#but at the same time im worried of having nightmares

[missgenoard]

My boyfriend of almost 3 years broke up with me tonight and I'm a fucking mess

There was hostility from my brother towards him and he wanted to remove himself from the equation to protect me because he DOES love me but STILL.

I'm in fucking pieces and I don't know how I'm going to go to work tomorrow

[transgaysex]

speaking of horrors theres something happening and i dont know what it is but its pissing me off

[itsalwaysdark]

ome day i will be so normal

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

me when i once again get too much into working on bg characters instead of the main ones (<- i once read that bg characters should be as deep as the main even if they only appear a couple times and it haunts my mind still)

[seresinhangmanjake]

Do You Love?

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x wife!reader

Summary: Feyd is soft for his wife and only wants to know if she loves him. His wife just wants him to come home.

Notes/Warnings: fluff and a little angst and very light smut (still 18+), softy-soft Feyd, probably could do with a wedding prequel if people were interested, im sure there are typos. I think that's it.

Words: 1400

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

He hates being away from you. Can't bear it. It takes less than two days for withdrawal from your lack of presence to settle in, and when it hits, it hits hard. The luminescence of your smile that threatens the darkness within him on his worst days; the delicate suppleness of your skin that introduced him to the softness and warmth of a human body; the specific quality and tone of your voice when you whisper and whimper and moan in his ear—he needs it. He needs you. He craves you until the second you’re in his arms again. He just wishes he could understand if you feel the same. He wishes he could know if you love him as much as he does you.

When you came into his life, you were a pawn for peace. A gift from one Great House to another. A reluctant bride who couldn’t choke back her tears on her wedding day. He’ll never forget the saltiness that lingered on his lips after the kiss that bound you to him forever. He can still feel the pang in his heart from seeing you finch when he guided the strap of your nightgown off your shoulder. 

It took ages for you to shed your fear; to allow him to hold you and kiss you and be inside of you, but those many months of ‘two steps forward, one step back’ have left him in a paralyzing state of identity crisis and uncertainty. You’ve turned him into a man who begs for scraps of reassurance that you care for him rather than a man who shows no mercy for love; a man so preoccupied with thoughts of his wife’s affection that not even his enemies are granted his full attention as he watches the light drain from their eyes. 

From the moment he leaves, he anticipates his return so you can quell his agitation, at least to some degree. The same words echo in his head each time he steps off a Harkonnen ship to search for you—hug me, hold me, kiss me, let my body inside of yours, tell me you love me—and in recent months you haven’t failed to do those things, with the exception of the last request. The day you tell him you love him will be the day he stops fearing you'll eventually grow bored with him. On that day, he’ll be happy, at peace. He’ll be unafraid of what his future with you will bring.

—

Reader POV

He often goes to Arrakis for a week or two, that’s not new. He must monitor things and fight Fremen when necessary. However, this time was different. There was something foreign in his eyes after he kissed your palm and boarded his ship to depart. Sadness? Pain? Worry? All three? You didn’t know, but it terrified you from how little he tried to disguise it. With each departure, it’s seemed his mood has worsened and you can't decipher its cause.

Now, ten days later, your fingernails are worn to nubs and dark circles have found home under your eyes from nightmares interrupting your sleep. They’re different every night but they always end with Feyd not coming home to you, and you don’t know how to cope. You tell yourself you’re crazy, that there’s no possibility of him being taken down with a Fremen knife or gobbled up by a sandworm or blown to bits from his ship getting shot out of the sky. He’s too smart, too quick, too trained for such things to claim his life. At the same time, however, the last person whose death you dreamt of was your mother’s, and while it’s rare your dreams are prophetic, that one came to fruition not five days later. Who is to say your dreams of your husband are not the same?

But you can’t lose Feyd, not when it feels like you just got him. When you married, your dread of navigating a new husband and life on Giedi Prime—both of which have a reputation for being cold and desolate and harsh—crippled your ability to see him for who he is. It’s only been the last few months that you’ve let yourself love and understand him, and you can’t imagine a reality in which you wake one morning knowing you will never have him again. You wouldn’t survive it. 

But you won't have to, because he's fine, perfectly safe—that's what you tell yourself. He told you he wouldn’t be away long and he wouldn’t say that unless he believed it, right?

Then again, believing he would be home soon doesn’t mean fate agrees. What if he's already gone? Wait, no. No, he wouldn't do that to you. He'll be home because he always makes it home. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave you. You nod to yourself, swallowing hard. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave.

--

Your body curls into the first touch of warmth you’ve had in a week and a half as a heavy weight rests in the dip of your waist and tugs you against a solid form. Plush lips ghost your temple. A heartbeat thrums in your ear and you feel the rise and fall of a chest. 

Oh, you like this dream. He’s so real in this dream. It’s the first dream where death is not at his heels.

“You don’t know how I miss you,” he mutters into your ear. Stands of your loose hair brush back from your face. “How unbearable it is.”

His voice is so clear, so beautiful and vivid that it’s almost like he’s really with you. Humming contently, you huddle further into him. “Then stop leaving me,” you mumble.

Breath catches in his chest, no longer moving at a steady rhythm. “You're awake?”

Your brows knit—that's not a very ‘dream-like’ question; it threatens your lovely illusion—and then your eyes snap open. 

“Feyd?” His nose is an inch from yours. Your hand raises to cup his cheek, just to see if he is real, and you gasp at how warm his skin is under your palm. “You're here,” you cry, quickly pushing him onto his back and crawling on top of him. 

You press your lips to his, hard. A whimper is pulled from your throat when he parts his mouth so you can get a taste of his tongue. Yes, he’s definitely real. 

Hands trail down your back to your ass, squeezing two handfuls of flesh and pushing your pelvis down onto his. He’s already hard and thick and pressing into you, the matching thin material of your nightgown and his sleep pants doing a pathetic job of maintaining any sort of barrier. 

Feyd slowly drags the ink-toned silk up the curves and dimples of your body until it pools at your waist. Fingers graze your skin as they move lower to slide through your slick bare folds, and at his touch, your brain goes absolutely fuzzy. You’re unashamedly desperate, refusing to take any longer to get what you need, but when you finally free him from his pants and he thrusts up into you, you both find yourselves stopping. The kiss breaks and you simply breathe in each other’s breaths as he stays nestled deep inside you. 

Your forehead falls to his. A fresh tear that you hadn’t noticed in your eye lands on his cheek. “You're ok,” you gently whimper, reassuring yourself of his safety. His nose nudges yours.

“When am I not?” he whispers as he catches the next tear with his thumb before it drops from your lower lashes. 

“In my nightmares.”

His brow pinches in curiosity, cock twitching within your walls. “You dream about me?” 

You lightly nod. “I thought this was a dream.”

“Why?”

“Because I had a sickening feeling you weren’t going to make it back this time. I know it was a routine trip, but I just couldn’t shake it,” you say. “And that would’ve killed me, Feyd. I love you.”

Feyd sucks in a short stream of air as his hips slightly buck up against yours. “You love me?” he repeats.

“Yes,” you exhale, riding the little high of pleasure that came from the sharp involuntary shift of his hips. “I was so scared to be right.”

Feyd's arms tighten around you and he tilts his chin up to connect your lips. Kisses travel along the line of your jaw and down the length of your neck. His tongue dips into the hollow of your throat. 

“I love you,” he tells you.

Your stuffy chuckle settles into a grin. “I know you do.”

---

tag: @avidreader73

[literaila]

I seriously love the relationship between Megumi and reader. He is in fact, a mama's boy lol

But Dadgojo and Megumi moments are cute as hell too

So herw you go a small oneshot: Little Megs would always go to reader's or Tsumiki's bedroom when he has nightmares. He already trusts you enough to see him vulnerable and goes to seek for your protection, and of course you never complain and comfort him.

But this time is different. He had a nightmare and you were on a mission and Tsumiki is staying at a friend's house.

There is only one person left in the house: Gojo.

So, with the greatest shame and irritation in the world at having to depend on his annoying and childish dad, he goes to Gojo's room because at moments like these he can't stand being alone. So he eats his shame and goes to seek for him.

You can imagine reader's surprise when she comes back home in the morning and finds Satoru and your son cuddling together on the bed, Megumi's hold on Gojo's shirt tight as both sleep peacefully.

You swear you are not like Satoru, but you can't help it but to pick up the phone and take thousands of pictures of this rare moment, knowing it wont happen again (because Megumi won't do it twice after Satoru didn't stop mocking him about it.)

honestly you might as well just write the series for me. like do you wanna look in my inbox? you can write all of the one shots currently rotting away (i’m not asking im pleading)

this is so correct though.

megumi’s just not used to not having you home. when this arrangement first began you took some time off, let satoru handle everything (as per usual) so you could take care of the kids. adapt.

when you resume your former busy schedule, both of the kids are slightly thrown off. and satoru too—because he misses you. he’s known the caress of your absence and isn’t fond of the feeling.

and now it’s megumi’s turn.

but the boy doesn’t start having serious nightmares till around seven or eight (despite the…lack of an upbringing, the rotting apartment and cuddling with tsumiki in bed so neither of them froze in their sleep).

when it happens the first time, he sits there, waiting for some answer to come. he’s a quiet, stoic kid—and he doesn’t get scared. he’s not like his soft, kind sister. he doesn’t even flinch when others would jump.

he lays there until he falls asleep again. and he won’t mention it. megumi doesn’t need to worry you or satoru (mostly you) with this.

then it happens a second time.

this time he’s woken up on the verge of tears—already passed that breaking point—and he can’t stay in bed. he can’t lay there and recall images of monsters no child should understand.

so he gets out of bed—but just for a glass of water. he’s still not scared.

though it just so happens that you’re already in the kitchen when he gets there, and it just so happens that you know things about him—just because you know—so there’s nothing he can do to hide any of it.

still, you’ll only tilt your head at him, giving him a half-sleepy smile. “hey, megs. you okay?”

“i’m thirsty.”

so you get him his glass of water and you watch while he takes tentative sips.

again, somehow you just know. the same way that megumi knows that you know.

“are you having a hard time sleeping?” you ask him, after a minute of silence.

megumi shakes his head on instinct.

you’re still smiling. “bad dreams?”

and he could lie—he’s so very used to lying about things like this. megumi doesn’t want people to see him as this little boy who needs their help. he wants an equal playing field, and he doesn’t want to be scared.

but he is.

and when it comes to you, and only you, megumi is a terrible liar.

so he nods, and your smile remains—sure as always.

“i get ‘em too,” you whisper to him. “even when i was a kid. especially then.”

“you do?”

“yup. all the time.”

“what…” megumi furrows his brows. “what do you do?”

“hmm…” you go and stand beside him at the counter, leaning your chin on a hand. “well, it depends on the dream. sometimes they’re… smaller. and i can usually sleep through those ones, but i always remember them in the morning.”

megumi nods; he has all sorts of dreams.

dreams of running around with tsumiki, of going on missions with gojo. he dreams of you in the kitchen, you telling him to keep going. and he dreams of the dark. of a house that could never be a home.

he dreams of being all alone, and when he wakes up, it feels so real that he can’t help it.

he begins to believe that it’s true.

“when i have bigger ones, though, that i can’t sleep though… well, usually i just wake satoru up.”

megumi frowns. “why?”

“he’s so irritating that i forget all about the dream.”

“oh. yeah.”

you laugh. “or i just ask him for a hug. he always says yes. or i wake him up and we steal a car and drive around for a bit,” you add, almost absentmindedly.

megumi blinks, about to interrupt, but you continue.

“sometimes i just lay in bed until i fall back asleep. or i get up and do something else—get some water,” you give him a pointed look, “so that it feels less real.”

“does it work?”

“most of the time,” you answer, so softly. and you’re right there next to him, still smiling. “wanna watch a movie or something? i’ll let you pick.”

megumi frowns. you don’t like to let them stay up late (despite satoru’s many attempts to go out for gas station ice cream at three in the morning). “really?”

“sure.”

and you sit with him on the couch, not cuddling, but close enough.

megumi listens to you laugh at the random movie he put on—something tsumiki likes—and it feels a little bit better. he feels a little less alone.

and later on, just when he’s falling back to sleep, almost slumping on you, you’ll whisper to him: “the thing about nightmares, megumi,” your hand is in his hair and your voice is almost a lullaby. “is that you can always wake up.”

so megumi gets in the habit of looking for you when he’s had a nightmare—the bad ones, like you mentioned. he doesn’t ask you for a hug, or ask you to sit with him, but you do anyway.

and somehow the two of you will end up on the couch, or in his bed, so close together that megumi can’t have another bad dream (because he’s suffocating).

but on this night—the one night where you’re not home—megumi isn’t sure what to do.

because he doesn’t want to be alone. he doesn’t want to feel trapped in his room, and there’s no way he’s falling back asleep now, and why did he forget that you weren’t going to be home tonight, and—

“psst,” a voice says, a little bit amused. “why are you awake, kid?”

almost immediately megumi straightens. his arms cross like it’s a habit. and when he looks to gojo, he’s already expecting the grin. “why are you?”

“i was calling y/n. or she was calling me. it’s hard to be away from me, you know,” gojo is sprawled out on the couch, taking megumi’s spot.

“it can’t be that hard.”

gojo shakes his head, pouting. “are you awake because the guilt from all of the cruel things you say is keeping you up?”

megumi rolls his eyes. says a curt: “no,” and then pauses.

if you’re not here then what…

“what else could it be?”

“nothing,” megumi answers, immediately defensive.

gojo purses his lips, considering megumi. “why do you look weird?”

“why do you?”

“is that the only insult you’ve got?”

and finally, the boy gives in. he steps over to the couch, sitting down next to gojo (ten feet away) with his arms still crossed. “it’s late.”

“that’s no excuse, young fushiguro.”

they both sit there for a moment, staring off.

then gojo speaks up: “you know y/n would kill you if she knew you were awake, right?”

“no. she would kill you.”

“that’s…” gojo huffs. “true.”

at this, megumi lets out a grunt—it could be a laugh, could be a cough.

he doesn’t want to tell gojo about the dreams, he decides. because he doesn’t want to be ridiculed, and he doesn’t want gojo to tell you and then—

he’s not even scared. you’re gone, tsumiki is sleeping, and gojo is… staring at him.

“are you going to answer my question?”

megumi merely grunts again.

“c’mon, don’t make this awkward.”

“can’t. you already have.”

gojo scoffs, leaning back again, crossing his arms in a poor mimic. “we’ve been letting nanami watch you too much,” he says, but continues. “fine. don’t tell me. i can call y/n back right now and you can talk to—“

“no,” megumi looks over to him, wide eyes.

“then speak, kid.”

he sighs, annoyed. at least you’re right about one thing. it takes a moment, but megumi relents because he has to. “i had a bad dream.”

gojo’s face goes slack. “oh.”

megumi feels like crawling into himself, for just a moment, and then: “do you want to talk about it?”

blue eyes meet blue, and megumi frowns. “what?”

“do you want to talk about it?” gojo repeats, but… weirdly, this time. awkwardly.

“um..” is all the boy says, feeling like he should move away. like to his room away. like he should probably find someone else to live with, a random stranger, even, because that would be easier.

“i don’t know, okay?” gojo blurts out, like it was killing him not to. “that’s just what y/n asks me when i have a nightmare.”

“you have nightmares?”

gojo is running his hands through his hair, looking like he’s about to go on a tangent. but when megumi asks his question, gojo pauses. he gives megumi a look. “doesn’t everyone?”

megumi scowls. “i don’t know.”

“huh. well, i have them. sometimes.”

“and you tell y/n?”

gojo snorts, shaking his head. “there’s no telling y/n anything. she just—“

“knows.”

gojo nods, giving megumi a small wink that makes the little boy want to throw up.

“so…” gojo taps his fingers on the couch. “do you want to talk about it?”

“why would i want to talk about it with you?”

“well you came out into the living room looking all… surly.”

“surly?” megumi repeats, with a face.

“down. upset. sad.”

“i’m not sad.”

“people who aren’t sad don’t need to deny that they’re sad.”

“y/n isn’t here,” megumi says, shaking his head. “i could hit you and be fine.”

gojo laughs, again, relaxing once more. because the man cannot be serious for any longer than three minutes. it’s biologically impossible. “i’d like to see you try,” he whispers, and it’s just enough.

megumi falls asleep on the couch that night. he spends another half hour arguing with gojo about whatever he says—forgetting about his dream, the reason for coming into the living room in the first place.

and when you get home, you open the door to the sight of two boys, both drooling.

megumi has his head pressed against satoru’s shoulder, hair smushed against his face. satoru is crossing his arms, face tilted towards the ceiling as he snores.

…it’s pretty obvious what happens next.

[stevie-petey]

episode nine: the good

Soon it’s just you and Steve. You work around one another, anticipating each other’s next move, never getting in the way. Soft music plays from the record player that sits in the den. Steve puts on one of his father’s old records, gentle rock and delicate jazz. You hum to yourself, he hums with you, and it’s a peaceful morning. Until Richard and May Harrington walk in. Neither of you notice them at first. Steve is too busy spinning you around, playfully dipping you as the music comes to a grand crescendo. You’re laughing breathlessly, but soon your laughter turns into a yelp when Steve sees his parents standing in the doorway and drops you.

Summary: the party battles the horrors of high school and leave you stranded, tw: applying for college is harder than fighting literal demons (you would know, youve done it), jonathan joins your nightmare blunt rotation, max worries you, and steve solidifies his position of Best Boyfriend in the World as you slowly fall apart (though is anyone really surprised ??).

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: cursing, allusions to previous character death

Words: 11.2k idk how or why i needed to say so much

Before you swing in: we're here !!! FINALLY at the end of season 3 <3333 im so so so excited to present to you the groundwork for what i have planned for season 4 ;) it will be ... a lot. the season is huge, its difficult and scary, and i did my best to try and capture its dread and ominous sense of doom in this chapter. please enjoy and bear with me as i prepare for season 4. unsure when i will be done planning her, but i PROMISE itll be worth it !!

-

“Are you sure Ms. Bote is nice?”

“Yes.”

“And that Mr. Cune won’t question the hat?”

“Yes, Dustin.”

“And you’re absolutely sure we have lunch together?”

“Yes.” You tighten the straps on your mary janes and give your brother an exasperated look. All morning he’s been freaking out about his first day of high school. You understand his fear, it’s scary starting at a new school, but you’ve answered all his questions a million times by now and Steve is supposed to be here any second. “We need to go, buddy.”

Dustin shoves a pancake into his mouth, wiping his face with the back of his hand in a disgusting manner. “Wait, but what about my backpack–”

“I have it, Dusty!” Your mother walks into the kitchen and hands it to him. She kisses his mess of curls and strokes your cheek. “Are my darlings ready for their first day of school?”

“No.” You and Dustin say at the same time, which your mother frowns at. 

Dustin adjusts his backpack and gives you an odd look. “Why are you nervous? It’s not like you’re being blindly thrown into a den of hormonal creatures out for blood. You’re old now, they’ll leave you alone!” 

“Trust me, the college admissions process is a worse monster than school bullies.” You grab your own backpack and start heading towards the front door. “I have to start planning what to write, I–I need more clubs, and projects, and–”

The anxiety overwhelms you. It always starts like this: talk about college, you fall down a hole of uncertainty and dread and fear. It’s been like this ever since Jonathan moved away. The minute the Byers moved, you threw yourself into preparing for college. Rationally, you know it’s your poor way of coping with all the sudden change in your life. You don’t need a psychological research journal to tell you that. In a futile attempt to control your future, you’ve become obsessed with college. 

New York University, specifically. 

Jonathan has always dreamed of attending, and when you met him, it became your dream, too. 

“Okay, dear. Settle down, now.” Your mother places a hand on your shoulder and laughs nervously. She has about five seconds before you collapse into a mess of college admissions rambling and despair. “Let’s go outside and find that wonderful Stevie!”

Your body is shoved out the front door alongside Dustin��s. Steve’s car is parked, he stands outside it, arms crossed and a grin on his face. Your body relaxes when you see him, the buzz of anxiety dims. He’s wearing his Family Video vest, the green makes his tanned skin glow.

“She’s doing it again.” Dustin tells him, tossing his backpack into the backseat.

Steve winces. He knows exactly what your brother is referring to. He’s been at the other end of far too many anxious phone calls at three in the morning. “College?”

“Yeah, she almost had a meltdown in the kitchen.”

“I can hear you both, you know.” Though you try to seem fine, keep up the annoyance, you stand next to Steve and rest your head on his shoulder anyways. He wraps an arm around you and kisses your forehead. 

Steve rubs your arm and makes a sympathetic noise. Your mother, seeing how he holds you, squeals. “Oh, stay just like that, hold on!”

“Mom, what–” But your mother ignores you and runs back inside the house. You look at Dustin, terrified. “She’s not…”

He shakes his head at you. He leans against the car next to you and crosses his arms, mimicking Steve’s earlier stance.  “She’s mom. Of course she is.”

“What are you guys talking about–” A flash of light momentarily blinds Steve, and he flinches. “Woah, alright.”

“Smile, kids!” Another camera flash, and your mother coos as you, Steve, and Dustin awkwardly shuffle into frame. It’s not that the three of you dislike being near the other, it’s the fact that it’s seven in the morning and neither you nor Dustin are ready for the day ahead. Steve smiles, though. “That’s it! Everyone say, ‘happy first day of school’!”

A mess of incoherent mumbling follows your mothers command, but she doesn’t let it bother her. She takes a million pictures, preens when she sees Steve smile even wider, and she has to hold back tears. Her babies are all grown up. Dustin is a freshman now, and you’re a senior.

“Alright, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve has to quickly blink, trying to regain his eyesight. He adores the woman, he knows he’s become her favorite, but he really needs to get you to school before his shift at Family Video starts. “I have no doubt you’ve already taken the best picture ever.”

“Aw, just one more–”

“Mom.” Dustin clears his throat, urging her to stop, and she sighs. 

Your mother kisses Dustin’s head, then yours, and wishes you a good first day before getting into her own car to drive to work. “Bye, kids!”

You all wave at her, and Steve opens the car door for you. Once you’re seated, he goes to the driver’s side and tells Dustin to get in the back. The engine starts, soft music plays from Steve’s radio, and soon the three of you are driving towards Hawkins high. 

“No Robin?” You ask Steve after a few minutes of silence. He’s grown rather close to the girl, working together all summer, so you had expected her to drive with you guys to school. When you and him officially got together, Robin made the two of you promise that you wouldn’t abandon her. It was an irrational fear, you love Robin dearly, but you made sure to spend time with her and Steve equally anyways. 

“She has band practice this morning,” Steve responds. “So it’s just me and the Hendersons today.”

Dustin shoves his head in between the two of you. His seatbelt strains against his chest, but he doesn’t care. He’s on a mission to get as much information as he possibly can. He refuses to go into high school blind and pathetic. “Steve, you were once popular.”

“Why the past tense? I mean, I’d consider myself still pretty well liked–”

“I need you to tell me what you did that led to your demise so I can avoid doing the same.”

You snort and Steve sighs. The kid really keeps him humble. He stops at a light, looks at Dustin through the rearview mirror, and shakes his head. “What makes you think it was anything I did?”

“Kid’s got a point,” you say from the passenger seat. Steve gives you an offended look and you raise your hands in surrender. “Hey, all I’m saying is that I also don’t really know what happened. You’ve got a track record of pissing off the wrong people. One minute you were King Steve, the next you were shunned.”

Steve groans. “You people have no faith in me.” He can feel you and Dustin staring at him, unbelieving. He hates when the two of you team up against him; it makes it harder for him to lie. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to tell you what happened. Not because he’s embarrassed, or ashamed, even. 

He knows it will only upset you. Reopen wounds. 

But you and Dustin keep staring at Steve and there’s still at least ten minutes left of the drive. Weighing his options, Steve figures it’s best if he just tells the truth. Like ripping off a bandaid, knowing the pain will be there regardless of how long you stall. “Okay, fine.” He scratches his nose, clears his throat. “It was, uh. Because of Billy.”

The temperature in the car drops. It’s suddenly ice cold. 

Dustin slowly leans back against his seat. Steve faces ahead, eyes on the road, but he watches you from his periphery. No one has mentioned Billy since his death, at least not in front of you or Max. 

Especially Max. 

They wait for you to react. To tense up, ball your hands into fists and wipe away tears. They expect the guilt you’ve barely kept hidden to resurface, but you don’t do any of that. Instead, you surprise them. “Can’t believe you let a mullet defeat you.”

Steve isn’t sure if he’s allowed to laugh at first, worried it’s some bizarre test of yours. But he sees the smile on your face, albeit forced and terse, but he knows you’re trying. So he plays along, relieved that you’re doing what you can. “I don’t know, I thought the mullet looked pretty good.”

“Get a mullet and see how fast I leave you.”

Dustin nods in agreement, Steve shakes his head with a laugh, and the temperature in the car returns. There’s still a slight chill in the air, there will always be a slight chill, but you pull your jacket tighter around you and ignore it. 

When you get to the school, Dustin stares at the hounds of teens all walking through the parking lot. He gulps, tightens his hands around his backpack, and you try to ease his apprehension. 

“Hey, look at me.” He does, and you extend your arm, offering a handshake. Dustin eyes you wearily, but reluctantly he shakes your hand. You nod at him, hand firm around his. “It’s just you and me. And Lucas. Max, too. Unfortunately, possibly Mike. Copy?”

“Copy.” Dustin releases your hand and salutes you. He pushes his hat down, takes a deep breath, and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Let’s go.”

“Good luck, little Henderson.” Steve salutes him as well before turning to you. He presses his lips to yours, hums, a soft smile on his face. “And good luck, angel.”

Ignoring Dustin’s dramatic gagging in the back, you squeeze Steve’s hand and smile back at him. “Thanks, honey. Have a good day at work.”

Dustin nearly falls out of the car with how fast he scrambles out of it. He’s about to ban all forms of physical affection between you and Steve. It’s disgusting. No one wants to see any of that. You follow after your brother and exit the car.

You only make it a few feet before Steve rolls down the car window and shouts, “I love you!”

A few students in the parking lot turn, and their faces contort into shock when they see none other than Steve Harrington. He waves at them, cocky as always, and you’re both mortified and so in love. He may have lost his crown, but he will always be the king. While Dustin ducks his head down in embarrassment, you wink at Steve. “I love you, too!”

“You’re going to be the reason I end up getting thrown into a dumpster on my first day.”

“Aw, is Dusty-bun jealous?”

“Go die.”

–

The entire day it feels like you’re missing something. 

When you get to homeroom, there isn’t a seat saved for you at the front. When the physics teacher drops his chalk five times within the first five minutes, there isn’t anyone to tease you for your poorly contained snicker. In the library, you’re forced to sit in a corner because there’s no one to share the plush sofa with. 

There’s no one who whispers answers to you during calculus. No one who hooks their foot around your desk’s leg. No one who doodles in your notebook just to get you to laugh. 

Jonathan’s absence is palpable. 

You knew it would feel weird, starting senior year without him, but you didn’t think it’d feel so lonely, either. Empty. Unfinished. 

By the time lunch comes, you’re slowly losing your mind. You need someone to talk to. Robin and Nancy don’t share any classes with you, Jonathan had been your only real friend at Hawkins, and now you’re paying the price. 

You’re the first one at the lunch table, which you figure is a good thing. Earlier in the week you and the party had all agreed to sit together at lunch, you’d been excited to finally share the same school building as them. However, you hadn’t wanted to hover over them. You wanted them to branch out, meet new people, so lunch was your agreed upon time with them. 

The lunch room fills with students and you wait anxiously for the rest of the party. You’re excited to see them, ask how their days are going, maybe even gossip about the freshmen, but when they arrive it’s almost as if a tornado rips right through you. 

“There you are!” Dustin finds you first and slides into the seat next to you, nearly causing you to face plant into the ground. “Look, we gotta talk.”

You frown. “Okay, is everything–”

“We can’t stay and eat.” Mike cuts to the chase, not even bothering to sit down. Lucas stands behind him, quiet and nervous.

“What, why?”

“Eddie Munson wants to meet us.” Dustin says the boy’s name as if you should know him. But you don’t, and now you’re really confused. What does he have to do with any of this?

“Eddie…?”

Mike rolls his eyes at you. “Eddie Munson, Hellfire club, DnD?” When he sees that nothing he’s saying makes any sense to you, he huffs. “Seriously, do you not know anything?”

You throw a chip at him, hurt. “I was in choir, not some stupid DnD club.”

“Hellfire club isn’t stupid–”

“Anyways!” Dustin cuts the fight short. There isn’t time for you and Mike to argue right now. “Eddie is the dungeon master, and he’s recruiting us to join his party! We–we gotta go and meet him, Y/N. He doesn’t just let plebe freshmen like us join.”

“He’s legendary.” Mike says, and sadly you know he means it. It’s not often someone has the boy’s full admiration. Mike is hard to impress, and this Eddie guy seems to have him wrapped around his finger already.

Dustin stares up at you, eyes pleading to understand, and you know you can’t ruin this for him. Only hours ago he had been terrified of his first day, and now he’s almost vibrating with excitement over the possibility of joining some club. There will be people there like him, others interested in what he loves, and you can’t let your own loneliness ruin that. 

“Well,” you clear your throat, try to appear excited for the boys. “Go see Eddie, then.”

“You sure?” Dustin doesn’t want to just leave, he knows you were looking forward to lunch today. He’ll stay if you need him to, he’s sure Mike can talk his way in with Eddie. 

You smile at him, force your voice to be light. They’re growing up. You all are. “I’m sure, it’s your first day. You’re supposed to be joining a bunch of clubs, it’s a good way to make friends. I’m proud of you. Seriously.”

Dustin isn’t entirely convinced, but Mike has already grabbed his arm to go and find Eddie. He turns to Lucas, beckons him to follow. “C’mon, dude.”

“I’ll-uh. Follow in a sec.” Mike gives him an odd look, but Lucas is already sitting down next to you. Seeing this, Mike gives up and leaves with Dustin. As soon as they’re gone, Lucas lowers his voice and leans in close to you. “Hey, do you, uh. Know Jason Carver?”

The scent of chocolate ice cream infiltrates your nose, the sound of it colliding into the teen’s pants rings in your ears. The memory of it is tangible, and you have to hold back a laugh. Yeah, you know Jason Carver. “I mean, we aren’t friends, but we know each other. Why?”

“Do you…” Lucas looks around, making sure Mike and Dustin really are gone, before he continues. “Do you think he’d let me join the basketball team?”

You’re surprised. Sure, Lucas has always shown an interest in the sport. He plays with Steve sometimes, they trade cards, but you didn’t think he’d be interested in the school’s team. “Oh.” Then, you realize why he’s stayed behind. “You don’t want to join Hellfire, do you?”

“I know I’m just a freshman, and–and Mike would probably call me dumb for wanting to even try out, but. I don’t know. I think… I think I could be really good on the team. Might make high school easier.”

“Then you should go for it,” you reassure Lucas. He’s always been so careful to not upset others. He’s loyal, down to his very core, you understand the fear that doing something for yourself brings. “Jason isn’t so bad. A bit much, but kind. He’s a team player, and I think they'd be lucky to have someone like you.”

Lucas smiles shyly at you. “Really?”

“Really. Now, go and find the guy. Ask him when try-outs are, and I’ll talk to Steve about practicing more with you. How’s that sound?”

“You’re the best!” Lucas gives you a quick hug, already getting out of his seat, and runs right into Max. They collide, he manages to save her from falling, and he laughs sheepishly. “Sorry, you okay?”

Max nods, silent, and immediately you and Lucas know that today is one of her bad days. Her eyes are sunken in, it doesn’t look like she got any sleep last night. She sits down next to you, and you nod at Lucas, signaling to him that it’s okay if he leaves. You’ll take care of her. 

Lucas hesitates, unsure, but reluctantly leaves when you nod at him once more, urging. If it was anyone else, he would stay, but it’s you. Besides Lucas, you’re the only other person Max talks to. You’ll stay with her, Lucas deserves to go and branch out like Mike and Dustin are.

“So, did you know about Lucas wanting to join the basketball team?” You turn to Max once the boy has left. She shrugs, picks at the food in front of her. It’s the most response you’ll get from her, and you sigh. “You don’t want to be here either, do you?”

She looks up at you, alarmed that you caught on so fast, and you just shake your head at her. You dig into your backpack, take out some cookies you baked the night before. They were supposed to be for all the kids today, but they’ve all left and Max needs them more right now. “Here, take these. Go to the left stairwell, next to the choir room. No one goes there during lunch, it’s quiet.”

“Thank you,” Max exhales with relief, taking the baked goods from you. Tears lump in her throat, she doesn’t know how you always manage to do this. To see through her, always say the right thing. 

“Of course, my dear.” You risk touching her face, she’s cold, but she closes her eyes and breathes in at the comfort. “I expect to see you at Bookstrordinary after school today, though.”

Somehow Max laughs, and the action hurts her to do so. It’s becoming harder and harder to bear the sound of her own happiness. But she nods at you, understanding that it’s an order she can’t disobey, and leaves. 

Then it’s just you at the lunch table. Alone. 

Nancy is at yearbook, she’s told you all about her grand plan of reforming the club into something more than just homecoming polls and gossip panels. Robin is at yet another band practice, preparing for the annual back to school pep rally later this week. Steve is at Family Video, bored out of his mind, both of you wishing he were here instead. 

And Jonathan is across the country, at an entirely different school, aching to be near you again. 

The thought of him in California only intensifies the loneliness that you feel. The feeling overwhelms you, and before it can swallow you whole, you dig through your backpack once more. Your fingers shake as you rustle through the notebooks and textbooks, and they clutch desperately at your walkman when you finally find it. The mixtape Jonathan made for you before he left sits within it. 

You quickly place the headphones over your head, muffling the sounds of the cafeteria around you. Your fingers find the play button with practiced ease, and soon the beginning notes of the Beatles play through the wire and into your headphones.

The song soothes you, it quiets what you don’t want to hear; it makes you smile. The mixtape is all you’ve been listening to ever since Jonathan left. Though it can never replace his presence, it’s enough for now. 

You stare at the empty seats around you. John Lennon’s voice floats through your ears. 

Welcome to senior year.

– 

Miraculously, it’s Nancy you lean on the most as the autumn leaves turn orange and the summer’s heat dies down. She finds you later during your first week, grabbing lunch from your locker, and she stops you. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to spend another lunch alone.” Nancy has never been one to greet someone. She always gets straight to the point, a quality that you normally admire.

However, you feel embarrassment rise within you, slightly off put by the cruel words. Sure, you’re not necessarily thrilled that you’ve spent your first few days of senior year alone, but you didn’t need Nancy reminding you of that. “Hello to you too, Nance.”

“Shit, I didn’t mean to offend you.” She holds her notebook close to her chest and looks down in shame. It’s weird, there’s a distance between you that has only seemed to widen despite how hard the two of you try to bridge it. For a while things were good, great, even. She was genuinely your friend, but sometimes insecurities can hurt the ones people love the most. 

“Not really sure how I was meant to take that.” You close your locker and try to excuse yourself. You’re exhausted, you hardly slept the night before. “Look, I should go. I stayed up all night working on stupid college applications and I just… I’m tired.”

Nancy’s posture straightens, eager to grab onto any opportunity to amend things with you. “I can read over whatever you have.” When you raise your eyebrows at her, she quickly backtracks, worried she’s overstepped. “I–I mean, that is, if you want. Not that you need the help! It’s just–”

She forces herself to stop. She’s rushing her words, messing it all up. Her shoulders drop, Nancy takes a deep breath and looks you in the eye. She never apologized for her words earlier this summer. The way she sneered venom at you, but she’s carried the guilt of it ever since. “I’m… trying. I promise I am.”

Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers have never handled vulnerability well. It’s what made you stand out against them, set you apart, and you can’t help but find this quality in them endearing. You know that Nancy is trying to go back to how things were, before one phone call between the two of you revealed the unspoken resentment she held. 

You never blamed her for any of it. But you know she blames herself, and Jonathan’s absence doesn’t help; both of you miss him, neither of you can afford to lose anyone else. 

So you try as well.

“I’ll let you read over what I have only if you let me read what you’ve written as well.” You nudge her shoulder with yours, getting her to finally smile. “I’m curious to see what that brain of yours has thought of already.”

Nancy laughs, relieved. “Definitely nothing as creative as whatever you’ve written.”

“We’ll see about that, Wheeler.”

Soon you find yourself in the yearbook room. Nancy introduces you to some kid named Fred, who moons over her the entire time you’re there, though she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s too busy reading through your ideas, and you find yourself admiring her side profile. The way her eyelashes kiss her brows, the soft cherry on her lips.

Nancy is beautiful. You understand how Jonathan and Fred and Steve and countless other guys in Hawkins have lost their minds over her. 

You read through portions of Nancy’s writing, and the two of you sit quietly side by side editing the essays. She marks some things down, crosses out some lines, and you do the same. It’s lovely, being by her side again. You hadn’t realized just how much you missed her following the events of this summer. 

“So, New York University, huh?” Nancy eventually breaks the silence.

You nod, humming as you skim over a line that you particularly like. Circling it, you respond. “Yeah, it’s been my dream school ever since I was young.”

Though you’re applying to other schools as well. A few state schools, some in Virginia, close to your father. But New York is truly where you hope you’ll be next fall.

“Jonathan mentioned that you like psychology, right?”

“Yup,” you cross out an extra word. “Particularly child psychology. Figured that after everything we’ve been through, especially the kids, it’d be useful if at least one of us has any idea what’s going on inside our minds.”

Nancy chuckles. “Fair.”

It falls quiet again, but you don’t want the peace to end. “I heard from Jonathan that you’re looking into Emerson.”

“He tells you everything, doesn’t he?” Though this time Nancy’s question is asked with fondness, slight exasperation and humor mixed in.

“Mhm, we’re a package deal. You tell one of us something, then the other is bound to know eventually.” You look up at Nancy and lightly touch her arm. “Though he still keeps some things from me when it comes to you, don’t worry.”

She laughs again, and finally you allow the silence to settle upon you. It’s a comfortable one. There isn’t a tension underlying it. For the first time in a long time, you’re able to simply sit next to Nancy and feel that she wants you there with her. 

After that day, you and Nancy spend almost every lunch period helping each other with your applications. 

Steve helps you, too. In his own ways. 

While he can’t help you write the essays, he lets you call him at two in the morning to rattle off application ideas so you won’t forget them. He doesn’t complain when you wake him up and he has an early shift the next day. Instead, he listens. Steve offers you his own tired input and indulges in whatever you need to feel that you’ll succeed; he’s the most doting, patient boyfriend you could ever ask for. 

And, secretly, Steve adores it. Especially when you call him some nights just to have him come over and hold you. 

Those are his favorite nights. Tonight is one of them.

“Why does college exist?” Your cheek is pressed against Steve’s chest as you lay in your bed together. The steady rise and fall of his breathing is melodic. 

He plays with a strand of your hair, you feel him shrug. “‘Dunno, but you’re almost done.”

“Yeah, just have one more application to send before I get to spend four agonizing months waiting to find out if I even get in. How fun.” Sarcasm drips from your lips. You’ve spent the last two months obsessing over it all, which words to write in your essays, which clubs to join, which teachers to beg for recommendation letters. 

And now you have one application left. Then you’ll be forced to wait, without any control of the inevitable outcome. 

You’ve never been someone comfortable with letting go of control. 

“Everything will be fine, angel. NYU would be stupid not to let you in.” Steve reassures you with a kiss to your temple, then to your cheek, the tip of your nose, the dip of your brows. As he kisses you, he envisions doing this a year from now, in a small, rundown apartment with sirens wailing outside and a fire escape that creaks in the wind. The song of New York City. 

Eventually Steve’s lips will find yours, and the conversation will be long forgotten. It’s how most of your nights end now, lost in the kisses as his breath mixes with yours. Hands will wander. Sighs will leave parted mouths. Quiet, soft, aware of the precariously thin walls. 

You haven't slept with Steve, at least not yet. Though you’ve been together a few months now, it still feels too soon. He’s your first boyfriend, your first kiss, your first real love, and Steve doesn’t want to rush you. If all you ever do together is lazily kiss and breathe each other in, then Steve will happily part your lips with his and draw soft sighs out from you.

In the morning you’ll awake with Steve’s lips on your neck, his eyes shining up at you, and in the morning sunlight, before you’ve fully woken up, the air between you is sacred. 

–

“I sent in my final application,” you’re whispering, not wanting to wake up your mom who has fallen asleep on the couch. It’s nearly midnight in Indiana, but in California it’s only nine and Jonathan has just finished his school work for the night. “NYU, it’s done.”

On the other end you hear shuffling as Jonathan leans against his kitchen wall. Will sits at the table with El, he sketches the early stages of a painting and she studies grammar. Jonathan watches them, his mom is in bed, and he forgets for a moment that he’s on the phone with you.

“Bee?” You say the childhood name so softly, so tenderly with concern, and it brings Jonathan back to himself. 

“I’m here, sorry.” He clears his throat, his head is still slightly muffled. Jonathan met a guy in woodshop this week, his name is Argyle, and somehow during lunch he found himself in the back of the guy’s van with a blunt hanging loosely from his lips. The smoke dulled the ache of missing Nancy, of missing you. Jonathan can’t tell you this, though. You’d kill him, and he hates disappointing you. “What were you saying?”

You frown slightly, he sounds different. There’s something in his voice, it’s raspy and he sounds distant. The sound is lonely, he sounds lonely. Jonathan isn’t really here, despite the fact that he’s talking to you. The last few phone calls have been like this. You don’t know what to do.  

When Jonathan left, the two of you promised to call each other every Friday, a compromise. A way to create distance, yet tether you to each other. Jonathan calls you every Friday, Nancy gets him every day the rest of the week, and it works. This is how it’s always been ever since early September.

At first you guys would talk about how your weeks had gone. Jonathan would complain about the California heat and you would tell him about how Mike and Lucas had crashed your date with Steve one night. Laughter would float over the telephone lines. Teasing, whispered “I miss you’s” and spoken goodbyes with the promise of talking again next week. 

But last week when you called, the teasing was gone. The laughter was minimal. You had complained about an exam that day and Jonathan had given one word responses that had worried you. It had been odd, but you thought that maybe he’d been tired that day. Everyone has a bad day, you know this.

Yet it’s Friday again and Jonathan couldn’t feel farther away from you.

“I mailed my NYU application in, bee. You send in yours yet?” Voice light, cheery. You do what you can to try and keep him afloat. You try to grasp at the good that’s left between you. Remind Jonathan that you’re right here, still with him, without scaring him away. “You remember our plan, right? Me and you in New York, together.”

Since you were kids the plan has always been to go to college together. Back then, neither of you could fathom a reason to ever be apart. You were invincible, the same way all kids think they are before the world tells them otherwise. 

But you and Jonathan aren’t invincible, you never were. 

You can hear the way your question suffocates him. The breath that he holds, stilted and torn, suffocates you as well. 

Nausea punches Jonathan, the smoke from earlier suddenly fogs his throat. He doesn’t know what to do. Nancy wants him to go to Emerson with her, he promised you NYU when he was twelve, and California has his mother and Will.

“Yeah, yeah. I–I mean, I sent mine in. Last week.”

Jonathan is lying. You’ve known him for almost six years; he always stumbles over his words when he lies.  

Part of you wants to ask him why he’s doing this, lying to you and pulling away. Another part of you, the larger, more naive part, doesn’t want to believe it. You clear your throat, swallow down the hurt, and choose naivety. “Oh,” your tone is too pinched, too put together. You clear your throat again. “That’s–that’s great! I, um. Surprised you didn’t read the essays to me. Have me edit them, like we’ve always done.”

Jonathan leans his head against the wall and squeezes his eyes shut. He’s never been able to lie to you, he knows you’re desperately trying to overcompensate, as you always do. He hates it. He hates himself. “Yeah, well. Got excited, I guess.”

You hum, words failing you, and the line goes silent.

Dread replaces the laughter that night.

– 

Before you know it, it’s Halloween and the party has infiltrated Steve’s house. 

The holiday falls on a Saturday, and the party deems itself too old to trick or treat. When they find out that Steve’s parents won’t be home that weekend, they demand to spend the night at his house and watch horror movies.

Steve fights back, complains that he doesn’t want them taking over his living room, but his complaints fall on deaf ears. That, and Dustin ropes Robin into their plans. 

“Oh, God. Don’t open the door!” Dustin shrieks, throwing popcorn at Steve’s TV as he covers his eyes with a blanket. He cowers against Lucas, who shoves him off, and Mike snickers. Max sits on the couch, outside of their fort, and watches the boys. None of them try to get her to sit with them. They know they’re lucky that she even showed in the first place. 

“I can’t look.” Robin’s voice carries over, you can almost picture her cringing as she holds a pillow to her chest. Mike chose a particularly gory movie, and the kid’s mind frightens her.

A loud crash sounds, then a woman screams. You figure the protagonist did open the door and has now died, though you can’t be sure. You’re in the kitchen with Steve, taking out the final batch of oatmeal raisin cookies from the oven. The smell wafts through the home, bringing warmth to a house that Steve has always found cold, and he places his hands on your hips. 

“You spoil the kids too much,” he presses his nose against your cheek and kisses you. “They invade my home and you bake them delicious goods.”

You set the tray of cookies down onto the counter. “As if the cookies aren’t for you, too.”

“That isn’t important. We’re focusing on my hostage house, Y/N.”

“‘Hostage house’, quite the alliteration there.”

Steve now kisses your neck, distracting you as you plate the cookies. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.” 

“Don’t make me come in there!” Dustin screams, and Robin echoes him with her own disgusted yelling. 

You laugh at their theatrics while Steve rolls his eyes. He really hates that his house has become the party’s source of entertainment. He just wants to compliment his beautiful girlfriend in peace. Who would punish a guy for that?

In his moping Steve almost misses you walking back into the living room. He follows, stumbles over his feet, never wanting to be more than a few inches away from you. You’re magnetic, always pulling him in. 

Mike is the first to grab a handful of cookies. Lucas and Dustin follow quickly after. They shove the food into their mouths and you scoff at their lack of manners. They’re such boys, growing taller every day, and they’re just as disgusting as they were when they were kids. 

“Want one, Max?” You hold the plate up to her, noticing that she hasn’t moved from her seat. She shakes her head at you, eyes never leaving the screen. Lucas and you share a look, the same concerned expression on your faces. 

The moment is broken by Robin, who grabs a cookie and practically melts. “Holy shit, Y/N. You bake these regularly?”

“Usually once a week,” you shrug at her. “Though I once baked six batches during finals week.”

“God, that was a good week.” Dustin hums, lost in the blissful memory.

Robin grabs your arm, eyes wide with enthusiasm. “I will give you my firstborn child in exchange for my own batch of cookies.”

Steve pokes her shoulder. “You already promised your firstborn to me after I agreed to cover your weekend shift.”

“I can have twins.”

You laugh at her. “That’s a terrifying thought.”

Robin sticks her tongue out at you, causing you to laugh even more, and Mike puts the next movie on. Everyone settles back down, you lay with Steve in the lovechair with Robin in front of you. Max has the couch to herself, the boys are sprawled on the floor in a mess of pillows and blankets, and for the first time in months you feel a certain warmth having your family together. 

Sometime during the night the clock strikes twelve. 

It’s November 1st, 1985. 

Steve’s nineteenth birthday. 

Robin snores softly on the ground, arm underneath her head as a makeshift pillow. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas are all curled up against one another, their faces young again. Max sleeps softly on the couch, her hand dangles over the edge, grazing Lucas’ outstretched arm and open palm. 

Steve lays beneath you, he isn’t quite asleep yet. You’ve come to learn the rhythm of his breaths as he sleeps. The way they slow, the pattern steady. You lift your head up, wanting to admire him, and find that he’s already looking at you. 

“Hi, angel.” He whispers, smiling sweetly. 

You smile back, you always smile back at him. “Hi, honey.” Doing your best to remain quiet, you crawl up the length of Steve and nuzzle your way into his neck. You kiss the dip just above his collarbone, causing him to shiver. “Happy birthday.”

Arms encase you, pull you deeper into the body you lay on. Steve’s body heat warms your face, warms your bones, and you wish you could stay like this forever. In Steve’s arms, the scent of him overwhelming your mind, his touch calming you. 

“Thank you,” he kisses the top of your head. He lingers, his lips soft. The two of you stay like this, his head against yours, your chin tucked into the alcove of his neck. Your breathing syncs with his, his fingers trail up and down your spine. Your fingers splay over his chest, warming his ribs. 

In the morning, Max wakes everyone up. 

“My mom will be worried,” she kicks Mike, nudges Lucas’ shoulder. “Wake up, idiots.” 

Steve groans, squinting his eyes against the morning light. He tries to roll over and block it out and nearly shoves you off the seat in the process. “Steve!” He manages to catch you in his sleepy state, but his movements are slow. 

“Sorry!”

You clutch your chest, heart pounding. “You’ve done that way too many times now. I’m starting to think you want to throw me onto the ground.”

“Lucas once promised he could catch me if I jumped into his arms.” Max says, then she points to a scar on her knee. “Turned out he couldn’t.” 

“Hey!” Lucas sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “I really thought I could do it.”

Mike stretches. “Your fault for trusting him, Max.”

Lucas shoves him and the two start to wrestle on the floor. They’re a tangle of lanky limbs, knocking into Dustin who still hasn’t woken up yet. They roll on top of the boy, and he wakes up to Lucas’ knee in his face. “What the hell?”

Dustin joins the fighting now, and Robin throws a pillow at them. “Guys! It’s too early for this!”

They don’t listen. 

It takes a lot of pleading, negotiating, and bribes in order to break the fight up. It takes even longer to wrangle the kids out of Steve’s home, much to his dismay. They leave a mess of strewn popcorn all over the carpet and pillows missing feathers. You stay behind, offering to help clean the mess, and Robin rushes out an apology and happy birthday to Steve as she runs out the door to get to work. 

Soon it’s just you and Steve. You work around one another, anticipating each other’s next move, never getting in the way. Soft music plays from the record player that sits in the den. Steve puts on one of his father’s old records, gentle rock and delicate jazz. You hum to yourself, he hums with you, and it’s a peaceful morning.

Until Richard and May Harrington walk in.

Neither of you notice them at first. Steve is too busy spinning you around, playfully dipping you as the music comes to a grand crescendo. You’re laughing breathlessly, but soon your laughter turns into a yelp when Steve sees his parents standing in the doorway and drops you.

“Dad!” Steve immediately bends down to pick you up, endlessly apologetic. He ducks his head, eyes on you, though his body doesn’t turn from his father. “I’m sorry, angel. You alright?”

You reassure your boyfriend that you’re fine, more worried about the fact that you’re dressed in clothes from yesterday with horrendous bedhead meeting his parents for the first time. Richard eyes you in Steve’s arms. He has a look of disinterest on his face. “Son.”

“What, uh.” Steve clears his throat, curls a protective arm around your waist. He didn’t mean for this to happen. His parents were supposed to be gone until Tuesday. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.” 

“Right.”

Father and son stand in front of one another. Neither speaks. Steve feels like a little boy again, scrutinized underneath his father’s intense gaze. Never good enough. Never worthy of anything other than berating and lectures. 

You wring your hands nervously, unsure what to do. The air is thick. Steve looks so much like his father, it’s almost uncanny. They have the same build, the same moles that dot along their handsome faces. Only his father is dressed in a suit, the lines in his face are hard, weathered. He’s who you picture Steve would’ve been, in a different universe where you were never his friend. 

May Harrington gave her son all of her delicate features. The soft turn of his nose. The plush, pink lips. His doe eyes, his smile. The only feature that separates her from her son is her honey blonde hair. She’s beautiful, elegant and poised, and when she steps towards you, you can smell lavender perfume. “You must be Y/N. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Hi, Mrs. Harrington.” You’re quick to meet her where she stands. You’re nervous, you have to discreetly wipe your hand on your pants before shaking hers. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you. Your banana bread is lovely.”

The woman smiles, it’s so much like Steve’s that you want to cry. “Thank you, dear.”

“Of course, and I apologize for meeting like this. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Richard makes a mean, gruff sound. He shakes his head, steps next to his wife. He doesn’t like you, you can feel it by the way he blocks his wife’s view of you. “Oh, no. I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Dad–” Steve steps forward as well, blocking his father’s view of you. He’s angry, his shoulder blades close together. He doesn’t like how the man is treating you; you’re too good for such cruelty.

“What did I tell you about bringing your hookups to the house, son?” Richard sneers, turning his nose up at you. That’s all he sees you as. Just another one of Steve’s flings, one of the girls from his past. 

“Y/N is not just some hookup,” Steve clenches his jaw, tries to steady his breathing. He doesn’t want to fight with his dad in front of you. Not when he was having such a good morning, spending his birthday with your hands wrapped around his neck and your giggles singing in his ears. “She’s my girlfriend, and I love her.”

Richard chuckles, he doesn’t believe his son. “Okay, you love her. I’m sure your mother and I will walk in on you with some new girl next week.”

“Dear,” May places a hand on her husband’s shoulder. She sees the way you shrink into yourself at the man’s words. The insecurity that he brings. She sees how her son’s eyes ignite with fury, she watches as he does whatever he can to put the flame out for her sake and yours. “It’s Steve’s birthday today.”

“Is that why you insisted on coming home today?” Richard turns to her, she has his full attention now. His eyebrows are drawn together, annoyance paints his body. “You told me you had a board meeting tonight.” 

“Why don’t we talk about this upstairs?” May suggests, relieved that she’s turned her husband’s anger onto herself rather than her son. Richard sighs, but he doesn’t argue as he marches up the stairs without so much as a second glance towards you. When he’s gone, May smiles at you sympathetically. “I apologize for my husband’s behavior. We had a long flight, I’m sure he’s simply jetlagged.” 

“Yeah, that’s why he’s such an asshole.” Steve scoffs, tired of his mother’s excuses for her husband. He can be cruel to Steve, he doesn’t care. He’s been cruel to him his entire life. But if his father so much as breathes near you again, Steve will hurt him. 

Your hand reaches for Steve’s, sensing what he’s thinking. You return May’s smile, you’re not at all angry with her. “It’s okay, really. I was an unexpected guest, and I should go.”

Steve pulls you into his chest. “What, no–”

“You may leave, if you’d like.” His mother gently interrupts him. “Though I must admit, I really do wish to know you better. If you’d allow me to, that is.”

“I’d love that more than anything.”

“Then I will plan a dinner for the next time my husband and I are in town.” May tells you, admiring your honesty. She can see why Steve has become so infatuated with you. There’s nothing hidden within you; you wear your heart on your sleeve, your sincerity a welcomed rarity. She turns to her son, rests her palm delicately against his face. “Happy birthday, my beautiful boy.”

Steve leans into her touch, weak for his mother as any son is. You turn away, it doesn’t feel right to watch this moment between them. 

In the car Steve profusely apologizes for his father’s behavior. Over and over again, he laments how sorry he is and that you’re more than just some fling to him. “You’re everything to me, angel. I love you so, so much.”

“I know, honey.” You grab his hand that rests against the stick shift. His father’s words had hurt, but you knew that they weren’t true. Steve is yours, he has been for longer than either of you realize. Nothing will ever undo the love he has for you, the foundation of trust it was built upon. “You’re everything to me, too.”

When Steve pulls into your driveway, you tell him to park and come inside. His birthday gift is in your room. You had planned to give it to him later tonight, but his parents’ unexpected arrival had soured things. “I know you have to go home, but…”

“I’ll never say no to you.” Steve’s already unbuckling his seatbelt to follow you inside. He greets your mother with a kiss to her cheek, ruffles Dustin’s hair as he sits at the dining table doing homework. His movements are easy, leisurely. You notice now how at home he is in yours, far from the boy who cowered before his father only twenty minutes ago. The realization is bittersweet. He deserves to feel at home in his own house, not just yours. 

Inside your room Steve sits on your bed and holds his hand out, eager. “Okay, wow me, Henderson.”

“You really know how to talk to a woman.” You tease him, rustling through your drawer to find the gift you’ve hidden. Steve is nosy, he’s been trying to find his gift for at least two weeks now. When you’ve found it, you clutch the gift in your hand and hold it behind your back. “Alright, you know the drill by now. Close your eyes.”

Steve complies with a smirk, biting back suggestive comments. He loves this tradition with you, making the other close their eyes before their gift. Something light is placed in Steve’s hand. It’s circular, sturdy. He thinks he can smell leather.

“Okay, open.”

In his hand is a bracelet. It’s a simple strip of leather, nothing embellishes it besides a button to secure it. Though it’s plain, Steve can tell that it’s expensive. The leather is supple, its color is dark and polished. The silver button that clasps the two ends together is heavy.

He loves it, he does, but he can’t help feeling like that there must be something more to it.

As if reading his mind, you gently prompt Steve to turn it over in his hands. “Look what’s on the inside, honey.”

He does, and his heart stops.

The leather has been stamped. The word constants is spelled out across the length of the band. It’s a hidden message, only for Steve to know, and while he’s sure you have your own explanation for why you chose the word constants, he loves it already. “Oh.”

You sit next to him and laugh softly. “You’re my constant, Steve. Everything in my life has changed, or will change, but you… You’ve always been there, I know you’ll always be there. With me. My love, my lucky charm, my constant.”

Tears well in Steve’s eyes. He doesn’t bother wiping them away, too busy admiring the bracelet in his hand. He can’t believe you’re real, that you’ve thought of this for him. That you see a future with him… It’s everything he could’ve asked for. A security he’s always longed to have. His entire life he’s been told he’s too much, too overwhelming, and yet you want him to stay anyways. 

“And you’re my constant?” He asks you, fingers grazing over the letters again.

You nudge his shoulder with yours. “Well, I’d like to think that I am.”

He laughs, wet and full of love, and he can’t take it anymore. Steve throws his arms over you and you collapse into your bed, laughing together as he presses his lips wherever they can reach. 

“You are,” he says in between kisses. Your laughter lights him. “You’re my constant, too.”

–

The autumn leaves fall and the trees are barren as winter arrives. 

You spend winter break trying to maintain your promise to Joyce. After finishing the hell that was applying to college, you have so much unexpected free time that at first you don't know what to do. But then her words echo in your mind, the promise to live the life that you deserve, so you start doing things for yourself.

Slowly you read through all the books in your room that you hadn't had time for before. You start running again in the mornings, the winter air crisp in your lungs. You and Dustin do homework together at the kitchen table, making sure neither of you get left behind. You try new recipes to bake, delivering the treats to the ones you love. It’s nice, rediscovering the pleasures you once had long before the Upside Down came into your life. 

Christmas comes and you do your annual rounds, delivering everyone’s favorite treats on Christmas Eve. It’s during your run to the Sinclair home that Lucas asks you to come inside to talk. 

“What’s up?” You ask him, unwrapping your scarf and warming your hands in your sleeves. Lucas gestures to his kitchen table, silently asking you to sit. When you do, he takes a deep breath and joins you. 

Something’s bothering him. You can see it in the way he carries a weight on his shoulders. How they droop as he sits, exhausted. You reach across the table and grab his hand, offering whatever comfort you can give him. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me.”

“It’s…” Lucas purses his lips, his breath shakes. “It’s Max. I’m–I’m worried about her.”

He tells you everything. He tells you how distant she’s been, more than she’s ever been before. He tells you how she’s missed dates he’s planned for her, how she refuses to talk to him anymore. She hasn’t been to any of the party’s hangouts, Mike and Dustin haven’t seen her ever since winter break started.

Max has had bad days, weeks, even months since losing Billy. But she’s never had the bad days without at least one good day following. To break the monotonous cycle of self-loathing and grief and guilt. She would always come back, even if for a moment, alive and bright and reminiscent of the girl had been. 

“I can feel her slipping away,” Lucas looks down at the table. He’s afraid that if he looks at you then he’ll start crying. He doesn’t want you to worry, he knows how much you already deal with and do for them, but he’s terrified. “I know… I know that you helped Will, after he was flayed. Do you think you could maybe talk to Max? Just… Remind her that we’re here for her? I can’t–I can’t lose her.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours, trying to stem the stream of tears he fought so hard to force down. Lucas loves Max with everything within him. Anyone can see that. You’d do anything to bring the girl back to him, to bring her back to all of you. “I’ll talk to her.”

I’ll keep an eye on her. Watch her when you can’t. 

Lucas hears it. He exhales, nods his head.

You leave. Max was the next one on your list of deliveries anyways. 

It’s nearing dusk by the time you get to the trailer park. You haven’t seen Max’s new home, she’s only recently moved. She had been too embarrassed to tell anyone that her mother lost their old house. The only reason you even know she moved in the first place is because Lucas and Dustin stalked her walking home. 

A dog barks as you bike past. Snow has started to fall, tomorrow will be a white Christmas.

“Oh, hello, Y/N.” Susan Hargrove’s skin is pale, her eyes sunken in when she answers the door. Her voice is thin, her frame is strained. The death has been hard on her, too. Billy’s father leaving only made everything worse. 

“Hi, Mrs. Hargrove.”

The woman winces. “Please, Mayfield will be fine.”

You immediately correct yourself, apologetic and ashamed, when Max’s voice calls from within the home. “Just let Y/N in, mom.”

Susan sighs, and you wish you could do more. Instead, all you can offer her is the container of coconut bites you’ve made for them. Max told you they remind her and her mother of California, and you always make sure to have some ready every week for them. Offer some semblance of joy in the gray of their lives.

Max sits at the kitchen table. Her head is down as she works on something. She has her walkman next to her. Susan leaves the two of you alone, excusing herself to go lay down after a long shift. 

You sit next to the girl and take a deep breath. This won’t be easy. Max is prideful, stubbornly independent, and has never accepted sympathy from anyone. You’ve always admired her fiery personality, but the fire has dimmed and the smoke is beginning to choke her. Talking to her will be like pulling teeth out. 

“Brought you your favorites.” You shake the container in your hands. It serves as a peace offering, almost a bribe to start the conversation. 

“Thanks.” Max doesn’t look up. 

You swallow, tuck your hair behind your ears. “Of course. I was doing my usual delivery rounds. I, uh. Stopped at the Sinclair’s.”

The pencil in Max’s hand freezes. Her knuckles tighten, though the shift is subtle. She’s always been too smart for her own good. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Erica likes my brownies. Mrs. Sinclair, too.”

“And Lucas?” She knows why you’re here.

“I made him chocolate chip cookies. You know how much he loves them.” Max doesn’t respond. Of course she knows how much Lucas enjoys chocolate chip cookies. She knows everything about him, but she doesn’t say anything and goes back to writing. Faintly you hear music coming from the walkman. You point at the device. “New song?”

“Kate Bush.”

“Oh.” This is going worse than you imagined. “Look, Max–”

She doesn’t waste any time. “I know Lucas sent you. I don’t care.”

“He’s just worried about you, we all are–”

“I’m fine.” The tip of the pencil snaps. “Shit.”

“Max.” You’re pleading with her to listen. Her skin is fluorescent now, paler than you’ve ever seen. The bags underneath her eyes are swollen, dark and ghostly. She’s lost weight. You can’t remember the last time you saw her eat. “Please.”

“What do you want me to do?” Though there’s anger in her voice, Max’s eyes plead with you, too. Her mask slips for just a moment, but you see it. Underneath her indifferent exterior, she’s just as terrified as everyone else is. She can feel herself fading, the guilt of Billy’s death slowly eats her alive. She doesn’t know what to do, though. How do you continue to live after death has infiltrated your home?

The chair beneath you scraps against the hardwood floor. You stand up, walk over to Max and kneel in front of her. You keep your movements slow, worried you’ll scare her away if you get too close too suddenly. “I think you should talk to someone, honey.”

Max turns away. She can’t. If she told anyone what goes on inside her head, they would never forgive her. You would never forgive her, and it would break her. 

Your hand falls to Max’s knee. The warmth from your palm combats the ice in her veins. You’re looking at her as if she’s worth something. As if she didn’t wish for her brother’s death. As if she hadn’t sent a grieving father into a spiral, a desperate mother into a trailer park. But Max allows your touch, so you try to get through to her again.

“You know, I was actually talking to Ms. Kelly a few weeks ago. The school’s guidance counselor.” She had met with you to discuss your grades and college options. When she had seen how you picked your nails until they bled, she suggested seeing her every few weeks. Alleviate some of your never ending stress. You had denied, uncomfortable with the idea. But maybe she could help Max. “She seemed nice enough. I’m sure she would be open to talking with you.”

“I don’t want to see some shrink.”

“Hey, I want to work with kids your age someday. Don’t call future me a shrink.” You poke Max’s leg playfully, and the corners of her mouth twitch. She doesn’t want you to see that it’s working. “C’mon. Have at least one meeting with her. When winter break ends, all I ask is that you try. For me and Lucas. We’re your favorites, after all.”

“If I agree, will it get you to shut up?”

You’re fine with this. It isn’t ideal, you aren’t sure Max will even actually try to open up to Ms. Kelly, but it’s a start. For too long now you’ve stayed silent, allowing Max to grieve on her own. Grief is hard, it takes and it takes and it takes. Yet it’s been almost six months and you’re not sure how much left grief can take from Max. “I think I can be okay with that.”

You’ll take whatever you can get. You’re worried. You got too caught up in your own life, you had gotten lost in your own haze of grief and anxiety. Missing Jonathan, grappling with change and growing up as you applied to college. You weren’t there for Max like you should’ve been.

But you’ll fix this. You always fix things. It’s what you do. It’s what you have to do. It’s how you love; you take care of those around you.

And who are you if you can’t?

–

Jonathan calls you high for the first time in late January. 

Though he doesn’t tell you that he’s high, you know. His words are slurred, slowed, incomprehensible. It’s late in California, even later in Indiana, and the stark feeling of guilt slices into your ribcage the same way the Demodog’s claw did. The feeling cuts deep into your skin, nicks your bone. 

“Jonathan?” You hope your voice brings him back to you. You try to cut through the smoke that fills his mind, that leaves him stumbling over his words. “Bee, can you hear me?”

“‘M here.” Jonathan sniffs, smacks his lips, yawns. “Where’re you? Can’t find you, bug.”

You close your eyes. He’s looking for you, and you aren’t with him. “I’m in Hawkins.”

“Thas’ far.”

“Yeah,” you choke out a laugh. It constricts in your vocal chords, but you can’t let Jonathan know how much it hurts to hear him so disoriented. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. California sucks.” He hiccups, you’re surprised he’s managed to call you tonight. Even in his drugged up state, he still somehow remembered to call. “Don’t think Nance will like it.”

He’s referring to the spring break trip. Nancy told you about it earlier today, how she and Mike will spend the week in California to see Jonathan and El. She had been a bit hesitant to tell you, afraid you’d be upset for not being invited, but you reassured her that it was okay. 

You’ve had a road trip planned with Jonathan ever since you were fifteen. The moment the two of you graduate, you’ll drive all across the country for one final adventure before college. 

Nancy can have spring. Summer will be yours. 

“She’ll love California because you’re there.” She talked about the trip nonstop today. Her glow had come back, momentarily, her eyes alight. She truly loves Jonathan, she misses him even more than you do. 

“Only disappoint her.”

“What do you mean?” You’re not sure where this is coming from. You know Jonathan is high, that his thoughts may not be coherent, but he sounds distressed about Nancy. You thought things had been good between them. They were planning a future together. 

“Is’ hard, with her.” Jonathan manages to get out, but his speech is becoming harder and harder to understand.

You frown. “What’s hard, bee?”

The line disconnects. Jonathan doesn’t bring the conversation up again, the next time you call. You don’t ask him what he meant. You don’t think you want to know. There had been something deeper behind his words.

Will calls you a few days later in tears. The kids are meaner in California than they are in Hawkins. They tease El, make her life hell, and he’s upset that he can’t do anything to stop it. He cries to you, his tears soak your face through the landline, and the guilt creeps back in. 

It will never truly leave.

You do your best to console him, offer him advice, but that’s all you can do. All you have are your words. Will and El are hours away, hundreds of miles separate them from you. It's nauseating, feeling so useless. For as long as you’ve known Will, you’ve always been able to protect him. To help him, dry his eyes.

You’ve always been there for your boys, for Jonathan and Will. For El. But you can’t get to them, they’re too far away, and it kills you. You’re sixteen again, trapped in Jonathan’s car and frantically trying to keep yourself together as everything around you falls apart. 

Steve becomes your lifeline. 

He always answers when you call. Every time Jonathan, high and lonely, hangs up your conversations, you call Steve. He answers, he hears the exhaustion in your voice, and he always sneaks in through your window later that night. He knows it’s the only way you’re able to sleep these days.

He sings to you when you wake up from a nightmare. They’ve become about Max, losing her. She’s only met with Ms. Kelly a few times, but you can tell that she already wants to stop. That you’re pushing her too far, pushing her away from you and everyone else. 

Steve takes you for drives when you get blisters from pacing your room, anxiously waiting for your college decision letters to come in. Soon your entire life will be decided for you by one single piece of paper. 

Two weeks before spring break, Jonathan calls you. He’s sober.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve spoken to him sober. The thought alone depresses you, makes you yearn for childhood again.

“I think Nancy wants me to come to Hawkins,” he tells you. “Would you… would you like that?”

More than anything.

You press the phone against your ear and imagine that it’s Jonathan’s hand instead. Your skin hasn’t forgotten how his felt against it. “Of course I want you to come to Hawkins, bee.” But it can’t be that easy, you know nothing ever comes easily. “Can you afford it, though? I–I mean, God. I miss you, you know that, but I know it’s been hard for your family these last few years.”

Jonathan’s head falls back against the wall behind him. You always understand. He hates it, sometimes. “It’s worth looking into if it means I get to see you and Nance.”

There’s an air of authority in Jonathan’s voice, as if he truly believes what he’s saying, and it surprises you. He’s taking initiative after months of floating away. Hope sparks within you, the cold hand of dread lessens its grip around your neck. 

“Well, I can’t argue with that logic.” You say. Jonathan laughs, you’ve missed the sound. It’s been so long since you last heard it. 

Conversation drifts after that. You tell him about the latest Spider-Man arc you’re reading, he inserts his own opinions, and it’s lovely. You haven’t had Jonathan like this in months, all to yourself, his smile aligned with yours. Sober, steady. 

The phone call with Jonathan reminds you of all the good that is still yet to come. 

College decision letters arrive next week. Your best friend might be visiting for spring break. Your boyfriend has planned a picnic for your anniversary tomorrow. You have your first meeting with Ms. Kelly the following day. It was your idea, figuring it was only fair that you see her since Max has agreed to keep going. 

And Joyce made you promise that you’d live your own life. You’re trying to get better, you really are. 

It just takes time. 

-

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[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

We meet again | In-ho x Fem!Reader | Ending

Summary: It was only one night for fun, you never thought you would see him again. Even less in a place like this one.

P1 P2 P3 P4

Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Canon violence - Pregnant!Reader - Non canon background for In-ho - Use of (Y/N) - Angst - Protective!In-ho - Medical inaccuracy - grammar mistakes - NON CANON EVENTS - Wrote before S3 so no idea how things will play. This can be really OOC - Would add more things but I would Spoil the ending -

You had no idea where you were at first. A light, then a flash of a person, multiple voices talking all at the same time. And the repeated sound of a machine.

A hospital? That was your first idea.

But what about the island ? The games ? Was all a nightmare your mind had conjured ? And what about your baby ?

Panic went throw your body, muscles screaming from your sudden move. You felt something in your nose, oxygen ? And your arms full of differents vials.

Soon a lot of nurses and a doctor came into the room. Trying to calm you down. Trying to settle you down and prevent you from ripping off the different medicines they were giving you.

But you did not respond. A sudden move made you hit someone, you had no idea who that person was.

Next thing you knew dark was once again taking over you.

The second time you woke up was different. Somehow your body felt lighter, like something was missing.

Wait.

Why was there a big pain in your stomach? Why did you feel less heavy ?

With trembling hands you moved the small hospital blanket and saw with horror a big scar on your belly.

The scream you left alerted the medical staff once again.

"Miss miss!! Please calm down, breath" A nurse said besides you

"My baby...you took my baby!! You screamed at her tears falling down your face. "Where is it? What did you do!!" The desesperation in your voice was clear, raw emotions filled you as you took a look around the white room.

"Miss listen please. You have been asleep for three weeks, your baby its fine I promise" The nurse said taking your hand "We had to remove it...your baby its a premature one but its fine"

"I want to see it, please"

The nurse gave a small nod signaling another nurse to go and find your baby.

"Take deep breaths, the doctor will come to check on how you are doing"

"I just want my baby, please I just want to see if its-"

The nurse returned a white blanket around a small body. Your body felt light like all was a dream. As she approached you and let you take a look. Your baby, sleeping without a care in the world.

"You can hold him Dear"

Him, it was a boy. A beautiful boy.

Carefully she passed the baby to you, you took it looking at him with so much love and care. You could not believe how something so fragile and cute could be here right now.

"Hello Little One...im your mom. Im sorry I was not here when you arrived"

The baby opened his eyes revealing deep dark ones, it did not scream at first reaching to touch your face with his small hand.

"Babys knows their mother" The nurse said smiling as she saw how you rocked the small kid a tiny smile on your tired face, and a few tears in your eyes.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Turns out someone from the staff found you outside unconscious and they took you into emergency care fast. Your vital signs were stable but they were still worry over your baby and the low amount of iron you had.

The first week you were in intensive care, the doctors and nurses checking you every hour, making sure you were progressing for good and so was your baby.

However, things got complicated and they had to proceed with a emergency cesarean when some tests came out wrong. You and your baby were in vital danger and that was the only option.

Your baby was born premature, being 2.5 kg low birth weight, it was took to special care since you were still unconscious and recovering from the surgery.

Luckly your baby started to gain weight as soon as they started to feed him with special formulas, it soon got good color and all his still under developing organs were alright.

It was safe to say that by the time you woke up your baby was healthier than you. Did you care ? Of course not, you would give your life for him.

Breast feeding him was easier than what you did initially thought. And everybody was happy that your baby was so eager to be natural feed. It was important for mother-baby bond.

Days went on, the Hospital where you were was close to the coast town you once lived. You were confused and wondered how you had ended up there. Last thing you did remember was eating food under the watchful eye of a guard then nothing.

You were suprised by the visit of your Friends from town, someone from the hospital had contacted them since you had no parents alive and your brother was not responding.

Even the bar owner from where you met In-ho came by, to scold you like a old father. How could you ran away ? They were a small yet powerfull town and they protected their people.

During these days lots of things happened.

You discovered that your debt was all paid, your brother was found in another country and was now paying for what he had done. You were not interested in the details of that.

Your original house, the one from the town was still under your name and clean as if someone had been keeping check on it. But no one knew a thing.

Once you were free from the hospital and at home with your baby you discovered another thing.

When going out to buy groceries and baby food, you checked your account only to see so many zeros...hell you almost fainted there.

But you did not win, then why ? Was this their way of compensation ? You were repulsed by it and for months did not touch the money till it became impossible to keep going without doing it. You could not work yet and the others insisted on you resting.

Life was once again slow...like all of what had happened was a nightmare. Something you had made.

Did you go to the police? No. You could only imagine what they would think if you ever decided to talk, and you wanted to keep your baby safe.

Oh your dear son...it had his father's eyes and your hair. A perfect and beautiful mix. You would cry at night thinking on him. In-ho....who could not met his son, and your son that would grow up without a father.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Jun-ho stood besides In-ho part of him wanting nothing but to kill his own brother and other to...well he was still deciding on the first one.

"You shot me! Without a dam care" Jun-ho said to his older brother who just moved his gloved hand like it was nothing.

"You left me no choice, it was to keep you safe..."

"Thanks to you I lost my job because no one would fucking believe me"

"And you blame them?" In-ho asked "You are still a naive kid, but you are my family and my blood..."

"Why let Seong Gi-hun live? Why me ? You killed the others, the team..."

"Because, there is a small balance I have to keep" In-ho said voice cold and eyes sharp "I cant stop this. Its a never ending circle, its not up to me or you. Or anyone, it goes far beyond that"

"I still dont understand...what makes you think I wont-"

"I have a favor to ask you" In-ho cut his younger brother off, who gave back an incredulous look.

"Really? After everything, you have the face to ask me for a favor?"

"You have a nephew" In-ho started pulling out the pic of a woman and a small kid, a few months old. "I met her once, then here again" He smiled saddly at the memory "Such a cruel fate...but I loved her, and him.." His finger passed over the photo.

"...You must be kidding me" Jun-ho said letting himself fall besides him in the dark couch "You- Do you realize how fucked up this is ? And what ? What do you want me to do ?"

"Check them for me. She does not have a family, and im dead to her-"

"Oh so you lied" Typical of him.

"Yes, it was for the best. Thats why im asking you to check on them. To be there for them. I dont care if you hate me but they, they deserve a family and I cant give them that"

Jun-ho pressed his lips seeing his older brother show a vulnerable side that was so...odd. So strange to see.

"Let me see them" Jun-ho asked looking at the pic, well various pics. You were smiling in most and the little baby looked healthy. He could not help but feel a jump at his heart, this kid was his nephew....even if his brother was far from perfect...He was right. Not you or the kid had the fault. And if he was the only family you two could get then he would do it.

"Fine, but im not doing it for you but them" Jun-ho accepted giving the pics back.

In-ho nodded taking a black envelope and passing it to him.

"What is this?" Jun-ho asked taking a peak inside.

"Your new name for when you met them, I never told her my real name. And some background so you dont go there without a reason. It would be too strange and last thing I want its to scare her"

Jun-ho took a deep breath opening the envelope getting ready to read and memorize his new identity.

Things you do for family.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

One year passed. Your life was back to normal. Your dear son grow up everyday,  triying to give him everytning you could and be the best mom.

Reading different books and being helped by the older woman from town was like heaven. You could carry your life on your own.

Your Friends loved your son, the amount of gifts he would get each time they visited...you had to tell them to stop it.

There was the money too. While you could live your life without having to work you decided you wanted to do something with it. And after long talks and hours you finally decided what to do.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

One morning you were just there, the TV on with a kids program as you studied some pappers. A knock at your door took you by suprise.

Slowly you got up and went there, still unsure but the person behind the door knocked again this time faster.

Jun-ho stood outside your door. Anxiety and fear on him. He had read your file and his background multiple times. But the idea of finally meeting you and his nephew....scared him a lot.

He knew he was not his older brother...knew he would not fill a place he had left. But he also wanted to be there for you and his newphew, after seeing how much you loved the kid...

The door opened and a heavy silence fell between both of you.

Jun-ho saw it all, the suprise on your face and the look of small recognition  over him. Even if him and his brother were not twins they did share genetics and by what he had read about you, you were not stupid, he was sure you were putting together the pieces by now.

"Hello" He paused not sure how to continue, even if he had prepared himself for this moment for so long.

"Hello...may I know who you are ?" You asked already blocking the door. Your eyes went over his face, taking the small details as your brain slowly connected him with In-ho.

Could it be ?

"Im Oh Jun-ho...In-ho's younger brother" He said the fake name with centrain disgust but hide it behind a smile.

"Younger brother ? He...he never said he had a younger brother..."

Of course not. He shot me that fucker-

"He is-was" he corrected himself "he was a reserved man", He went missing some time ago, the leads I followed made me come here. And some people said they saw you with him one night...

Well that was a lie. He knew that because thats whats he was suppose to say to you.

"Are you...still looking for him?" You asked your voice barely a whisper. Jun-ho could see your shoulder tremble, he knew you thought his brother was long dead, and it broke him to have to lie to you.

If you could only see how much you are hurting her

"Yes, thats why im here. Can I come in? I promise it wont take long. You can ask someone to come if you are not comfortable with a stranger in your home" Jun-ho added knowing you most likely would be a bit admant on letting him in.

And you were. Ever since you came back and saw that account with so much money,  you were always checking over your shoulder. A fresh set of alarms were installed at your house, and you made sure to double check everything. 

It was safe to say you were ready to kill for your son. And even if this stranger had some resemblance with In-ho...

"Wait here" You told him closing the door and texting your friend who worked at the local coffee from town explaining everything

His responde came quick, telling you to bring the stranger there and that he would keep an eye on him and in your son.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"Alright lets go" Jun-ho hear you said, he turned around his heart beating fast at the sight of his nephew and In-ho's son.

Genetics did not lie. It did look like him.

"Right....were to?" He asked trying not to eye his newphew too much to not make you suspect that he knew more than what he was telling you.

"There is a coffee shop near, we can talk there"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Jun-ho knew when he was being watched. Years in the police and as a detective have sharpered his senses. Of course he knew the friendly barista was giving him the side eye since you two ordered a drink and took a seat on a table a bit away from the rest.

He also took note of the guy who came up with your drinks. A guy tall, taller than him and fairy muscular, he had give you a polite smile and almost a dead look towards him.

So far he did not feel very welcome. But it was fair. After all you were being lied and he was helping with that lie, so this was the smallest price he should pay.

If anything part of him should be greateful you had someone to look after you. He did read in your file about your parents death and the piece of trash your brother was.

Hell, he hoped he could be a better uncle than him.

"What did you want to talk about?" Your soft voice broke him from his thoughts

He blinked back and nodded, composing himself.

"As I said" He started slowly "Im In-ho's younger brother. He went missing a few months back...and I started to look for him"

Well months was a lie. Years by now.

"I used to be a detective in Seoul, I tried to find him and followed different leads but nothing would came out from it" He made a pause to take a sip from his coffee "Then I found out he was...hiding"

"Hiding?" You asked a bit scared.

So when we met he was hiding? Thats why he left so quickly?

"Yeah" Jun-ho felt his skin crawl back at the lies "I found out he was in debt and was going from city to towns. To avoid them. This was the last place he was seen..."

Jun-ho let the lie set on you. He could see your brain working, maybe trying to pull out dates and reasons too.

"Im sorry I was not faster" Jun-ho continued "I really wanted to find him, I wanted to bring him home..."

He saw you nod and a few tears forming on your eyes.

Jun-ho went to his pocket and pulled out a very old picture. A picture of a different time. When things were more simple.

"This is me and him" Jun-ho showed you "He was a fellow detective, I actually joyned the force becaue of him" Jun-ho said smiling at that time when he was inspired by In-ho.

You took the pic traseing on the younger features of In-ho, he looked happier, less tired and stressed than what you did remember from the games...

"And...you think he-"

The cries from your boy stopped you. You took him out from the stroller to try and shh him down. The little bundle of joy was just boring for what it seems. You checked the time and saw that his feed time was still for another hour.

"Sorry to ask but...that baby" Jun-ho started not really knowing how to proceed.

He saw you pull the baby closer to you, like you were trying to protect him from the world. Or maybe from him.

"I-" You took a deep breath calming yourself and your baby down. "Its true what you know. I did met your brother. We met one night at the local bar. The one near the docks. We passed the night together but he was gone when I woke up" The words died in your throat as you remember all the times in the game and the soft moment during Migle. When he was able to touch your belly and talk to his kid. "I discovered I was pregnant, but for personal reasons I left this town for some time"

Jun-ho did know. It was scary how much he knew but he faked that this was all new.

"My brother left a debt on me. I had to work in Seoul to pay it off. I was then able to return here. If In-ho was here during that time...I cant known. I was not here. Im sorry I cant help you more"

Like In-ho had told him, you would most likely not mention the games, the money you got, or the fact that you believed he was dead.

Jun-ho nodded and a few minutes of silence passed between both of you. Each one with their own thoguhts.

"I never got your name Miss.."

"Oh...its (Y/N)" You responded being too caught up to even think of that.

"And your son's name..."

"In-ho" Jun-ho felt his heart fell "I named him after his father"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Even if the start of the conversation was tense and full of doubts on your side. The more you talked to Jun-ho the more relaxed you got. He showed you some more pics of him and In-ho and even shared some stories from when they were young.

It helped you to imagine how he was and how he could have been if he was outside with you and your son.

"I dont want to interrump in your life" Jun-ho had said as both walked together to your home "But I cant ignore the fact that I have a nephew...and if you let me I would love to be part of his life. I dont want to replace In-ho, I know I could never do it"

You looked at Jun-ho's eyes for any indication of a lie or ulterior motive. But found nothing, just a Man, a brother lost in the look for his older brother and now finding out that he was an uncle.

At the end your kid was an extension of In-ho, and you could not blame Jun-ho for wanting to be part of his life. If anything it was quiet cute and a noble wish.

"I...I dont mind if you are part of his life. Well our lives. I cant say im kind on going to Seoul but-"

"No, thats fine. I can work with what you are more comfortable" Jun-ho said remembering the strong emphasis his brother had made on pulling your needs first.

"Thanks, its a city that just brings back bad memories..."

Jun-ho nodded once more. He took out his phone and offered it to you.

"You can put your number..or I can give you mine. You dont have to save it just..."

"I will give you mine" You softly said pulling your contact information and giving it back. "Do you plan on staying more days at the town?"

Honestly? No. Jun-ho was already planning on leaving to rest in the next town and then go back to his brother.

But...a few more days could not hurt...

"Yes..I think I have a reason to stay for a few more days" He said smiling at the baby.

You smiled back then after giving it a long thought asked "Would you like to hold him?"

"Really?" Jun-ho asked being taken back so much he did take a step back and felt dumb for it.

"You are his uncle...I trust you will not let him fall" You said getting your kid who blinked at you giving a soft smile

"Never. I would never hurt him" Jun-ho said with maybe more force than needed.

When he felt the baby in his arms he felt so much. The little thing looked at him, curious on who this stranger was.

His little hands went to touch his shirt and Jun-ho could not help but smile. It did resemble the old baby pics his mother had of him and In-ho and in a way it felt wrong that he was holding his son before him.

But at the same time. He felt a deep connection, call it genetics, call it love, whatever it was Jun-ho did swear there that no harm would ever come to this kid. Or you, even if you deserved more than a lie. He would make sure you and your kid were safe.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

4 Years Later

Laughted filled the kid's park as some ran playing tag and others pulled their friends in the hammocks.

Your son, now five years old was lost in a game of tag with other kids from his school. Part of his hair flew in the air under his hat as he smiled when he was tagged and went for another kid.

You watched it from a near bench. Your work being flexible in hours was a plus when it came down on passing time with him.

"Mom" His sweet voice called as he came running with a bit of sweat. The summer was soon coming and the heat was just staring.

"Yes In-ho?" You asked adjusting the hat on his head. After years you have been able to say the name without it hurting that much to the point of hold back tears.

"Yejun and the others wants to go to the near store to get ice cream, pelease mom can I go too?"

You knew he was begging to go alone with his friends. Even if you knew everybody at the Town and Jun-ho had been a presece on his life and yours that made you feel less lonely and safe...you still got worried over him. Like any mother would.

"Alright" You said giving him a bit of money "But stay close to Yejun, you think you can do that little one?" You asked smiling at him.

"Mom! Im five now" He said taking the momeny and blushing "But yes! I wont separate from them"

"Thats my son" You said seeing him go off with Yejun and the others.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

A few months back on a different location:

In-ho stood over a big map, the island map and the new games that would be incorporated. It demanded new structures and more space. But after the last ones he needed to make this ones better.

The room was filled with soft jazz as he looked over the map and then at the games, a headache forming.

"Too much work for you?"

A voice he thought he would never hear in a situation like this one asked mocking him.

In-ho did not turn when Gi-hun entered the room, wearing clothes that resembled his own. The shaped mask removed.

"Its thanks to you that I have to make this games better" In-ho bite back getting a laught from Gi-hun

"The VIPs did not like seeing two lovers die last game and lose to me?" He asked getting a sound from In-ho

"Of course not. They are greedy pigs we both know it" In-ho responded turning back to look at Gi-hun.

If anyone would have told him that ex-player 456 and him would work together at the island In-ho would have actually laughted because the idea was absurd.

But here they were now. Usually Gi-hun was more on the security part. Kind of funny since he once wanted to end the games. But he also took a big part on picking up who the different recruiters have to to for.

"What do you want?" In-ho finally asked knowing Gi-hun would prefer to be on his part of the island than with him.

"I was just passing and seeing the calendar" Gi-hun said taking a seat. "The deadlines are close and your progress has been...rather slow"

"Im working on it. I will have it" In-ho said giving him his back again.

"I know its because of that woman and your kid. The kid's birthday is coming right?"

"Careful with what you say" In-ho said now fully turned killing Gi-hun with a simple look. But Gi-hun was not affected by it.

"You know, I did suspect you two were closer than what you two let out during the games...but to think you were the father.."

"Get to the point Seong" In-ho grunted

"I have a daughter too. She its in America as you know. Everyday I ask myself If i did the right thing getting back here and not going to her..."

In-ho said nothing already feeling where this conversation was going.

"But I change. I was never a good father. I tried but it was never enough. And after the first games..I was a mess. I could not see myself raising her. No after what I have done"

The jazz music played for a few seconds before he continued

"But its different with you. (Y/N) met you after you did win and while you were the only one moving this games. You two managed to connect and even create a life"

"She thinks im dead. And its better that way" In-ho said trying to even convince himself

"Dont you miss her ? Or your kid ? Dont you ever think on going to them ?"

Of course he did. Multiple times. The first two years were hell for him. Getting updates from Jun-ho about you and his son. His son who you have named after him. He did play the idea of going to you, maybe telling you everytning...but he was also scared. How would you react to it ? Knowing that after everything he was alive and on top of that he was the one behind the games ? No. He could never do that to you.

"Of course I miss her, I miss both of them. But seeing me would only make her miserable. She has my brother to help her out and my son has a great uncle. They dont need me"

Even it hurted so much to say it.

"Im just saying, I believe you have a chance. Your situation with her may be....complicated but if there is love then there is a chance"

"Since when did you become a psycologist?"

Gi-hun just laughted but without meaning it. Standing up he acomodated his clothes back.

"Im just saying, you may live in misery the rest of your life if you dont do something"

"Get out" Were the only words Gi-hun got in response.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Present time:

In-ho ran behind Yejun and the others, ice cream in hand.

"Cmon run faster!!" Yejun called over his shoulder and In-ho tried to without letting his ice cream fell.

A hard air breeze hit him on the face pulling out his hat.

In-ho watched it flew back, running towards it. It was a hat Jun-ho his uncle had got him. He could not afford to lose it.

Plus you would be pissed and would remove his game rights for a week at least.

Just as he was about to pick it up another hand a bigger one did.

Both In-ho's looked at each other. One not knowing the connection they did share and the other with the hear up in his throat at the sight.

Yes He had seen the pictures, but there was nothing that could compare on seeing his son on the flesh. He had his eyes and your hair. Being a perfect combination of both of you.

"Sir...thats my hat. Can I please get it back?" In-ho asked keeping a safe distance from the strange man.

In-ho smiled nodding offering the hat back, his son eyed him for a moment then took it making sure it was well put on his head.

"You should not lose it. Its a good hat" In-ho said getting a look from his son who gave a bow back.

"No I wont, thanks Sir!" He responded bowing

"I dont think your mother would like you losing it"

He saw his son's eye get bigger and he almost laughted at it.

"N-no, she would hate me for that"

"Hate its a strong world. She would be angry but im sure it would pass" In-ho said now a full smile on his face.

"...Yeah but she wont let me play videogames if I lost it" He hear his son whisper. He also took notice of the ice cream now starting to melt. He pulled out his wallet and handed some wones to his son who did not move.

"Your ice cream is melting, this is so you can buy a new one"

"Mom says to never accept things from strangers that everything has a price" His son responded making him smile even more. 

"Your mom its very intelligent, if I tell you my name would you accept it?"

He saw his son brain go wild but at the end nodding.

"Im Oh In-ho"

If his son's eyes could get any bigger then these would be out of his face. His mouth open in suprise.

"You....you and me- we"

"IN-HO!! IN-HO DEAR WHERE ARE YOU" The desesperated screams from you cut his son's words off.

"MOM!!" In-ho called turning back seeing you going towards him with Yejun and Yejun's mom behind.

"What did I tell you about staying with Yejun?" You asked checking him for any injury "What happened ? Why did you got separated?"

"A strong wind took my hat and then this man returned it and even offered me money to buy ice cream since mine is melting-"

"Men? What men?" Yejun's mom asked looking around

"What? He was right...there" In-ho said to a now empy space with only some wones on the floor now.

"We should go back. I will tell the police to check this zone" Yejun's mom adviced you taking his own kid's hand.

"Yes, lets go In-ho"

"But mom! The Man and I had the same name!!" In-ho said all too happy to notice the look on your face.

"What..."

"Yes!! He told me his name was In-ho too, and that since I knew his name I could take the money"

For a few seconds you did not move or say a thing. It could...no it could not be. Maybe it was another men with the same name.

"Lets go In-ho. I will get you another ice cream on the way home"

"But mom the money..."

"Leave it, and you are grounded"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

For your son that day was lost in his memory like many others. For you it was a day that made you get hope back. Hope that maybe just maybe In-ho was alive and because of the danger he was not showing himself.

But even if that was the case. Time passed, and never a thing like that one happened again.

Jun-ho had listened to your rant that same night on the phone trying to calm you down while thinking that he would kill his brother. He came next day as a suprise visit for In-ho but it was to make sure you were alright.

And so, four more years passed. Your son now ten years old full of life. A top student, a kind soul.

He was now able to go on his own between home, school and your flower shop.

Yes, after lots of goes and backs you managed to start your own flower shop. It did take time but you were glad you did. It was the only one in the town and was near your house and In-ho's school.

Jun-ho had said it was fitting for you. He was there during all the tedious process till the big opening.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"I will be going for his birthday" Jun-ho said to his brother in his aparment in Seoul.

"He will be ten by now" In-ho whispered drinking some beer Jun-ho had.

"Yes, (Y/N) planned a big party for him" Jun-ho said smiling at your different ideas

"She is a good mother" In-ho said smiling looking at the empy glass

"...You should go"

"Werent you the one who did threat me last time?  If I did show myself again ?" In-ho asked

"Thats because you ran away like a coward. (Y/N) was paranoid for days and her mental state got bad"

"Yes, thats why its better to go on like this"

"Really? Is this what you want? See your kid grow up from the shadows?"

"Jun-ho.."

"Listen I know, what you do is dangerous and you lied to her. But now its Gi-hun who does most of the things at the Island. You are there more like a face of sorts"

"Jun-ho I lied to her. She thinks im dead"

"I know. But so did I. I lied to her to help you. But I know her, I have know her for the past nine years. She still loves you, and I dare to say she still waits for you to return to her"

"She is good, but she wont ever forgive me.."

"Thats were you are wrong. Will she be angry? Yes, and with reason but will that anger be bigger than her love for you? No. Trust me on this. That woman...she loves you too much. You dont deserve her"

"I know"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"Uncle!!" The voice of In-ho sounded between the laught and other kid's voices.

Jun-ho smiled, seeing how tall he had got. Each day he looked more and more like a perfect mix of you and his brother.

"Hello Sport" Jun-ho called back messing up his hair.

"Stop it! Mom does this enough" In-ho said separating and re doing his hair.

"Does that mean you dont want your birthday gift  ? Directly from Seoul ?" Jun-ho asked crossing his arms and smiling when he saw the quick change in expression.

"No-no!! Of course I want it" In-ho said taking Jun-ho's shirt and seeing behind his back. "Where is it?!!"

"Wait wait, your birthday its tomorrow" Jun-ho said pulling him away but still smiling "Why dont we get some ice coffee for your mom and some ice chocolate for you?" He asked and his newphew nodded.

"Yes! Mom said there is someone getting married next town and they left her tons of work" In-ho started to say walking towards the coffee store knowing the route by memory with Jun-ho besides him.

"Really? And she can handle it alone?"

"She hired someone! Not sure who he is, does not talk much. Dark hair and kind of tall"

Probably someone In-ho himself sent Jun-ho tought rolling his eyes

"Uncle?"

"Mhm?"

"Are you upset?" In-ho inoccent voice asked "I- mom says we need to look out for these who care about and I dont want you to feel bad" In-ho said looking to the side.

Jun-ho smiled, his heart doing jumps at his sweet nephew. It did seem that he had got your caring personality.

"Im fine Sports. Dont worry, lets get you that ice chocolate and a drink for your mom"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

This is a bad idea. In-ho's mind said as he walked the streets down where your store was. You should go back, nothing good will come from this.

In-ho stood just a few meters away from your shop. He sweet alluring smell of the different flowers hitting him.

He saw the guy he had sent to help you (not that you needed to know that) get out with lots of boxes and putting them inside a ban. He drove off. In-ho knew it.

It was now or never, the last chance.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

You moved around the back of the store. Checking different recipes and dates. The weeding next Town have proved to be a challenge for you. So much you had to hire someone to help you out.

But things were going good. Even if some days your body hurt from moving so much. Or your fingers tremble from making the different flower arrangements.

It was worth at the end, seeing the happiness in others. It gave you a sense of...comfort, and part of you liked to think that In-ho watched over you. Specially when you tended the greenhouse right next to the store. The natural smell and the connection with the dirt...it felt good. It grounded yourself.

You would close your eyes and imagine that he was standing there. Just watching you work with a rare yet soft smile, one that was saved only for you.

"Mom? What are your favorite flowers?" You kid had asked when he was seven years old while you two planted some seeds.

"My favorite flower...and from where comes the question?" You asked back passing him something to clean himself up.

"Well...I like games. And animals, but I have a favorite one...and you like flowers"

"So I must have a favorite one then?" You smiled and he nodded

"Well....I think my favorite ones are Iris..and do you know why?"

He said no and you explained.

"There is a thing, called Language of Flowers, and in them Iris means Hope. I believe its a good thing to have"

"But we studied languages at class and that was never mentioned!" In-ho said somehow offended by the fact that such a thing was never teached to him.

"Oh my dear, I can teach you if you want" In-ho agreed almost getting up to go for some papper and pens but you stopped him.

"Shower first"

"But mom-" A single look from you made him stop "Alright"

A few weeks passed, while you were at the store In-ho entered running, almost knocking a few flowers.

"In-ho! No running inside the store" You said getting up and going towards him but he ignored you pulling out his notebook.

"A chrysanthemum Mom!! You are a chrysanthemum" In-ho said signaling a drawing of the flower then an arrow and a silly draw of you.

"What..."

"Because, chrysanthemum means eternal beauty !! And mom, you are beautiful and eternal" In-ho said showing you the meaning under the draw.

You cried hugging him.

"Mom? Are you...crying?"

"No Son...im just happy. Im just really happy.

The sound of the door opening indicating that a new costumer have arrived made you came back. Not hearing your son or Jun-ho's voice let you knew it was not them.

"One moment please!" You said giving the flower arrangement its final details, the white and pastel yellows giving the cala flowers its final touch.

You left it there and went to the front moving your hair, to try and look less of a mess.

"Welcome! How can I help you-"

Your world stopped. The air in your lungs vanished and your vision went from zero to thousand. A few tears forming.

There was no way, you blinked, maybe you were seeing things again.

But no, there he was. In the flesh. Chest raising and falling indicating that he was alive.

Your In-ho, the Man you loved.

"Hello (Y/N)...we meet again"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Notes:

ITS FINALLY HERE!! THE END OF THIS SERIES. Thanks a lot for these who read this since part one and waited till this end. I had a hard personal time but was able to pull it out!! I truly hope you like it.

And if you are reading this after you read this in one go Thanks too!!

This was my first series. I never really planned on making one. I wanted it to be two parts but I kept adding things. And then the ending got longer as my brain gave my more ideas.

And yes I used flowers for meaning, I google them! So if something is wrong...well sorry.

Questions you may have:

Is this really the ending?

A) YES!! This is the ending. Its happy or sad ? Not even I know, I would call it bittersweet.

Would you ever write more for this?

A) If I do its going to be pieces of them as family but nothing complex.

What was In-ho doing these nine years?

A) Working as the Front Man and being too scared too approach the love of his life. But he kept a close eye on her.

Why is Gi-hun now helping with the games?

A) Easy, because its a fanfic and I wanted that end for him. Besides i feel like it fits him. He is too broken to go back to a normal life.

The guy (Y/N)'s hires is the guard from S2 EP7 ?

A) Well he dies in canon but you can think its him but older!!

Did Jun-ho felt romantic feelings for (Y/N) at some point?

A) Up to you to decide! I dont think (Y/N) would ever move from In-ho so I can assure you. She never slept with Jun-ho or had any interest in him as a romantic partner.

What happened to (Y/N)'s brother?

A) Up to you! But he never shows again in her life and In-ho Jrs does not know about him.

Did my favs survive the games?

A) Again, up to you!!

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Tags:

@maria-trisha @blueyesuguru @imenekiki @victorie767 @futuristicdefendorfart @heyitsmefall

@love-you-louise @fantasylovestoryme @sleepyycatt @nightdark-dreamdark @lindsay00000 @ourlovesarang @smally97 @zigmasstuff @aleemendoz @the-disaster-in-waiting

@ilovequeen978 @sc4rrc @sylviavf @l4venderia @blueeclipsepaperstudent @annasnape7 @llawlietluv @florgenegrastuff @luv1ze @jspidey5

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[darinawrites]

—Protective touches—

Pairing: Sang woo x implied f!reader

Summary: you were so sure this was it. You lost your group, and with your weak figure you were a target to Deok su. Closing your eyes, accepting the embrace of death, a coarse hand pulled you out of the pit of darkness. (Sang woo saving you in lights out).

Content: fluff/comfort, Sang woo trying to cover up his feelings, weak reader, violence, treating wounds

A/n: the 5 Sang woo fans are going to love this (I'm apart of the 5 fans). But, seriously, I'm going to go insane if there aren't more fics of him. This was written on the verge of passing out from tiredness btw, so it might have a bit of ooc moments/rushed writing. Not my proudest work 😓 (my titles are getting worse each time too, im so screwed).

Word count: 1.5k

･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

You couldn't wait to finally lay down and relax after this torment of a day. You barely got out of the game 'Dalgona', almost running out of time, the adrenaline still not backed down from then.

Your heartbeat softly beating, yet loud enough to be audible. Your usual mellow mood gone, replaced with a small frown and eyes with anxiety whirling inside. A lugubrious sight for anyone that glances at you.

As you let your head hit the hard mattress, you slowly regretted parting with your group. Initially wanting to have a moment to rest the aching in your body, now accidentally leaving them as the woman's voice rang trough the speaker, only having a few more minutes.

The uneasy feeling in your stomach couldn't stop rumbling, the tension thick between the players. But you shouldn't worry so much, you were an amiable person whom most people enjoyed being around.

Yet, at the same time, you were a target to some. Your scrupulous personality making you talk when not needed. Annoying players, whom were 3x bigger than you, with your words. Worrying that your gestures might lead to your death.

You were much too tired to think any further though, the exhaustion in your body overflowing your needs. Deciding you were overreacting, you let the softness of the pillow now take control of your thoughts, letting your overthinking ideas fly away. Forgetting yourself in the bliss of ignorance, your eyelids growing heavier by the moment, the lights now out as the time ended. It was a nice moment, one you looked forward to every day.

This time, the moment was ephemeral. A scream immediately picking up the weights of your eyelids. You frantically searched where the sound came from, your eyes hurting from the sudden flash of lights.

It all happened so fast, sleepiness vanishing immediately as more screams abrupted, people acting ferociously beneath you. Your seemingly overreaction now becoming a reality.

Heart beating faster now, your breaths quicken. Even from the top bunk you could see the glass shatters and blood on the floor, keeping to yourself as you hoped the nightmare wouldn't reach you.

The tension of players now acting opon it, from the corner of your eye you could see your group get in trouble too, transfixed on the blood that came out of them as they got cornered. Shaky limbs now clutching the blanket, forcing your gaze away from the sight, an urge to vomit coming over you.

Shifting around your bed, trying to quietly find a safe place. You were quickly interrupted by your weight seemingly getting lighter. Gushes of wind swirling around you as your mind tried to comprehend the situation.

Those fuckers flipped the bunk.

Your voice was stifled, not even a scream allowed as you hit the floor. The impact making you whine, your left leg completely destroyed as it let out a loud 'crack'.

Groaning, as you slowly picked yourself up. Luckily, none of the players noticed you, yet. Leaning against the wall to steady yourself, limping slightly. Small whines flooding your throat, the pain now setting in once the adrenaline died down. This all felt so surreal, must people really be this desperate?

Your thoughts couldn't go any further than that, your eyesight landing on player 101. Oh gosh, a guy that wasn't particularly fond of you. You tried your best to run, anywhere. But you couldn't. The man was much bigger than you, and once you saw a shiny object in his hands, you just gave up.

His smirk only fueled your hate and fear, eyeing your injured form.

"Where are all your words now? Shaking so much, how pathetic." Its like he was playing with you, his voice being the last words you heard to show off, your weak body just listening and glaring. Wiping off some blood on his face, clutching the knife, you knew he was ready now. Simply closing your eyes, not allowing him to have the pleasure of seeing your eyes fade, you prepared for him to pounce on you.

A 'smack' was heard, yet your body hasn't felt any contact. A groan that wasn't yours echoing in your ear as you noted a tight grip on your arm, quickly pulling away. Even once you opened your eyes, you couldn't tell who was in front of you, your eyes hazy and wet with tears, the flashing lights not helping out either.

The pain was unbearable, uncontrollable whines coming out of your mouth, the small distance that you ran seemed like a marathon. Still panting when you finally came to a halt.

Your eyes a bit clearer now, you could see your surroundings better. A few familiar gazes beside you, and the one whom was your savior you immediately recognized. Sang woo.

Panting as you bent down slightly, the dizziness and pain making your trembling body not stand up properly. A concerned question was asked from the player beside you, your eyes falling on the number '456' on the tracksuit.

"Hey Sang woo, where did you find this girl? She's seriously injured" his question wasn't answered though, an unfortunate sight now staring up at the group that took you.

Deok su and his minions nearing you, a protective hand quickly gripping you as he hurried you behind him, a piece of metal in his other hand, stained with blood. You clinged onto him, letting his back block your view. Small pants and whimpers still in the air as you heard kicks and punches being thrown out, pathetically watching as they fought while you couldn't even move.

Once all of of his minions were seen together, another man emerged from the dark, swinging a huge metal bar that was once screwed into the bed, making them step back. Geez, how strong is that guy.

Both sides glaring at each other as the lights finally came back on. Yet his grip didn't falter, keeping you close to him. Pink guards coming in to shoot the ceiling, everyone flinching back. Your legs shaken as you were forced to let your hands roam the air, nothing to hold on to steady yourself.

Coarse hand immediately gripped your shoulders to help you once the guards let you go. The same hands that pulled you to safety.

Mumbling out a thanks, your voice still silenced from fear as you sat down beside him, player 218.

"Miss, are you okay? Are your injuries bad?" your ears picked up on the same concerned voice, lifting your head to see a man, girl with a smaller frame on the left on him and the other strong friendly guy on the right.

"Broken leg, some bruises. It'll be fine." you give a hushed out response, worry evident in his eyes, but he stayed silent, the few people now sitting down.

The group was surprisingly welcoming and very friendly. Your other group...gone, you stayed with them. Indulging in their conversation, making you forget the throbbing pain. Your focus only on the conversation, yet you still couldn't help to notice the glares Sang woo gave to either your leg or you in general.

Once he finally had a chance to be alone with you, the others gone for a moment, he immediately spoke up.

"You can't just leave that wound unattended." hands pulling off his jacket, your eyes drifting up to meet his.

"I'll be fine, others here are worse and are doing better than me. I'm simply weak" you sighed out, but his eyes didn't budge. You couldn't help notice his impeccable features. Eyes lingering, his hands sliding down to your leg to pick it up.

And when your pants were pulled up enough, the sight was brutal. A big slice down your knee, dried blood and bruising all around it. Picking up his jacket, mumbling out a warning before tying and tightening it around your knee.

"Sang woo.." whining out his name, the pain exploding back, his jacket tight around the wound.

"Keep it on as long as you can." was said once he was done with the task, pants huffing out of your mouth.

He couldn't completely understand why he helped you. He saw your smart tactics in red light green light. The way you got the hardest cookie to cut yet still managed a way to pass. While weak in physical strength, your strategies would help immensely.

Yet that didn't explain his eyes following you constantly, looking out for you. The protective touches, the small smile he let out with every giggle you could manage. His brain choosing to ignore the underlying tenderness his touches gave, emotions under all the strategic thinking.

Even now as you hugged him, properly thanking him for what he did. The slightest hint of a blush warmed his cheeks. Gracelessly letting his hand wrap around your back, returning the favor.

It was obvious what this all meant, but he couldn't let that cloud his mind off of the main point. He couldn't.

[bl00d1nk]

ꜱʟᴀꜱʜᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ; ᵈᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

​🇨​​🇭​​🇦​​🇷​​🇦​​🇨​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇸​: brahms heelshire, patrick bateman, herbert west

​🇼​​🇦​​🇷​​🇳​​🇮​​🇳​​🇬​​🇸​: slashers ofc, brahms lack of hygiene, brahms being possesive, brahms stalking you basically,patrick being a dick, vauge nsfw in patricks, dead people obvi, body snatching, also not read over so if theres any mistakes whoopsies

​🇦​​🇺​​🇹​​🇭​​🇴​​🇷​​🇸​ ​🇳​​🇴​​🇹​​🇪​: first time writing for slashers omds + writing for the first time properly in like a year so teehee also lemme know if you want this for other slashers :PPP also i tried to write this v gn but idk if i acc did so pls gimme suggestions on how to keep everything in my writing inclusive plsss!!! also if ur wondering what "w/" means it just means with im just too lazy to write with teehee

¬𝙱𝚁𝙰𝙷𝙼𝚂 𝙷𝙴𝙴𝙻𝚂𝙷𝙸𝚁𝙴¬

𖦹 stinky

𖦹 i dont mean that in a funny way like this man fucking REEKS

𖦹 this means you will have to get him to wash himself

𖦹 only perk of that is showering n bathing w/ him, its a real big part of your relationship

𖦹 he likes it because hes close to you and it gives him a lot of comfort and feels really cared for if you wash his hair for him + likes the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp

𖦹 he likes leaving things he thinks you'll like all around the house

𖦹 he found a crusty ass ring he'll think you'll like?KABOOSH!!!!! its on the bathroom counter

𖦹 he also doesn't take too kindly to anyone you talk to that isn't him, he gets really jealous n upset over that

𖦹 this makes him extremly bratty unfortunately

𖦹 prepare for him being in the walls and banging on them for hours on end to piss you off and placing that stupid doll everywhere just to get a scare out of you

𖦹 will literally refuse to do anything for you

𖦹 buttt you can make it up to him by telling him theres nothing to worry about n making him a wee sandwich + giving him kisses, easy peasy squeeze the lemon (im really hoping some of yous got that reference)

𖦹 brahms also likes cuddling

𖦹 a lot

𖦹 you're sitting down reading or on your phone? not without him on your lap nuzzing into your neck having a wee nap

𖦹 you might end up with dead legs by the end of it but hey! it was worth it

𖦹 probably......

𖦹 he just stares at you a lot but dw! not in a creepy way (from his perspective at least), he's just admiring your beauty

𖦹 really likes it when you read to him + it puts him to sleep

𖦹 also loves it when you brush his hair, surprise surprise it also puts him to sleep

𖦹 CLINGY!!!!!!!!! so very very very very CLINGY

𖦹 if you leave the room for a second he will follow doesnt matter if he knows where you're going he will follow

𖦹 gets so upset if you leave during cuddling even if its to pee

𖦹 he will whine n grasp n tug at what you're wearing in an attempt to get you to stay w/ him

𖦹 the time he spends following n watching you could be stalking atp

𖦹 seperation anxiety? he knows her, very well

𖦹 will cry if you leave the house until you come back, n the moment you do he practically jumps you, crying and wailing into your shoulder begging you not to leave him ever again

𖦹 will have no intentions of letting go of you for the rest of the day

𖦹 he also really like sleeping in the same bed w/ you

𖦹 he likes that he knows you're there, you can tuck him in, read to him, cuddle him, give him forehead kisses n comfort him in case he has a nightmare or vice versca

𖦹 n e ways 8.5/10 -1 for stinkyness, -0.5 for well him being him ig

¬𝙿𝙰𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙰𝙽¬

𖦹 before i get into this one i actually hate patrick bateman w/ a burning passion for very obvious reasons so i struggled HARD w/ this

𖦹 alr so we all saw that les mis poster in the opening scene so he deffo would bring you along to watch any high end musicals w/ him

𖦹 SKINCARE!!!!!!!!! he has a whole ass ROUTINE which he will explain to you in great detail and explain why the water has to be a certain temp n why this needs to be put on this way n that needs to be put on that way

𖦹 would let you do skincare on him but beware that he will check the entire ingredients list before you put it on his face

𖦹 its rather boring to listen to but he looks so proud of himself while explaining it, how could you not listen?????

𖦹 he spoils you rotten like its acc so bad

𖦹 you wanted those fancy ass pairs of shoes? they're already in your hands

𖦹 you want a reservation at dorsia? you've got one

𖦹 you literally want anything in the world? you'll have it before you even know you want it

𖦹 he obviously doesn't like people apart from himself so when he found the slightest bit of attraction to you he immediatley became infatuated with you and your life

𖦹 why were you making him feel this way? how were you making him feel this way? was it sorcery? was he going insane? yeah

𖦹 suprise suprise this did lead him to asking you out which led you up to here getting whatever you want

𖦹 hes a jealous fucker i can tell you that

𖦹 especially when he sees you within a 6ft distance of paul allen

𖦹 he storms over and makes some passive aggresive comment toward the two of you and then tries to keep himself cool w/ some swanky inner monologue and eventually drags you away because he "needed to talk to you"

𖦹 spoiler alert, he didn't

𖦹 all this leads to is some rather lewd acts back at his apartment as he tries to reassure himself that he's much better than paul allen and taunts you asking if you think paul allen could make you feel this way

𖦹 rants on to you about his music collection and explains how he thinks this song led them to stardom and someone was an idiot for not releasing this and that as a single and not putting these songs in this album and yadayadaya

𖦹 great if you actually are bothered to listen to him rant on for ages horrific if you aren't, gets quite offended if you don't show much interest in his music

𖦹 i get if if you don't tho, its really something...

𖦹 we all know this man is a complete germaphobe so be absolutley horrifically aware of that unless you fancy getting yelled at

𖦹 he love love LOVESS watching texas chainsaw massacare with you, he loves it when you twos just sit there in silence and cuddle while watching people get brutally attacked n chased, how romantic!

𖦹 finds it funny when you grimace or go 'oh my god' at any brutal scene in it

𖦹 touchy

𖦹 v e r y t o u c h y

𖦹 at any public event he always has a hand snaked around your waist or has his arm linked in yours

𖦹 even in is apartment he still has that hand snaked aorund your waist

𖦹 not a fan of kissing bc he's a germaphobe but because he knows were you've been most of the time he dislikes it a little less

𖦹 prefers giving forehead kisses tho as its quick and much more hygenic than lips

𖦹 god that was tough to write but overall, 7.5/10, -2.5 for being himself. i hate him too much to give him a better rating so ja

¬𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙱𝙴𝚁𝚃 𝚆𝙴𝚂𝚃¬

𖦹 i am so horrendously excited to write this because for the last like 4 days i have not stopped thinking about reanimator, i eat sleep breath the franchise, and herbert west is such a giggle so teehee

𖦹 alright if you're not in the science field or have any connection to dan hes probably not going to take an interest in you as you're not one of his areas of interest

𖦹 if you are in the category of herbert wests interests well done! he tolerates you

𖦹 like patrick would notice how weird he felt around you and would probably blame it on 'primal urges' ew

𖦹 he would most likely ignore them until he can't, and it eventually all bubbles over and he just can't resist inviting you to his basement of wonders

𖦹 he just watches you intently the entire time your there much like brahms does, also not in a creepy way (in his eyes) just admiring you

𖦹 he probably goes on a rather detailed explanation of his work and what he did to get here

𖦹 if you ever feel a lil faint abt all that stuff he just puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder cuz hes a lil awkward

𖦹 lowkey enlists you alongside dan to go steal bodies and experiment on them

𖦹 if you ever get attacked by one of the re-animated he literally doesn't leave your side, mainly to see the severity of your injuries to examine the strength of the reanimated and the other tiny bit because he cares for you

𖦹 has shit talking sessions about dr hill w/ you, it mainly consists of him getting rather heated over the fact he plagiarizes his work and ya know the whole 6-12 mins thing

𖦹 is very clingy with you when dr hill is around as he doesn't want him to make any creepy ass remarks about you so he sticks to your side like he sticks to his research

𖦹 really appreciates is when you cook for him as he's a total basement dweller and doesn't leave it for food

𖦹 so lets say you actually did make something for him he would be really surprised and would be rather amused that you care enough to make him something and he'll gladly eat it

𖦹 also doesn't sleep a lot, so if and when he comes up from the basement he will be taking a nap on you

𖦹 speaking of him taking naps, he'll just plonk on top of you when he wants to take a nap so

𖦹 yay!!!

𖦹 like patrick with music herbert will rant on about science to you

𖦹 at any time, like you could be in bed ready to finally sleep and then he starts rambling about the R.E.M cycle and how benificial sleep is for the body yet he gets absolutley NONE

𖦹 isn't very good at expressing affection for you bc he's herbert so those naps and his rants are actually his way of showing he rlly likes you

𖦹 kissing isn't his favourite thing in the world bc of germs and stuff, so he presses quick kisses to your forehead, nose and cheek such a gentleman

𖦹 but, when herberts all whiny and annoyed at life he will be down for a cheeky make out sesh

𖦹 he gets very flustered after it which is pretty funny to watch so he usually distracts himself with science

𖦹 i genuinely couldn't tell you if he would use petnames or not

𖦹 will use your name 99.9999999999% of the time, just maybe will call you darling

𖦹 just maybe.....

𖦹 n e ways dunno what else to write so 8.9/10, -1.1 for being a body snatcher ig

omds that was so hard and I was gonna add more characters but i kinda got lazy but PLEEEAAAASSEEEE lemme know what you guys thought ty :3

[eph3merall]

could you please write some fluff about Chris having sleep paralysis or a crazy nightmare and reader comforts him and like rubs his back and what not love you so much mwah xx

fluff request !! i dont write mainly fluff much !!! very different type of request, but i think this turned out okay :) love u love u

chris' room is quiet, deathly silent besides a few whistles of wind from outside. fluffy blankets are thrown over your body, and you arent entirely sure what wakes you from your slumber. maybe a shift and a rustle besides you, followed by panting, shaky breaths. you blink your eyes open slowly, rubbing at them and stretching your limbs out.

rolling your hear to the side, you see chris is sat up with a hand in his hair and his chest rising and falling far too fast to be normal. blinking away the remnants of exhaustion in your vision, you shift to sit up—letting the blankets fall off your body as you look to the brunett besides you.

"hey... y'okay?" your voice is tentatively soft in the quiet space, worried eyes scanning over him. you duck your head to try and peer into chris' eyes and get a glimpse of his face, before he's hurriedly flipping the strands of brown hair in front of his forehead just for them to fall back into place. his smile is shaky and he nods a few times.

"yeah, yeah yeah, yeah.."

it doesn't stop your arm from looping around his shoulders, pulling his body towards yours as both of you sigh. your hand loosens its hold and shifts to rub at his back, pressing soothing circles as you let your head tilt to rest on his shoulder. your eyes close, waiting to feel chris' breathing even out.

slowly but surely, with the help of holding his hand in yours and pressing it to your own chest, chris calms down. the beat of your own heart helped him regain control of his own breaths and you feel a sense of pride wash over you. you tilt your head to give him a soft smile, as he lets you drop his hand only to intertwine your fingers in between the two of your bodies.

your thumb rubs across his knuckles and he squeezes your hand as if saying 'thank you'. the faint sound of a clock ticking can be heard through the howling wind coming from outside, banging at windows and doors as you take a few deep breaths yourself.

"so.. y'have a nightmare or something?"

chris nods and you can faintly see him roll his eyes—like he doesn't really need to be comforted like this. but you know he enjoys the touch and the reassuring words anyways, so you dont bother pulling away from him as a light chuckle fleets past your lips.

"it's okay, y'know. not like im gonna make fun of you or something," and your heart warms when chris laughs. hes scoffing and giggling at your words, brushing the hair out of his face and groaning all dramatically.

"nah it's.. it's okay. i'm literally fine, babe, promise. was just some stupid nightmare 'bout stupid shit," you cant help but look at him weirdly when he says 'stupid' twice in that sentence, giggling and leaning closer. you let your fingers untangle with his and you spread your fingers our, watching as chris does the same. you let your thumb trace across the length of his digits, over the veins you can kind of see in the dark and just around the silhouette of his hand.

"dreamt about you, y'know? but like, it was scary," you cant help but laugh at what he says, and chris sighs dramatically like you've hurt his feelings, only continuing when you mumble a little 'sorry sorry, continue' under your breath. "like, you were all mean and shit. and then, for some reason, you ended up fucking dead? like.."

your head shakes at the words chris is mumbling into the darkness, eyes trained on the bleary sight of his hand under yours. his shoulder knocks against yours briefly, the warmth of his body seeping into yours as you lock your fingers again and then turn to look at his face.

"but its okay. im okay, im not dead," you giggle for a second, only talking again through stifled snickers when chris punches your shoulder playfully, "and you are okay too. it was exactly that, just a nightmare. im okay, im here.. you're here too. its alright."

and when chris nods, you know he feels much better, his breathing has evened out, and from what you can see of the expression on his face he just looks exhausted now. you can assume it's around 2 am or something, having gotten into bed just at 12.

"hey.."

your voice is mellow as a hand reaches up to cup his cheek, fingers brushing against the stubble dotting his jawline and skin. you turn your head to look at chris closely, then lean in to press a soft kiss to his lips. just a quick little peck, then moving to press a few more to his cheeks and at the corner of his lip.

you dont miss the way he seems to deflate, content and relaxed now. his own hands end up cupping your face and leaning in to press a few of his kisses to your face. except he lets them linger, lets you feel them. which is a little ironic, because it really should be you being the one kissing him like this—all romantic and sweet. but you dont protest, sighing into his mouth when he locks your lips with his own.

its just for a few seconds before chris pulls away, and even in the darkness you can see he smile on his face. it warms you up inside, shifting on his bed to get back under the covers and pulling him with you. your head ends up on his chest, your own lips curling into a grin.

"go to bed, chris. you'll be okay," the words hold reassurance in them, and you're sure he will be okay. this is chris we're talking about, after all.

"i love you, baby."

"i love you too."

@conspiracy-ash @sturniolosfavkayleigh @lvrsturniolo @st7rnioioss @meatballlover10 @ashlishes @ferdzom @55sturn @chriseatingmeoutin4k @unknvhx @mattslolita @chaossturns @slut4brunettes @starclinexo @slvtf0rchr1s @itsmaddielouis @slut4chris888

—

©eph3merall 2025

[keerysfreckles]

Luke x percy’s older sister angst/fluff comfort where her nightmares get really really bad and she hasn’t been able to sleep so she lashes out on everyone and distances herself and her and luke really fight but then he comforts her because reader spilled to annabeth and ofc it’s gonna spread hahahah

bummerland — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem poseidon!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, ANGST!!!

a/n: we get the tunnel of love episode tomorrow AND THE PERCABETH HUG SCENE IM TOTALLY NORMAL ABT THIS..

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

y/n jolts awake. beads of sweat dripping off her forehead and cheeks. she's surpsied percy hasn't woken up because of her reaction to her nightmares. turning to her left, she sees percy fast asleep.

half-bloods always had nightmares. some campers had it worse than others. tonight y/n could've sworn she had the worst nightmare any half-blood could have.

the nightmares weren't new to the girl. they just started getting worse ever since she got claimed by her father, which was three weeks ago.

y/n wasn't usually the angered type. in percy's words, "she has her moments", but she never was angry at anyone for long periods of time.

since y/n the only older camper in the poseidon cabin, it automatically made her a camp counselor. which might explain why the campers were confused that she didn't show up during sword lessons today. her, luke and clarisse were supposed to teach them today. luke and clarisse managaed to help all the campers, but having y/n there would've made it a hundred times easier.

no one really questioned it, until y/n didn't show up at lunch or dinner that same day. annabeth asked percy about it at lunch, and he guessed she was taking a nap, which wasn't unusual for his sister.

however when luke asked percy for y/n's whereabouts, he didn't know how to answer the hermes boy. percy hasn't seen y/n all day, which only worried both of them.

the next day passed the same way as yesterday. not one camper saw y/n. this made percy more anxious, as well as annabeth. luke made it his mission to find the missing counselor.

luke checked cabin three, and wasn't surprised to only find two empty beds. he then checked the infirmary, the big house (minus the attic), the climbing wall, and near the lake. he ran his fingers through his hair, sighing once he realized y/n was still missing in the camp.

luke was about to go back to his cabin ans call it a night, until his heard a noise coming from inside the woods. it wasn't any sort of monstrous sound, which was the only reason luke followed the noise without a second thought.

he continued to trek through the woods as the noise became louder. he recognized the path was leading him towards the archery range. he can't believe he didn't check the archery range on his own.

once the trees cleared, he saw an empty range. until his eyes landed on y/n shooting arrows at the overused hay bales. luke caught up to her as she was walking to reclaim her arrows, ready to shoot again.

"y/n, we've all been worried about you. none of the campers said they didn't see you. neither did percy," luke grabs her elbow, stopping her movements.

y/n looks at luke as if he had three heads, all with smoke steaming out of their ears. "what are you doing out here?"

luke's surprised by her tone. it seemed rush and cold. he can't remember if he ever heard y/n talked like that.

"i was looking for you! i was so worried about you."

y/n shakes her arm out of luke's grasp and just continues to collect her arrows. "i'm fine luke, really."

luke scoffs, and follows her as she walks back to her bow at the other end of the range. "you wouldn't be avoiding the whole camp for two days, you think that's fine? that's the opposite of fine y/n!"

y/n doesn't respond. she preoccupied herself with loading her bow with a brown arrow provided by the camp.

"what, now you're going to ignore me?" luke's hands were on his hips, watching angrily as y/n continued to ignore his presence. she shot almost three more arrows before he spoke again.

"annabeth told me about you having nightmares," luke's voice was much more soft, but even more concerned.

"why didn't you tell me?" he sounded hurt.

y/n doesn't look towards luke, she starts fiddling with the bow and arrow in her hand. she shook her head, and luke didn't have to see her face to know her bottom lip was quivering.

"i didn't want to bother anyone. annabeth pushed it out of me, and i guess she told you," y/n responded.

luke grabbed the bow and arrow out of y/n's hand and set them on the ground, before he took both of the girl's shoulders in his hands.

"y/n you have to believe me when i tell you, you're not a bother to me. you're not a bother to anyone at camp, i swear."

y/n shrugs luke's hands off her body, and went back to shooting arrows down the range.

luke let out a sound of anger, mixed with stubbornness. "y/n, can you just come back to the camp so people can stop worrying about you, and we can talk about it?"

luke sighs again since he knew he wasn't getting an answer out of the girl.

"gods, y/n, will you stop and just talk with me?"

y/n could tell luke was getting more and more frustrated. she knew she couldn't ignore him forever. she throws the bow on the ground, and discards her arm protection. the girl was now fully facing luke.

"go ahead, talk."

luke starts to explain again how worried he was, and how worried the campers were that no one knew where she was. no one knew why she disappeared, until luke got the information from annabeth, about y/n's reoccurring nightmares.

"all half-bloods have nightmares y/n, you know we all relate to you about that. so why couldn't you just talk to someone about it instead of vanishing?"

y/n tried to respond. her mouth opened, but nothing came out. it's as if her voice box was completely removed. she looked all around, trying to avoid luke's eye contact. she tried to speak once more, but the same croak-y airy sound came out.

"come here," luke simply said, before pulling y/n's arm. he engulfed her in a hug, and she was quick to respond by wrapping her arms around luke's waist. he whispered comforting words in the air, as he held her head to his sternum. he believed she was the perfect height for hugs.

luke heard small cries coming from the girl in his arms, which soon turned to y/n choking on her own sobs. he was fast at calming her down. he did it plenty of times while she was in hermes' cabin, he practically knew her better than she did.

"are you okay?" luke asked once he heard her cries soften, now she was only sniffling. he felt her nod against his chest, and he started to rock their bodies back and forth gently.

"thank you luke," y/n's quiet, "for calming me down, and for finding me."

"like i said, we were all worried about you," luke responded.

y/n pulled away from the hug, "i guess i should go find percy and tell him i'm alive."

[icannotgetoverbirds]

and if you're going for socially acceptable across political spectrums: every fat person ever would like to have several words with op, along with little people, children, people with addictions, people who can't care for themselves, intersex people, JEWISH PEOPLE for goodness sake, and probably several others I haven't thought of, as well as everyone for whom one or more of those identities intersect.

Did you forget that people frequently cite eugenics as a solution for fat disabled people as a joke, including hardened leftists? Or do you just not see them as humans, or humans worthy of the things every human deserves?

Making fun of short people is the last social taboo seen as acceptable

[zwhoreo]

Hi! Can I request a fic where the fem!reader helps Luffy to deal with the trauma of losing his brother?

omg first fic after i randomly left for 2 months!! but im back to writing angst again im in an angst phase

also i ended up not specifying anything gendered for reader, hope that’s chill that it’s x gn! i mostly reserve gendered language for smut

wake up @nina-ya i finished the fic i said i’d finish 2 months ago

nightmares - luffy x gn!reader

angst, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending

❕SPOILERS FOR MARINEFORD❕

summary: the trauma of marineford gives luffy nightmares, and you need to comfort him while he’s vulnerable and scared

contains: luffy in a distressing emotional situation, luffy is traumatized, references to marineford/ace’s death/timeskip

words: 2k

_______________________________

Luffy never used to remember his dreams. They were hazy and soft, they made him feel warm and fuzzy when he woke up, he would stretch and yawn and they’d go away so fast and so gently like butterflies flying away. And then he’d see you and hold you and kiss you until you were awake too, as excited to see you and his heart so warm and full of love.

And you were there to enjoy his dreams, he was a noisy sleeper who mumbled happy little thoughts unintelligibly into your neck, he would kick and pinch and squeeze in his sleep which you had to learn to live with because he couldn’t go to sleep without a hug and you’d be the one to give it to him all night. But he’d often end up moving and rolling around, tangling himself uncomfortably, protective instincts kicking in he'd get on top of you and lay there, starfish. When he awoke in the night he’d assume his most comfortable and close position with lazy kisses. He was so, so happy every night.

That was two years ago.

He’s still the same boy he was then, still giving you all those awkward little affections during the night that you missed so much while you were away. But now there’s more. Now, sometimes, he has nightmares. Awful ones that torment him every so often and make him upset and sad when he awakes in the dark, make him begin to cry when he realizes you aren’t in his arms anymore. You always pray for nights when he’s calm like he used to be, you make sure to massage him and kiss him as he falls asleep to coax those good dreams back and help him heal. Of course those years ago he’d get upset and scared and sometimes he wouldn’t feel well when he woke up, but that was so rare, that was when something bad had just happened and he was very stressed but it was so rare because he was so, so happy.

Luffy’s happy now, too. He hasn’t changed much, really, still an excitable, bouncy kid, always smiling, but now you have to worry about the night. You have to worry about dark thoughts and memories bubbling over when he’s most vulnerable until his body shakes and even your affection is barely enough. This is terrible for you, so unbearably terrible. You have to learn how to soothe something broken, something you love with every fraction of your shattered heart.

_________________________________

You’re asleep, a dull, unbreakable sleep, you’d curled up in Luffy’s arms when it was time for bed and you’d cuddled together and giggled and kissed until you both fell asleep in a joyful pile. Now you’re so content, you don’t even notice how Luffy had accidentally rolled away from you in the night, sheets all tangled up with you and keeping a distracting warmth.

Luffy’s dream isn’t bad at first. It’s the kind where you’re not quite there, floating above the world in just a dull picture, no sound or feeling or touch. It’s just the ocean, a bird over the sea. But suddenly the ocean is stone and the sky is fire and he’s disoriented, where is he? What’s happening? He looks at his hands and they’re red and he’s frozen in fear like you sometimes are in nightmares. He knows in his fractured, cloudy little mind that something bad is going to happen and he’s going to see that picture again. A thousand flashbulb memories are going to explode at once, in fire. In the waking world in bed he’s twitching and sweating and his eyes are shifting furiously beneath his lids, and you don’t know, you aren’t there to hold him.

Ace. Ace’s smile and his soft black eyes and they’re playing in the jungle together and running and running and now that’s gone, the fire’s back. It all happens at once, so much blood, holding something fading and dying. Heartsick over a goodbye. It’s one of those nightmares where you cry and scream so much and as loud as you can because everything’s happening to you at once, but you can’t make any sound, you’re just in a tidal wave of amplified agony. And that’s how Luffy lives in this moment, unable to make out much of anything except darkness and pain, shaking and overheating in his sleep.

But the anguish bursts all around him and then suddenly the fire’s gone and everything is quiet again and Luffy’s awake, tangled uncomfortably in the blankets, face covered in tears. He can’t catch his breath and his mind is full and blurry and empty all at once. Suddenly the darkness of the cabin is all encompassing, sickly, he wants it to be day again and for the world to feel safe and happy and oh, where are you?

Fear squeezes his heart as he tries to find you in the darkness, are you gone? He can’t handle being alone right now, he can’t do this, he searches with his hands in the dark and cries and feels the panic burning a hole in his stomach but finally he turns to his left and there you are. Sleeping. Despite all of this you’re still sleeping, curled up and breathing slowly, unaware and at peace. Luffy wants to wake you up so badly because he doesn’t want to be alone but he doesn’t want to worry you.

So he climbs into your arms and breathes you in. He buries his face in your chest and tries to calm his injured heart.

Biting his lip and shaking he tries so hard not to cry. He can’t bother you, he knows you’ll be sad and worried which he really doesn’t want. But his whole body hurts, he wants your arms to be tighter, he squeezes and squeezes begging silently for relief and for everything to go away but it wasn’t just a night terror it was a memory and memories don’t just go away. So he cries.

You’re stirred from sleep because the sound of Luffy crying is the worst thing you could possibly hear, a thousand of your own memories are brought back and some deep instinct is triggered within you, pulling you, you wake up immediately and the first thing you do is get on top of him and lock him in your arms, trying to breathe slowly so he will too.

He twitches beneath you, cloudy realization that he’s no longer alone. His arms are around you, fingers digging in, sharp pain, he’s trying so hard to make his tears stop as you hold him and stroke his face. But he’s a possessive, needy boyfriend who’s comforted by protecting who he loves. He sits up, taking you with him, he wraps his arms around you tighter and tighter and then his legs. He’s breathing heavily on your face, eyes closed, sad still but resilient. You’re pinned to him, unable to move, but you massage the tension out of his back and shoulders as best you can.

“Did you have a nightmare?” you whisper and he nods against you and holds you even tighter if that’s possible, “…do you wanna talk about it?”

So he nods very gently but he doesn’t say anything. His hands are twitching against you, scratching at your back in leftover desperation.

“Was it about him?”

Luffy leans against you, hopeless and drained, you don’t need him to answer so you just press your cheek against his and pet his hair. And his shoulders shake as he cries silently in your arms.

You rest there for a few minutes, unable to do much other than just hold him, and he whispers in your ear, “I miss him so much.” Which wets your eyes because there’s so much pain in those five words. His voice is breathy, far away.

“I know, Lu… I’m sorry.” You’re not good at this, you think. You never really know what to say because this goes deeper than words can touch.

Luffy bites his lips. He doesn’t want to cause you pain and knowing that he is, it’s just piling on top of his despair. There’s so many times he’s oblivious to how you’re feeling but when things are broken, when you’re in distress, reality tugs at the inside of his heart.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, fingers in his hair, you kiss his neck gently and the warmth is getting through to him, so gradually.

“I want him here. I just…” Luffy’s voice is breaking. And you taste fresh tears as you move your lips higher. “I miss him,” he says again.

“I know how much he meant to you. Hey, Luffy…” The slow rise and fall of your chest is slowly steadier his breath now. He looks up at you, that sadness in his eyes is almost too painful to handle but you look at him anyways, eye contact with something beautiful soothes his soul. “He’d be so proud of you. And how strong you are.”

He’s heard this before. Luffy sniffles, he knows it’s true but only so much of that can help.

“He’d be proud of you, because you never gave up, right? You kept going and you got stronger.” And you’re not talking about his physical strength, really. You tap the side of his head gently. “Up here.”

Luffy nods subtly, his tears are stopping slowly as he clings to the comfort of your words, his greatest comfort in the world is protecting people he loves, being there for someone. He’s still guilt ridden at letting his brother die for him but as long as he keeps living he’s living for Ace, honoring him, being there for him even if he’s gone.

And that’s what you say next, reading his mind. “What matters is that you’re alive. You didn’t let what he did for you go to waste, he’d be so proud of that. This is exactly what he wanted, yeah?” Your hands trace circles on Luffy’s back as you feel him relax very slowly.

“I’m so happy you’re still here,” you whisper right in his ear.

“Mhm…” Luffy’s lips find yours, hovering, just touching you. “I’m not letting you go, ‘kay?” His words are so deep and genuine. There’s heartache there but an impenetrable love, most of all. His arms are flexed around your body, he’s squeezing you and it’s almost uncomfortable but you have to let him right now.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You manage a smile which makes him smile too.

It seemed impossible for Luffy to get even more loving but he definitely was when you saw him again. You’re the one who’s getting it all, all the affection he wanted to give to his brother.

“You wanna hang out for a while?” You offer because you’re scared to let him sleep again. “It’s ok to stay up. If you’re tired tomorrow I’ll take a nap with you.”

He likes that idea. Maybe you’ll get something to eat, even take a walk on the deck if it’s not too cold. He just wants your company. He wants to spend as much time with you as he physically can to make up for everything and to show you how much love he has to give.

“I love you, mh, let’s stay up an’ hang out,” his words are quiet and gravelly from sleep and tears but what matters is he’s smiling now. He’s back to living in the moment tonight, and you’re his moment.

The next morning he’ll be completely back to himself. He’ll kiss you good morning but he’ll act like the night never happened, probably, because it’s nicer to be happy and enjoy the day. He has you, he knows everything’s going to be alright.

[lucimaaie]

ellie as spiderwoman hcs ✧.* au

a/n- honestly was just an excuse for me to watch spiderman again and i took it, kind of switch between would’ve and did idk babes im just having fun atp

playlist | spidey masterlist

she'd have lost her mom at a young age and been placed with joel, who she never gets along with at first, thinking he's just a bil ol meanie who wanted an extra check every month.

that was until he showed he cared, not through hugs and affection in the traditional sense, but making sure she did her homework, picking her up everyday, getting her out of her room, checking on her when she'd been too quiet. "you okay, kiddo?" and "i heard talking helps." he'd say as he leaned on the door frame. eventually, she couldn't help but love him.

absolutely a nerd. though, when she got teased, she didn't exactly back down as expected which landed her in the detention a few times and some talking-to's. but she won and defended herself. no one could be mad at her for that. still, she was smart. she was going to be an astronaut after all. though that dream died in middle school.

high school came and she tried to straighten up. no more fighting bullies, even if they deserved it. she was better than that. she would get an internship, the internship that would line everything up, get her a scholarship so she could study aerospace engineering, get rich and get joel out of the old house on a patch of land with however many sheep he wanted. the same internship that got her bitten by a radioactive spider and shooting webs out her wrists.

words could not describe how much she worried joel when she woke up the day after, crushing her alarm clock, breaking the sink, the shower rack, everything. she skipped that day, hanging out on the rooftop of the house while joel was away stuck between having a panic attack from the sensory overload and telling someone, anyone. she decided on testing them out which earned her quite a few bruises joel luckily chalked up to another fight. "we gotta talk about this fighting thing sometime." she'd roll her eyes, saying something snarky before limping up the stairs. "say what you want but i win," "i heard that!"

also sidebar: ellie as a new yorker...whew. honestly ellie as anything- anyway.

hours or research ensue on cross-species genetics, spiderbites, different types of spiders, everything that made her feel disgusting. she slammed her laptop closed, crushing the poor thing.

it felt like there were a million things to do with her newfound powers but the only two on her mind was impress dina and swing from the rooftops. c’mon, she was 16 with the powers of a freaking spider. who said saving people would the first thing on her mind? she felt powerful, even weirder than she already felt but still powerful.

it was terrible, watching joel get more and more disappointed in her as she got distracted. “i’m a good kid! i just got distracted, gimmie a break.” “i have given you plenty. more than i should’ve. and that’s on me. that's my mistake to make you think that coming home late and fighting and blowing me off is okay.”

“i can't help how i turned out! don't blame me for being a shitty dad.” she yelled before slamming the door and stalking off into who knows where. she didn't even mean it, she was just stressed, she never meant any of it. hours later, she’d wish those words never came out her mouth.

she'd hoped she was having some cruel nightmare when she saw joel laid out on the pavement. "some help me! c-call an ambulance. don't just fucking stand there-" her voice was raw as she screamed out. "c'mon, don't die on me. y-you can't. i'm sorry? is that what you wanna hear? i'm sorry."

she hated the looks of pity, everyone's soft voices. people who never once talked to her suddenly caring. it was all fake. they didn't know her and they sure and hell didn't know joel.

she became another person for a while. quieter, more closed off. sometimes snappy. laser focused on finding the low-life took joel from her. that's when she started wearing the mask. the basic concept of it anyway and it caught on with the people, more than she imagined. ellie scoffed at the name spider-woman at first, thinking it was ridiculous. she wasn't some circus performer, she was just trying to find the killer.

dina as her mj, reaching out to her after joel’s death, inviting her over for dinner, talking to her in class, all of it. it wasn’t the same disingenuous pity she hated, she could feel she cared. so she allowed her feelings to fester. being with her actually helped. it was one more thing to balance with school and the internship and her mission, but it was more person in her life. she needed that.

one day ellie went running towards the trouble. not because joel's killer was there or cause of some adrenaline rush, but because she needed to do something. to not be helpless for once. she wasn't helpless. she hadn't felt completely in control of her body as she webbed a whole bridge back together and pulled cars back onto the surface, but in the end it was a like a high. it still ached to see kids running to their parents and everyone running to their families, but they were all safe. she did that. and that felt better than getting revenge and letting it suck the life out of her. so she'd wear the spandex and the mask and go by the stupid name. only cause it meant something now.

thank you for reading!

[jasmines-library]

Hi!! I LOVE UR WRITING SM!! im literally obsessed with ur batfam and supernatural fanfictions!!

So, could u PLS write an older winchester sibling one where they take care of their younger brothers when they were children and how much more difficult john made it fore them and then maybe throw in a scene when theyre all older (like during the show) where the brothers maybe express their appreciation for them??

Thanks in advance!! ❤️

Family First

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Warnings: sort of abuse mentioned, death mentioned.

Word Count: 1.3k

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Protect your brothers at all costs. That was what your father always told you. As the eldest, it was your duty to look after them, to teach them and to protect them from the world whilst your father was away. Three years older than Dean and seven years older than Sam, you have a lot of responsibility to look after them. 

Most of your time was spent in some dead-beat motel, where the taps dripped constantly and the wallpaper was either shrouded with mould or peeling off. Sometimes both at the same time. With the loss of your mother and the often absence of your father, you played more of a parental role to your little brothers than anyone else. You were there for birthdays to see the gleam on their faces when they unwrapped the presents you had managed to steal or scrounge together with what little money you had. You were there on christmassed when John, too obsessed with work to care, wasn't. No matter how many times you had to lie to them about where he was, it never got easier. You never got used to seeing the disappointment on their small faces; their eyebrows knitting together and their eyes drooping with sadness. And it never got easier seeing them slowly begin to lose hope in their father. To see them slowly realise that he wasn’t coming home most nights. Slowly, as they grew, they began to see through your excuses for John, becoming wise to his actions. To his neglect. But the worst part was the worry. Worry for John, but also for your brothers. Even as they slept, sprawled out on the motel bed, you would stay on the couch, eyes wide awake as you nursed a mug of lukewarm coffee, eyes flicking between whatever shitty cartoon you had playing on mute, and your sleeping brothers just waiting for something. For one of them to wake up from a nightmare. For something to somehow slip through the doors and windows you had locked firmly shut, and double checked at least three times. The fear of something happening to your brothers gripped you tight like a vice, consuming you completely. A lot of it stemmed from the ‘maternal’ role you played for them. But a lot if it was fear driven into you by your father. 

He was hard on you. That was very clear. John had always been very clear with his discipline. Especially since your mom died. There was one time that something did happen to your brothers whilst on your watch. And the memory scarred you to this day. You had left the motel room for a minute. You had wanted to slip across the hall to the vending machine, and selfishly wanted some peace and quiet away from your brothers for once. But….when you returned your heart practically dropped through your feet. Sam, barely 10 years old, was lying on the bed, Dean not far away and in the two minutes that you had taken your gaze off of your brothers, the Shtriga that your father was out hunting had managed to slip through the window to feed on your youngest brother. Luckily, your father had returned in time to kill the striga and both Sam and Dean were completely fine. But you had hell to pay from your father. To say he scolded you would be putting it lightly. You never took your eyes off of your brothers after that. 

As you all grew older, and your father had deemed Dean old enough to look after Sammy, you began to hunt with your father. The training was rough, and often you came home battered and bruised. But that was just the life of a hunter. Hesitation would be punished. Hesitation could get you or someone killed; shoot first ask questions later. Always. Hunting with your dad gave you a rush. The two of you began to grow a little closer as you spent more time with him. Sure, he was hard on you. But you knew he just wanted you to be safe….. You began to enjoy hunting once you pushed past the initial fear and the butterflies that stirred in your stomach until they made you feel sick. It gave you something to do. It gave you a purpose. It made you feel like you were helping. Saving people. Though the nervousness still lingered when you were away from your brothers. The longer you were away the more the thoughts of something bad happening to them consumed your mind even though you knew they were old enough to handle themselves. You hated to admit it…but it sort of hurt that they didn’t need you anymore. 

Overtime, things changed. Dean began to hunt too. Sam drifted apart. Until that fateful night that he left. You still remember the argument. The slamming of doors as he left for Stanford with no plan of when or if he would even return. Dean needed you for the first time in a long time that night. John had stormed off, heading to the local bar to drown his problems with drink. You were sure that if you hadn’t been there, then dean would have been following shortly behind like a dog in tow. A lost puppy following its owner. The two of you sat in silence that night, clinging on to every shred of the comfort you could give each other. To every shattered fragment of your broken family. 

Things fell apart further when your Dad went missing. With Sam gone, Dean and you would often go on hunts together. Sometimes with your father. Often not. And sure, sometimes you would go a little while without seeing each other if the jobs didn’t line up, but this time it had been too long. So you hauled yourself into Baby, who John had gifted to you, and took the long drive to visit Sammy at Stanford. You couldn’t believe how much he had grown since you last saw him. He was taller. That was the first thing you noticed. He even dwarfed Dean who already towered over you himself. And he had changed his hair too. It framed his face more. He was so grown up so different, but even with the time apart the love between you still remained. It was that reason that Sam decided to join you. Broken and grieving his girlfriend, once again Sammy needed you. And you were ready to be there for him. It felt like being a child again; having your brothers relying on you once more. But even with years away from them, the feeling still came naturally. 

The three of you became thick as thieves again after that. Sam stayed. Sam died. Sam came back. Dean died. Dean came back. Over and over again the three of you would be separated. And each time you found your way back to each other. Every time you were there. 

It was a hot day in California when it happened. Dean had been driving Baby, the windows rolled down as your and Sam's voices melded with the music blasting from the stereo. It was one of those days in between hunts where life was just so worth living. Where the Winchesters could just be. You had stopped at a small cafe in the mountains. It was a pretty thing; small and on the roadside by a lake in the mountains. It had a small picnic space that you and Sam resided in as Dean brought over your order. He had insisted in going in himself, even though you had offered countless times to go in for him. 

The glass clinked against the class as he placed the tray down on the table.

“Thank you, Deano.” you smiled softly, taking your order from the tray and savouring the ice cold of your drink as you took a sip. 

Dean sat beside you. “It’s no problem. You’re always doing things for us, you know? Let us do something for you. Even if it is just driving and buying you lunch.”

“Seriously,” Sam added, “You’re always helping us out. Patching us up. Keeping us safe. You’re always there.”

You shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“We know.” Sam hummed. “But I guess we’ve never really said thank you.”

“You don’t have to, Sammy. It’s just my job. Someone’s gotta keep you two in line.”

They both chuckle lightly. “Seriously though. Thank you.”

Your heart warmed, a soft, loved smile creeping onto your lips. “Anytime, you call and I’m there. Always.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish @killxz @rosecentury @lara20aral

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