam was heading to the kitchen when he heard you calling for him. He detoured into your room, his heart constricting when he saw you—you were pale and sweaty, the sheets sticking to your skin. He couldn’t tell if your cheeks were glistening from tears or sweat—it was obvious you were in pain.

“Hey honey,” he greeted gently. “Did you need something?”

“Can you stay with me?” You pleaded. Sam didn’t hesitate, coming over to sit on your bed. You reached out to hold his hand, but when your fingers touched his you hissed and pulled away.

“Something wrong?” Sam asked, remembering what Dean had said.

“It hurts.” Now there was no mistaking the tears on your face for sweat—Sam had never seen you so upset and in pain. “It’s like-like my skin is on fire and-and I just want a hug but when anybody touches me it just—it just gets worse.” You were out of breath and choking on your words by the end, and it took every ounce of Sam’s will to ignore his big brother instinct and not pull you into his arms—the last thing he wanted was to hurt you worse.

“Stay right here, I’m coming right back,” Sam said as he stood. You didn’t say anything, you just watched curiously—and a little worried—as Sam left. Sure enough, he returned a minute later with a bowl full of water and a glove.

“Ok, I’m gonna try something, hold still,” Sam instructed.

You started to giggle when Sam pulled the glove on and plunged his hand in the bowl. He grinned at you, happy to hear you laughing again.

“Ok now, hold still,” Sam insisted. “This is serious.” But he was still grinning as he took his dripping, gloved hand and pressed it against your forehead. “How does that feel?”

You closed your eyes in contentment as the cool water hit your skin and the gentle cloth brushed against your forehead.

“Better,” you told Sam with a smile. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“Anytime,” Sam said.

The two of you stayed like that for most of the afternoon, with Sam comforting you and trying to cool you off with the wet glove. Sam was determined to do anything he could to make you feel better while Dean was trying to investigate the cause of your illness. He’d also been calling Cas all day, but he hadn’t gotten an answer.

Dean was just about to give up on the books and catch a few hours of sleep when he heard Sam calling for him. He followed the sound to your room, where he found his little siblings resting on your bed.

“Can you sing me a song?” You asked, shyly picking at your sheets.

“Uhm…” Dean swallowed, a little uncomfortable. “Sure sweetheart.”

Sam relented his spot next to you so that Dean could climb in. He started off just humming “Hey Jude,” and within minutes you were fast asleep.

“You were right, Dean,” Sam said when he was sure you were asleep. “I don’t know what it is but—but it’s bad.”

“Ok well we don’t need to panic,” Dean assured him, noticing Sam’s rising anxiety. “She’s been sick before, let’s just give it a little longer and see what happens. Maybe Cas’ll finally come around and set her straight.”

“I don’t remember,” Sam mumbled.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Her getting sick. I barely ever remember her being sick.”

“Dad always sent you to school whether she was sick or not. I usually stayed behind to take care of her.” A ghost of a smile passed across Dean’s lips. “Most of the time I had to convince dad that I’d caught whatever she had so that he’d let me stay with her. I never wanted to leave her when she was sick.”

Sam was quiet for a long moment before a thought occurred to him.

“I don’t ever remember you sick.”

At this, Dean shrugged.

“I usually just powered through it. I had a job to do, after all.”

Sam was about to comment on that when his eyes suddenly snapped to you.

“Dean, is…is she breathing?” Dean jumped up as Sam moved closer to you. “Dean she’s not breathing!”

Dean blocked Sam from getting in the way and grabbed hold of your shoulders.

“Hey…hey!”

You jolted awake when Deans shook you, taking a great gulp of air the moment you were awake.

“Hey…ok…” Dean breathed a sigh of relief, holding you in his arms until he heard you crying as you tried to pull away. “You ok?” He asked as he let you go.

“It still hurts,” you sniffled. “What…what happened?”

“You stopped breathing,” Sam said. “It…jeez kid, you scared us.”

Dean noticed that your breaths still sounded labored.

“Are you ok?” He asked.

“It…it kinda hurts,” you muttered almost to yourself as you rubbed at your chest.

“Breathing?” Sam met Dean’s eyes—they were terrified.

Your only response was a tiny nod as you continued to take shallow breaths.

“I’m gonna try Cas again,” Dean said, standing from your bed.

“I’m…” Sam hesitated, as though he didn’t want to tell Dean what he was thinking. “I’m gonna call Rowena.”

“Rowena?” Dean demanded. “Why?”

“Because we don’t know what this is, Dean!” Sam insisted. “For all we know, she got cursed! We were looking into witch activity in the area. Maybe Rowena can help.”

Dean backed off.

“Fine. Call her.”

…

“I can’t heal her.”

“That’s because it’s a spell, you idiot.”

“I can’t be sure of that.”

“Well I can!”

“Ok, ok,” Dean interrupted Rowena and Cas’s argument. “This isn’t helping anything. Rowena, what can you do?”

“Not much I’m afraid,” Rowena sighed. “I can’t undo the spell.”

“Well can you at least tell us what the spell is?” Sam cut in before Dean had a chance to get angry.

“That’s easy enough. It seems to be some kind of…anti-body spell.”

“What does that mean?” Dean demanded.

“It means that her body is slowly starting to reject what it needs or wants the most. Basic needs like food, water, probably even sleep, will start to hurt her.”

“It hurt when I touched her skin,” Sam interrupted.

Rowena shrugged, and continued. “I suppose the need or desire for physical affection counts. It will get worse, though. Things that she can’t live without will be too painful for her to do. Eventually even breathing will be unbearable.”

“It already hurts to breathe.” Everyone had all but forgotten you were there until you made yourself known. Your voice came out in a terrified whisper, but everyone heard you clearly.

“We’re gonna fix it,” Dean asserted. “All we have to do is find the witch, right? Then kill her.”

“It might not be that simple,” Rowena sighed. “I mean, it could’ve been anyone. For all we know, they put a spell on Y/N to make her forget them.”

“Then what are we gonna do?!” Dean demanded.

“You and Cas try to find that witch,” Sam jumped in, trying to find a way to keep panic down. “We already have a head start, since we were pretty sure one was in the area anyway. You know where most of the strange activity was, start there. Rowena and I will stay here, try and see if there’s an undo spell.”

Dean didn’t hesitate to agree. If he wasn’t so preoccupied worrying over you, he would’ve been very proud of Sam, stepping up while he was panicking. Now that Dean had a direction, he was calmer—he was ready.

“Ok. Let’s go.”

…

“Please don’t leave me.”

Dean and Cas had already left, and Rowena and Sam were halfway out of your room when you tear-strained voice reached Sam. He turned to face you, and his resolve to hit the books in the library crumbled when he saw you, shaking in fear and taking shallow, painful breaths.

“Bring me some books to look through,” he muttered to Rowena before coming to sit on your bed.

It was silent in your room for a few deafening seconds, before your shattered gaze met Sam’s and you spoke, breaking his heart.

“I don’t wanna die, Sammy.”

“Hey,” Sam turned to face you, resisting once again the urge to pull you into his arms. “Me and Dean are never gonna let that happen. You know that, right?”

“It-it hurts to breathe,” you cried. “And it keeps getting worse. I don’t—I don’t know how long I can do it.”

“Hey, hey…” Sam was reaching for you when he remembered that that would only make you hurt worse. His hand froze in the air, halfway to your face. “I…” Sam‘s voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Don’t…don’t say that, ok? You have to keep fighting, ok? We’re gonna find a way to fix this, but you just have to keep fighting.” Sam was so desperate to hug you that he pulled his sleeves over his hand to cover his skin and pulled you into his arms. You allowed it for several seconds, wanting so desperately to just sink into his arms. But you couldn’t.

“That…” you struggled to get the words out; you didn’t want to say them. “That hurts, too, Sammy.”

Sam flinched back like he’d been shot, looking down at you in utter defeat.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

The despair in the room was total.

…

“I’ve got it!”

Sam regretted his outburst when you jolted awake. Rowena had warned the both of you that sleeping might end up making you hurt more rather than feel better, but you had all but passed out from exhaustion and pain, and Sam didn’t have the heart to stop you. Even in sleep, your body and face twitched in pain periodically.

Now that you were awake, it was obvious that Rowena was right; it had made it worse.

“What—“ your breathing was labored as each breath pained you. “What happened?”

Rowena stepped into the room, having heard Sam’s declaration.

“I found the spell,” Sam insisted, holding the book up. Rowena approached him with a dubious frown. However, once she started to read the spell she slowly nodded.

“This might just do it,” she said.

“I’m gonna call Dean.”

…

Dean and Cas returned within an hour.

“Not a single lead,” Dean said, annoyed. “So this had better work.”

“Let’s hope so,” Sam sighed, looking at Rowena. She nodded.

“It’s a good thing that this bunker is well-stocked,” she said. “I believe we’re running out of time.”

Your gaze turned downwards when everyone glanced at you at Rowena’s words. Sure enough, your breaths had been getting shallower and shorter in your failed attempts to make them hurt less. You were also weak and pale from the lack of food and water you’d had over the past two days.

“Do it.” Dean was the first to look away from you as he spoke to Rowena.

Rowena handed you a cup filled with a mixture of herbs and things you didn’t want to know about. Your lip was quivering as you lifted the cup to your lips—you’d avoided food and water for a reason; if breathing was like a stab to the chest, how would swallowing down a potion feel?

Sam’s heart was breaking as he watched you struggle to swallow through the pain, and Dean couldn’t even look.

As soon as you had the potion down, Rowena started reading a Latin incantation from the book. Sam watched you carefully as Rowena finished it. He crossed his fingers behind his back, holding his breath as he hoped that your own would become less labored. Instead, your eyes widened in surprise as your breaths became even more panicked.

“What’s happening?” Dean demanded, his eyes flashing from you to Rowena. “What did you do?!”

“I-I don’t understand…” Rowena muttered, flipping through the book. “It should have…”

“Sam…De…” you whimpered.

Dean’s panicked eyes met Sam’s, then yours, before they went back to Rowena.

“Found it!” Rowena breathed relief, before her eyes once again clouded with worry. “Oh no.”

“What?” Sam and Dean demanded in unison.

“The-the counterspell…it takes an hour to work, and as it works through the curse, the curse…fights back.”

“What does that mean?” Dean’s breathing sounded almost as labored as yours as he struggled to keep down his fear as well as his anger.

“It means that it’ll get worse before it gets better. If we…if we had found this at the beginning, it would’ve worked easily, but…”

“But she might not survive an hour like this,” Cas finished for Rowena, realizing what she was saying before either brother.

“What can we do?” Sam asked.

“Nothing.” Rowena shook her head. “This spell was her only hope, so…so we just have to wait and see if she outlasts the curse now. It shouldn’t take any more than an hour.”

“Ok,” Dean said, coming to sit by you. “You can do this kiddo, ok? We’re gonna be right here, you’re gonna be fine.”

The seconds crawled by one eternity at a time. Every time Dean thought you couldn’t look more in pain, your face twisted again as you tried over and over to take a deep enough breath to satisfy your starving lungs. Once it reached fifteen minutes left, Dean noticed that every minute or so you stopped breathing completely.

“Hey, c’mon.” Dean resisted the urge to cup your face. “C’mon keep breathing, you can do it.”

Suddenly you were reaching your arms out to Dean, and he was backing away.

“I-I don’t want to hurt you,” Dean said.

“Don’t…care,” You whimpered. “I…n-need y—“ you couldn’t seem to get out full words, but Dean didn’t need anything more.

“Ok, yeah.” You were in Dean’s arms in a second. “Ok, I’m here sweetheart. I’m here, you just gotta keep breathing. Keep breathing for me.”

You burrowed against your big brother despite the pain, trying all you could to keep breathing. The pain was so blindingly unbearable that you started to feel your vision blur and blacken. Sam was the first to notice you drooping in Dean’s arms, and he reached down and pulled your face away from Dean’s chest so he could look at you.

“Hey, you gotta stay awake honey,” Sam insisted.

“Don’t let her sleep!” Rowena commanded. “Her body will stop breathing automatically if she passes out.”

“Hey, hey,” Dean’s gentle taps to your face felt like full-on punches, but they did the trick. Your eyes fluttered open once more, and your hands gripped onto Dean even harder. Sam had joined Dean on your bed, his one arm wrapped around your shoulders from behind while Dean continued to hold you in his lap. Their touch was like fire on your skin, but never had a burn been so welcome.

“Keep breathing,” Dean was repeating over and over, and without that mantra you truly would have stopped ten minutes ago.

“Seven more minutes,” Cas announced.

You went to take another small breath, and you couldn’t keep the cry of pain in when it was the worst pain yet. It hit you so hard that you felt the darkness returning.

“No no no, hey,” Dean pleaded. “Breathe kiddo, you’ve gotta keep breathing.”

You’d barely even noticed that you stopped. It felt so good to stop. The pain of your unfilled lungs wasn’t nearly as horrible as the pain of breathing.

The relief was so great that you barely even felt when the blackness finally took over, and you slumped in Dean’s arms.

…

“No no no no…” Dean was shaking you over and over, but you were out cold. “Come on, breathe!”

“Six minutes,” Castiel said.

“She won’t last that long,” Sam breathed.

“It-it’s not an exact science,” Rowena cut in. “It might…maybe it will work a little faster.”

With nothing else to do, the four watched, barely breathing, as your body lay unnaturally still on your bed. Cas was watching his watch like a guard dog, counting the seconds until you would have brain damage…until you could die…

The great, gasping breath that escaped your lips as you sat up had all four onlookers nearly crying in relief. Sam and Dean had already been crying, but even the witch and the angel couldn’t hold in their emotions anymore as you began to breathe deeply again, tears of relief streaming down your own face.

Dean held you in his arms without fear, and you clung to him without pain. Sam’s arm was still around your shoulders—he hadn’t moved an inch.

“You’re ok,” Dean breathed as you cried on his shirt, and no one was sure if he was reassuring you or himself. “You’re ok sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

You refused to let go of your brothers, having spent two days unable to take comfort in them when you needed them most. The three of you stayed like that for so long that eventually Rowena left, but Cas stayed to watch over the Winchesters he had sworn to protect—to watch over the one he’d almost lost.

He watched silently as the three siblings fell asleep—you first, then Sam, then—once he was sure that his little brother and sister were ok—finally Dean.

He watched, knowing that they had almost lost everything today.

He watched, knowing that they would only be closer because of it.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

[darklordofthesimp]

Clement (John Price x Reader)

Can be read as a standalone. Part 1 here. 

Summary: John continuously ends up in your medical bay but now it’s his turn to take care of you. 

A/N: These two are my fluffy couple and even that I can’t manage

Category: Mutual Pining || Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Graphic Language || Anxiety || Themes of PTSD

“Don’t take this the wrong way, John. But, I really don’t like how much I’ve been seeing you.” 

Captain John Price raised a brow, groaning as he situated himself in his usual seat. The man was soaked in blood, a sight that you’d begrudgingly gotten used to but still hated. He had no right to take offence, he was in your office every other week with varying injuries. The way you saw it, he was in that office more than you were. 

“Kinda hard not to take that the wrong way, darlin’.” He chortled as he readjusted his bad arm, the noise just as pained as it was amused. 

“Saint,” you corrected. 

“Saint,” Price rolled his eyes. 

You sat down in front of him, a huff pulling from your chest as you took him in. There was a long moment as you both stared at each other, silent and almost comical. 

“I’m sick of your shit, Captain.” You gave him a deadpan glare. 

John scoffed, “oh, don’t be like that.” 

“No, seriously ” you threw your hands up, “You owe me a drink.”

Price’s eyes widened in disbelief but you ignored him as you slowly dabbed antiseptic across his wounds. You could feel the muscles beneath your fingers tense as he fought to find the words.

“I’ve been asking you to let me buy you a drink for weeks!” John hissed, his eyes flitting cautiously to the doorway as a nurse walked past. He didn’t want to compromise your professional reputation, no matter how much you drove him crazy. 

You only raised your nose at him, “well, that’s because I don’t mix business and pleasure.” 

“And now is the exception?”

“No, now is the payment for putting up with you and your accident-prone kids’ fuckery.” 

Price laughed, it was full-bodied and warm and something that you could listen to forever. Your hands faltered in their work. Usually, you were steadfast- but John Price always had you on the edge of your seat with a pounding heart and a fuzzy mind. 

“Well, then.” The Captain conceded, relaxing a little more into his chair. “I’d better make it a damn good drink.” 

You hummed your agreement, leaning in closer to get a better look at the wounds on his neck. 

“A damned nice place too,” you said distractedly, “no grubby bars for this one.” 

How did he even manage shit like this? You were so in awe of the strangeness of his injuries, that you hadn’t realized the effect your proximity had on the good Captain. Your words whispered across the skin of his neck and jaw like a gentle caress. The knowledge that he could kiss you right now simply by tilting his head down a little, it drove him insane. 

“Of course not,” he rasped, “I’d take you somewhere fancy. One of them nice cocktail bars, maybe.”

You smiled as you tended to him, your gaze glued to where your hands worked their magic. You couldn’t have seen the way his eyes flickered from your brows to your lashes, and then to your lips. You wouldn’t have noticed the way he clenched his jaw and prayed to anybody who was listening that you weren’t talking shit.

“I’d love that,” you murmured, pulling your touch from his skin to reach for the wound dressings. He craved the warmth immediately. “You’d be in a suit and all.” 

Price chuckled, partly at what you’d said and partly by how distractedly you spoke. 

“Is this all part of your master plan to see me dressed up?” The Captain said jokingly. His heart stopped when you finally flicked your gaze up to his. 

It was at that moment that you realized just how close you sat to him, your mouth going dry at the proximity. You could smell him so clearly as if all your senses had suddenly kicked into overdrive. John always smelt like pine and tobacco. You wondered if it was just his body spray mixed with those damned cigars, but part of you knew it had to be some pheromone that drove you crazy. 

“Funny,” you regained your bearings, leaning back in your seat to observe him. “I was going to accuse you of the same thing.” 

Those ocean-hued eyes sparkled with mirth, roving over your features as if he were committing them to memory. John had a way of seeing beneath all the armour you wore, but somehow it never left you with the sense that you were defenseless. He always made you feel seen but safe. He was comforting. 

“Won’t lie to you, love. I’d give anything to see you all dressed up,” John said honestly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

You raised a brow challengingly but the Captain only watched you, as comfortable as ever and confident in his words. After a long moment of silence, you finally spoke. 

“A lot of these boys would,” you rolled your eyes. “Not exactly invoking confidence here.” 

John straightened in his seat a little. 

“Well that’s the problem, innit?” He said, shooting you a meaningful look. “They’re boys, not men.” 

You opened your mouth to respond, maybe with something smart or clever or anything really that would throw the good Captain off kilter. Instead, you were interrupted by a woman leaning in through your doorway. It was the new nurse that had transferred from another unit only a few days ago.  

“Saint?” She said softly, eyes flicking between John and yourself. “Just wanted to pop in and let you know that this is the last patient on your roster.” 

You smiled, trying to ignore the way that her hand sat precariously on your door handle. The stomach-churning realization that she didn’t know the protocol for your office was making it difficult for you to speak. 

“Awesome, thanks Angie.” You choked out.

As you opened your mouth to remind her to leave the door open, the woman skittered away as fast as she’d appeared. You watched as the door swung shut, anxiety roiling in the pits of your gut. The sound of it clicking closed felt like the final nail in the coffin. 

You took in a deep, calming breath. “Lovely.” 

Price stood up from his seat instantly, resting a hand against your shoulder as he moved to pass you. “Easy love, I got it. You just focus on getting me back into fighting order, yeah?” 

 “Yeah,” you rasped, your fingers shaking as you slowly reached for your stitching kit. The sound of John’s footsteps behind you felt like a hammer in your chest and you tried to fight the urge to swing around and watch him. 

You trusted John. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you and you knew this was just a reaction from your prior experiences. A closed door and a turned back had been a recipe for disaster last time, but this time you were with the good Captain- you were with John. 

There was a long silence from behind you as the door rattled and you tried to ignore the sound, focusing on attempting to thread the string through the eye of the needle. Your hands were trembling far too much for it to be anything but a joke. 

“Saint.” John said from across the room. 

Not love, not darlin’, not even Doc. 

Just Saint. 

You held your breath, swivelling slowly on your stool to face the man behind you. Price stood by the closed door, his expression carefully blank. He had a palm resting on the handle. 

“I need you to take a breath,” he began. “Don’t panic.” 

Too late. 

You said nothing, painfully aware of how dry your throat suddenly felt. Each breath felt like your skin scraped against sandpaper, and with every beat of your heart, it felt like it was only going faster.

John rattled his hand against the door and to your horror, it didn’t budge. 

“Saint,” he raised his other hand with his palm facing outward, an attempt to placate you. It was well and truly too late for small acts of comfort, it was well beyond that point. 

How could they have accidentally locked the door? 

You stumbled off your seat, reminding yourself of the breathing techniques that you had taught both Birdy and Ghost. How could you help them when you couldn’t even help yourself? 

You were a fraud. 

“That’s fine,” you said, sounding anything but fine. “This is fine, we just need to call the nurses on the outside.” 

“Saint.” 

You reached clumsily for your table, the tools and bottles tipped overboard to bounce against the vinyl flooring. You swore beneath your breath, painfully aware of how hot it had suddenly become. Sweat trickled down the length of your spine, prompting your anxiety to run with it. 

You had forgotten what you were even looking for. 

“Saint.” 

You needed to get out of there. You needed to get that door open. You couldn’t be in there, couldn’t be left to the mercy of another soldier. Your heart thrashed wildly in your chest, your ribs aching as they tried to contain it. 

“Saint!” 

The door was closed and there was a man in the room with you. If you showed weakness it would only encourage him to attack, you needed to maintain the facade. You needed to be strong. Your fingers found the scalpel handle on your table. You wouldn’t let it happen again. 

“Saint!” 

You shot up straight, whirling around on the soldier now standing behind you. The instinct to protect yourself overcame any situational awareness that you had, you weren’t going to go through it again. The blade in your hand came down hard, aiming straight for his chest. 

Price caught your wrist instantly, ocean gaze baring deep into yours. 

A desperate noise, something akin to a sob fell from your lips.

“You’re alright, darlin’,” John rasped, sparing a quick glance at the weapon in your hand. “Gonna need you to take a breath with me, yeah?” 

You were sweating but cold, shaking but frozen, all at the same time. 

You were a mess. 

A fraud. 

“Saint,” the Captain ducked his head to meet your dropping gaze, “look at me.”

His fingers came to rest softly against your chin, tipping you up to meet his eyes miserably. You sniffled, tears running rampant down the length of your face and neck. You wanted to sob, you wanted to tear yourself from his grip and beat against the door. 

You weren’t sure whether you were too scared to move or too safe. 

“You’re safe. I’m not gonna let anyone lay a fuckin’ finger on you,” John reassured, genuine and firm in the statement. He wasn’t fucking around, he wasn’t spitting pretty words just to break them. 

John Price was right about one thing, there was a difference between boys and men. 

And there was no way to confuse which one he was. 

“Yeah,” you rasped. It was dry and crackled but it was a sign that you still had some control over yourself. It was a sign that you weren’t going to snap. 

“Yeah?” The Captain smiled. The sight of it put you at ease. The sound of his chuckle comforted you. 

“Yeah.” You reaffirmed, nodding your head this time. 

You were okay and you were safe and it was just a fucking door. 

“Good,” John said, eyes sparkling with mirth. He flicked his eyes upward at where he still held your wrist. “You reckon you could drop your machete then? Fearin’ for my life.” 

You jolted at the realization that you were still holding the scalpel, the blade still pointed directly at the man before you. Your knuckles had gone white from how hard you’d been gripping it. 

You sucked in a deep breath, dropping it as if it had burnt you. Price hummed consolingly as you stared up at him with wide and teary eyes. 

“Im sorry-“

“Don’t.” John warned gently, releasing your wrist. “Don’t apologize for defendin’ yourself.”

You closed your mouth and offered him a shaky nod. You needed him closer, you needed comfort and for once that didn’t involve you craving isolation. Usually, you wanted nothing to do with people when you were like this. Now, your fingers itched to touch him. 

The Captain rocked back on his heels a little, observing you from beneath his lashes.

“You alright?” He asked. His hands moved to touch your elbow but he paused halfway, as if he thought better of it. You watched as they dropped, wishing that he’d just done it. 

“Could be better,” you said honestly. “Could use a drink.” 

Price laughed, short and sharp. His fingers flexed. 

There was a long silence as you both took each other in. You wanted to say something, literally anything. You could slip in one of your dry jokes or maybe ask him to sit back down as you searched for your phone. 

Instead, you found yourself watching him, enjoying the visage of the Captain behind the lense of a new perspective. 

And he was watching you right back. 

His hands moved again, this time slow and with intent. John was giving you the option to move away, giving you the time to reject his touch. Some part of you tried to remind you that you should be afraid, that you were alone in a room all over again. But there was no reason to be afraid of this man, he was not some broken soldier- he was the master of his own ship. He was the Captain. 

He was John Price.

When his fingers came to rest on your arms, goosebumps rose across the places that his warmth trailed. 

“Let me take you out,” he whispered, so close you could taste the words. “Let me get you a drink, Saint.” 

Again, the intentional use of your call sign. The name that you had given him but he’d refused to use up until today.

“John-“ you hesitated, shifting where you stood.

You wanted nothing more. However, your thoughts had a way of running away from you, taking your fears and experiences and sprinting from where you stood. You knew he was a good man, but at the end of the day military men had a stigma for good reason. 

What if he would fuck you over in the end?

What if he didn’t come home?

“I know what you’re thinking,” John spoke, stepping closer. “I know where that brilliant fuckin’ mind of yours is going and I want to stop you right there.” 

You snorted softly. “You don’t know what I’m thinking, Captain.” 

His palms settled against your biceps, fingers enclosing around your skin. You could feel his thumbs rub into your arms, as though he was grounding himself as he spoke. 

“I do. You’re thinkin’ about me doing wrong by you. You’re thinking I’m full of hot air and pretty words and all that shit.” John rattled off, shaking his head as he spoke. “You’re thinking ‘bout what happens if one day I don’t make it.”

Your breath caught in your throat. 

“Well,” his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that you’d never seen. “I’m not here to play games. What you see is what you get and if I have you to come home to, I promise not even God could take me.” 

John’s breath was shaky at best as he scanned your features. It was nerve wracking to put yourself out there but it spun you out trying to process what he’d just said. Everything in you wanted to kiss him the second he’d finished his sentence.

You swayed on your feet, mouth opening and closing as you tried to muster a response. Your heart beat against your chest, trying to escape its prison and run right into John’s grasp. 

“Okay.” You said.

You wanted to die. The man had said the most romantic thing you’d heard since you’d binge watched Bridgerton, and all you had was one word. The most unenthusiastic word, mind you.

But, in true John Price spirit, the man only laughed. Full bodied and victorious. 

“Okay?” He sought confirmation with the biggest smile you’d seen from him in months. 

“Okay.” 

You wanted nothing more than him. 

[hawkinsbnbg]

Cat hybrid Steve who was returned to the shelter multiple times because he was too high-maintained.

Since he was a rare breed that would get sick easily when upset, most owners deemed him a burden and returned him after just a few days because they didn’t want to get fined for hybrid neglect by PETH—People for the Ethical Treatment of Hybrids.

Their reason was that they couldn’t afford his expensive diet in the long run or play with him all the time.

What they wouldn’t admit was that Steve didn’t need all those pricey food, toys, or clothes. He just simply asked for their affection, which they were always so stingy with.

On the other hand, they kept demanding things from him, rewarding him when he managed to please them and dropping him at the drop of a hat when he failed or refused to satisfy them.

Gradually, he grew bitter about it. He became moody and withdrawn. Every time there were new customers visiting, he would hide in his room and wouldn’t come out until they left.

Thankfully, Joyce and Hopper didn’t seem to be upset with him for it. They just let him be and treated him like any other hybrids at their shelter.

Meanwhile, their kids—Will, Jonathan, and El—kept hanging out with him and treating him like their equal.

Perhaps, that was a major part of why he agreed to meet Eddie Munson at their insistence.

For all he knew, the man was insanely wealthy and famous for being a rockstar. Could provide him with a comfortable life and attention that he had been craving for.

Steve was suspicious but he still gave Eddie a chance, trusting El’s judgment when she said the man was a genuinely good person.

Then, the first thing Eddie had said to him was, “Pretty one, may I take care of you?”

And Steve was sold.

It wasn’t wise to risk his battered heart again when he had ended up abandoned countless times.

But strangely enough, Eddie’s dimpled smiles and kindness made him want to try, to hope, to be brave once more.

So he had stayed, let Eddie get closer to him as days went by. He tried to be cautious, but Eddie was charming and funny and affectionate.

The man lavished him with gifts, cuddles, and kisses all the time. Giving him things he wanted and was afraid to ask for. Allowing him to sleep on the same bed and never pushing him to do anything he didn’t like.

Spoiling him without limitation, to the point that Steve started blushing and feeling warm in his tummy every time the man touched him.

He didn’t think it would be a problem until he was gathered into Eddie’s lap one day and mewled when the man stroked his back.

“Someone’s feeling happy today, hm?” Eddie smiled softly at him, making his heart flutter and his breath hitch.

Steve nodded shyly, his ears flat on his head in embarrassment while the end of his tail curled itself around Eddie’d wrist like usual.

Maybe that was it.

He was just getting too excited with Eddie being home and nothing else.

But then, he outright moaned and arched his back when Eddie’s hand began moving again.

“Sorry,” Steve bit his lip and intended to stand up, not wanting Eddie to think he was weird.

Except the hand on his waist just tightened further and prevented him from leaving.

“I know it’s not your fault, kitten,” Eddie combed through his hair soothingly. “If you want, I can find a partner for you.”

Steve frowned in confusion before meeting Eddie’s eyes, dark and unreadable for the first time since they met each other.

“… Partner?”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Eddie reassured him with a smile that seemed too forced to be genuine. “You can use the right wing of the house during your heat and I’ll only be a floor away. Your partner will also be hand-picked by me and your doctor so there won’t be any scum– sorry, any troubles that can slip through the crack and cause you harm.”

Steve felt light-headed at the mention of heat. He couldn't believe it would arrive after having been absent for so long.

Why now? Why did it choose to show up now when things were going so well for him? And what did Eddie mean by hand-picking a partner for him?

The mere thought of letting someone who wasn’t Eddie touch him that way was enough to make Steve’s hackles rise.

Then again, he wasn’t human and he knew Eddie wouldn't want him like that despite how affectionate the man was to him.

“What's wrong, baby?” Eddie cradled the side of his face gently when he let out a whine.

“I–” Steve squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his lips start wobbling at the thought of Eddie rejecting him.

It was his fault for forgetting his place and catching feelings for the one man who was out of his reach.

Of course, there was no law against hybrid and human relationships, but they were still frowned upon and their offspring would be listed as hybrids for the rest of their life once they were born.

A disadvantage that most humans would want to avoid. Usually, they used hybrids for their own needs—sex, entertainment, companionship. And rarely would they consider treating their hybrids as the object of their love and bailing their children out of their doomed fate with money.

A lot of money.

Perhaps, Eddie would grant Steve’s wish since the man could afford it. But his hope had been quashed the moment Eddie talked about finding a partner for him.

If that wasn’t a sign for Steve to give up, then he didn’t know what it was.

“It’s nothing,” he smiled and pushed down the urge to cry, he could do that later once Eddie left for work. “Sorry for worrying you, Master. It’s probably an effect of my heat.”

“You sure you don’t have anything to tell me?” Eddie looked into his eyes, searching for something he didn’t know.

Steve took in a deep breath and nodded with as much strength as he could muster up even when it hurt.

“I’m sure.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, the man just grabbed his chin and captured him in a fervent kiss, causing him to gush more slick between his legs.

It wasn’t until he ruined his shorts with how soaked he was did Eddie release him.

“You’re mine, kitten,” Eddie nipped the tip of his ear while cupping him through the damp cotton. “No one’s allowed to touch you like this but me.”

“Only yours, Master,” Steve babbled and undulated his hip to seek more friction from Eddie’s big hand, mewling when Eddie caught his tail and tugged it teasingly. “Only yours.”

“Good boy,” Eddie chuckled before kissing him again and again and again.

In the end, Steve was kept in bed for a whole week even though his heat only lasted three days.

Turned out, Eddie had been the trigger of his heat according to Claudia, much to his embarrassment and Eddie’s amusement.

It wasn’t a surprise when nine months later, Steve gave birth to their twins—Maxine Munson and Joey Munson.

And of course, Eddie had paid a hefty price for their children to not get registered as hybrids.

Not only that, they also ran a lifelong campaign to advocate for hybrids’ rights and betterment, helping them escape from their fate.

It wasn’t always sunshine and rainbow, but with his husband and children by his side, Steve had grown into his own self and achieved as many of his goals as he could until the last day of his life.

And he knew one day, many people like him and Eddie would follow in their footsteps so they could live a life full of love without regrets.

And so he hoped.

[stevie-petey]

episode eight: the upside down

You know you shouldn’t, but you laugh. Honestly, after everything you’ve been through tonight with Steve, how can he possibly think the two of you aren’t friends? “Why are you laughing?” Steve mumbles, confused.  “Sorry,” you wheeze out, still uncontrollably laughing. “It’s just–I mean, dude! We almost died together, of course we’re friends now!” “We are?” He looks like a little kid on Christmas day being given the gift he’s always wanted. Your heart warms. “Yes, idiot.”

summary: drinking game time ! take a shot every time jonathan tries ditching you or every time you almost die at the byers house, you find out that steve really is an athlete and tbh it's hot, but you know what's even hotter ? saving hawkins and reaching a tentative compromise with steve after he loans you $5 for snacks. after, jonathan makes a promise you really hope he can keep.

rating: general, cursing and slight scary violence

warnings: violence, use of fire and weapons, guns, use of fem!reader and use of y/n, slight mentions of blood and death

words: 13.7k

before you swing in: the final chapter ,,, my heart </3 please enjoy my child, i put so much into this chapter. action scenes scare me, they're hard and i'm weak, so i hope this lives up to everything you guys wanted n more ;) i cannot believe we're at the end (but i do have another chapter planned that's set in season 1, so shhhh). thank you so so so much for all your support. i never thought this silly lil fic would get that much attention, but i'm insanely flattered and grateful for each and every one of y'all. i'm so proud of what i've created and you guys are my beloveds ,,, anyways, enjoy !!!

-

You almost miss Jonathan and Nancy sneaking off. 

You had been explaining a comic book that had been in your bag to El when you noticed a shift in your periphery. Turning your head, you see Jonathan stand, offer Nancy his hand to help her up, and then walk towards the main doors together. 

What the fuck. 

“They wouldn’t dare…” You excuse yourself and run out the gym and into the hallway to follow them, absolutely furious. You’re so sick of their bullshit, of Jonathan’s bullshit and putting Nancy first. This isn’t even a petty jealousy thing, this is about the years of friendship between the two of you that has just suddenly disappeared within a damn week all due to circumstances completely out of your control. 

The slam of the main door is the only warning Jonathan gets before you’re yanking him by his coat and flinging him back, forcing him to look at you. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

You’ve never, ever yelled at him like this before. Not even earlier this week when he’d given you that bullshit apology after screaming at you for being in his room, for saying the two of you weren’t family. You didn’t yell at him for hiding Nancy’s pictures from you, for going off without you to find the monster. Despite everything, you’ve never been this cruel to him, even if he may have deserved it at times.

Jonathan’s wide eyes stare down at your hand that’s still clutched around his coat, frightened. “Bug, we were just–”

“Just what? Sneaking off without me?”

“It’s not like that, Y/N.” Nancy now steps in, her hands held up as if you’re some rabid dog she wants to calm down. “We just figured we’d help Joyce and Hopper.”

“‘We’? Are you fucking kidding me? You two talked about this, had an entire conversation, and still somehow came to the conclusion that ditching me was a great fucking idea?” You scoff, deeply hurt by the fact that the two of them had an entire conversation without thinking to include you in it. 

“Bug, can we talk about this one on one?” Jonathan asks, his voice lowered. You can see the genuine upset in his eyes and for a moment your grip on him lessens, but then you see Nancy behind him and your anger only returns. 

“No, we can discuss this right here.” 

He sighs and tries to grab the hand not clutching his coat, but you slap it away. “Bug–”

“You’ve lost that privilege.” 

“Bug–I mean, Y/N,” His voice falters. “Look, my mom and Hopper are out there right now trying to find Will while that monster is still out. Nance and I… We want to finish what we started.” 

“Without me?” You don’t mean for it to happen, but your voice catches at the end.

Jonathan’s gaze softens and this time he succeeds in grabbing your hand. You let go of him and allow him to pull you in, weak against him as always. “I’m doing this to protect them, to protect you, Y/N. I’m always trying to protect you. You know that, right?”

You used to think that you did, but now? You’re not so sure, and it terrifies you. 

Nancy has stepped away from the conversation, now kicking at rocks while you’re with Jonathan, and you can’t help but think about how wrong all of this feels. 

Throughout this entire week it’s felt like someone has given you a photo of Jonathan, smeared its lines and edges, removed his moles and his crooked smile and made it neater, altered so that if you squint you can see the boy you grew up with underneath it all… But it’s fuzzy, almost too unclear to really see. 

Now he’s standing in front of you, his smile once more crooked and cunning and his moles faded underneath the moonlight and for a second you can see him. There he is, clear and untouched and him in a way that’s never quite been yours.

“I know,” you tell him. “But how many more times do you expect me to forgive you for lying and ditching me? If you want to protect me, you need to talk to me.”

Jonathan winces. “I know, I know it sounds stupid and I know I’ve fucked up more than enough this week, I just get caught up in wanting to make sure you’re safe. It’d kill me if I let anything happen to you… I just, I can’t lose you, bug.”

“So pushing me away is your grand plan of keeping me?”

“I’ve always been an idiot.” He manages a smile, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“That’s true, but if you attempt to ditch me one more time I swear to god I’ll pour tar all over your car.”

The boy laughs and for a brief moment everything feels okay again, but it doesn’t last very long. “In our defense, we figured you’d be better off with the kids since you’re not really a fighter, ya know?” 

You drop his hand. “Excuse me?” 

Jonathan’s smile is gone. “What?”

“I’m not really a fighter? You’re kidding, right?”

“Hey, no I didn’t mean it like that–” Jonathan fumbles over his words, clearly taken aback by your sudden mood change. 

You step away from him. “How many times did I defend you against Lonnie? Better yet, remind me how we became friends in the first place. Wasn’t it because I threw milk at a bunch of idiots bullying you? Huh?”

“Y/N–”

“God, I can’t believe I almost let you get away with it again! I mean, do you even hear the bullshit that comes out of your mouth?” You deepen your voice, now doing a poor impersonation of him. “‘Hey, bug! You know I love you, right? Cool! Now, I’m gonna go do fuck all and ignore you and ditch you and then somehow turn it into me being a good guy because duh! I can never do any wrong!’”

“Please, just–”

“Did I get it right? It was a pretty good impersonation in my opinion. I mean, I am the one who has had to deal with this shit all fucking week. I think I'm an expert on this topic now.” 

Jonathan looks pained but you don’t fucking care anymore. You’ve reached your limit, you’re sick and tired of being treated like some delicate creature that’s incapable of taking care of itself. You literally slapped Tommy Hagan this afternoon in order to help Jonathan, yet here he is basically calling you weak. 

And yet Nancy is the fighter. She’s the one who gets to go along on the adventure while you’re sidelined because for some damn reason you’re always the second option. Never taking matters into your own hands, always the one left behind to clean up the mess and take care of those also discarded. 

You’re sick of it. 

You step closer to Jonathan again, so that you’re nose to nose, and whisper, “I’m tired of never being good enough.” 

And with that, you reach into his coat and snatch up his keys, a game you’ve always played with him but now has turned into a bitter taste in your mouth, and run back into the gym. Someone has to inform the kids of the plan, make sure they’ll be okay on their own. 

Dustin sees you approach and smiles, but when he notices the angry pace in your steps, he frowns. “Uh oh.”

“Yeah, uh oh.” 

“Jonathan again?”

You nod, still too angry to trust your words. “Yeah.” 

He notices the keys in your hand. “Where are you going?”

Mike and Lucas look over now, curious as to what’s happening. 

You sigh. “I’m going with Nancy and Jonathan to the Byers house, we’re going to kill the monster.” 

“Why the hell are you going?” Dustin exclaims while Mike shoutes “sick!” and Lucas mumbles “great, alone again”. El remains quiet, still resting. 

You flick your brother’s hat. “I have to, Dustin.”

“For Jonathan?” He shakes his head. “I like him, but aren’t you mad at him right now?”

“Is it just me, or is she always mad at him these days?” Mike whispers over to Lucas, who simply shrugs. 

“Girls, man.” 

You ignore them and focus on Dustin. “It doesn’t matter. He needs my help, and no one in the party gets left behind. Remember?”

“Y/N–”

“I love you,” you kiss the top of his head. “I promise I’ll be safe, just be careful, okay? I’m putting you in charge, so don’t let me down. If everything goes according to plan, I’ll see you in a few hours tops!”

Dustin tries to argue some more, but you quickly run back outside before he can get another word in. You feel horrible leaving him behind, but you know this is the right decision. If you can kill the monster, there’s less of a chance of the kids or Joyce and Hopper getting hurt. Jonathan and Nancy may be fine on their own, but there’s always power in numbers and they’ll need all the help they can get. 

You just… you have to help. You know this is what you’re supposed to be doing, even if it pains you to do so. Dustin and the kids are smart; as long as they stay at the school, they’ll be fine. 

In theory, that is.

Nancy and Jonathan are waiting for you outside. You push past them and march towards Jonathan’s care; they awkwardly follow after you. You unlock it, throw yourself into the backseat, and promptly dig through your backpack to make sure you have everything. 

The two teens get in a few minutes after you. Not one word is spoken as Jonathan starts the car and the three of you drive off, leaving Hawkins Middle behind. 

– 

You thought the car ride with Nancy and Jonathan from the funeral home had been tense, but this one? Downright painful. 

Jonathan has a tight grip on the steering wheel and keeps trying to catch your eye through the rearview mirror but you avoid his gaze. You’ve spent the last five minutes arranging and rearranging your backpack to give you something to do while Nancy has tried three times to make conversation to make this car ride bearable. 

“El seems nice.” 

“You said four words to her, Nancy.” You retort, switching open your switchblade once more to watch the moonlight dance off of its blades. 

“Right.” 

Nancy shifts uncomfortably in the passenger seat. You know she realizes she’s once again upset the balance in your relationship with Jonathan. It was only an hour ago that she tried getting you to admit your feelings for him before convincing the boy to up and leave you. Sure, Jonathan made his own decision in the end, but damn. She could’ve at least pretended to want you around. 

She notices your knives and tries to spark conversation again. “I love the color of the handle, it’s beautiful.” 

“Thanks,” you switch the blades closed and sit up in your seat. “Anyways, you geniuses have a plan or were you just counting on ditching me and winging it from there?”

“Y/N–”

“No, Nancy. I insist, let’s talk about a plan. We’re here to kill a monster, right?”

She closes her mouth and frowns, turning to Jonathan for help, but he’s no use. He’s busy tapping his fingers against the wheel and praying that the world will just swallow him up whole. Too bad for him you’re a stubborn pain in the ass and would simply pluck him back up so you can torture him some more. 

Nancy sighs. “Well, Jonathan and I were thinking we use the supplies we got earlier and lure the monster to his place, then we kill it.” 

“Awesome plan, guys!” You say, your voice dripping with sickly sweetness that leaves them both feeling even more uncomfortable. “But may I suggest some actual details or shall we just bank off of this wonderfully dull and vague plan?” 

“Sure, Y/N. Tell us what you had in mind.” Nancy rubs her face tiredly, knowing she deserves this. 

“Great! I’m assuming we’re luring the monster with blood?” They nod at you, so you continue. “Okay, so before we lure it I think we should completely booby-trap Jonathan’s house. Nail the bear trap down onto the floor, make sure the floor is cleared of anything that could trip us up. Then, once we’ve got the house secured, we knick ourselves to draw some blood and pray to whatever god is up there that we can kill the thing.” 

You pause for a moment, remembering how all the Christmas lights had been unscrewed by Joyce earlier. “The lights, we need to fix them. The monster communicates through the lights so if we have them, then we can track it.”

“That all sounds great, bug.” Jonathan finally speaks up, ass kissing. 

“Thanks, pal. Still don’t have the bug privilege back, but I’m sure you simply forgot.” 

He gulps, once more going back to being silent as he drives you and Nancy to his house. 

Nancy again tries to diffuse the tension. “How do we even kill the monster though? I mean, will my bullets be enough?”

“I have this idea, but it’s… well, it’s out there.” You bite your lip, now feeling your cocky demeanor slipping. “If we can safely set fire to it, I think that’s our best bet.”

“Fire?” Jonathan exclaims, but Nancy shushes him. 

“I think you’re right.” 

“Y/N, I know you’re mad at me but do we really have to set fire to my house–”

Now it’s your turn to shush Jonathan. “This isn’t about that. I wouldn’t burn your house down, I already told you I’d just pour tar on your car whenever I get the chance. For now, I really do think the best thing to do is burn the monster alive. In every horror movie and book, fire always gets the job done.” 

Despite herself, Nancy lets out a soft chuckle as Jonathan parks the car, now at his house. “She’s right, Jonathan. And who burns down houses these days? Tar really is the best form of revenge.” 

“I’m flattered, Wheeler. At the rate you’re going, you’ll be off my shitlist in no time.” You tell her, patting her on the shoulder before getting out of the car. You quickly open up the trunk and gather the monster hunting supplies while Jonathan and Nancy take their time getting out. 

You let yourself into the Byers home using your own key to the place. It’s been nestled in between the key to your house and the spare key to Jonathan’s car on your keychain for a few years now. 

The first thing you get started on are the lights. There’s hundreds of them to get through, but you drop your supplies and begin screwing them in one by one. Nancy and Jonathan come in soon after and silently begin to help. 

No conversation is made besides the necessary comments about the prep work. You’re all too focused on the possibility of what could happen next; the danger of the situation has finally set in. After the lights have all been fixed, you instruct Jonathan to begin nailing the bear trap down while you and Nancy discuss where to pour the gasoline. You both agree to make a path from the living room to Will’s room. 

As Nancy pours the gasoline, you follow behind her and pick up any flammables. You weren't lying to Jonathan earlier, you really don’t want to burn his house down. While the house is wrecked, it’s still a home despite everything that’s happened in it. You practically grew up within its walls, you’d do anything to keep it as protected as possible. 

When you’re done, you watch Nancy load her gun. A shiver runs down our spine; she looks at ease with it, which you figure should be reassuring, but the gravity of everything leaves you feeling on edge. You leave her alone and walk into the kitchen where Jonathan is, now hammering a ton of nails into his bat. 

You begin to sharpen your blades next to him, still finding that you only feel secure by his side. The rhythmic sound of his hammering calms you, in a sense. It serves as a distraction. You know you insisted on coming, you don’t regret it and you know you’re stronger than everyone seems to give you credit for, but you’re also terrified. This isn’t just some adventure in the woods; this could kill the ones you love dearly. 

Once you’re both done preparing your weapons, the two of you walk to Will’s room and rig up a simple snare. Jonathan grabs a yo-yo and you pull up a chair to set it on. The idea is that when the string gets pulled, it’ll alert you that the monster has sprung the bear trap. It’s not the most efficient warning system, but it’ll have to do. 

The last thing to do is set the bear trap, which takes all three of you to achieve. Jonathan and Nancy hold down the edges with their body weight and you very carefully set the trap with your hand. You shake a bit as you do so, but you force your nerves down. You remind yourself that Jonathan thinks you’re too weak, too cowardly, you have to prove him wrong. 

When the bear trap clicks into place, you let out a harsh exhale and sink against the wall, your heart still pounding. Jonathan and Nancy copy you and the three of you sit in silence. You’re still shaking a bit, and Jonathan is next to you just as tense, but for the first time since you’ve met him you can’t reach out to grab his hand to steady yourself. He’s too far, both literally and figuratively. Even with him next to you, you couldn’t be more far apart. 

In the back of your mind, you hope the kids are alright. Hopefully they’re having a better night than you currently are. 

“C’mon,” you say after a few minutes, getting up to walk over to the living room. “We’ve done all we can, now we just have to draw some blood and be the prettiest bait in Hawkins.”

– 

Nancy and Jonathan decide to cut the palm of their hands, but you respectfully would rather die than have a matching scar with them. The idea makes you so uncomfortable you visibly cringe when Jonathan tells you the idea. “Yeah, no thanks. I think I’ll find somewhere else to cut.” 

He looks hurt by what you’ve said but doesn’t voice it. Instead, the three of you stand in the living room in a triangle facing each other and he begins reciting the plan. “Remember…”

Nancy goes first. “Straight into Will’s room and–” 

“Don’t step on the trap.” You finish.

Jonathan nods. “And then?”

“Wait for the yo-yo to move.” The girl says. 

“Then…” Jonathan flicks the lighter on.

You whistle low. “Let there be light…” 

“Right. Light.” The boy nods again. “Alright, we ready?”

“Ready.”

“Scar time.” 

Jonathan and Nancy bring their hands up and place their knives flat against their palms. You roll up your sleeve and place your own knife against the upper part of your arm, just below your shoulder, and take a deep breath. 

“On three,” Jonathan says. He begins counting and you all can’t seem to stop shaking. He senses your unease and looks up at you and Nancy. “You guys don’t have to do this.”

Nancy glares at him, her own voice shaky. “Jonathan, stop talking.”

You nod. “Yeah, what she said.”

Jonathan tries to argue, but Nancy squeezes her eyes shut and yells, “Three!”

You close your own eyes and slice at your arm, the pain immediate. You gasp out, never having been good with pain, but you know you have to do this for Will. The blood trails down your arm, dripping from your elbow onto the ground, and you watch as blood from Jonathan’s and Nancy’s own cuts falls onto the ground too. 

Well, at least it’ll be an easy scar to hide compared to theirs. 

“Fuck, that stings.” You say to break the silence, and Nancy nods her head in agreement. 

“Not the most pleasant feeling.” 

Jonathan guides the two of you over to the couch and grabs the first aid kit that you had prepared on the coffee table. He sits in the middle, leaving room for both you and Nancy on each side of him, but you’re still pissed at him and opt to sit on the floor in front of the couch.

Nancy begins to patch up his wound, and it takes everything within you not to reach over and help him yourself. It feels unnatural to watch someone else taking care of him, but the space between you still feels too vast to cross. 

You patch up your own cut while the two of them talk quietly. You wind a bandage tight around your arm, ensuring you won’t bleed through, and Jonathan watches above you with guilt in his eyes. Nancy is trying to reassure him that everything will be okay, but as he watches you struggle to tie the bandage he wonders if he’s fucked up more than just your friendship.

“Bug, let me help with that.” He leans down and ties your bandage before you can stop him. 

You glare at him, still having not said anything to Jonathan besides what was needed for preparation. Nancy distracts herself by cleaning up around his cut and your stomach twists into knots. This is all so miserable. 

“Y/N, I know you’re upset with me and you can go whenever. I won’t blame you, you’ve done enough for me.” Jonathan says, trying to catch your eye. 

You turn away and inspect your bandage, still reeling over the fact that he tied it for you. “I’m here for Will, and only Will.”

“Y/N…” There’s a hurt in his voice that almost makes you turn around to throw your arms around his neck and whisper a million apologies to him. To tell him everything, that you love him and that you’d do anything for him and that’s why you’re so terrified of how you feel. You know you’d burn yourself up if it meant he’d be taken care of, if it meant he was safe and happy and far away from anything that could harm him. You know you’d use up everything within you to love him. 

Instead, you remain silent.

After getting no response from you, Jonathan clears his throat and begins to say something about how the lights will serve as an alarm for the monster, trying to pretend that everything is okay, but he’s cut off by a sudden pounding on the door.

You all jump and your fingers tighten around your switchblade, ready to open it. As your heart pounds you think of all the possible ways the plan could go wrong. When you’re on possibility number twelve, a voice calls through the door. 

“Jonathan?”

“Is that… Steve?” You say out loud, in complete disbelief. 

Steve continues to pound on the door. “Are you there, man? It’s… It’s Steve! Listen, I just wanna talk!”

You’re the first to react, standing up to run over to the door. You fling it open and step outside, making sure Steve won’t be able to see inside the house. When he sees you, he stumbles back a bit. “Henderson?”

His face is still bleeding from earlier and his hair is a mess, and yet there’s a softness to him that you haven’t seen before with him. “Steve, now isn’t really a good time.”

“Can I just talk to Jonathan real quick? I just… I want to apologize about what happened earlier, see if we can maybe–” His eyes land on your bandaged arm. You curse and roll down your sleeve, feeling like an idiot for forgetting to hide the wound before going outside. 

Steve reaches out to touch it, a hint of worry on his face and his voice is now full of concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

You shiver at his touch, it’s gentle as he skims along the bandage and inspects it for any other problems. You pull away, now hiding the wound. “It’s nothing, but you should really go.”

“I want to help you, Y/N. Do you need me to get you anything?” His face is so full of worry for you that it makes you ache. Then a thought occurs to him. “Wait, where’s Byers? Why isn’t he here to help you?”

You’re about to make up a lie, but Nancy flings the door open. “Steve, listen to me.”

He looks between the two of you in complete shock. “Okay, what–”

“You need to leave.” Nancy orders.

Steve looks at you. “I’m not trying to start anything, okay?”

“I know, but–” You get cut off by Nancy.

“I don’t care about that. You need to leave.”

Steve begins to plead with the girl and you step away a bit, not wanting to intrude. You feel bad for him, he looks so beat down by what’s happened today and you suppose that you can’t really blame him. After spending maybe a total of ten hours with Nancy and Jonathan, you also have come close to losing your mind. 

If you were with Jonathan, if you truly had him, you’d react the same as Steve. Begging for the girl he loves to listen to him, to give him another chance with the promise of him changing. 

“I just want to make things right.” Steve says, impressing you with his vulnerability. He’s openly admitting to his mistakes and taking accountability mere hours after the situation has occurred, leaving you both in awe of him and also saddened for him. He loves Nancy more than anything, you can hear it in his voice. 

He deserves better. 

As you’re thinking this, you see his eyes flicker down towards Nancy’s bandaged hand and his brows furrow. “What happened to your hand? Is that blood?” His eyes now flicker over to you again. “Why are you both hurt?”

“We’re clumsy?” You say as Nancy yanks her hand away from Steve.

“It was an accident.” She agrees. 

Steve looks between the two of you, now sensing that something else is wrong. “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing!” Nancy insists, but something in Steve’s demeanor shifts. 

“Wait a second, did he do this to you? To Y/N?” His once soft voice is now filled with anger and you step in front of him. 

“Steve, it wasn’t Jonathan. You need to go, I promise I’ll explain everything later–” 

He grabs you by your side and gently moves you so that he can get past and shove through the door. Nancy yells at him to stop and tries to push him out, but she’s useless against his strength. When he manages to break in, he stumbles inside and scans over the house. 

“Shit!” You follow after him, your brain running a million miles a second trying to figure out how to explain everything to him. 

“What the fuck?” Steve mumbles, eyeing the bat with nails in it. “Y/N, what’s going on here?”

He’s looking to you for reassurance and you guess he assumes that the two of you are allies in this Jonathan and Nancy situation. You really wish you could explain, but Jonathan has grabbed him by the shoulders and is trying to push him outside. The two stumble around for a few seconds and you just helplessly watch. 

“Steve, there’s no time to explain, please just listen to Jonathan and get out of here!” You’re helping Jonathan now, trying to get Steve out the door and away from harm’s reach, but he’s still fighting back confused and lost as ever and you pity him. 

You hear a click and turn around, gasping when you see Nancy holding her gun up to Steve. “Woah, what the fuck Nancy?”

“What! What is going on?” Steve yells, now more panicked than anything else. 

While Jonathan has stepped away, you find yourself standing in front of Steve as if to somehow block the bullet. You can’t let him get hurt, he doesn’t have any part of this, he can still have a normal and happy life if he just leaves now. “Nancy, put the fucking gun down, this isn’t helping!”

Steve pleads with her as well and the two of you scream at the girl to just listen and not swing around loaded weapons, but Nancy remains firm in her stance. “You have five seconds to get out of here. I’m doing this for you.”

“Because holding a gun to his head is any better than telling him the truth?” You exclaim, entirely over the situation. 

As the four of you are arguing, the lights begin to flicker. Steve and Nancy don’t seem to notice, but you do. You look at Jonathan and say your first real words to him in hours. “Jonathan…”

He hears you and he runs over to your side, grabbing your hand as the two of you stand shoulder to shoulder. You feel your heartbeat race and you can feel him shaking beside you. He’s terrified, so are you, but his hand around yours manages to steady you. 

“Nancy!” Jonathan tries to get the girl’s attention, but she’s too busy counting down to hear him. 

He shouts at her again and the lights start to flicker more wildly and you draw your switchblade out, adrenaline coursing through you. It’s time. 

Jonathan yells once more and finally catches Nancy’s attention. “The lights!”

She whips her head around and curses, Jonathan, still tightly holding your hand, tugs you along so that you follow him as he secures his weapons and grabs the bat. “It’s here.”

“What’s here?” Steve is flailing around, utterly lost.

You all ignore him and now stand back to back in a triangle. Nancy holds up her gun, Jonathan wields his bat, and you flick your wrist to bring out your knives. “Where is it?”

“I don’t know!” 

The lights flicker rapidly and you feel overwhelmed. They were supposed to serve as a guide towards the monster, but there's no possible way to see which direction it’ll come from and for a fleeting moment you think you’ve made a huge mistake. 

Steve is still screaming, demanding answers, but you’re too busy scanning your surroundings to offer him some information. “Hello? Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going–”

The roof opens up, cutting Steve off, and you scream as the monster attempts to come down right above you. Jonathan shields you from the fallen debris and you cling onto him in utter fear. This isn’t real. This cannot be happening. 

Nancy begins to shoot at the thing while Jonathan guides you to safety. He brings you to the edge of the living room and holds your face in his hands, forcing you to really look at him for the first time all night. “Listen to me, stay here while I get Nancy.”

He kisses your forehead and then leaves, rushing over to Nancy to pull her away and guide her towards Will’s room. Steve stands next to you, frozen, and it forces you back to reality. The plan, you have to stick to the plan. 

You grab Steve’s hand and yank him so that he follows. The monster has dropped down now, a horrible creature on all fours that opens its gaping mouth to let out a horrible screech that you feel deep within your bones. This is what killed Barb. 

The four of you run to Will’s room and you only just barely have enough time to warn Steve about the bear trap. You look over your shoulder and shout, “Jump!” right as your ankle catches on its chains. 

You fall. Hard. 

Pain sears through your ankle and you try to get up, but any pressure on it sends flames through your entire body and you let out another scream. The monster catches up, looming over you, and you brace for your death. There’s no fucking way you’re getting out of this. 

You squeeze your eyes as the monster stalks close to you, its ugly mouth open and ready to kill you. Jonathan is screaming at you to get up, but Nancy is holding him back from helping. You’re relieved by this, knowing that someone has to be there for Will once this is all done. He’ll need his brother, and Nancy seems to understand this. You catch her eye and nod at her, sending a silent thank you. 

“Bug! No, let go of me! I have to help her, Nancy!” Jonathan’s voice becomes hoarse by how loud he screams, his voice breaking with fear and desperation. 

Then, right before the monster lunges at you, you feel a familiar pair of arms slide underneath your legs and pick you up. “What–”

Steve Harrington has swooped in to save you, picking you up as if you weigh nothing, ever the athlete, and swiftly jumps over the bear trap while screaming his head off. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

You’re so delirious from the pain in your ankle and the adrenaline pumping through your veins that you can’t help but let a laugh escape you. No fucking way is any of this real. Steve Harrington is carrying you bridal style into Will’s bedroom with Jonathan and Nancy as witnesses. 

What a life. 

Once you’re both secured in the room, Steve sets you down gently right as Nancy yells at him to shut up. As soon as Steve lets go of you, Jonathan is at your side and pulls you into a crushing hug. 

“Bug.” He breathes out against your ear, relief heavy. 

“I’m okay.” You tell him, threading your fingers through his hair. He’s shaking harder than ever, and holding onto you as if he’s scared he’ll lose you again. “I’m okay, bee.” 

He pulls away and his hands are all over you, checking everywhere for any other injuries. “Did it hurt you, are you bleeding? There should be a first aid kit–”

You grab his hands and kiss his knuckles, which seems to calm him down a bit. “I’m fine, just twisted my ankle. If you help me up, I’m sure I’ll be able to stand again.” 

Jonathan quickly helps you to your feet and you lean against him for the extra support. While you put on a brave face for Jonathan, you’re terrified out of your fucking mind. You almost died. Jonathan is still holding your hand and he’s looking at you as if seeing you for the first time and you force yourself to look away. It’s the same look from the field days ago, when you thought he’d kiss you. 

You have to focus on what’s at stake.

How the hell are you guys supposed to kill this thing?

The monster screeches, breaking the moment between you and Jonathan, and he flicks his lighter on and forces you to stand behind him. Nancy holds up her gun and you bring your knives closer to your face, Steve standing weaponless behind you. 

You all wait, tense, for the monster. It stalks closer to the room, its awful growls alerting you of its proximity, but it doesn’t appear. 

“What’s it doing?” Nancy asks, frustrated. 

“I don’t know.” You respond, equally as frustrated and scared. 

Another few agonizing seconds pass, and you stare at the yo-yo and hope that it remains still. Then, the lights stop flickering and it becomes quiet. All you can hear is your blood roaring in your ears. 

Nancy looks around. “Do you hear anything?”

“No,” Jonathan shakes his head, inching closer to the door. 

“Wait!” You tug at your still interlocked hands. You pick up his bat that had been thrown on the ground and hand it to him. “Be careful. Please.”

He gives your hand one last squeeze before letting go, accepting the bat.

As Jonathan pokes his head out to see if the monster is outside, Steve bends his head down and whispers in your ear, “Romantic.”

“Shut. Up.” You hit him in the chest, fearfully watching your best friend to make sure he doesn't die. When he motions an all clear, Nancy follows him outside, then you, then Steve. 

The house is silent and your heart sinks when you see that the bear trap has been left untouched. You realize with a horrible gut wrench that the monster is smarter than the three of you had anticipated. 

So much for your plan, then.

“It’s smarter than we thought.” 

“Yeah,” Jonathan agrees with dismay. 

He stalks against the wall towards the living room and you all follow in a single file line. You do your best to stick close to the wall but you limp with every step. Your ankle is definitely out of commission for now. Great. 

All of you are on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It couldn’t have been that easy, there’s no possible way that the monster simply up and left. You enter the living room, which has gotten even more wrecked due the monster. The wallpaper has been torn off of some parts of the wall and you see papers scattered everywhere. 

“Shit…” you mumble, kicking at a shredded wallpaper strip. 

In the corner, Steve has started to hyperventilate and mumble to himself. “This is crazy, this is so crazy, this is fucking crazy.” 

You limp over to him and grab his shoulders, making him face you. “Steve, hey. It’s okay, I’m here.”

“Y/N, what the hell just happened?” 

“It’s… complicated. For now, can you trust me that everything will be okay?” 

“Of course I trust you, it’s just…” He nods, his eyes softening. You lessen your hold on him and give him a smile, he seems to be calming down. Then, he looks around the room and seemingly remembers where he is. “This is crazy!” 

Steve lunges for the phone on the wall and tries to call for help. 

You stumble after him, the pain in your ankle slowing you down. “Steve, wait–”

Nancy gets to him first, grabbing the phone out of his hand and throwing it across the room. He looks at her, shocked. “What are you doing? Are you insane?”

“It’s going to come back!” Nancy yells at him, and you wince at the way she treats him. You know Steve will only listen to her, but she could at least be nicer about the whole situation. The three of you have had some time to process everything happening, Steve was thrown into the deep end. 

“You could be a little nicer,” you mumble, and Nancy sends you a glare. You raise your hands up in surrender. “Sorry.” 

“Steve, you need to leave. Right now.”

He looks so overwhelmed and you give him a pitying look. He stares at you, reminiscent of the way he looked at you earlier in the alley, silently begging you to say something, anything, but again you can only shake your head at him. You won’t force him to stay, it wouldn’t be fair.

“Y/N, please…” He tries one more time to get you on his side, but you can’t. Frustrated by your lack of response, Steve groans. “Fuck it!” 

He runs out the door. 

You’ll admit that you’re a bit disappointed, but you also understand. Who in their right mind would stay? 

You and Nancy share a look before the lights begin to flicker again. Dread fills you. “Fuck…”

Jonathan is back by your side and he and Nancy again form a triangle with you, all your backs pressed together as you desperately try to locate the monster. You all stumble in a circle, searching for any sign of the thing, but there’s nothing. 

“Where is it?” Nancy gasps out.

“Just fucking show yourself!” You shout, just wanting this all to be over with. Your body is drained from living in a state of fear for so long. 

“Come on you son of a bitch!” Jonathan echoes your taunts. 

Suddenly the lights turn off and you’re left alone in complete darkness. Faintly you can hear the monster’s familiar growl approaching from behind you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, the air stands still. It’s back. Before you can react, it pounces on Jonathan. 

“Jonathan!” You scream alongside Nancy. Desperation takes over you and before you can even process what’s happening, you ignore the pain in your ankle and jump onto its back, stabbing repeatedly at it. 

Your blades only bounce off of its thick skin and the monster struggles to get you off. You hold on as tight as you can, shouting and kicking at it so that it can’t hurt him, but then it opens its mouth and for a horrifying moment you’re afraid that Jonathan will die.

“No!” You scream even louder than before and double down on your effort, stabbing and slashing as much as you possibly can to try and create some damage, but your arms are starting to ache and your ankle now feels like it’s on fire. 

“Nancy, its skin is too thick!” You sob out, nearing complete exhaustion. Then, just as you’re about to collapse from exhaustion, gunshots fill the room. 

Nancy begins to shoot at the monster and with the help of your blades, the two of you manage to pierce its skin, but even then the damage is minimal. It’s not enough, it won’t be enough. Tears stream down your face and the monster only gets closer to Jonathan, so you do the only thing you can think of: you crawl onto the top of its body and stab at its mouth. 

The monster lets out a blood curdling scream and flings you off of its back. You go flying across the room and land against the wall with a groan. All the air has been knocked out of you and your ribs are definitely going to be bruised tomorrow. Every part of you aches, but you manage to lift your head up and blearily process the monster now approaching Nancy as she continues to shoot at it, but it remains unphased. 

You crawl over to Jonathan, who is still laying on the ground. He’s motionless, and you fight everything within you not to break down and sob. You have to keep going, he has to be alive. As you reach Jonathan and frantically check for a pulse, the monster has now cornered Nancy and her gun seems to be out of bullets.

It’s over. You know it is. 

Right as you’ve accepted your fate, a screaming Steve Harrington wielding Jonathan’s bat once again manages to save the day. 

He hits the monster with the bat, effectively saving Nancy and you’re so impressed with his batting skills that you almost find him attractive with how easily he hits and dodges the monster. However, you file those thoughts away for later and finally manage to wake Jonathan up. He startles with a gasp and you check over his chest, scared he may have gotten pierced by the monster’s claws. 

“I’m fine, we need to help.”

You help each other up and you have to lean heavily against him due to your ankle. You bull riding the monster has only made the sprain worse; you’re too afraid to look down and see the damage that’s been done. 

As the two of you hobble over to Nancy, Jonathan looks at you. “Is Harrington really here right now?”

“Yes.”

“Lovely.”

Steve manages to lure the monster closer and closer to the bear trap and you watch him in awe. He’s quick footed and so sure of himself, the complete opposite of the boy from only ten minutes ago who had run out of the house screaming his head off. Now, Steve is swift with his hits and even twirls the bat in his hand to show off. The small act causes you to smile despite the horrible circumstances. 

By the time you and Jonathan are up and recovered, Steve has successfully led the monster straight into the trap. It clamps around the monster’s foot and it screeches, flailing around in the trap. Steve still has his bat held up, now frantically looking over to everyone else. “He’s in the trap! He’s stuck!”

“Jonathan, now!” Nancy screams, motioning over at him to use his lighter. 

Jonathan listens, using his free hand to flick the lighter on and then drops it onto the ground, right into the trail of gasoline. Immediately the monster goes up in flames, letting out horrible noises. You all shield your faces from the flames and Jonathan pulls you closer into him, still having yet to let go of you; you feel yourself sink into his side as you watch the monster wither away.

“Bug, I have to get the fire extinguisher, do you think you can stand on your own?” Jonathan asks you, his voice soft but urgent. 

You quickly nod and brace yourself for his departure. “Yeah, go.” 

He lets go of you as gently as possible before running to grab the extinguisher. When he has it, he orders everyone to get back and then smothers the flames. It takes a couple seconds, but eventually the fire gets put out, leaving behind an awful stench that makes everyone cough and gag. 

“Holy fuck,” you wheeze out, hunched over. “Burnt monster smells horrible.” 

“Yeah, no kidding.” Steve coughs out. 

Nancy covers her face with her jacket. “Where did it go?”

“It has to be dead.” Jonathan pants against the wall, looking like he’s three seconds away from passing out. “It has to be.”

“It fucking better be dead.” You mumble, hobbling closer to see what exactly was left behind. When you get closer and see the giant lump of melted skin all over the bear trap, you gag. “Oh god. Yeah, okay. It’s dead.”

Everyone sighs with relief. 

Then, you notice a Christmas light above you flicker on. Your heart stops, terrified that the monster has somehow survived, but then a second one turns on, then a third, until a path seems to be guiding you towards the living room. 

You all follow, cautious but curious, but these lights don’t feel threatening. There’s an energy to them, a comforting one that leaves you breathless. When you get to the living room, tears form in your eyes, now understanding what this all is. You look at Jonathan, who also seems to be thinking what you are. 

It’s Joyce, you know it is. 

“Mom,” he breathes out. 

You limp over to him and grab his hand. He turns to you, his eyes shining with an appreciation that he only ever has for you. He seems to be drinking you in, as if now realizing just how close the two of you came to dying tonight. You’re doing the same, thankful that he’s alive and standing next to you despite everything. There’s so much the two of you want to say, but as always the words aren’t needed. You understand each other perfectly, the balance between you centered once more. 

You put your head on Jonathan’s shoulder and he brings his hand to your hair to softly stroke it. The two of you stand like that for a second, breathing each other in and enjoying the tenderness after such a miserable day, before you slowly break apart and follow the lights going outside. 

The porch light flickers and Nancy stands next to you, watching it with uncertainty. “Where’s it going?”

“I don’t think it’s the monster.” Jonathan tells her. 

“It’s Will.” You don’t know how you know this, or what makes you feel so certain that you’re right, but somehow you know that you are. Somewhere deep within you, you feel the faint outline of hope flicker. 

A new silence surrounds the four of you at your words, and for once there’s hope between you all. Then, after a minute or so of silence, everyone begins to head back inside. Steve first, then Nancy, and finally Jonathan, leaving you alone with the crisp early winter air.

You take a deep breath, the cold air serving as a reminder that you’re alive. You let it fill your lungs until you can’t breathe in anymore, then you release the air through an exhale and feel your body settle into its exhaustion. This is the first time you’ve had a moment to yourself, so you let the exhaustion weigh upon you like a warm blanket. 

Will is safe, you can feel it. Despite everything, he’s safe and alive. Jonathan is too, still your best friend regardless of all the unspoken words between the two of you. Dustin is at the school with the kids, away from danger. Everything is okay, it’ll be okay. 

You let the moment wash over you, incredibly grateful to be lucky enough to have survived it all. Everyone you love and hold close to you is safe. You didn’t fuck up this time. God, you did it. 

Jonathan comes running out after a while, his face alight with joy and he crashes into you and picks you up to twirl you around. You laugh, loud and freely, and bury your face in his hair as he continues. “Bee, stop! Put me down, you dummy!” 

He does as he’s told, but doesn’t let go of you once your feet are on the ground. “My mom just called, they saved Will. He–he’s in the hospital, he’s okay.” 

You squeal and throw your arms around Jonathan again, squeezing him so hard that you’re afraid you'll hurt him, but he simply laughs and squeezes you just as tight. Tears come again, but this time they’re happy ones, and if it weren’t for your ankle you’d be jumping up and down right now. 

Jonathan’s laughter dies down and he cups your chin around his fingers so that you look up at him. “You did it.” 

“We did it, bug.” You softly push against him. You can’t take all the credit. 

His eyes are shining again, you haven’t seen him this happy in so long, you get lost in it. His face is lit up and his smile is back and you’re so in love with him that it claws against your throat and threatens to spill out in excess.

A beat of silence passes and Jonathan just soaks your presence in. You can’t quite read his face, but for once this doesn’t frighten you. You enjoy it, you relish in the fact that he’s still yours yet now forming into someone new and lovely and wonderful. 

“You never gave up.” He whispers at last, adoration in his voice. 

“Never.” 

“You never left me.” 

“Never.” You breathe out, the word so simple with such heavy weight behind it. 

The moment is so raw, so tender, and Jonathan is giving you that look again, the one that leaves you feeling like the sun itself has settled upon you and kissed your cheek. His eyes flick down to your lips and you smile, taunting him to lean in. He seems to understand, giving you his own teasing smile before leaning in. You lean in as well, every part of you buzzing, and right before your lips touch his, Steve bursts through the door.

“Jonathan, dude, do you have like, any food in the house?” He asks, completely oblivious to what he’s just interrupted. 

You and Jonathan break apart, laughing the tension away. He ducks his head down, clears his throat, and turns to Steve. “Sorry, man. Been a little busy this week for grocery shopping.”

Steve’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Oh shit, right. Sorry, okay. Uh… Well, I’ll be inside, I guess.” 

“We’ll be in shortly.” You tell Steve. You want to be frustrated by his timing, but something tells you that you’ll have all the time in the world to tell Jonathan how you feel. Now just isn’t the time. 

– 

The moment you arrive at the hospital, Jonathan sprints out of the car and straight towards the front desk to find out where Will is. You and Nancy follow behind, figuring you won’t be able to see Will for a while since you’re not blood related, so the two of you wish Jonathan goodbye and head towards the waiting room. 

Steve lags behind, obviously unsure where to go. Nancy immediately walks inside, but you notice his hesitation and nudge his shoulder. “I’m sure that the cut on your eyebrow needs to be looked out. Let’s go sit, okay?”

He sighs deeply. “Yeah, sure. Totally. Let’s go sit in a room full of people who probably hate me. No biggie.”

“Either come or don’t.” You shrug. “But the way I see it, you can start mending some metaphorical wounds while you wait in there.”

You don’t wait for Steve to figure out what to do, you know that Dustin is somewhere inside the waiting room and you’re buzzing to see him and the rest of the kids. You hobble inside, still very much in pain due to your injuries, but the moment you see your brother it all fades away. 

He runs into your arms and almost knocks you down with the force. Dustin clings onto you, mumbling over and over again how sorry he is. 

“Hey, wait a second,” you pull him away and crouch down, groaning a bit at the pain. “What are you sorry about? What happened?”

You look around the room and see everyone there. Nancy, Hopper, the kids, Steve, even Nancy’s parents, but there’s someone missing…

“El,” you breathe out. 

Dustin’s lip trembles and he begins to cry. You soothe him, grabbing his hand to bring him over to the seats and sit between him and Mike. Lucas is to the left of Dustin and you can’t help but notice how all the boys have dried tears in their eyes. 

When they’re ready, you have the kids explain what happened, and the more they tell you, the more guilty you feel. You should’ve been there for them, you left them all alone with that monster. You got Will back, and yet you’ve lost El as a result. It seems that no matter what you do, it’ll never quite be enough in the end. 

“It’s not your fault.” You tell Dustin, who still keeps apologizing. It was you who had left him in charge, you’re why El ended up vanquished by the monster. “You did everything you could. I shouldn’t have left you guys all alone, but I’m proud that you all took care of one another, okay?”

He sniffs and nods his head, but you know he doesn’t believe you. All the boys are somber; you know it’ll take time for them to recover. So, you do what you do best, you console them. You hold their hands and rub their backs and offer your spare comics in your bag. You do whatever you can to comfort them, to reassure them that they’re safe now and that no one will hurt them, but the light in their eyes has dimmed. 

They’ll never be the same again. 

And El… she had been so young, you don’t think you’ll ever not feel the heavy weight of guilt whenever you think of her. She had been so sweet and had trusted you. 

You should’ve been there, you wish you could’ve saved her.

Steve watches from his seat across from you. He listens in as you comfort the boys, taking care of them in such a natural way. He admires this softer side of you, one he hasn’t quite seen before. Sure, you’ve always been gentle and sincere, but watching you with the kids is something special in itself. You manage to get them to laugh, you offer them your shoulder to cry or sleep on, and you read aloud to them stories from your comics and Steve finds himself drawn towards your interactions with the kids. 

It’s sweet, something delicate and lovely, and Steve admires everything that you are. When he sees you awkwardly stand up and stumble over to the vending machines in the hall, Steve finds himself following after you. 

-

“Bitch!” You slam the palm of your hand against the vending machine in vain. The bag of chips hangs by the little spiral, taunting you. 

“That’s not a very nice word, Henderson.” 

You turn and see Steve, leaning against the wall with a fond expression. “You stalking me?”

“Nah, just wanted to watch you fight against a vending machine.”

“Ha,” you snort, turning back to the machine. “Unless you can help me get this last chip bag, you’re free to go sit back down.”

You mean it to be a joke, not expecting Steve to actually listen, but he’s at your side within a second. “Step back, let Steve handle her.” 

“What–”

Steve motions for you to move, so you reluctantly do as you’re told. Once you’re out of the way, Steve claps his hands, stretches out his neck, and then begins to aggressively shake the vending machine. 

“That is so not what you’re supposed to do–”

Suddenly the bag drops down from the hook and into the retrieval slot. Steve reaches inside, grabs the bag, and then dangles it in the air. “Tada!” 

You laugh and grab the bag from him. “Okay, I’ll admit, that was impressive.” 

“What can I say? I’m charming like that.” 

“Sure,” you smile at him, neither of you have moved yet. He’s still standing in front of you with that cocky smile on his face that’s slowly started to warm on you. You truly do understand why so many girls have fallen for him. If you ever saw Steve on the street, a stranger passing by, you’d fall a little bit in love with him yourself.

The thought startles you. “Well, uh…”

“Yes?” Steve raises his eyebrows at you, smiling. 

“Thank you for the chips. The kids haven’t eaten anything in hours, so…” You wave the three bags in your arms. “Gotta keep 'em fed.”

“Wait a second, there’s only three bags there. Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

“I only had enough money for the boy’s chips.” You say, feeling suddenly sheepish. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just eat a few pieces from them and wait until we get home.”

Steve scoffs. “Yeah, no.”

You frown at him, confused as he rustles through his jean pocket and pulls out his wallet. “I don’t want your money–”

He doesn’t listen and simply puts the cash into the vending machine and punches in a few numbers. Slowly, one by one, multiple different bags of sweets and chips come falling down within the machine. Once the last one has dropped, Steve bends down and offers the huge stash to you. 

“A feast, on me.” He winks at you and you can’t help but blush. 

“T–thanks, I guess.” You now carefully balance the rest of the snacks in your arms, the mound almost blocking your view. You’re not sure how much Steve just paid, but with all these snacks you and the kids will surely be well fed. 

Steve shrugs, and if you weren’t so tired you’d think the blush on his face was a real one. “It’s the least I can do, all things considered.”

His words give you pause. You know he’s referencing earlier today, back in the alley where fists slammed against skin and he had dragged you away from your best friend, but the memory feels like years ago. So much has happened since then, Steve has saved your life since then. 

“Steve…” Your ankle is starting to sting again from standing for so long, so you adjust your footing and try to figure out what you want to say. “I never got to thank you back at Jonathan’s.”

“Thank me?” His face scrunches in confusion in a sickeningly cute way that it almost distracts you.

“Yes. You saved my life tonight, Steve. I won’t ever forget that.” 

“Oh…There’s no need to thank me. I mean, what are friends for?” Steve freezes and clears his throat. “I mean, shit. We aren’t friends, you keep saying that. Sorry. You know what I mean.”

You know you shouldn’t, but you laugh. Honestly, after everything you’ve been through tonight with Steve, how can he possibly think the two of you aren’t friends?

“Why are you laughing?” Steve mumbles, confused. 

“Sorry,” you wheeze out, still uncontrollably laughing. “It’s just–I mean, dude! We almost died together, of course we’re friends now!”

“We are?” He looks like a little kid on Christmas day being given the gift he’s always wanted.

Your heart warms. “Yes, idiot.”

Steve starts moving around in what you can only guess is a happy dance. “Sweet! Does this mean I get a cool nickname, too?”

“A nickname?” A bag of chips threatens to fall from your arms, but Steve catches it before it can land on the ground and takes a few more snacks off of your hands. 

He readjusts the snacks he now has so that he can carry them easier. “Yeah, I mean. Byers has one, why can’t I?”

You don’t think you’ll ever stop feeling so thrown every time Steve mentions a small detail about you that he’s somehow come to notice. He has a habit of doing that, surprising you by how much he seems to pay attention to you. You thought that no one ever had before, but Steve continues to prove you wrong. 

“I’ll tell ya what,” you begin to walk back towards the waiting room, careful to step carefully to not drop anything or upset your ankle. “Let’s see how this ‘friends’ thing works out, then I’ll decide what nickname fits you best. Deal?”

Steve thinks for a moment and follows. “Hmm. I don’t know, I think I’ll need some type of precaution to make sure you give me a nickname in the end. I want one, Y/N. I’m so serious right now.”

You laugh at his pleading tone. “I can add you to my baking list. Whatever I bake, you’ll get a piece of it. Is that better?”

“God, yes!” Steve punches the air and cheers. 

You’re smiling so much that your face aches. You haven’t felt this light and carefree in so long, you’d almost forgotten what it’s like. The two of you don’t say anything else as you walk back to the waiting room, though Steve seems to slow down so that you don’t hurt your ankle keeping up, though you still let out a few winces and groans.

When you’ve arrived back at your seat, Steve sets down the snacks and runs off without another word. You’re confused by his sudden departure but don’t think much of it. Instead, you wake the boys up and show them your array of snacks, which wakes them up immediately. 

You’re mediating a fight between Mike and Lucas over who gets the bag of Chips Ahoy when a nurse interrupts. “Excuse me, ma’am. This young man over here told me I should come over and check out your ankle?”

The woman smiles and you look past her and see Steve sheepishly waving from his seat across from you. You’re stunned. Had he really gone out of his way to ensure your ankle gets treated?

You shake the thoughts out of your head and inform the woman all she needs to know. You tell her how you’d fallen and what type of pain you feel when you stand up. She inspects the ankle, her fingers cold but kind, and within a few minutes has diagnosed you with a sprained ankle. 

“All you can really do is stay off of it for a few weeks while it heals. I can go and get you some crutches, if you’d like?” She asks, rolling her gloves off and tucking them back into her pocket.

You nod. “If you wouldn’t mind, that’d be great.”

The nurse leaves with the promise of being back soon. In the meantime she instructs you to keep your ankle elevated, so you prop it against the coffee table and wait. You’re annoyed that you even have to have crutches, but then you think of Barb, of El. You’re luckier than you should be. 

– 

After an hour or so, Jonathan opens the door to the waiting room. He spots you and Mike talking softly with each other and whistles over to catch your attention. When Mike looks up, Jonathan nods at him and the boy scrambles out of his seat. 

“Guys! Guys! He’s up, Will is up!” Mike shakes awake Lucas and Dustin, who had been cuddling on the seats fast asleep. “Will’s up!”

Once they’re awake, they quickly follow after Mike and the three boys are gone in an instant, sprinting down the hall towards Will’s room. Clearly they’re eager to see their friend. 

You do your best to get up as fast as possible, but your new crutches serve more as a nuisance rather than an aid. As you struggle to get up, somehow knocking over the mountain of snacks, Steve rushes over. 

He grabs the crutches and offers you his hand. “Here, careful.”

“Thanks,” you awkwardly accept his hand and get up. Jonathan watches from the doorway, a curious look on his face. Nancy does the same from her seat, not saying a word as she watches Steve gently help you navigate the waiting room with your injury. 

Jonathan holds the door open for you and takes over once you’re out the door. He grabs the crutches from Steve and is now the one to hold your hand, balancing you. “I can take it from here, Harrington.”

“Right, yeah.” Steve scratches the back of his head and coughs. “I’ll just… yeah.” 

He heads back inside and you and Jonathan watch as he leaves. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jonathan turns to you. “Are you two friends now or something?”

“We almost died tonight, bee. I think it’s safe to call Steve a friend now.”

Jonathan bites his lip, though there’s a far off look in his eye that leaves you feeling like you’ve missed something in the conversation. “Guess that’s true. Anyways, let’s get you to Will.”

By the time you make it to the room, the boys have swarmed around Will and are telling him everything he’s missed this week. He’s listening eagerly as they’re telling him about El, but when he sees you enter the room, his eyes light up and he tries to sit up. 

“Y/N!” Will calls out, pure excitement in his voice. 

You practically fall over in your haste to get to him. The second you’re close enough, you collapse onto his bed and give him the tightest hug you possibly can without hurting him. He feels so small against you, smaller than he’s ever felt before, and his sunken eyes and pale skin make you want to cry. 

But he’s alive and here and in your arms once again, happy and wonderful and safe. 

“Little bee,” you try not to cry, but tears are thick in your voice. “I missed you.”

Will manages a weak smile and shrugs, trying to play off the gravity of the situation. “Took a little detour home.” 

You laugh and ruffle his hair. “At least you came home, that’s all that matters.”

“Ahem,” Mike obnoxiously clears his throat, effectively ending your moment with Will. “You’re hogging Will, move over.” 

You laugh again and move away, allowing the boys to resume their millions of updates. You maneuver your crutches and walk over to Jonathan, who is standing by the door. He’s looking at the boys and Will with a soft smile on his face and you join him, standing side by side as you watch your boys finally come together again. 

Then, you feel a pair of eyes on you and you turn around. Nancy is leaning against the doorway behind you; she looks frail and distraught. There’s a sadness in her eyes as she watches the kids. You know that watching the boys reunite with their friend must remind her of Barb. She never got her happy reunion. 

You feel awful for the girl, so when her bittersweet smile drops and she turns to leave the room, you nudge Jonathan to make him aware of the situation. He sees her fleeing and begins to follow after her, but he stops. 

“What are you waiting for? Go.” You tell him, knowing it’s for the best. 

He shifts his weight, uncertain. “Are you sure?”

You’re not sure how to decipher the hidden meanings underneath those three words, but you find that you’re exhausted trying to keep reading between the lines. The feelings you’ve kept buried bubble to the surface, but you remind yourself that he loves Nancy, despite your weird moments of almost with him. There’s something there between you and Jonathan, you both can feel it, but it feels too raw and fragile to bring into the light. 

Without having to ask, you know that Jonathan will choose her. 

It breaks your heart, but you look over at Dustin and Will, who are laughing about some joke while Joyce gazes at them fondly, and you know that you can’t lose this. Maybe Jonathan knows this, too. The small family you’ve built together, it’s too precious to ruin. 

Joyce and your boys, you can’t lose them. They’re yours, and Jonathan is yours in a way that you can’t quite keep to yourself forever, but for now it’s enough. You approach Joyce, grab her hand and give her a tired smile, and the smile she returns to you reminds you that this is more than enough for you. 

You turn to Jonathan, pushing down your feelings once more in favor of appreciating the fact that Will is looking at you again, alive. “Go, bee.” 

Jonathan gives you one last look. You study his face for a moment, watching as it shifts from confusion, to hurt, then finally into acceptance. You’ll never be sure of what exactly he’d been thinking in that moment, but it seemed to have been enough for him, too.

He smiles, lets out a deep breath, and then leaves.

The door closes softly behind him. 

– 

A month later you find yourself in the passenger seat of Jonathan's car, tired from your shift at Bookstrordinary but excited to pick up your brothers. Somehow, even after missing three consecutive shifts last month, Mrs. Waters refused to fire you. 

But Jonathan? He hadn’t been so lucky. His boss fired him from the Hawk, but he hadn’t been too upset. He still drives you to and from work, so you suppose things could be worse. 

It’s late, but the two of you take your time driving to the Wheeler’s. Nothing much has changed between you two following Will’s reappearance. Sure, maybe you’re at his house more just to make sure Will is adapting well, but besides that everything seemed to go back to normal. 

Well, almost normal. 

Steve appeared at your job a few days after your conversation in the hospital. He had surprised you when you walked in, and when you asked what he was doing in a bookstore, Steve simply shrugged and said, “You can’t figure out my nickname if we don’t hang out, right? So, I’m here.”

He had become a regular at the store, stopping by whenever he could, and slowly the two of you became good friends. You’ve come to enjoy Steve’s presence, something that you never thought would ever happen. But he keeps you company as you work, he wanders around and explores the comics and books you recommend to him, and it’s nice having someone to goof off with. 

Plus, you did promise to add him to your baking list, so he’s also become your taste tester who happily eats any creation you bring in for him.

As for Nancy…

That was more of a sore subject for Jonathan. 

There was a few weeks following Will’s reappearance that you thought Jonathan and Nancy would get together, but it never happened. You’re not quite sure why, maybe it had something to do with Jonathan’s hesitation of approaching her, but it had crushed him when you and he saw Nancy and Steve making out in the hall as if nothing bad had ever happened. 

The way Jonathan’s face crumbled when he saw the couple only solidified that he’d never be yours, but you comforted him anyways. You told him he deserved better and then dragged him away. It’d taken him a few days, but eventually Jonathan was able to fake a smile again. 

You haven’t spoken about it since that day, but you leave your window open most nights for him to crawl in. The nightmares from that night fighting the monster plague you both, and the loneliness feels a little heavier than usual, but at least you have each other. 

“Jonathan! Y/N! Come in, the boys are downstairs.” Mrs. Wheeler answers the door, letting the two of you in. “And Y/N, I love that sweater on you.”

You thank the woman. “It was a gift from my mom. She claims I need to up my wardrobe, whatever that means.”

“Well, I think she has lovely taste.” 

“I’ll let you know you think so!” You open the basement door and motion for Jonathan to go down first. 

When he reaches the bottom of the steps, Jonathan makes a face. “Woah, what’s that smell? Have you guys been playing games all day, or just farting?”

“My vote is farting.” You say, hopping down the last step. Your ankle has mostly healed by now, but sometimes if you land on it wrong it makes a weird clicking noise followed by some pain, but you choose to pretend that it’s normal. 

The boys laugh and Lucas points at your brother. “Oh, that’s just Dustin. He farted.”

He begins making fart noises with his mouth and you and Dustin share a look. “Very mature, Lucas.”

The boy continues to sing and make fart noises and you can’t believe that this is your life. You’re standing in a smelly basement while picking up your stubborn brother all while simultaneously enjoying the fact that you get to call this your life. 

Jonathan calls over to Will to grab his things, so you follow suit and gently berate Lucas. “Alright, that’s enough. I gotta get Dustin home.”

“What, I thought I got to stay–”

“Jonathan is our ride and I made cookies, so let’s go.”

The moment the word “cookies” leaves your mouth, Dustin hops up and collects his things without any further argument. 

Once he’s ready, he and Lucas play wrestle as they say goodbye. While they’re distracted, you walk over to Mike and discreetly hand him a container full of double fudge brownies. You’d specifically made them for him, knowing they were his favorite, because you noticed how hard it’s been for him to adjust to El being gone. He really cared about her, anyone could see that. 

Mike’s eyes widen and he throws his arms around you. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You pat his back. “Anytime, Wheeler.”

Dustin breaks away from Lucas and runs up the stairs, so you take that as your cue to leave. 

Upstairs, Jonathan and Will are talking to Mrs. Wheeler. When they see you enter, the woman turns to you and asks if you’ll be bringing over your usual round of holiday treats. “Of course, I’ll get started on them tomorrow. You guys still like the sugarbread cookies?”

“If you make them, I think I’ll die of happiness.” Mrs. Wheeler informs you, and you laugh and tell her that you’ll have them ready as soon as possible. 

You bid her goodbye, Dustin now by your side, and you follow Jonathan and Will to the front door. Right before you open the door, Nancy calls Jonathan’s name from the top of the stairs. 

“Hey, Jonathan, wait up!” 

You, Dustin, and Will stand awkwardly in the back while Nancy hands Jonathan a wrapped gift and wishes him a merry Christmas. They share an awkward exchange since Jonathan hadn’t gotten her anything, but Nancy assures him that it’s fine. The interaction is painful to watch as Nancy doesn’t spare you a single glance. Dustin and Will look at you uncertainly when she kisses Jonathan’s cheek, but you ignore them and pretend to be interested in a Christmas decoration on the table.

This will never get any easier. 

“You ready?” Jonathan turns back to you guys, a blush on his face, and all you can do is silently nod. 

In the car you sit in the back with Dustin, who squeezes your arm in reassurance. He’s come to understand your complex feelings for Jonathan and has pieced together Nancy’s involvement. While he’s never outright consoled you, he’s shown his support in other small and wonderful ways. 

“Thanks,” you whisper, and Dustin smiles. 

“We all buckled up?” Jonathan asks as he starts up the car. 

“Yes, captain.” You mock salute. 

Will giggles at you before he sees the gift and looks up at Jonathan. “Can I open it?”

“Yeah, sure.” 

You and Dustin lean forward so you can see what’s in the box. When Will unwraps a beautiful, and no doubt expensive, camera, you gasp. The bitterness and hurt from moments ago vanishes. This gift is from Steve, you know it is, and something warm settles deep within your bones. 

You think about last month, how you’d told him not everyone can just afford a camera. 

Seems like Steve listened. 

Maybe he isn’t so bad after all. 

– 

A week later you knock on the Byers’ door, a giant container of your annual holiday cookies in your arms. 

“Bug!” Jonathan answers the door with an excited smile on his face. His new camera is in his hands and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s already taken a photo of you with your crooked earmuffs and oversized box of cookies.

He’s been using the camera ever since he got it. There’s now multiple pictures of you, always unaware or caught off guard, now hanging in the kitchen. It makes you blush to think about. 

“You didn’t even give me a chance to smile.” You complain, shoving your way inside. It’s snowing and you’re freezing. 

Joyce grabs the container to help you as soon as she sees you. “Here, honey. I’ve got it.”

You thank her and walk over to Will, who is drawing at the kitchen table. “Hey little bee. Whatcha drawing?”

“Hi, Y/N.” He slides over his picture and you’re shown a quick sketch of you and the party, this time fighting what appears to be a misshapen dog. “It’s a Dire Wolf, we’re fighting it in our latest campaign.”

“Ah, I see. Looks fluffy, though. Can’t possibly be a dangerous creature.”

Will rolls his eyes at you. “This is why you don’t play with us.”

“Careful, you’re sassing the girl who has just bravely ridden her bike through the snow to deliver her famous Christmas cookies.”

Will is out of his seat in an instant, running over to his mom, who has just placed the container on the counter. “Did you make the oatmeal raisin cookies?”

“Duh,” you snort. 

“And the chocolate chip?”

“I sure did.” You stand next to him and point at a new cookie you’re trying out this year. “This batch is a caramel banana one. Steve seemed to like it and I think it’s pretty good, so I hope you do too.”

Jonathan swoops over and kisses your head. “Of course we’ll like it, bug.”

“He’s right, you know. We always love whatever you make us, honey.” Joyce informs you, her mouth now full of cookies. 

“I’d hope so, this is like my fifth year making these for you guys. It’d be awkward if you hated my baking.” You say, now securing your earmuffs back on your head. “Anyways, I should get going. It’s Christmas, my mom won’t want me out too long.” 

Joyce looks out the window and frowns. “Did you really bike here in this weather?”

“It wasn’t too bad, I’ll be fine–”

“No. Jonathan, grab your keys and drive Y/N home.” She stares you down, daring you to argue with her, but you don’t. You know better than to argue with Joyce Byers. 

Once Jonathan has his keys, you say goodbye to everyone and wish them a merry Christmas. Jonathan throws your bike in his trunk and soon you’re off on the road. The drive is quiet but cozy. The snowflakes fall in a pretty spiral and there’s a soft song playing on the radio. 

Sometimes, if you close your eyes, you can pretend that the events from last month never happened. Will never disappeared. You never discovered that you love Jonathan. Nancy Wheeler never became friends with Jonathan, possibly something more had there been more time. When you close your eyes and sit still, you can imagine that your brother never has nightmares that wake him up screaming. That your heart doesn’t hurt when you make your best friend laugh. 

For a moment, you can forget. 

“Can we always stay like this?” You ask Jonathan softly, almost as if you’ll disturb the peace that winter has brought with its quiet snow. 

“Like what?”

You’re not sure how to express what you’re feeling. “This, us. Together.”

“Of course we’ll always stay like this.” He grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss it. He says this like it’s a fact, the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Pinky promise me.” You hold your pinky up. You know it’s silly, but you need him to hear you, to understand what you’re saying.

Jonathan looks over at you. “Y/N–”

“Please, promise me, bee.”

He’s silent for a moment, seeming to understand the weight of everything between, around, and within the two of you. Then, he extends his pinky finger and wraps it around yours. “I promise, bug.” 

And you believe him.

[END OF SEASON 1]

-

⌑ series masterlist

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[thebearer]

lips absence making ronan just not having a connection with him. and ronan is 1000% mamas boy, so even when your super pregnant ronan still needs to be held and when lip tries to take him it’s ww3 getting ronan away from you

i don't think it would be an absence with the kids because he knows 1) you'd leave him right then and there, and 2) he wouldn't be able to live with himself genuinely. he never actually leaves (unless you kick him out to cool off bc you're both fighting) but he's not leaving leaving. he's absent more in the way of just not in the moment. always looks like he's somewhere else. might be there physically but not emotionally.

still, ronan is such a mama's boy, he picks up on it subconsciously. he'd still so little when you get pregnant, a little over a year old when you're pretty heavily pregnant. he just wants to cuddle and cling to you all day, but it gets pretty hard to with your growing bump.

lip tries to take him to bed one night. you're supposed to be on bed rest, not moving a lot- definitely not lifting a baby. ronan sobs- wails for you.

heart broken "ma-ma!"'s all the way down the hall, and you're emotional as it is, but it tears your heart right down the middle.

lip is in hell trying to get him to settle. all he wants is you. he's not a very mean baby, never super fussy or dramatic (not like freddie and jude) but he is then. agitated, angry, upset, won't settle at all.

"just let me have him." you whisper after the last hour of ronan's sobs.

"hey, no. you're not supposed to be up-" lip frowns.

you roll your eyes at him, reaching for ronan who stretched for you. "no," lip turns. "you can't lift him. the doctor said-"

"-i'll be fine." you huff. "jude and freddie have school tomorrow, and he's going to make himself sick crying like this. i'll be alright."

lip's still not giving in. his ego is hurt, his pride too. why he couldn't get ronan to settle, he wasn't sure, but it was driving him insane.

he finally agrees to keep him in the bed with you two for the night. keeps you in it, and keeps ronan happy.

[wosoamazing]

Barça v Arsenal

Summary: Based on a request I can’t find, someone wanted a Barça x Arsenal match for the series.

Warnings: Start of a panic attack but doesn't actually happen. Mentions of pregnancy and I guess morning sickness

A/N: Match is fake obviously - trying to find some happiness in Lia’s injury….. Also it’s quite short and not the best but at least it is something.

You were pacing the length of the locker room, trying to shake the fact that you were about to verse your third family, Arsenal, with the hopes of pummeling them. “Can you stop you’re making me nervous,” someone commented, you were too in your head to know who it was, “no,” you bluntly replied while still pacing, you felt the fear start to rise though as your heart rate increased ever so slightly and it was becoming slightly harder to breath.

“Okay everyone it’s probably time to warm up, Y/N/N and I will meet you all out there” Alexia instructed the team.

“Bebita,” she waited but didn’t get a response, “Y/N/N it’s going to be okay,” “but what if its not, we have to beat them, I have-” you were stopped by Alexia who pulled you in for a hug, “Stop rambling, you will be fine. You are amazing, you’re going to show them all up, Sì?” “Sì”

_____

The game is going well, well better that well. Barça is 6 goals up and there is still 30 mins left in the game, you won a 1v1 with Leah and smirked at her “Guess I am the better Williamson now,” “We’ll see about that”

In the 89th minute you had a perfect opportunity, you kicked the ball, and it went through Leah’s legs before it found the back of the net.

“You just nutmegged me” you just shrugged as you walked away, “oh what don't even celebrate goals now?” “Nah score to many of them,” you smirk back to your sister, before the ref blew the whistle. 

At that moment Leah really expected you to go to her first, she was just right there and you hadn’t seen each other in so long, but you didn't you sprinted over to Alexia and sprung into her arms, she caught you with ease, like it was something that you do often, spinning you around before she put you down.

Lia walked over to stand behind your sister who was standing with Beth, Steph, and Viv, she was looking over at you though. Lia wrapped her arms around Leah’s waist, before whispering something to her, “She’ll come over, just give her a moment, and it’s good she isn’t coming over straight away, it means she really does like it there, I mean look at them all.” Leah nodded, she knew her girlfriend was right, but she still couldn’t help the feeling that she had been replaced by Alexia.

“Brace for impact” Leah looked at Steph as she saw you running over, you jumped up on Steph.

“I think you’re getting too big for that now,” “Nah, I’m not even an adult yet.” You wake around to Leah and she wrapped her arms around you. “I missed you,” “I missed you too bug, but we get to spend tonight and tomorrow together,” you nodded, before turning around in her arms, so you could face the others.

“You were amazing today,” Steph said “Thanks, I miss you all.” “We miss you too, you know-” “Shit kid you’re insane, you literally are amazing” Katie said as she ran over to join you all. 

“I’m just going to go check on Lia, you keep talking, I’ll come get you when it’s time to leave” Your sister told you quietly, you nodded before you looked over to see Lia, she was heading down the tunnel.

_____

“Y/N, ready to go?” Leah eyes you up and down, “Um, I’ll have a shower at home,” You had been so busy talking to everyone you hadn’t had time to have a shower and change.

“Okay, Lia is already in the car, so just meet us there, because I’m assuming you have to go return someone” she gestured to Harper who you had held in your arms, you nodded before going your separate ways, you followed Mini and Kyra to their car and put Harper in her carseat, before walking over to to where Leah and Lia were sitting in the car. As you opened the door you noticed Lia looked a little pale and almost as if she had been crying. She held onto her water bottle tightly. You were slightly confused, as she seemed fine earlier, but maybe it was due to whatever injury she had.

“You know bug, you would be a fantastic aunt,” Leah let slip as she started the car.

“Huh,” you saw Lia give your sister a mixed look, you weren't really sure what it was communicating, but you figured out pretty quickly what was going on “Wait, no, really?” your voice got embarrassingly higher with each word.

“Yes Bug really, but you can’t tell anyone, we hadn’t planned to tell you today but I mean you probably would’ve figured it out, considering I’m not actually injured, plus the sickness.” Lia responded to you, it now made sense why she looked like she did when you got in the car, “But Bug, you have to promise not to tell anyone. No one else knows, we only got the results back from the clinic yesterday,” your sister added.

“I promise I won’t, but I’m so excited for you both, you’re going to be great Mums. Also I’m sorry for making you wait for me, I just-” “it’s okay, don’t worry, I’m just glad you got to see everyone and that we get to spend time together”

“Can we name the baby Y/N?” 

[chishiyasleftnut]

Is there going to be more parts to stuck with you where chishiya redeems himself I guess

IM BAAAAAACK! ٩(◕‿◕)۶

Thank you for your request and patience, it’s been a rough couple of months. I’ve always wanted to make an insane author note and it’s finally my time to shine:

I had a mental breakdown, got hospitalised due to it, had to fight to get sick leave from my studies (I was supposed to be done with my bachelor’s now so rip that), and then when things finally lined up I GOT A CONCUSSION. So, it’s been a rough couple of months but now I’m back and unstoppable (⌐■_■) 

Anyway, I hope you’ll like this story!

Stuck With You (part 3)

(Read part 1 and part 2 here)

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 Genre: Smut Warnings: Smut. Includes oral (both female and male receiving), penetration (female receiving), unprotected sex. Pairing: Chishiay x fem!reader

Plot: After spending the night together in more than one way, Chishiya finds it hard to keep his hands off of you - even in a life and death situation. The real question is: what have you two become?

3082 words. 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You felt as if you had barely closed your eyes when you were rudely awakened by chirping birds, sunlight shining through the thin and cheap material that the tent was made of. With a big yawn, you sat up in the tent, stretching your sore limbs before looking to your left where Chishiya had spent the last few nights, expecting to see him laying besides you with dishevelled hair as he always had in the mornings. To your surprise, he was nowhere to be found.

“I swear to God if this was some weird type of ‘hit-it then quit-it” I’m going to tear him to shreds the next time we meet,” you mumbled, immediately getting flashbacks to previous similar situations.

With no other choice than to continue your day, you got dressed in silence before emerging out of the tent. And there he was: carefully fidgeting with something you couldn’t quite make out. His head turned towards the sound of the tent zipper unzipping.

“Morning, princess,” he smirked. “Did you sleep well?”

“I slept fine.” That was a lie and you both knew it. You looked like a hot mess with dark blue bags under your eyes and your hair all tangled up. “I thought you ditched me, I won’t lie.”

“Do you think so little of me?” he said, his grin only growing more annoying by the second.

You shrugged to avoid the question - truth be told you still weren’t sure where you had him - and moved closer to him, sitting down next to him on the grass and looking at whatever he was creating. Noticing your peaked interest, he replied to your silent question.

“It’s a stun grenade. Probably not deadly, but it’ll do some damage,” he said nonchalantly. Noticing your confusion, he continued. “I thought it would be a good distraction if we run into problems. It might buy us some time if we need to run.”

“I didn’t know you could run.”

Although the air that huffed out of his nose told you that he found your remark funny, he decided not to reply to your snarky comment.

“Anyway, it’s good to have, isn’t it?” he asked.

You shrugged again, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of him knowing once again that he was right. Why did he always have to think so far ahead? It was annoying you relentlessly how he was right more often than he was wrong. It was Chishiya who spoke first, looking at the stun grenade before stuffing it in his left pocket.

“There’s a hearts game,” he said while pointing distantly towards the sky.

Your heart sunk. Playing a hearts game with an ally was either incredibly beneficial or terribly traumatising. Although you wouldn’t say it out loud, you didn’t want to risk losing Chishiya and you had a feeling that he agreed. Actually, who were you kidding, you knew very well that Chishiya would sacrifice you without a second thought way before you had the chance to sacrifice him. Still, it felt unnecessarily risky.

“Do we have to attend it?”

“Mhm, it’s the closest one to us.”

And that was that. With no counter arguments, you both picked up a few belongings and headed towards the big banner floating above who knew what. Jack of Hearts.

The venue was an old prison. The big iron door which encapsulated the depressing location eerily creaked as you carefully entered the slowly deteriorating building. Of all the games sites you had been at, this was definitely up there in creepiness. With each step you took, you got reminded of the horrors this place had once been home to. You shivered at the thought, trying your best to conceal your feelings about the location.

Much to Chishiya’s dismay, you were required to hand in all potentially dangerous belongings before you could enter the game. Chishiya kissed his teeth and reluctantly let go of the stun grenade he had spent all morning on assembling.

“A shame,” he said monotonously. “Seems like I won’t get to test my creation.”

You muttered a silent thank God under your breath. The idea of a homemade stun grenade didn’t seem very safe to you, and with your luck it would somehow explode in his hands and kill the both of you.

“Did you say something?”

Crap. He heard you. It was like he had super-human hearing at times.

“No,” you lied, causing Chishiya to sneer. Nonetheless, he luckily dropped the subject.

The game started not long after you put on the collar supplied to you by the game masters (whoever the hell that was). The metal was cold, but otherwise it wasn’t particularly uncomfortable. That was good, considering you had to wear it for an unknown amount of time.

The rules were simple. Each person’s collar showed a symbol which you had to announce every hour in a private jail cell. Easy enough, right? The only catch: you couldn’t see this symbol by yourself. The collar was placed in such a way that it was impossible to do so. The obvious solution would be to use a reflective surface - something that was regrettably forbidden by the rules. If you said the wrong symbol: game over. That meant the game was one big exercise in trust with the sole goal of killing off the unidentified Jack of Hearts.

You breathed a sigh of relief when you realised you would not be forced to be in a position where you or Chishiya could get hurt. You trusted each other, right? At least more than you trusted the other strangers in the prison. This would be fine.

And for the first time in what felt like years, it was fine. What you hadn’t considered was how God awful boring this game would be, giving you nothing to do but eat snacks and talk for hours. There were already clear alliances formed amongst the players, causing the Jack to hide safely amongst an unsuspected group of players until someone inevitably fucked up and mistrusted their group.

The boredom had started to hit both you and Chishiya hard. Although he tried to hide it, you knew there were only so many packages of biscuits one man could eat before he went insane. It therefore shouldn’t have surprised you when he pulled you aside at the beginning of the 4th round.

“What are you-“ you managed to exclaim before Chishiya covered your mouth and dragged you into his cell.

“Shhh,” he said with a smirk, looking rather pleased with his plan to waste some time. He immediately yet carefully closed the heavy cell door, making sure not to slam it shut. “Be quiet, we don’t want everyone to hear, now do we?”

“Hear what exactly?”

Despite your confusion, you instinctively lowered your voice to comply with his request. You had long ago stopped questioning Chishiya on these things.

“We’re both bored, aren’t we? I can think of a thing or two we could do to make the time go by faster.”

And that’s when you got it. Sex. He wanted sex in the middle of a game. This wasn’t the Chishiya you knew back at the Beach - that Chishiya would never have been willing to be vulnerable at all, much less during a game.

“What, am I that addicting?” you joked, snaking your arms around the back of his neck. It wasn’t like you were about to complain over or resist his offer. If you spent one more round doing nothing you might actually have died from boredom.

“Very much so,” he admitted, his own hands finding their way to your waist.

It felt good knowing you were wanted - and by Chishiya of all people. Feeling a rush of confidence, you initiated the first kiss, pressing your lips against his firmly. As expected, Chishiya immediately reciprocated, gently leading you towards the wall and pushing you up against it without breaking contact with your sweet lips.

When Chishiya’s hand left your waist to sneak under the waistline of your pants, his mind occupied with lewd thoughts of what was to come, you took the opportunity to switch the position around, taking him by surprise as you pivoted and pushed him forcefully against the cold wall.

The look on his face was priceless, but you didn’t have time to bask in the rays of satisfaction you felt. Instead, you dropped to your knees and placed both hands on his thighs, making sure to look at him up through your eyelashes.

Without hesitation, you hooked your fingers under his sweatpants and pulled them down, revealing his half hard dick. You broke eye contact to gaze at his length, examining the thing that made you feel pure bliss the night before. The thoughts of last night’s encounter made your mouth salivate, causing you to gulp down the excess saliva.

You must have been staring for a while, completely absorbed in the memories, and fully disconnected from reality, because you suddenly felt Chishiya’s hand grabbing yours, gently guiding your fingers around his half-erect dick. You understood what that meant, immediately going to work on making him harder, gliding your hand up and down his entire length, watching as it grew and grew.

Once you noticed small droplets of pre-cum oozing from the tip, you placed your flattened tongue at the base of his dick before sliding it up all the way. Not having expected the sudden change of sensation, Chishiya shuddered and gasped in one breath, his hand moving into your hair.

You flicked your tongue over the sensitive head, enjoying the way his hardness twitched each time the slightly rough yet at the same time soft tissue of your tongue brushed over the tip. Satisfied with the reaction this got you - and feeling as if you had made him wait long enough already - you opened your mouth just wide enough to take him in his entirety, letting his dick fill up your throat as you took him down to the root.

“Fuck,” you faintly heard Chishiya mutter, your other senses almost completely dulled by the feeling of Chishiya’s length occupying your esophagus.

As Chishiya adjusted to the warmth and tightness of your throat, his fingers entangled in your hair. He pulled on it ever so slightly, silently begging you to fuck him with your mouth. And you did, diligently bobbing your head up and down, savouring the feel and taste of him with each movement.

Just as you felt like you had gotten into a good rhythm, Chishiya pulled your head away from his body, your mouth leaving him with a wet, pop sound. He shuddered slightly at the cold air which had so suddenly hit his now wet skin before he pulled his pants back up.

He noticed your confused eyes, but instead of speaking he pulled you up on your feet and guided you towards what you could only imagine was the prison cell’s bed. The bed (if you could even call the cold metal slap that hopefully once had held a mattress a bed) wasn’t exactly comfortable, but neither was the shitty two-man tent in which you two last shared a moment. At least you had more space now than you did last night, opening up for more possibilities.

With a small push, Chishiya got you seated on the metal before kneeling down on the floor in front of you, swiftly pulling off your pants and underpants and seating himself between your legs. The coldness from the metal now directly against your bare buttocks didn’t exactly feel nice, but luckily for you it didn’t take long before he hiked both of his arms underneath your thighs and lifted your lower body up against his face, so you were doing a shoulder stand.

Wasting no time, he immediately plunged his tongue into the depth of your core, licking up your arousal as if he had been wandering around a desert for days with no water. Your sounds went from confusion caused by the awkward position to deep pleasure in record time, your moans being harder and harder to suppress when he finally flicked his tongue over your so far heavily neglected clit. He hummed and growled as he indulged in your taste, the vibrations from his mouth only furthering your arousal and excitement.

His tongue was working overtime, alternating between circling your love button and pushing deep inside of you. You were so zoned out from reality, entering an almost trance-like state brought on by his tongue, that you barely noticed his hand moving down your body, sliding underneath your shirt until it reached your breast. There, Chishiya snaked around your bra and began massaging your boob, occasionally putting extra focus on your sensitive nipple.

Despite the objectively rather awkward and uncomfortable position, you soon enough felt a cascade of pleasure engulf your entire being as Chishiya’s mouth helped you reach your climax. Chishiya didn’t stop - instead he continued to flick his tongue around your most sensitive area, accompanying you through every last pulsation your core made. Once your hand-muffled moans had turned into soft whimpers, he put you down and wiped his mouth with his arm.

Now that you were fully horizontal again, you began feeling the aches in your neck. Perhaps doing a shoulder stand for God knows how long, on a metal bed, was not the best choice. Chishiya too looked as if he was internally questioning his decision to eat you out like that, but he wasn’t a quitter. Not wanting to waste even a second more than he had to, he stood back up and pulled down his sweatpants, his hard length slapping against his stomach once freed.

His dick didn’t even need extra attention before he was set to go. It was so perfectly ready for you; hard, red, throbbing, with a bead of precum adorning the tip. It was almost beautiful - well as beautiful as a dick can be. You didn’t get to admire it for long before he climbed on top of you, pushing your body further down on the metal bed and immediately entering you once on top of you.

With his dick buried so deep inside of you that it almost felt like he was piercing through to your stomach, Chishiya began thrusting in and out of you, his tip forcefully slamming against your cervix each time. You were well aware that you were supposed to be quiet and yet you couldn’t help the moans and whimpers that left your lips. Chishiya quickly covered your mouth with his hand, shusshing into your ear through his own low groans.

Your hands found their way around Chishiya’s torso, gripping tightly onto the soft fabric of his hoodie. Had he not been wearing said hoodie your nails would have painfully been digging into his skin, leaving marks for hours to come. Luckily for his back that was not the case and he barely even noticed how tightly you were clinging onto him.

“I’m gonna-” you began saying into his hand, your words muffled. To everyone else, the sounds would have been unintelligible, but Chishiya knew exactly what you were trying to say.

“Come,” he demanded, growling the command into your ear.

Your mind completely blanked after that, your body only able to feel the immense pleasure that was flowing through every fibre of your being, raising every little hair on your arms and igniting nerves you didn’t know existed. The intense pulsation from your core caused Chishiya to finish soon after, his dick rhythmically spouting his seed deep inside of you.

You both rode out your high together, Chishiya eventually collapsing down on you, grounding you further down on the hard, metal bed. The only sound audible in the room was that of heavy breathing. That was until Chishiya suddenly stood up and redressed his lower half. You raised your eyebrows at his promptness, something that he noticed.

“We can’t stay in here all day. We have a game to play,” he said. Perhaps you were imagining it, but you swore you could see the faintest satisfied smirk on his lips.

You had no reply, but instead followed suit and put you pants back on. As you stood up you felt the sensation of Chishiya’s seed slowly seeping out of you, but you tried to ignore it. It wasn’t like there were tissues laying around to help with that right now.

The silence in the room was thick, a contrast to the sounds of pleasure that only a few minutes prior had faintly echoed around the bare room. That was, until you bravely decided to ask the question that had been on your mind since last night.

“So, what are we?” you asked, trying to sound more confident than you were. He, of course, saw right through you. He always did.

“I don’t know, what are we?” he repeated like a parrot, avoiding answering the question. You knew it was because he loved toying you around. Perhaps you liked being toyed with too, but that felt more like something you should discuss with a therapist than with Chishiya.

“No no no, I asked you first.”

He didn’t reply. Of course he didn’t, that would have been too easy of him. Instead, he opened the cell door again and gestured towards the hallway outside.

“We have a game to finish.”

And that was that. You knew you wouldn’t get a better answer out of him - not today at least - so you followed his lead, exiting the jail cell and pretending as if you hadn’t spent the last small hour with Chishiya rearranging your guts.

The following rounds were slowly getting more and more dramatic, with the other groups disbanding due to betrayals and a general sense of unease spreading through the prison. In that regard, you were quite lucky that you had Chishiya. Even more so when he eventually cracked the code and helped you both survive the game unarmed.

Together you silently walked back to the little camp that you had created and mutely crawled back into the tent. No words were spoken as you both laid flatly down on the mats next to each other. What was there to say? Bringing up the game would do nothing but remind you of the precarious situation you were in. Bringing up what happened during the game would require both of you to openly discuss feelings. Yeah, no. Silence was the right option. At least for tonight.

[PART FOUR HERE]

[luveline]

jadey - HONEY - listenlistenlisten, so I feel like you said you'd write for hopper?? but if not (because he's not on the official list) please ignore this request! BUT would you be able to write something about hopper visiting reader in the hospital after she was almost posessed by vecna?? whether this is still early stages of relationship or already established, you pick, gorgeous!! (also ik this means no hopper/joyce but personally I prefer hopper/me??) xoxoxo BIG SMOOCHES

ty for your request, love u! ♡

Nobody would ever believe you, but you know it's Hopper from the smell. You've missed him for months, and though the scent of him wore away from his sweatshirt before you thought you had time to memorise it, you know without opening your eyes that it's him sitting beside you. 

Your heart monitor beeps loud and erratic. 

"Don't," he says quietly. "Don't freak out." 

It won't listen to him, how could it? Not even the oily fog of painkillers can dull the reality of him being here, right here, this close. 

"You're supposed to be dead," you croak, peeling your eyes open achingly slowly. 

"Aren't you a little old for teen angst?" he asks. 

He's real. He's real, you're exhausted, you almost died, but he's alive. Tears well in your eyes of their own accord, not a lick of choice in it as Hopper takes your arm into his hand. 

"You look sick," you say tearily. 

"Nice. You look worse."  

"Where's your," —you gesture to his body— "everything?" 

He's lost a dramatic amount of weight, hollows sunk under his eyes. He grins despite your insult and leans back in his chair, hand sliding down toward yours, fingers pushing between your knuckles to twine them together firmly. "Russian weight loss program. Like it?" 

You're honestly not sure. Maybe when the shock has worn off you'll feel strongly either way, but right now it's his obvious alive-ness that takes centre focus. 

"I missed you," you say. You've not even a syllable into 'missed' when your voice disappears, the agony of your admission knocking the air from your lungs in one callous blow. "I missed you so much." 

He squeezes your hand. "I know. I'm sorry." 

You start to sit. Hopper stands and slips his hands behind your shoulders, helping you up with a tenderness you've dreamt about every night since he disappeared. There was no time to define what you were to one another, all these months you've been grieving a maybe, but you know the connection you had was more than real when he reaches down the millisecond you reach up. His lips smashed to your forehead and his big hands spread and searching like he's trying to stop you from falling away from him, you splutter as the air is knocked from your chest again. 

"Sorry I wasn't here to look after you," he says.

He hugs you for so long you figure you must be dreaming. There's a familiarity to his embrace even if the feel of him has changed, security with a little less padding. "What happened to you?" you ask hesitantly. 

"What happened to me? You just had something– someone in your head. You almost broke your neck, you could've died." 

"I'm lucky. I am. It could've been worse." It was worse for others. Your voice wobbles embarrassingly. It doesn't put Hopper off. You used to worry that being younger than him would make you too different; you aren't a kid but you haven't lived a life as agonisingly detailed as he has. You're scared there won't be room in his head for your weight, too, but there always is. "You're back," you say, relieved.

"I'm back." 

You breathe out. 

"Let me see you," he demands, drawing away to check you over. 

Your skin is clammy and has been for days, you weren't sleeping —sleeping meant dreaming. Hearing the toll. You've chased sleep with coffee and caffeine pills and bad TV, each day going a little more insane with wanting Hopper back. There were moments when you knew for sure he was dead, and moments you hated yourself for entertaining the idea. Whatever you deserved, he's here, wiping your sleep crusted eyes with a careful thumb. 

"Well, you're still a sight for sore eyes." 

"Yeah?" you ask, laughing until you cough. "I look good in the gown, right?" 

"Better out of it," he suggests, kissing the top of your head. He lingers there too long. You can read his mind for that single moment. 

He's not happy with himself for letting you face it alone. Which begs the question. What kept him away?

"Hop, where have you been?" you ask gently. 

"I'll tell you everything after you eat something." 

"Me?" 

"I almost forgot how rude you are," he says, rubbing your cheek fondly. "Shit. Like I could forget a thing about you." 

You take his hand from your face to clear a path. "That's romantic. Hit your head while you were gone?" He nods, hangs his head, lets you cover the back of it with your hands. You pull him forward, searching for hair he doesn't have. "What did they do to you?" you murmur sadly. 

"Don't say that. The neck up is as good as it gets." 

"I don't believe that for a second," you say, though you worry about what he means. "You better go find me something to eat. I want to know everything that's happened." 

"Got a waiting room full of people who aren't gonna like that," he says, lifting his head.

"I really, truly don't care," you say, still so softly. "I've been waiting to see you again for a long time. They can… they can walk a mile in my shoes." 

"Whatever you want." Hopper clasps your elbow. "Anything you want." 

[schoenpepper]

Heartslabyul Heartaches: Clover

Intro: Heartslabyul is sick and tired of its own vice housewarden (except for Deuce, he really doesn't know what's going on).

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread, pining

A/N: This almost took me out, I think Trey's gonna be on my ban list for a while. But I hope you like it, anon.

Masterlist

Oh. Oh that's...rather painful to watch, actually. What was it the kids said nowadays? Yikes?

Riddle thinks it's rather vomit inducing, if nothing else. The way you and Trey tiptoe around each other, somehow acting like an old married couple and a pair of first graders just experiencing puppy love at the same time. An impressive contradiction, if he were to be honest. He didn't think it could exist at first, but you and the green haired boy just happened to be living proof. He takes another sip of tea and sends another confused glare in your direction.

"This is so good! You're so talented, Trey." The way you put your hand on Trey's arm (Riddle would say subtly but it was not subtle at all) was so horribly flirtatious it almost makes Riddle spit out his tea. There was no rule on PDA in the Queen's rulebook, however, so he endures and stabs a strawberry with his fork instead of stabbing it through either of you. Trey blushes, hearts almost visibly forming in his eyes as he leans towards you with the plate of bite-sized tarts. "No, it was because you helped me make them that they taste so good."

Riddle's brows furrow in mild disgust.

"You should eat some too!" He watches numbly when you pick up a tart and hand feed it to his second in command. More blushing, more stuttering, but eventually, Trey manages to eat the thing with a giddy smile.

(May he collar Trey? Or you? Genuine question.)

The tea party wraps up and Trey is finally back to full working condition because of your absence (thank you for leaving). Riddle supervises the cleanup with Trey next to him, clipboard in hand. "So," Riddle sighs, "when will you be confessing to Y/N? I assume it must be soon, given your lack of propriety in a public space."

"Confessing? I don't see them that way."

He looks at Trey, both hands on his scepter because one half of him wants to use it to hit the man over the head and the other half wants to use it to hit the man in the stomach. Trey's face is a beautiful shade of 'lying lying liar who lies' pink, and he's avoiding Riddle's gaze with a sheepish grin. "Is that so?" Riddle asks dryly.

"There's...a lot of other people out there."

"What about it?"

"There's a lot of other people who can treat them better, love them better, than I can."

Riddle settles for whacking the scepter onto Trey's shoulder before leaving with a dignified huff. "Spineless, completely unworthy of the Queen of Hearts." He hears Trey laughing behind him.

Gross. Super gross.

"Yo, Trey, are you like, actually blushing and swooning and kicking your feet?" Cater laughs, watching Trey fumble to hide his phone. He'd already seen the image his friend had been staring at before, though, so it's not too hard to imagine why the other was acting like a schoolgirl (it's still stupid to watch).

"I am not."

Right. Cater doesn't have the mental capability to debate on whether or not Trey was giggling. Not when the words on his textbook are building a rollercoaster track in front of his eyes and setting up to ride it. "Whatevs. How did you get the answer for question 3?"

He looks up to see Trey sneaking a peek at his phone again.

"OMG, usually I'm the phone addict but this is like, insane." Cater dives over the table and steals the other man's phone, "You're staring at a text draft asking Y/N to hang out tomorrow? No, I don't think so, and send. There." He hands it back to Trey.

"What did you do that for?"

"So I can finally get my study buddy back, duh. It's like, literally painful to see you spending literal minutes just thinking on whether or not to invite Y/N to hang out. That's lame."

Trey sighs in exasperation. "So you did it for me."

"Obvi! Because I'm like, such a good friend."

Ace might throw up on the grass, or he might mistake his senpai's hair for it and throw up all over him. Fifty fifty, really. He watches you run across the field with Grim, passing a Spelldrive disc between the two of you as your laughter rang through the air. He glances at Trey to find him wistfully sighing like some medieval maiden.

When the disc comes hurtling in his direction because of a certain kitty cat, he finds himself embracing peace, and perhaps with his departure from this world, heaven would embrace him—

“Oh no! Trey senpai, are you okay?”

Ace opens his eyes again. He was pretty sure the disc was headed straight for his handsome face so…why is his toothbrush loving upperclassman now lying on a heap on the ground right in front of him?

Did he seriously dive in front of Ace to get injured? On purpose?

You run over worriedly and kneel over next to Trey, Ace watching on expressionlessly. A large red bump is swelling on his senior’s forehead, which you gently check with your hand. “I’m so sorry, I’ll help you get to the infirmary, okay?”

Ace swears he can see the slightest hint of a smirk on Trey’s face.

“Don’t you have history next period? I’ll help him,” Ace enjoys the panicked expression on the ‘patient’, but then he also sees your features morph into something like ‘don’t you dare take this away from me’, so he backs off. You…match each other’s freaks, apparently, so he takes a step back and grabs Grim from the field.

“Nya, why are you taking me from my hench human?!”

“Shh, your parents are flirting so I’ll take up babysitting duty,” Ace rolls his eyes, “They’re both pathetic.”

“Order. The first meeting shall now commence.”

Riddle strikes a wooden gavel (where did he get that?) and Deuce sits still because his confusion has yet to fade and really, he still has absolutely no idea why he, Ace, Riddle and Cater are sitting around a table with tea and snacks laid out in front of them. This couldn’t be a dorm meeting considering the rest of the dorm members, and even the vice house warden, are absent. “Uh, dorm leader,” Deuce speaks up nervously, “did Ace do something wrong again?”

“What? Why does it have to be me?!”

“It’s always you.”

“Lmao, y’all gotta calm down,” Cater laughs, “the topic of the day isn’t you or Ace. It’s Trey!”

Deuce blinks. “Is something wrong with Trey senpai?”

“He’s gross.”

“He’s cringe.”

“He’s a coward.”

The answers don’t actually answer his question, but he doesn’t think it’s a good idea to say anything else. Riddle looks tired, Ace looks genuinely disgusted, and Cater is staring into the void with what he can only describe as an old man sigh. He’s not the smartest person to have ever existed, but he knows enough that he probably shouldn’t be saying anything else at the moment. His housewarden strikes the gavel again. “Attention, we have gathered here today in an attempt to brainstorm ideas. Does anyone know how we should get Trey and Y/N to finally get together?”

“Lock them in a closet 7 minutes in heaven style~”

“Slip truth serum into their drinks.”

“Y/N and Trey senpai like each other?”

The other three give Deuce an exasperated look.

…He probably should’ve kept his mouth shut.

Trey looks at his reflection in the mirror. Pristine, crisp—he needs to look perfect, if only for you. He makes his way to the entrance of the rose maze with a large bouquet of red roses in hand. It’s a bad idea. Really, you might not even show up. His friends and dormmates have good intentions, sure, but whoever said good intentions meant good results? Now he’d been wrangled in a pure white tuxedo and in the gazebo that laid in the middle of the maze is a spread of pastries and the most expensive tea they had in the kitchen. And he’s ready to finally, finally confess, instead of hiding away and going back to his imaginations. In his fantasies, you’d smile and hold his hand and laugh with him, and he…

If you don’t allow him to even be your friend anymore after this, would his fantasies suffice?

No.

But, if the impossible happens, and you like him too, then maybe his fantasies would come to life. Maybe one day, he’ll be waking up in your arms instead of waking up from dreaming about you. But as Riddle said, the possibility ceases to exist if he doesn’t take the steps to make it happen.

You arrive.

And like every other time he’d seen you and breathed you in, he’s stunned.

You’re just so beautiful, in a way that his mind struggles to describe.

(He loves you, he loves you, he loves you until it hurts, he loves you until it’s deadly, he’ll love you until time stops, until that love consumes him from the inside out, Trey Clover will love you until he forgets what love is and remembers only you and how you make his heart beat.)

You accept his flowers.

You accept his heart as he lays it bare in front of you.

“You’re, stop—stop using me as an armrest!”

“Ehh, Riddle if you’re so loud they’ll hear nya~”

“You can peek perfectly fine without pushing me down!”

“I can, but that’s not fun!”

Chenya looks through the bakery window to catch a glimpse of the blushing couple. Trey, flustered and proud as he introduces you to his parents, and you happily chatting with them, nodding along as you accepted the pastries they were stacking up in your arms. “Let me go, I need to go back home.” Riddle seethes quietly.

“Mya, it’s not like you wanna go home, so why don’t we stay and watch Trey fumble? It’s funny.”

The redhead purses his lips, hesitates, and eventually peeks into the window next to Chenya. “If we get caught, it’s your fault and I’m just a victim.”

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 13

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Author Note: So... I wrote the story outline until the ending. I didn't expect the story to turn dark. Prepare yourself.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

“I had a miserable life when I lived here,” you said, your voice trembling with old resentment.

Bucky’s eyes softened as he listened. He took a step closer, his shoulders slumping. “You’re hurting. I get it.”

He touched his chest, his fingers pressing against the fabric as if trying to reach his heart. “But… it’s not only you.” His voice broke slightly, and he looked down, struggling to maintain composure. “Me too.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his movements agitated. “That’s why I’m doing this,” he continued, his voice low and earnest. “I’m trying to fix all the pain we both caused.” He looked into your eyes, his expression pleading. “I need to make things right.”

You watched him, torn between your anger and the vulnerability he displayed. His words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, both of you stood silently, understanding shared suffering.

Flashback Start

Growing up, Bucky never felt the warmth of a real family. His father, Alex, was distant, never saying a word to him, never laughing, never making silly jokes, or even getting angry. It was as if Bucky didn’t even exist in his father’s eyes.

Lydia was always the one to initiate conversations at home, but Alex only responded with monosyllables: ‘Yes,’ ‘No,’ and ‘Just go by yourself.’ He rarely stayed home, often spending his nights at the construction office.

The only time Alex seemed to notice Bucky was when he got hurt. Bucky vividly remembered the first time he felt his father’s care was when he fell from the playground. That moment stood out, making Bucky believe that, perhaps, his father still cared for him. But Lydia noticed it too.

From then on, Lydia started orchestrating accidents to make Bucky get hurt just to garner Alex's attention, trying to fabricate a close-knit family facade. For a while, Bucky didn’t find it strange because he finally received attention from both his parents. Then one day, he fell down the stairs, even though he was sure he had been careful.

While he was resting, Bucky overheard a heated argument between his parents. Alex’s voice echoed through the house, filled with anger and frustration. “You’re an insane woman, hurting your own kid?” he yelled.

Bucky’s nanny had witnessed the incident. She saw Lydia push Bucky down the stairs, and the look on Lydia’s face had been terrifying, like a devil’s. When Alex came home, the nanny told him everything. The truth about Lydia’s actions deepened Alex’s hatred towards his estranged wife.

When Bucky got sick, his father never visited him. Weak and confused, Bucky asked Lydia, “Mom, why doesn’t my father like me?”

Lydia hugged him tightly. “Sweetie, your father loves us, but he’s like this because of that woman.”

“That woman?” Bucky asked, not understanding what his mother meant.

He started to learn the truth when he overheard his father one day. “Why is she suddenly sick? Send her to the city,” Alex said, his voice stressed and weary. He threw himself into a chair, mentioning another woman’s name—someone who wasn’t Lydia.

Bucky didn’t fully grasp the situation, but he noticed his father coming home even later than before. One day, he heard his father scream when that woman died. Alex drowned his sorrows in alcohol, becoming a shadow of himself.

Young Bucky, filled with confusion and pain, found it easy to blame someone else for his father’s misery. His resentment grew until one day, tragedy struck again. Alex died in a car accident.

At the funeral, guests offered their condolences to Lydia, but no one paid much attention to Bucky. Even if they did, he didn’t understand the meaning of death. So, he waited outside and saw a thin, ghostly man from a Christmas movie—it was Tom. With him was a little girl peeking from a window near the funeral home.

Lydia suddenly appeared beside Bucky. “You see that man and the girl?”

Bucky nodded.

“That’s the husband and daughter of the woman who made your father hate us,” Lydia said, her voice dripping with bitterness.

Bucky clenched his fists, his young heart filling with hatred. From that day, he despised you. He noticed you weren’t close with Tom but didn’t seek his attention like Bucky did with Alex.

Bucky started bullying you, finding a twisted sense of superiority. His friends joined in, making it worse. For a kid, it felt powerful to look down on someone.

When you left with Ransom, Bucky felt an unexpected emptiness. He thought you would realize Ransom was a jerk and come back, but you didn’t. He began to wonder why he missed you.

Was it because he lost his scapegoat, or was it guilt? The guilt of making you leave town gnawed at him.

One day, he learned that Lydia had lied. All her stories were lies. Your mother had never done anything to Alex. It was just that his father still loved her. The weight of guilt and the sins he committed against you ate him alive. He couldn’t sleep or eat and eventually sought therapy.

Bucky’s voice trembled with a mix of anger and hurt as he confronted his mother. “Why did you do that? Why did you lie about everything?”

Lydia’s face twisted with a blend of defiance and bitterness. “Because I’m the victim in this loveless marriage. You have no right to be mad at me.”

Bucky’s frustration erupted. “I’m allowed to be angry! You made me believe your lies, and because of that, I made someone’s life miserable.”

Lydia’s slap was sudden and sharp, stinging Bucky’s cheek. He recoiled, his face burning with pain both physical and emotional. His eyes widened in shock, his expression a mix of disbelief and deep hurt.

“I gave everything to your father!” Lydia’s voice was a mix of anger and desperation. “My family business, my money. But that man only had eyes and a heart for that woman. To him, I was less than a bug.”

Bucky’s fists clenched at his sides, his shoulders shaking with the effort to control his rage. “So you still don’t feel guilty for lying to me?”

Lydia’s eyes were wild, her face streaked with tears. “Why? Why should I feel guilty?” she screamed, her voice cracking under the weight of her own grief. “I sacrificed everything for that ungrateful man!”

“Because I’m your son!” Bucky shouted back, his voice breaking. “You gave birth to me! You should feel ashamed for using me as a pawn in your twisted games.”

Lydia’s face contorted with a mix of pain and anger. She grabbed at her own hair, her body trembling as she cried. “Are you ashamed to have me as your mother? You have everything—status, money! That’s why you were the popular kid at school. Everyone envied you!”

Bucky’s eyes flashed with a mix of fury and sadness. “You think that’s a justification? You think all your lies and manipulations are okay because I had status and money? You don’t understand the damage you’ve caused!”

Lydia’s sobs grew louder, her body slumped as if the weight of her own actions was finally crashing down on her. She looked at Bucky with a broken expression, her tears mingling with the anger still in her eyes.

Bucky turned away, his own tears threatening to spill. The air between them was thick with unresolved pain and regret. He felt the crushing weight of their fractured relationship, knowing that no amount of words could undo the damage that had been done.

He had made your life hell for something you didn’t do. The realization tormented him.

After graduating and returning to town, Bucky decided to make a difference. The first thing he wanted to do was apologize to you. But when he visited Tom, you never came home. He saw how Tom lived and the state of the funeral home and decided to help. He also planned to build a new hospital in town because the lack of medical facilities had contributed to your mother’s misdiagnosis.

Then, out of nowhere, you came back.

Flashback End

“High price to pay for what you did,” you said, your voice cold and steady.

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly, pain flickering across his face. “I know. I deserve every bit of it.”

You paused, taking a deep breath. “But one thing I appreciate is that you realize your own fault.” Your tone softened slightly, but your eyes remained guarded.

Bucky’s face brightened at your words, hope lighting up his expression. “Well… I even sent my mom to the police for you,” he said, a touch of pride in his voice.

You nodded slowly. “That’s the most extreme act to prove yourself.”

Just then, Tom appeared at the doorway. His eyes flickered with concern as he took in Bucky’s disheveled appearance. “Bucky? I heard about Lydia. Is it true?”

Bucky nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Yeah, it’s true. She’s in police custody now."

Tom sighed deeply, glancing between you and Bucky. “Why don’t you come inside, Bucky? Let’s talk about this. There’s a lot we need to discuss.”

Bucky looked at you, silently seeking your approval. You gave a small nod, and he followed Tom into the house.

🛒🛒🛒🛒

The next day, you went to the grocery store to buy some essentials. As you were browsing the aisles, you spotted Steve looking at a shelf of canned goods.

“Hey, Steve,” you greeted, your voice casual.

He turned, a smile spreading across his face. “Hey! I’m going to the city next week to meet the gallery owner.”

“That’s great,” you replied, genuinely happy for him.

Steve’s smile widened. “I won’t forget your help.”

You shrugged your shoulders, a hint of a smile on your lips. “I still don’t care.”

Steve chuckled, noticing the smile. He nudged your shoulder playfully. “Sure you don’t.”

“Hey guys. Fancy meeting you here.”

Both of you turned around to see Bucky approaching, his expression a mix of surprise and hesitation.

“Oh, hi,” Steve greeted him, his tone polite but lacking warmth. The air between them was thick with an unspoken tension, the remnants of a once-close friendship now strained.

Bucky’s eyes darted between the two of you. “What are you guys up to?”

Steve cleared his throat. “I was just thanking her. Because of her, I got an offer to work in an art gallery.”

Bucky’s face fell slightly. “You’re gonna leave?” His voice grew quiet. “Wow. Congrats, buddy.”

The awkwardness between them was palpable. You could feel the tension building, and it was too much to bear. You decided to continue shopping, hoping to escape the uncomfortable atmosphere. “I’m going to keep shopping. See you around, Steve.”

Steve nodded, a small, grateful smile on his face.

Bucky saw this as his cue. “Let me help you. Besides, I’m going to help Tom later.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t object. “Fine.” Turning to Steve, you said, “See you.”

Steve nodded again, giving you a supportive smile.

Bucky quickly followed you, calling over his shoulder, “Let’s meet up later, buddy.” He didn’t wait for Steve’s answer, his focus solely on catching up with you.

Steve watched the two of you walk away, a somber expression on his face. “It’s better if we don’t,” he murmured to himself, the weight of past conflicts evident in his tone.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

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[danikamariewrites]

i love your fics so much, i have all ur notifications on and you’re literally the only reason i still have this app😭😭💜 i was wondering if i could please request one where azriel x reader where reader has a MASSIVE crush on azriel. they’re mated and married and all but she is so blushy around him. like she literally giggles and blushes and melts whenever she’s around him. imagine she’s laying on her stomach and has her legs up, kicking them just thinking about azriel sith half lidded heart eyes, and feyre next to her teases her for it, and reader is like i don’t even care, i’m so inlove with this man, i’m gonna carry his children and UGHH LOVEEEEEE🥹

So In Love hc

Azriel x reader

A/n: first of all thank you I’m happy you’re still here and I hope you like this anon. Second, I too would just stare at azriel with heart eyes

Warnings: very fluffy like so super fluffy

Even though you and Azriel have been mated and married for decades he never fails to make you swoon or blush

With every kiss and small touch you’re putty in his hands

You love watching training. When he takes off his shirt and flexes his muscles you start drooling

Az’s tattoos are also mesmerizing

Sometimes when you’re in bed you straddle him and trace his tattoos and leave lil kisses on his chest

Whenever Az talks about you within ear shot you get all shy and blush

He’s also insanely in love with you

If you’re alone in a room Az loves to see how giggly you can get

One time you were making yourself a snack in the kitchen and Az sauntered up behind you, gently holding your hips, swaying you

“Hi lovey, what are you up to?” He says, you could hear the smirk on his lips. “Hi Az,” your cheeks heat and you lean back into his chest, tilting your head to look at him

“You’re so cute love. How did I get so lucky with you as my mate,” his smile widens as you turn and hide your face in his chest. Az places a kiss on your head and holds your chin between his fingers making you look back at him

He leans his forehead against yours and keeps whispering sweet nothings until your cheeks hurt from smiling and giggling

Sometimes everyone gets sick of how in love you two are, other times they think it’s adorable

During the latest family game night you just observed from the couch with Feyre

Card games get very heated in this house

But you’re just looking at Az (as always) with heart eyes and the most obvious smile

Feyre nudges you, “You’re drilling again y/n.” She said with a light laugh

“I can’t help it he’s just so pretty.” Feyre hummed into her wine glass. “You did get the prettiest one, there’s no denying it.” You giggle at the compliment for Az

You let out a sigh, leaning back into the couch. “I know you’re probably sick of me saying this, but Az is just so perfect. He’s so attentive, and charming, and caring. I love him so much.” Feyre laughs at the far away look plastered on your face as you only focus on Azriel

“I can’t wait to have his babes, I hope they all look like him so we can have perfect children.” You hadn’t realized how quite everyone had gotten

Cassian looked like he was trying not to laugh while Nesta and Rhys looked at you with wide eyes. Amren wasn’t paying attention and Elain just had an awww expression on her face

Azriel had gone red in the face as he was trying to get everyone back to playing cards

Cassian broke and started laughing and Nesta hit him, “I hope when we have kids they look and act like me.” Cassian looked offended, “So I get nothing!?” Nesta gave him a death glare and the boys started laughing at him

Once they went back to cards Azriel sent love and a message down the bond, “I love you too angel. And I hope they look like you, because you’re so beautiful.”

[neuvistar]

HONKAI STAR RAIL MEN AS FATHERS! pt two.

— featuring ┊luocha, welt, sampo koski x fem!reader (all separate)

— warnings / content warnings ┊hsr men as fathers pt 2 !! mostly fluff, not proofread, mentions of pregnancy i think?? i forgot, them being absolute sweethearts, DILFS DILFS DILFS! overall just fluff | pt one here. (jing yuan, blade, dan heng, gepard) pt three. (aventurine, dr ratio, argenti, sunday, boothill, gallagher)

— a/n ┊PART TWO OF THE HSR PAPAS!!! luocha n jing yuan prettiest dilfs i’ve ever seen foreal no one can convince me otherwise!

best papa #1 luocha

— LUOCHA would be a loving doting father, i feel like he’d have two boys and one girl (jesus christ) and his two boys would look exactly like him, long blonde hair n same features aaahh ALSO HIS LITTLE PRINCESS WOULD HAVE HER DADDY’S EYES IM CALLIN IT RN! in conclusion his kids would look majestic just like their papa ! when he had his first child he probably shed a tear or two, holding him carefully in his arms :(( he’s a natural dad like jing yuan, it’s like he immediately knew what to do and was a natural at everything! by the time his third child was born he got the hang of taking care of his kids <33

— LUOCHA who’s children got injuries sm as kids n he was always there to aid them <3 during games he would participate in, there would probably be a time where one of them got hurt ATLEAST once, like his son falling over one time n luocha hastily walking over to him and picking him up from the ground + he’s the type to kiss their booboos once he helped disinfect it, putting a bandaid wherever they got injured and kiss it better :(( his children r so lucky to have a father who has good medical skills foreals crying emoji + it’s not only for this, he’s always willing to nurse them back to health!

“does that feel better?”

“m—mhm..” his son nodded, wrapping his small arms around him, sobbing quietly against his neck

“there there, no need to cry my angel. daddy already kissed your boo-boo, you’ll be alright.”

— LUOCHA who would take such good care of his children whenever they were sick, he was a natural at this due to his awesome amazing medical skills! he knew exactly what to do and what to give them, he’s such a caring father it’s insane it’s fun cuz y’all don’t even have 2 go to the doctor to check what’s wrong with your kids, luocha would know what’s going on! a fever? a cold? he knows! and he’s always nursing them back to health like i said !

— LUOCHA who would teach his children about medicine, i feel like all three of his children would have different dreams they wanted to pursue but i feel like his daughter would be interested in medicine just like he is, he found it adorable how she would play with her dolls and pretend to be their doctor, it’s so adorable to see his kids pursuing different dreams and him supporting every single one of them, he’s so chill hearts emoji

— LUOCHA would try his best to be there for his kids. because he’s a merchant, he tries his best not to be absent and wants to be there in their lives :(( he wants to see his kids grow up, y’know??? he loves them sm, and he loves YOUUU <3 i bet he takes his kids out from time to time so he could make new memories with them they could carry with them for the rest of their lives, he knows life is short, yes. that’s why he’s trying to live his life to the fullest with his family, he knows one day he won’t always be there to scoop them back up from the ground to aid their injuries :((

best papa #2 welt

— WELT would be a great father, he’s a lil strict on some ends but he’s not SEVERELY strict, i think he’ll have two sons (maybe a daughter too who knows) he made a promise to himself he’ll protect his two kids until the end of time :(( his sons would have their daddy’s eyes, and some features of him too! but they mostly look like their mommy sososweet

“look, they have daddy’s eyes.”

“do they?”

“mhmmm.. look at him, he looks just like you”

(his heart is slowly starting to melt as u speak)

— WELT who would give one of the best hugs, i feel like he’s that type of dad who’s serious like half of the time but whenever he’s with his family or spending time with his sons, he’s always willing 2 show a smile or two, but back onto it! he gives the best hugs, his favourite thing to do is hug his sons and kiss the temple of their foreheads before he goes out, he may be serious and a lil strict.. but he loves his sons just as much as he loves anything else, behind that strictness he rlly does love a good hug from his sons

— WELT who would bring his wife and kids along to the astral express, it’s so cute bc imagine seeing two pudgy wudgy little babies crawling around, i bet himeko would unofficially be their godmother too LMFAO <33 when they grow into toddlers, his sons would love bothering him at work, climbing on his leg and climbing on his desk, he doesn’t mind it it’s acc so surprising how he manages to keep a straight face! and when he wants to calm them down, he just sets both of them on his lap

“settle down. let papa finish this, okay?” he would pick them up, his sons giggling as they help him work along the way (😭😭😭)

— WELT who works at the astral express a lot so he doesn’t see his kids much :(( but he always comes home to you and them with gifts and souvenirs from other worlds! his kids would always run to him and hug his leg, welt scooping them up with a smile on his face ;; AAAA SO SO SO CUTE!

“papa! papa papaaaa!”

“did you miss me?” the two boys ran to their dad, hugging his leg as welt picked them up from the floor squeezing them into a hug “i got a few things for you both.”

“what is it what is it?!”

“i want to see, papa!”

“alright alright, settle down now. it’s a surprise, you’ll have to behave and guess first.”

— WELT who would give his sons advice on how to be better people, his advice is always so firm and straightforward.. he wants them to be gentlemen, he wants them to be the best they can be! he would teach them exactly how 2 be gentlemen, he would raise his sons to be one of the most respectful and kindest ppl ever <33 when they mature and shape into those kind of ppl one day, sometimes he looks back to when he was still able to carry them around like it was nothing :(( he knows his children r growing up and deep down inside he doesn’t want them to, he truly does love and cherish his sons, he’s so glad he was able to shape his sons into good ppl just like he wanted <33

best papa #3 sampo

— SAMPO is one of the most fun and uplifting dads out of everyone, i’m calling it rn he’s a girl dad n has a daughter, i’m calling that rn! he’s such a fun dad to have, like having him as a dad means everyday is never boring, he always makes everything fun! (u cant tell me that he doesn’t love making dad jokes during dinner in the dinner table, he absolutely loves making them it’s so funny)

— SAMPO who would let his daughter do anything with him, oh she wants to play dress up? he’s putting on a dress that can barely fit him rn! she wants to have tea with her plushies? he’s already setting up the tables, she wants to put makeup on his face and nail polish on his nails? he’ll let her! he’s such a fun girl dad, always willing 2 do what his daughter wants to do :((

“stay still, daddy! i’ll mess up if you keep moving around!” his daughter would pout, holding her mommy’s makeup in her tiny little hands

“sorry princess, the brush is ticklish. gotta’ be more gentle with me, yeah? you’re grabbin’ and brushin’ at my face too roughly” he chuckled, patting her back

“sorry daddy, i just want to make you look pretty! now, still please!” she’s so sassy just like he is, but he loves her sm!

— SAMPO would be such a dumbass. first things first, he has this issue with losing his daughter from time to time at amusement parks or places in general, always finding her crying alone and having to scoop her up in his arms apologizing and showering her with kissies + second he can’t even help her with her homework from school because he “doesn’t remember doing this” he would be complaining more than her! skull emoji it would always be HER teaching him instead of HIM teaching her LMFAOO

“why’re there s’many numbers here, angel?! this is what you learn everyday?”

“do you seriously not know how to do this?” you raised a brow.

“ you can’t blame me! i ain’t ever got good grades, can’t even remember how to calculate nine times ten!”

“you’re lying.”

“.. yeah i am. but there’s so much numbers, babe! look! this is what our princess has to deal with!”

— SAMPO who would show off his daughter to everyone, bragging about her accomplishments and bragging about how lucky he is to be her father, he’s so stupid it’s hilarious he absolutely loves his little princess sm !! he never shuts up abt how much he loves her and how proud he is w how far she’s come in life, he’s just thankful to have a family that’s all :(( he’s such a sweetheart he’s always so proud and supportive hashtag girl dad

— SAMPO who probably has social media accounts dedicated to his whole family, his wife and his little angel <33 he would absolutely love posting pictures of his family all together + his family in general, his phone would be filled with videos of his daughter from loooong ago, showing her the video and teasing her about it! he almost never deletes pictures of his daughter and you from his phone, he cherishes his family sm n it absolutely shows, always vlogging from time to time n documenting his life w you and his princess <33 HES SO ADORABLE IT HURTS MY HEART ALMOST