Why do you write like you're running out of time?

It feels like you're in the water, but every time you come up for air, a fire above tries to roast you. There is no longer a safe place. You fear the water- the unknown, the next step, being forced to move forward with no plan. But above, where it is supposed to be safe and secure. There is nothing there anymore, only the heat of the fire still trying to get you when you fight so hard to come back up. 

People, chances, hopes. None of it seems to stick anymore and you fear this is your forever point. 

You don’t know how to continue on in this, the deep, the fire. It seems as if there is no place for you anymore. 

The comfort of the cool air is long gone, your partner in the deep seemed to have the oxygen tank because it seems like every time you go on without them, you seem to run out of time and air and patience and hope. 

There is no place for you in their world, and it is scary to swim alone, especially when the land you so desperately seek is no longer within reach like it once was. 

Why is there no end to this journey? Why no islands or pockets of calm sea to rest in? Why must it always feel like the fiery hurricane brews on, the eye not even in sight. 

You fear it is going to forever spread across the sea, that you will never truly find peace after the storm, that the storm is the only thing you will ever know. 

Being told it is not fair that there is no life boat is not comforting, it is not helpful, it only pulls you deeper and deeper out to sea, away from any semplace of calm or happiness you once hid in. 

Steve Harrington x reader

Reader is given name for the sake that I hate the Y/N in the writing- lol. So, it's you as the reader, just not your real name.

The death of Seven will forever be seared into your brain. His large, dark eyes, the way his buzzed hair seemed like peach fuzz on his head, and the way his shoulders always seemed to hunch in. He was only 8 when he was controlled by another, though they claimed to have never figured out who it was that controlled him to bash his head against the wall over and over until the brain matter was leaking out. You watched the light leave his eyes from where you stood in horror from the corner of the room, your fingers fumbling for any seam in the wall to swallow you and take you away. It didn’t, and so you stood- barely 9 years old and watched him die. You watched the blood soak into the rainbow carpet on the floor, watched as the doctors came rushing in too late, trying to pry him away from the wall; watched as they made a streak of bright blood on the floor as they dragged his limp body away. 

That day you realized that you were never safe, not from the experiments, not from the adults who claimed to take care of you, and especially not from the other kids there. That day also made you realize that you had to get the hell out of there if you wanted any chance at life. It took years, but finally, one night of the powering failing to the lab was all you needed. As soon as the power flickered all the way off, you busted open the closest emergency exit with the headrest of your bed and took off into the storm, never looking back. 

Sometimes you thought of the other kids you left behind, but now six years later, you walked free in Hawkins, disguised as just another teen by Jim Hopper. Going to school, getting yelled at about having a messy room and trying to save up enough money to get a car for the shiny new license you carry around in your purse. 

Oh, also, trying to get Steve Harrington to notice you as more than a pain in the ass friend. 

When you appeared in middle school, he stared at you for a whole week, it actually freaked you out to the point you told Hopper- who was posing as your adopted father- and he nearly arrested him in the school parking lot. 

“I didn’t know we got new kids!” Was his defense, which you thought was funny, though Hopper still stared him down with a scrutinizing gaze. 

“That’s the best you got?” 

Steve’s face continued to redden to nearly purple until Hopper finally backed away. 

“Stop staring at my kid.” Was all he said before turning and returning to his cruiser. You got into the passenger seat and took a glance at Steve to find him still staring at you. 

You gave him a smile. 

Your friendship only blossomed from there. 

==

“You got a date to the homecoming dance?” Steve asked as the two of you drove home from school on a Friday afternoon. 

“No, but I probably am going to pick up a shift at the nursing home that night anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.” 

“Ellie! No, come on! It’s our senior year, you have to go.” You turned your head and gave him an annoyed look,

“Steve, I am so not third wheeling with you and whatever girl you're into this week to the dance.” He rolls his eyes dramatically at this. 

“Well, then, let me find you a date.” 

“Steve-” 

“Nope, absolutely not. I am not going to our last homecoming without my best friend of six years.” 

You look over at him again, this time with a soft smile creeping onto your face. Steve always has held your friendship near and dear, as if it were the most important thing in his life. Even after he found out about your past when Will went missing, even when the two of you were chasing demogorgons through town, even when he was trying and failing miserably to get Nancy Wheeler to fall in love with him. It’s always been the two of you. 

“Fine, if you can find me a date, I will go to the homecoming dance with you.” 

“Yes! See? It’ll be so great-” 

“But-” you cut him off, “You have to take me to the homecoming game.” 

“Ugh, really Ellie?” 

“Yup.” You grin at him full force now. 

“Fine Ellie, we’ve got a deal.” 

== 

The mall is way too packed for a weekend in September. People everywhere, and you even had Hopper drop you off at the good one an hour from Hawkins. He was not pleased, but since he didn’t have to go dress shopping with you, the ordeal was not a big deal to him. 

“I’ll be back at six, meet me right here.” 

“Of course! Bye!” 

Hopper didn’t even need to add a “be good” to his speech, he knew how you operated, low key, quiet, in and out without a trace. Your history made it necessary to keep a low profile, though due to your lack of abilities at the lab, you and Hopper both knew that more than likely no one was truly looking for you. Though, you knew El would be of a much higher profile. 

As you walked past the various shops, your mind wandered back to El, though she hadn’t been seen or heard from in months, every once in a while when you connected with her little crew of friends, Mike would often talk on and on about how he knew she was coming back, though in reality, she was currently sitting in the living room of your home, watching weird daily soap operas and making Hopper buy dozens of Eggo waffles every month. It was something that needed to also stay on the down low, it was necessary to hide for her, while hiding her. Even Steve, who knew about your own insane life didn’t know she was there, often hiding off in her room that Steve assumed was the extra bedroom in the cabin, the door always shut tight and locked. 

“Bet that’s where Hopper keeps all of his guns.” Steve would joke, even going as far as jiggling the doorhandle for dramatic effect. Though you internally would panic that El would open it, you never let it show and just roll your eyes. 

“Idiot- you know that he sleeps with them next to him in bed.” This would make Steve laugh before wandering back over to the couch or into the kitchen to complain about the lack of chips in the house. 

Even your name stayed the same when El arrived. The group originally used your name as a cover up when stuttering to their teacher about who El was, “Eleaner, this is Eleanor! Will’s cousin,” When in reality it was the first name that popped into Mike’s head when he was scrambling for a name to call El because that wasn’t a number. You had offered to go by something new for months, though El refused to let you change your name for her. 

“You were here first. So you get to be who you were.” 

You looked at this girl for a long moment, remembering the smaller version you left behind, and though you always regretted leaving all of them behind, you were never close to any of the other children. She was almost a distant memory to you. Seven, the only boy who was close in age to you was someone you could have at least considered a friend, but the rest of them were too often put against you for them to not be considered opponents or rivals. This laid heavy on your mind for years, and finally El escaping on her own was proof that it was truly every man for themselves, making that weight feel less crushing. 

“Okay,” You had finally said after a long moment, “I can stay Ellie if you want me to.” 

“I do, Ellie and El.” “Ellie and El. Got it.” 

The pair of you both smiled before you wrapped an arm around her shoulder. 

It takes you a while to wander to the store that you like, the nice, quiet dress shop that people usually overlooked in their search for the Macy’s and Sear’s on the other end of the mall, so when you finally stepped in, only a few people milled about. 

As always, you take a stroll around the floor, looking for any colors or patterns that excite you. Lately, you have been into simple things, which is not the style right now. But as you reach the end of a rack you spot it, the royal blue fabric peeking out among the other kaleidoscope of colors. You can't help but smile at the subtle ruffles on the sleeve, and the satin feel of the fabric, shining in the bright lights of the store. 

Perfect. 

It was perfect. 

For years and years of living in the drab colors of the lab, and having no form of self expression, these moments meant everything to you, being able to pick something you love, being able to feel pretty and beautiful and important were the most important things you have taken away from the freedom you had run to. 

Hopper, bless him, worked hard to make sure you had everything you wanted or needed, that you felt heard and loved by him. 

You were difficult at first, having a hard time adjusting to having so much freedom, flinching every time Hopper raised his voice anything above a whisper, struggling to understand the cues of when to talk or when to move or help. 

You had appeared just before Sara was diagnosed, so the small amount of time it was you had with her, but you learned so much of how to be a kid from her. 

As you looked at yourself in the mirror in the perfect dress, you couldn't help but think about her, how she could have been here with you, how much she would have loved El, how she probably would have been friends with the party. How happy Hopper was. 

The pang in your chest hits you hard, but as time has gone on, you have learned how to turn that pain into gratitude, for the time you had with Sarah, for the love the two of you gave each other, and how much you owed your life to her. 

So you chose to honor her in moments like these, in buying the perfect dress, in laughing with Steve, and going to the homecoming dance. 

Shit, you think. Who the hell is Steve going to find for your date? 

== 

Meanwhile, Steve was freaking the fuck out. How the hell could he have told you that he was going to find you a date?

He wanted to date you, not one of his pain in the ass friends that was too jockey or too loud or too rude for you. 

No one was going to be good enough for you. 

Steve was never good at playing it cool, the only hail mary he ever received was your first week at Hawkin’s, and the fact that he managed to squeak out that he didn’t know people moved here. 

Which of course was a fucking lie, and a bad one at that. 

The truth was, he was head over heels for you the moment he saw you, but when the two of you got along so well and became so intertwined, he never wanted to ruin what the two of you had, so he tucked the love and hope into his heart. 

But now, with school coming to an end so quickly, and your future so bright ahead of you, and what seemed like the world trying to constantly end itself with weird ass demon monsters and magical girls, the love is starting to claw itself back out. 

And he’s having a hell of a time trying to tame it. 

He had three days to find you a date, and the selfish part of him is simply not letting that happen. 

Steve nervously steps into the school on Wednesday, hands pushing his hair back from his face, eyes looking around for you or a potential date- whichever comes first, I guess, he thinks to himself. As he wanders down the hall, he sees the new pain in the ass- Billy- walking down the hall toward him. Internally, he rolls his eyes and pretends not to see him, but suddenly, just as you come into view at your locker, Billy makes a B-line for you. 

“Oh my fucking god.” Steve doesn’t even realize he says this aloud as he picks up the speed to hear what he had to say to you. 

“Hey Hopper.” Billy says, leaning against the locker, eyes twinkling with something Steve couldn’t place. 

==

You look up from your locker, a spark of irritation shooting up your back. Why the fuck is this guy talking to you? All he’s done since he’s gotten here is cause problems. You, a straight A student, even in the midst of monster hunting, are not even sure if he even goes to class. 

“Uh, hi?” You say to him. 

“I was just wondering if you were going to the dance this weekend, thought you might want to-” 

Steve nearly rams into you, skidding to a stop, just as he reaches you. 

“Steve!” You yelp out, shocked at his sudden appearance. 

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just that- I- I found your date!” 

Shit, he did not mean to say that. He turns sharply to Billy, “Sorry Hargrove, she’s got a date to the dance.” A look of murder crosses Billy’s face at these words. But before he can respond, Steve takes your hand and guides you away to homeroom. 

“C’mon, Ellie.” 

You're in shock, but before you can react you open your mouth. 

“Thank GOD you showed up, no way would I go anywhere with that creep.” 

Steve lets out a laugh at this, “Anytime Ellie. He’s actually the worst. The kids say that he has a little sister, but that she’s actually pretty cool, rides a skateboard and stuff.” 

“Oh! I’ve seen her, she skates over to the middle school in the mornings after she rides with Billy here. The little redhead.” Steve hums. 

“Maybe the kids will befriend her, and we’ll get the good gossip on how messed up he really is.” 

You laugh at this, bright and unexpected. Steve laughs with you, his hand still in yours, thumb brushing over the top of your hand. 

The moment dies down, and all that is left is you and Steve standing in front of your homeroom holding hands. 

He yanks back quickly, eyes wide. “Well, see you later!” is all he gives you before taking off to the next door and nearly jumping in. 

It leaves you a little dumbfounded, but you can't help but smile at the ridiculous boy you call your best friend. 

As you're turning into your classroom, you realize that you never got to ask him about the date he found.

== 

The roar of the homecoming game makes your body shake, the excitement builds up in your chest as you follow the yells and banging of the drums, eyes checking to see if Steve is also having fun every few moments. He looks bored, but every time he sees you looking over he gives you the fake ass smile paired with eye contact that he uses when he pretends that someone is saying something great. All you can do is smile back at this and nudge his side, which earns you a genuine smile. 

The student section is the most exciting part of the game, as usual, the Hawkins Tigers Football Team actually sucks, so the hooting and hollering of the student section makes your night worthwhile. Well, that, and Steve’s attempt to have fun at the football game, the comments on how terrible that throw or pass was, on how the cheerleaders keep hiking their skirts up to show more leg, on how Shelly Burns is practically humping David Mack’s back as she cheers and jumps in the stands. It’s in these pockets of time you truly feel like you belong here, with Steve, as if he is the only person in this world that makes you feel like you can be your true self around. 

You run your thumb over where your six is marked into your skin. A reminder of the past, but here and now, it represents how far you have come. 

In a moment of boldness, you turn and take Steve’s hand and swipe your thumb over the top. 

“Thanks Steve.” You say, just as the buzzer for the game goes off. 

== 

Nothing more came of this but Steve was still buzzing the morning of homecoming, and last night confirmed that his plan was in fact, not that stupid afterall. 

He had decided after a moment in the hallway outside of homeroom, that he was going to show up as your date for the dance. 

Straightening the blue tie he chose after you told him about your dress, he checked for what seemed the hundredth time that day that he had the corsage to give you. 

Well, he thought. It’s now or never. 

== 

You stood nervously by the door, eyes peering out the window every few moments to check for Steve’s beamer to come down the driveway. 

“You look pretty.” El says, a smile on her face as she looks up at you, Hopper right behind her. 

“Thank you. I bet one day you’ll find an even better dress.” 

Her eyes light up at this, the prospect of a normal life delighting her. 

“I would go to the dance with Mike.” She says. 

“Well, when that day happens, I’ll make sure to take you dress shopping myself.” You smile at her, Sarah tugging at the back of your mind, but knowing El deserved just as much. The two of you smiled at each other, the sisterly bond the two of you shared connecting you in this moment. 

“Let’s take your picture Ellie.” Hopper says, his eyes soft. You stood up a little straighter, and gave Hopper your best smile for the photo, he snapped the shot, afterward calling out for El to join in. She looked up at you, excitement dancing in those big brown eyes. She jumped in next to you, wrapping your arm around her waist to pull her in. After Hopper took the photo, he called out happily, “That’s one for the wall!” El giggles, gleaming with excitement. 

The three of you talk quietly for the next few minutes, the crunch of tires on the gravel on the driveway disrupting the special moment. El, much to her chagrin, sinks away into her room and Hopper moves around to sit on the couch. 

Steve’s beamer comes into view, and to your surprise, he is the only one who jumps out of the car. 

As you watch him approach, you see he is beaming from ear to ear, but the steps he is taking and his hands running through his hair tells you he is insanely nervous. 

You pull the door open as he steps up onto the porch, and he stops dead in his tracks when he gets a full view of you in your dress. 

“Hey!” His voice comes out a little high and squeaky, and you giggle, “I- You look beautiful Ellie.” 

You smile, “Thank you Steve. You look pretty good yourself.” He gives you a nervous smile. 

“Ellie listen I- I’m your date to the dance. I’ve liked you from the moment I met you, and the idea of you going to this dance with anyone else makes me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t bring myself to let anyone else take you. If you don't want to go with me I totally understand but-” 

“Steve, there is no one else in this entire world I wanted to be with.” You cut him off. 

The moment of silence hangs heavy, but you suddenly remember the boutonniere in your hand. 

“May I?” you finally say, holding it up. He holds up his corsage. 

“Only if you let me.” 

Your heart seemed to swell in your chest. Steve Harrington was your date to the homecoming dance. 

Steve Harrington was your date to the homecoming dance! 

== 

From then on out the two of you were not only inseparable, but also so annoyingly in love that the gang, now including Max, teased the two of you relentlessly about it. 

And El, well, the monsters once again appeared, and she once again saved the world, and now it was time for her own dance.

Finally.

The two of you went dress shopping at the very same shop you got your dress from, Hopper agreeing to drop you and El off at the mall, only with Steve as an escort, of course. 

Steve couldn’t stifle his laughter as he watched El absolutely buzz with excitement. You grinned yourself, managing to contain the excitement of taking your sister dress shopping for her very first dance. 

She takes forever and tries on everything, but you and Steve don’t dare to rush her. There is nothing the two of you can think of that could persuade you to stop her from enjoying herself. She deserved this more than anything. 

After what seemed like hours, El comes out of the dressing room in a darling blue dress, the pink details bringing out the rosiness of her cheeks. She’s beaming from ear to ear. She just stands there, swaying back and forth in the dress. Finally, you ask, 

“Is that the one?” She can only nod her head. 

Steve looks at her, a smile tugging on his lips, “Okay, let’s go get ready for a dance!” 

== 

Steve takes Dustin, and you stay behind to get El ready. After an hour of her squirming over the makeup and the curlers, she finally comes out of her room, ready to go. 

“Pretty?” She asks nervously. 

You and Hopper look at each other before answering simultaneously. 

“Beautiful.” 

Steve and you hover by the door after everyone is in and dropped off. 

“You know,” he says, “We make a good team. Look at our kids! All grown up.” He pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. 

You giggle, hand coming up to wrap it around his. 

“Yeah, I guess we do.” 

Steve leans in and kisses you, the two of you walking out the doors of Hawkins Middle School into the night. 

You and Steve together, El at the dance- 

Couple of things: my OC is Eleanor, you’ll see her again. These are written as x reader. She goes by El and Ellie, depending on how I’m feeling. Ellie was in the maze with the boys- I know original. *eye roll* but after coming off a really bad break up I found comfort in writing. This one is bittersweet, hope you enjoy.

Tw: suicidal thoughts, dead newt

Newt x reader

For Him

The sun dips below into the horizon and you sit in silence on the beach.

You cannot believe you are here, that this is the ending of your story. That you now sit in this safe haven alone, years later, where the dream you once waited for so patiently died.

Alone, you were alone in this world.

Newt was dead, and you were alone, facing the rest of your life this way.

Alone.

It hurts every fiber of your being to be here like this. A part of you died along with him, having come back with the cure in your hands, having been moments away from success, only to find a knife through his heart and his best friend completely broken.

It still plays in your nightmares, even when Minho and Thomas are there to pull you out.

You often wish you had died along with him.

Minho and Thomas also know this. They don’t let you alone for long, make sure any dangerous or sharp task is given to someone else. They constantly hover around, even now you know one of them is sitting higher up on the beach, watching you.

You don’t mean to be this way, but everything has seemed so pointless since arriving, you have found no interest in the prospect of creating this safe haven like everyone else has. You have made no attempt to connect with the others that made it, you simply do what you have to do and keep to yourself. The only people you speak to are your fellow gladers. Minho, Thomas, Frypan, even Brenda. You don’t bother to connect with others.

You know this isn’t okay, that this isn’t helping yourself or anyone, but you know that it may be better off in the end. Less people to miss you, less people to have regretted not keeping a closer eye on you.

There are some days where you don’t want to kill yourself, but there are days where you wish only for that comfort of death to find you. Thomas and Minho make it hard to admit this, the people you rely heavily on, the people who watch over you, just as they watched over Newt in his final days, you don’t want them to find you. You don’t want them to think they have failed or have any regrets about taking care of you.

So you stay, for them, even if some days you can't even get out of bed, or you want nothing more than to be with Newt again.

“Ellie.” Minho calls from behind you, you were right- you always are- you turn to look at the boy, more of a silhouette in the growing darkness than a person, “Let’s go up.”

I know you want to follow the sun into the ocean. But come back instead. He seems to mean, so you make yourself stand and walk back up the dune to him.

Minho has been softer since arriving at the safe haven, you know a part of it is the grief that lays heavily on his shoulders, the same thoughts and nightmares of Newt playing behind his eyes as yours. But there was also something else, something you had never quite seen before.

Love. Tenderness. Acceptance.

The safe haven has allowed Minho to rest in a way that he cannot remember, before, it was always run, protect, fight. But now, with all the previous threats gone, he seems to be able to connect to parts of himself that were never available before.

He’s softer with you, more patient, a new relationship the two of you have never shared before. You fought like siblings, bickered and talked over one another, but always with a sense of understanding that the two of you would come back together, that you would stick together when it came down to it.

And here you were- coming down to it.

When you reach Minho, he wraps an arm around you and the two of you walk back toward the center of camp, where the fire glows bright. As you pass others they greet you and Minho with smiles and waves and simple hellos, you keep your eyes downcast as Minho replies to each one.

He's thriving here.

You're happy for him, you are, but the despair continues to eat you inside out, making it hard to even form a connection with the person you've known as long as you could remember.

Minho leads you to a seat at the edge of the fire, where Thomas, Frypan, and Brenda sit, Jorge as usual nowhere to be found. They’re laughing about something one of the others said, as other kids hoot and holler around you.

Noise has become a lot for you lately, you prefer the silence of being alone.

“Hey Ellie, hey Minho,” Thomas greets as the two of you sit down, “How was the sunset? Seemed pretty from over here.”

“Was nice. Lots of color tonight. Not a cloud in the sky.” Minho replies. Thomas turns to look in your eyes, but when you don't respond, he gives a small smile in return.

“Ellie, I don't think you've missed one yet.” Thomas says, leaning forward to accept a bowl of tonight's supper from another person. He leans over you to hand it to Minho who nods in thanks, then he takes the next one and hands it to you.

“I’ll make sure to go with you to the one tomorrow, I got sucked into helping build that new building on the south side today, and by the time I realized it was time, it was too late to make it over.”

Thomas, while not quite doing as well as Minho, is still settling in nicely to the camp, though he has always been a leader, so sitting and wallowing was never in his DNA to begin with. He has better days but many are still marred with the grief and loss that you feel.

You wonder how he does it, he’s lost so many more than you have.

You just shrug your shoulders in reply and let the conversation of others wash over you. You don't particularly care if Thomas comes to the sunset with you, though you know if he does he'll sit with you in the sand instead of giving you space like Minho does. The pair of you often find yourselves crying over Newt together, Minho does a better job of hiding it than the two of you, but you watch as Thomas carries Newt’s note with him everywhere he goes.

Thomas and Minho have wondered aloud many times now if you ever received a note, something to hold on to, something that Newt used to say goodbye to you. Your answer every time had been no, but not for the reason some might think. You had this rule in the maze when he was a runner and you still worked as a med jack, you never said goodbye at any point. Never. Goodbye meant you weren't coming back, goodbye was an ending. Newt had tried, once. But after that the two of you never used it. Newt had confided in you first when he first saw the infection spreading, quietly the two of you talked, about your hopes, your dreams, the plans for the future, for all of the what ifs and miracles that could happen. The truth was, you don't need a note for Newt to say goodbye, the two of you had done it long before he was even dead. You knew his hopes for you after his death, you knew what he wanted to say to you, knew how much he loved you and you him. Nothing had been left unsaid.

On your worst days, you revisit that quiet memory, of the hard floor beneath your backs, of the stars in the sky, you remind yourself he didn't want to leave you, that he loved you more than anything, that he wanted you to live.

You used that to keep you going. Newt wanted you to live, to find another love, to have babies, to be happy.

On your worst days, you used it as a promise, for Newt. You would live for Newt.

So you did, you ate meals, you slept, you watched the sun set every day. You did it because you knew if he were there with you, he would expect you to do these things, for yourself, for him.

“Ellie?” Minho said, a hand coming up to your back, “You ready for bed? I think I’m going up.” The bowl was still full of the supper you didn't touch, but you nodded anyway. You had eaten your lunch today, that would be good enough.

You and Minho walked from the still rowdy group at the fire up the hill to the tent that Thomas and Minho had pitched for your group. The tent was larger than the others, but the five cots inside still seemed like a tight squeeze. You had taken the one in the corner, not caring that Minho’s own head sat mere inches from yours or that sometimes yours and Thomas' toes brushed in the night. It felt safe and comfortable in this unfamiliar place. A simple comfort that you had not expected.

“One day we’ll build a proper shelter.” Minho mutters as he pulls his boots off his feet on the mat that was laid beneath the beds. You follow suit, unconcerned of the current arrangements, and pull back the pile of blankets on your cot.

The pair of you lay in silence, the distant laughter blending with the lap of the ocean waves.

It was hard, but each sunset and each quiet night on the cot opened your soul the smallest bit, each gentle touch from Minho drawing you back into the light.

===

It takes years, but eventually you come back to yourself. Newt, still tucked away in your heart, but not all consuming like it once was.

You and Minho grow close, talking turning into gentle kisses, touches turning into something more. The pair of you know each other's pain, the pair of you know the place where Newt lives inside of you, the pair of you find new pieces of yourselves to give each other, something that could have only been found in the safe haven.

You heal, you laugh, you begin to love one another in a way you never thought possible.

You watch Thomas and Brenda come together, watch them build a shelter and declare each other their own. You watch them love children. You watch them grow older.

You do the same, though it takes longer for you and Minho to admit feelings, to let your world know that you have moved on, that you have found a new way to love, a new person to give your heart to.

The shelter you build together is ridiculous, larger than the others, two stories high. Nothing simple can be said about it. But, it is where you love each other, it is where you love your dear children, it is where you share your stories of Newt, never letting his spirit die, making sure your babies know of the man who brought you and Minho together, how he will always hold a special place in their hearts, in the safe haven.

The little girl asks a lot about Newt, what he was like, if he would have liked her. The little boy is more timid to ask, knowing his name sake is held to high regards by all, worried he may never fill the shoes he was named after.

You and Minho reassure him that he will do great things, that being kind, protecting each other, and doing what's right will make his stars align. The smallest of the three does not know of him yet, but she will.

Bucky x reader

First ever post- be nice

… is this fandom dead?

Tw: Cursing? Injured reader?

The mission went terribly terribly wrong. Tony failed to get to his target in time and you weren’t able to cut the power until it was too late.

All hell immediately broke lose, the agents made it to you that were planned. You were just able to cut the power before they shot you.

Everyone else finished the mission, you crawled out of the burning building hoping that at least one of your fellow Avengers was nearby to help.

Steve and Bucky appeared out of smoke and flames to aid in your rescue. Bucky wouldn’t look you in the eye the entire what out of the facility.

—-

“How could you fuck up so badly?!” Tony screamed at you the minute the three of you made it to the jet.

“You had one fucking job! All you had to do was cut the power!”

His screaming just barely cut over the ringing in your ears. None the less, you felt your blood immediately boil. Bucky’s grip on you tightened.

“Me fuck up? You took so god damn long getting to your position that I physically couldn’t cut that power unless you wanted to fucking die! You have any idea how many safe guards that facility had in place to ensure that their people wouldn’t get killed? How many boogie traps we triggered? Didn’t you stop to fucking think why the fucking building exploded?!”

Everyone stares at you in shock. No one ever argued like that with Tony.

But you weren’t even close to done, “you should be saying thanks Ana for fucking saving my life and thinking on your toes and getting fucking shot to ensure my safety!”

Roughly, you shove Bucky and Steve’s hands away from you, apply pressure to the wound and disappear into the med bay of the jet.

No one moves. No one dares to speak.

Bucky and Tony stare each other down before Bucky breaks off to follow you.

—-

Bucky finds you on your hands and knees struggling to breathe. From what you’ve gathered, your lung has either gotten punctured by the bullet, or was beginning to collapse. You knew you didn’t have much time before things went bad quick but you couldn’t even get in a full breath, let alone call for help.

“Shit, Ana, shit. Can you hear me?!” Bucky’s heart hammers heavy on his chest, what the fuck happened? You were just fine?

“Bucky.” You manage to gasp out your eyes wide with panic and pain.

Bucky starts screaming. For anyone, anything. He even gets the damn AI thing involved. Within seconds everyone is surrounded you. Steve is the first to jump into action, practically shoving you onto your back.

Bucky hovers just to your left, pulling everything out of the first aid kid.

“Yep shit the bullet didn’t exit. Must of shifted and is filling her lung with blood.” Tony says a device you don’t recognize in one hand and the other feeling around your rib cage.

Bucky begins chanting to you, over and over again.

“It’ll be ok Ana, we’ve got you. It’ll be okay.” You definitely do not believe a word he says but you focus on that and his beautiful face to help you keep from passing out.

You has always loved looking at Bucky. He was always nice to look at and the pair of you understood being used. Being in pain. Doing others bidding’s. You were always on the same page. Always had each others backs. Recently the feelings moved far deeper than friends. Allies. Your heart began to love him. To want him. To keep him. You never acted because you know the minute that happens everything could blow up in your face and you would once again be alone. So you kept your heart in a cage and the fantasy in your head.

And now you regretted everything.

You felt like death was coming.

You were dying and Bucky would never know.

The rest of the flight is a scramble to get you as stable as possible. You came in and out, and by the time you finally, finally, made it to the compound, not a single person didn’t have blood on them.

You’re blood.

You were in and out of it the entire time. A tube was placed down your throat and Steve squeezed the bag every few seconds to keep you breathing as Tony struggled with a needle to drain the blood out of your lungs.

Every fiber of your being was screaming with pain. Bucky had to hold you down when they put the tub in to intubate you. And practically laid across you the rest of the flight to keep you still enough for it to work.

“I’m so sorry.” Was buckys new mantra, his voice rough with the pain of having to hurt you.

—-

Arriving at the compound you immediately were loaded into a helicopter and air lifted to the hospital. The commotion before they sedated you was unbearable.

You weren’t like everyone else. There was nothing super about you. And your very normal human body was very much in critical condition.

You dreamed of Bucky while under. Of you and him together. Babies to hold, toddlers to watch run and play. The life you dreamed of played before your eyes and when you woke, Bucky was right there.

He sat in the chair next to the bed, clean clothes and showered. Not even remotely close to what you last remembered. But when you went to move a lot happened at once:

1. You physically could not move

2. You were still intubated

3. Every single alarm went off that you were connected t

But Bucky looked up where he was slumped over staring at the floor. He met your eyes.

He got up and started yelling too.

A nurse came in, her young face masked with a smile.

“Hello. Welcome back.” She said to you before diving in to the medical parts of what was going on. “You’re ok. And you’ll be ok. The bullet wound you sustained moved and severed an artery in your lung, which in turned filled it was blood and began to collapse on top of that. Some gnarly stuff, I know. So we fixed that all up, and as you probably remember, the intubation is helping your body heal by not having to work as hard, hopefully we’ll be getting you off of that soon. And as you also probably know, being intubated is not a comfortable experience. You have some drugs in your system that paralyzed you temporarily. Once you can breathe on your own again, that tube will come right out and the medicine will stop being administered. But I will say you’ve been so brave and it looks like your family has certainly got your back. Not one minute goes by that this fine gentleman or someone else is in that seat.” The nurse goes about adjusting your machines, Buckys hand slides into yours.

“I’ve got your back.” Is all he says before the medicine takes you away again.

—-

It takes a lot longer than expected to ween you off the intubation machine. Your body, your normal human body with a better than average brain, struggles to heal. They begin talking about putting you in a medical induced coma to help. Bucky crushes that as quickly as it comes.

“Absolutely not. She does not condone to that.”

“Mr Barnes? You are not her power of attorney, you cannot be making these decisions for her.”

“Look at her! Look at the way her eyes move when you say that! She is practically screaming no!”

The doctor sighs and looks to you, your eyes confirming exactly what Bucky is saying.

“Very well.”

—-

After four days, the tube comes out, and you can finally move again.

You have no voice, the tube completely rubbed your vocal cords raw.

Bucky brings you a notepad and paper to help.

‘I would like more ice chips please’ you write and show to him, he smiles, “Jesus even on the brink of death you’re still so polite.” He runs a hand up and down your thigh lovingly before pressing the button for the nurse. When she arrives he recites your order and she hurries off.

“You know,” Bucky begins, “it’s a shame that this happened because it totally blows over the fact you talked shit to Tony.”

You smile and nod, you are pretty proud of your self for standing up to him, especially since he was supposed to be your mentor, but instead has just expected you to figure it out as you went along.

“That’s my girl.”

—-

You finally leave after almost a month in the hospital bouncing between wards. When you return to the compound it is with strict instructions to take it easy.

Bucky quietly volunteers to take a leave of absence to help you.

At first it’s like all your dreams are coming true.

He even sleeps in the same bed as you so he can help you get to and from the bathroom at night.

One evening, deep deep into the night, the pain medication wearing off you turn to Bucky, who as you suspected, had never truly fallen asleep.

“I think I love you.” You hear yourself say.

He stays silent, a hand reaches over to push the hair out your face.

Finally he says, “walking into you actively dying was the worse thing that’s ever happened to me.”

It was a simple statement. But you knew so much more sat behind it.

“Having to face that reality of you not possibly making it made me realize that I have too much to loose when it comes to you. You keep me sane. You understand me like no one else does. You let me be when I need those moments. It’s like you’re a part of my soul. And watching you gasping on that floor made me realize that I would have followed you if you died that day.”

Liam: no, that car is top heavy! It’ll roll!

Cole: *rolling eyes* you’ll be fine

Car: *rolls*

Liam, shoulder dislocated, grumbling: I told you so