#ive been trying to not really talk about this show or look it up on tumblr mostly because like what if theres posts about it
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This really was our yumenosaki academyâĄ
#sooo baaad even if i graduate in summer theyre not giving me the diploma til end of 2024??#lets all brainstorm how i can get shu's human comedy monologue up on a poster advertising the grad show... for funsies really#its in my intro to the essay but it doesnt really have much to do with the visuals. which is what i'll need to submit for the posters#hmm well... no thatd look bad. i could go open indesign now but i dont want to i wanna go homeee#ive given up on caring about the project im just committed to the bit the target audience is me myself and its my requiem to art#but ive been telling people about my visual project and they all said theyre really excited to see it...? but it takes me months#of severe despair to get a good concept sorted out. im glad they all said they cant wait to see it... im curious myself#tomorrow ill try to play with recording it. then really lock in to the visuals#what are we thinking. digital spaceship or a real life installation?#the setting is you as the audience are an intergalactic truck driver passing by earth tuning in to the radio listening to a professor#studying humans give a talk about them. mini podcast ig? intergalactic cultural radio vibes?#you get it#so the audio is quite important but then also the setting#do i make it digital and ppl put on headphones and watch a screen?#or do i make it an installation irl#it wouldve been quite good if i made it in vr but i have 3 weeks no experience in the medium and um. well. yeah#i think it's a nice goodbye since i get to project my views on humanity through the alien and also he's a revamped version of#my first ever proper oc. carl the alien#isnt that a nice way to end this journey for now? i think so.
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22 isn't very much at all, I think.
#5am rambles#anyways ignore this as per usual im just thinking in a post that i'll delete soon. i just worry and writing it helps.#you ever wonder when you'll âgrow up'? and then realize youre not even fully grown?#that theres still more to learn in life and that the mistakes you make are just that? mistakes?#that you are still so very very young in a world that is so very very old?#im almost 23. barely a quarter of my lifespan. im still a child in a way- my brain not fully formed.#you ever wonder how many mistakes you can make before you figure something out?#I dont know much of anything really. that's the sad part. and the adults who were supposed to help me learn... didnt.#i was failed. and now im a failure. at almost not quite 23 years old. Maybe i wont be a failure in another few years.#i still have a while to go before I die. I'm not going to waste time thinking about it. im just going to try my best.#I have time. I can learn. Grace and patience are not endless but damn if i dont try to figure things out#first step though is meds and therapy tho. we're done with the pity party. some things you just have to accept are okay#cuz my whole life i was taught that being emotional is a weakness. its pathetic and stupid to be upset or angry about anything.#any time i wanted to show i was upset or angry i was 'wrong'. i was 'selfish' and 'dramatic'#so i suppressed and pretended i was fine. that i wasnt weak and pathetic. that i was good and not an annoyance or burden.#i am not weak. i am not pathetic. i am fine i am fine i am fine you dont need to worry about the inconvenience at your door.#sometimes the shame is so much that i cant look at myself or even think i deserve help. that therapy is for people with real problems.#that i feel like ill just be told im like this for attention or dramatics. that im such a disappointment and selfish too.#ive been a âproblemâ my whole life to the point i dunno if i CAN be fixed. that anxiety eats me alive every day.#therapy is supposed to give you methods to cope#i dunno if it'll work though. I forget my appointments a lot. i struggle to talk sometimes. i may be autistic but its hard to get diagnosed.#emotions are so hard to figure out.
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something difficult about writing/storytelling but only in short disconnected bursts is that writing anything longform is very difficult. there isn't as much time to practice long-term character development or subtlety (implying character instead of immediately clarifying) when its not really meant to go anywhere but a notes app. its a little frustrating...i'd love to do something more longform though. i've considered maybe just doing some short writing scenes in my various original universes a lot recently mostly because i just havent had time to draw anything fancy recently </3 maybe that would be something...
#briefly talked about it with a coworker today bc i mentioned my brother makes music#and she got excited because she paints and she showed me some of her work (beautiful btw!!!)#and said she hopes he pursues music and doesnt get his heart crushed by retail like we do#we still make things but ive been thinking about it...it really is like#i feel like ive had less TIME to make things but ive also developed more interest in my own ideas#and in constructing them on their own terms. its hard to describe and even harder to share because its#not churning out fanart for a response i guess?#i dont know. i do feel more satisfied with what im planning but theres less to share#anyway i promised her i'd show her my art sometime so essentially i have to flee the country now#she does lovely work she paints pictures of pets and it seems so nice. she seems so happy with it!#its like...i love it. im a little jealous of it. i feel so much pressure to Do Something New with my art#try to craft scenes and settings (i think setting is such ann important part of storytelling but i have so much trouble drawing it!)#and try new compositions and poses and just not have everything look the same all the time#its led to a lot of work im proud of but its also hard to create under those expectations...#i wish i could find a niche and settle into it comfortably. i think fun character drawings could be that for me#but its...it frustrates me to post those because it feels like if its easy and i like doing it and how it turns out then im not trying#okay i think im done now. sorry for these rambling introspective posts lately lol im#trying to warm back up to posting so i can use this website again (despite how very very bad it is)...#i want to see my frieeeeeends <//////3 i want to be here without running away <///3
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istg if josh marries nora im gonna be so pissed lol im so sick of her, whyd they kill off the person that actually seemed better for him
#like she was fine in the 1st season but i stopped caring about her in the 2nd season and now shes just. annoying#like she keeps choosing literally anyone except for josh when it comes to other people in their werewolf lives#and now she thinks aiden would just unprompted send a child to the hospital by bashing her head into the wall? like huh?#whats the logic nora. why do you think he would do that.#ive been trying to not really talk about this show or look it up on tumblr mostly because like what if theres posts about it#and the posts include spoilers or something yknow#but OH MY GOSH IM SO SICK OF HER JOSH DO NOT PROPOSE TO HERRR#he literally deserves someone better idc. whyd they kill his ex.#did her actress just need to be somewhere else like... she didnt suck. and he was finally telling her his secret and everything.#my post#liveblogging#being human#im in the middle of s3 btw rn so like. idk what happens next#what reason like actually does she have to believe that aiden would do that??#its one thing to think he would suck someones blood that he shouldnt. like thats fair.#but *that*?? fuck off?#i hate when parents/guardians cant accept that their kid can do fucked up things and be awful. theyre still human(well...) idiot#this is making me maaaddd i was finally coming back around to her and then she does all this
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Kiss It Better
Curly (mouthwashing) x reader
AN: No one asked for this but CURLY DESERVED BETTER-!
Sum: You were taking care of Curly, your partner, when you just had to ask him a question that was burning you as much alive as the cockpit burned him. Did he actually crash the ship?
Warnings: 18+, gore, medical situations, Jimmy, violence, just mouthwashing in general, ablism, lots of medical stuff (from someone that knows way to much about medical shit because of being in and out of the hospital all her life)
âMorning honey.â You would force yourself to smile. You had to. You had to for him. To give him hope like he always gave you. To be a little bit of real sunshine through the day. Just wanted to take care of him. Give Anya some kind of break.
A wheeze was your greeting.
Wasnât like it was his fault. He couldnât really speak right now. You wondered if he would ever speak again. You would miss his voice but itâs worth it for him to live. He will live, you knew he would. You would make sure of it.
âLetâs have a look at you.â You would grab the clipboard that Anya left for you and took a look over. The small little list to help you understand how to care for his issues. When to wash him, what time his medications were, whatever routine was needed for that day. Was your Bible so to speak. You followed it to the last ink splotch.
âYour bandages donât look to need to be changed yet, your IV bag needs to be changed, Iâll check your catheter, and yada yada yada. Wanna try and swallow today? Maybe if you can swallow some water I can grind up the pain pills into powder for you. Wanna try?â
He gave two distinct blinks for yes.
âWonderful. Let me do this routine, so you can mentally prepare.â You would explain, as you went to slip on the latex gloves. Didnât want to risk transferring some kind of infection. Heâs already fighting for his life as it is. No need to make it harder.
You would first change out his IV bag, since he needed to stay as hydrated and fed nutrients as possible, before working on the awkward catheter. Luckily Anya made it very easy to use. She had opted for a condom catheter since she didnât want to put himself at anymore risk to infections, and pain, as possible. Seemed the trauma made it rather impossible to control his bowls anyway so it worked out. All you had to do was drain the bag, wash it, and reattach it to the side of the table. Wasnât like he was going to be moving around much anyway.
âSo Daisuke was showing me his gameboy. Teaching me about how the lore works and all that. I really had no idea what he was talking about, but itâs better than Swansea snoring.â You laughed, and did your best to keep yourself peppy. To help Curly feel somewhat involved with society. To not just be trapped in the med bay alone. Daisuke and Swansea would visit, and Anya did what she could medically, but sometimes you just need someone to talk to.
âThink itâs a rouge like game. Thatâs nice. Helps keep you entertained with wanting to break through more and more dungeons in one session.â You rambled, before reattaching the bag. Had you sigh in relief to see you didnât mess up the chord. Some urine had already started to fill the bag. Must have been triggered by the new IV. Good good. Everything was correct.
âYou ready?â You asked, as this was always the hardest part. Getting medication in him. Anya would do her best but you couldnât blame her for struggling. Itâs such a mental tax to try and take care of someone but it results in more pain. You were willing to take that burden. You were his partner after all. You felt itâs only fair you take care of him. Gave Anya some breathing room to actually care for herself. She deserved to take care of herself to.
With two clear blinks you would get to work.
You would slip your hand under his back, and forced him to sit up. He groaned in pain, and tried his best to keep his head upright, as you two tried to work together. To survive this. To try and fight through.
âYou are doing so well.â You reassured, as your brought the water bottle up to his open mouth. He was able to let his head hang back, and did what he could to open his throat. Was awkward, but he managed to do it. He took a proper swallow of water. You could hardly hide your excitement.
âYou did it! Oh my god you did it!â You couldnât help but kiss his cheek. It hurt, of course, but he very much felt it was worth it. He had his own pride in being able to do some kind of basic human function again.
You would lay him back down, and was quick to grind up medication to put in the water bottle. You couldnât wait to tell Anya his progress. You were positive the rest of the crew would be happy to hear the progress.
WellâŚ..Most of the crew.
You used your anger towards Jimmy to help you grind the pain killers into powder. Oh how you hated him. You knew deep down he was responsible for the crash. You knew he was. You werenât sure why he would be, but you just knew that Curly would never. If he had to, for whatever reason, he would have come on to the intercom to inform everyone to prepare for a crash. He would have done something. Anything.
What purpose would there be in crashing the ship?
Jimmy was his copilot. He would be the only other person to have access to the cockpit. He had to have been involved somehow. There had to have been something going on. You just knew it.
You just wish you had proof.
You sighed, as you would shake up the powder in the bottle. Made sure it was fully dissolved to avoid any issues with it going down his throat.
You just couldnât understand.
Why would Jimmy crash the ship?
You would return back to curly, and do the same routine again. Slow, and small, drips into his throat. Would take a while, and would make your arm beg for death, but this would make life easier for Curly. Thatâs all that mattered. A arm cramp is worth it to help Curly survive.
âCurlyâŚ..Since you are more lucid now IâŚ.I just gotta ask something.â
The way his eye darted towards you said he knew what you were going to ask. Knew that itâll be asked. He knew, and he couldnât help but try and look towards the door. As if afraid someone would walk in.
That had you very concerned.
ââŚ..Jimmy crashed the ship, didnât he?â You whispered. Tried to be as hush as possible, in case someone did overhear. Was just the slow drips of the water into his dry mouth, and you.
One blink.
Two blinks.
âI fucking knew it.â You gritted your teeth, as you felt stupid to ever even have the slightest doubt that any possible reality there would be that Curly would do such a thing.
âI wish I could ask you why. DoâŚDo you know why?â You had to ask. You just needed to know. Know if Jimmy was as dangerous as you thought.
One blink.
T-
âHowâs the captain doing?â
You would turn your head sharply, and saw Jimmy. Just standing there. God you were terrified how long he had been there. Did he hear what you asked? Didnât seem so. Jimmy was a very aggressive person. He snapped at the slightest tone shift. If he heard you ask a question like that you wouldnât be talking now.
âHeâsâŚ.Alive.â You were caught rather off guard. You didnât know what to say. You were scared of him. You had to be brave, though. You had a better chance at defending yourself. Curly couldnât.
You would hear his heavy foot steps come closer, and out right feel his body heat against yours. Just looking over your shoulder. Was like this burning shadow over you. Made you feel like youâll be squashed like a bug.
âHas he been able to talk yet?â
Thatâs a weird question to ask. Why not ask how heâs feeling, what progress heâs made, how his vitals are. Why is him talking on the front of his mind?
Because Curly knew something he shouldnât.
âNo. I think heâs lost his voice for good. I donât think heâs ever going to speak again.â You lied, as you finished the test of the bottle. Returned your partner back on the table, and spun around. Nose to chest to the man. Had you terrified, but you must be brave. For Curly.
âDamn. Rough for him. No more barking orders, huh?â Jimmy tried to joke, but you could only give an awkward laugh at. Mostly to keep from pissing him off.
If heâs willing to crash a ship what else is he willing to do?
âDid you need something?â You managed to force out, as you grabbed the clipboard. Just trying to find an excuse to not look directly at Jimmy. To have a motive as to why you would stay in the med bay longer than most. Just anything to get Jimmy to leave you two alone.
âHey, I give a shit to about him. Is it criminal to care about my friend?â He snapped at you, and it made you grab your clipboard tighter. You swore he seemed to smirk at seeing you so startled. Like he got off to the idea that he got the captains sweetheart scared.
That heâs the new boss.
âNever said that. You are the co pilot and new captain. You-â âPilot now. As if heâs ever going to steer a ship again. Not even a wheelchair with those stumps.â He snorted, as you wanted to smack him across the face.
âYesâŚ.As the new Pilot and Captain I would figure you would be swamped in work. Like finding a way for us to contact help. Kinda the biggest priority after Curly. Anya and I are busy with him. You, Daisuke, and Swansea can handle the rest.â
You noticed how he seemed to roll his eyes about Anya. As if he couldnât care less about the woman. Made you curious on what kind of beef he would have with her. Sheâs Anya! Who hated her?
âYeah. Guess you are right there.â He muttered, as if it was never on his mind. Never an option that they could escape. Oh how you were getting chills.
âKeep on trucken then. Take care of our Captain Cripple. His ass needs all the help his stumpy limbs can get.â He would give him a once over, before looking at you. You made sure to keep your eyes to the clipboard instead. All you did was nod in acknowledgment, before he left.
âWhat are we going to do, Curly?â You sighed, as you would just lay next to him in defeat. What can you do? You had no idea. Curly was always such a good captain. Made you regret never paying more attention to how he worked the cock pit. Maybe if you did you could be more useful.
As you were full of worry and regret, Curly would weakly try and turn his head. Naked teeth were against his cheek. A attempt to kiss your cheek the best he could.
You smiled at the gesture, and made sure to be careful with snuggling your face into his shoulder.
âIâve got you, and you got me. We can do this. I know it.â You reassured you both, as you closed your eyes. There to wait until his pain medication kicked in, so he could sleep.
As you relaxed, you couldnât help but swear something was strange about his breathing.
It was likeâŚ.He was saying words.
You would focus as hard as you could on your ears, as he would drift in and out of his buzzed state. Fighting to stay awake, but sleep coming for him.
âAâŚ.aâŚnâŚyaâŚ..KnâŚ.owsâŚâŚâ
Part 2
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing anya#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing curly#mouthwashing jimmy#Captain curly#curly x reader#captain curly x reader#mouthwashing x reader#x reader#horror#horror game#indie game#indie horror game#indie horror#x reader horror#horror fiction#medical horror#anxiety#fear#I love this game so much#Anya deserved better#everyone deserved better#except Jimmy#fuck you Jimmy#eat shit and die#pony express#tulpar#poor baby#rip curly
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when you start to ignore them â seventeen as your crush
hyung line / maknae line
minghaoâs not dumbâhe felt it when things shifted. the way you suddenly stopped giving him those small gifts, the attention, the lingering gazes when he caught your eye. he didnât know why, but he knew something had changed. he never mentioned it, though. minghaoâs never been one to chase attention, but yours? yeah, he got used to it. maybe too used to it. the weird part is, he started to crush on you too. heâd look forward to your little gifts, the way youâd brighten up around him. he thought heâd play it cool, but now? now he feels like heâs the one waiting.
one afternoon, after another day of you barely acknowledging him, he corners you. his voice is calm, but thereâs something sharp beneath the surface. âdid something happen between us?â you blink at him, caught off guard by the sudden confrontation. âno⌠why?â
he tilts his head, eyes narrowing. âyou stopped talking to me. stopped giving me attention.â his lips curl into a smirk, but it doesnât reach his eyes. âi thought you liked me.â the words hang in the air, and for a second, you swear you see a flicker of irritation in his eyes. âor was that just for fun?â
mingyuâs used to girls crushing on him. heâs tall, handsome, and charming without even trying, so it never surprises him when people start showing him attention. he thought you were just like everyone else at firstâanother person fawning over him. but then, you stopped. and fuck, thatâs when he realized it was different.
he never thought much of it before, but when your gifts stopped showing up, when you stopped hanging around him, it hit him hard. he didnât expect to miss it, didnât expect to miss you. but here he is, sitting in the practice room, scrolling through his phone, wondering why youâre suddenly ignoring him. âhey,â he catches you outside the dorms one evening, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. âyouâve been⌠quiet.â
you raise an eyebrow. âquiet?â
he nods, swallowing. âyeah. you used to, yâknow, be around more.â he glances away, almost embarrassed. âi kinda miss it.â thereâs a pause, and when you donât respond right away, mingyuâs chest tightens. âdid i do something wrong? or⌠were you just over it?â his voice is softer than usual, less cocky, and it makes you realize how much he actually liked having you around. maybe more than he let on.
seokmin doesnât take it well. when you stop giving him attention, he feels it immediately. itâs like a cloud settles over him, and he doesnât know how to shake it.
he tries to laugh it off at first. âoh, what did I do now y/n-nie?â he jokes, flashing you one of his signature grins. but when you donât laugh, when you just shrug and walk away, his smile falters. it eats at him for daysssss!! he hates it. hates how much heâs thinking about you, about the way youâve been avoiding him. he misses your presence, your gifts, your attention.
finally, he canât take it anymore. one night, after practice, he pulls you aside, his expression serious for once. âwhy are you ignoring me?â
âiâm notââ
âyou are,â he cuts you off, his voice a little sharper than usual. âyou used to care, you used to⌠i donât know, you used to make me feel special. now itâs like i donât even exist to you.â his voice cracks.
âwhat the hell ive done?! or are you just tired of me?â
seungkwanâs first instinct is to make you jealous. when he realizes youâve stopped giving him attention, stopped following him around, his pride takes a hit. so, he starts flirting with others more openly, trying to get a reaction out of you.
but it doesnât work. you donât even seem to care, and that only makes him more frustrated. after a week of his failed attempts, he finally gives up and decides to confront you. âwhatâs going on?â he asks one day, crossing his arms over his chest, clearly annoyed. âyouâve been ignoring me, and itâs pissing me off.â
you raise an eyebrow, not really in the mood for his theatrics. âpissing you off?â he huffs, rolling his eyes. âyeah. you used to be all over me, and now⌠nothing. did you find someone else or something?â
thereâs a pause, and for the first time, seungkwanâs usual confidence wavers. âi donât like it,â he admits quietly, his voice softer now. âi miss you.â itâs a rare moment of openness from him, and you can tell he means it.
âcan we⌠can we go back to how things were?â
vernon doesnât say anything for a while. he notices when you stop hanging around him, but heâs not the type to make a big deal out of it. he figures youâre just busy, or maybe youâve lost interest, and he tells himself itâs fine. but deep down he knows its not.
after a few days of silence, vernon starts to feel restless. he misses the small thingsâthe way youâd smile at him, the way youâd always bring him snacks, when you click your fingers on his face when he zooms out or laugh at his dumb jokes. without you around, everything feels off. he catches you one day after class, his hands shoved in his pockets as he looks at you. âsupâ, you good?â
âyeah, why?â
he shrugs, glancing away. âjust⌠youâve been kinda distant.â he pauses, trying to find the right words. âi donât like it. actually, i like having you around...â his voice is quiet, almost shy, and it takes you a second to realize heâs being serious. âi mean, i get it if youâre over it or whatever, butâŚâ he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. âi really miss you. thatâs all.â
chanâs reaction is instantaneous. the moment you stop giving him attention, he starts giving it right back. itâs like he canât stand the idea of losing your presence, so he tries to fill the gap himself.
suddenly, heâs the one following you around, offering you snacks, little gifts, even bubblegum. âhere, thought you might like this,â he says with a grin, holding out a pack of your favorite candy.
âuh, thanksâŚâ
he smiles, but thereâs a hint of nervousness in his eyes. âyouâve been kinda quiet lately. figured iâd return the favor, yâknow?â he keeps it up for days, going out of his way to get your attention, to make you smile. and when you finally ask him why heâs doing it, he just shrugs, his usual confidence slipping a bit.
âi missed you,â he admits softly, his eyes dropping to the floor. âyou used to do all this for me, and i didnât realize how much i liked it until you stopped.â thereâs a beat of silence before he looks up at you again, his voice quieter now. âi guess⌠i just wanted to remind you that i care too.â
#seventeen reactions#seventeen scenarios#seventeen headcanons#seventeen x reader#seventeen#seventeen imagines#seventeen smut#svt smut#seventeen fluff#svt imagines#seventeen angst#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x you#seventeen x y/n#seventeen x oc#seventeen fic#seventeen imagine#seungcheol x reader#jeonghan x reader#joshua x reader#junhui x reader#seokmin x reader#seungkwan x reader#vernon x reader#lee chan x reader#dino x reader#minghao x reader#mingyu x reader#hoshi x reader#wonwoo x reader
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Drabble for a protective logan of a pregnant!reader
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Pregnant!Reader
Warnings: Pregnancy, a bit of feral logan, childbirth..
A/N: ive had this prompt on my mind for a whileee however i donât think this will have a follow up cause i got kinda lazy towards the end
- He knows before you do honestly. Strong sense of smell and all that jazz. But also he senses your heart rate slightly increase even though youâre not doing anything
- You smell different..almostâŚsweeter? At least to him.
- A week after he noticed you tell him how you missed your period and he just just looks at you and nods like âduh, youâre pregnantâŚâ
- You still go to Jean to get an ultrasound and what do ya know, thereâs a bun in the oven!
- Immediately after itâs officially confirmed Logan forbids you to go on anymore missions or really doâŚanything..
- Going out with Storm? Where? Why? No, no, no stay here itâs too dangerous out there..
- He didnât let you lift anything, do chores, cookâŚ
- Nope nope nope just stay there.
- As time goes on you get a bit annoyed but youâll admit itâs cute seeing him like this.
- He cuddles with you every single night, arm protectively slung around your belly. He kisses it every night and then your forehead. Heâs so soft with you..
- As your bump started to show he just couldnât stop looking. He was surprisingly very excited to be a father. He was gonna raise this kid right. Protect them from any harm as much as he can. You included.
- Heâs always been protective over you but now?
- One day, You were trying to reach something and Scott comes by, noticing you need help and walks over to help you reach whatever you want. Unfortunately for him, Logan saw this from around the corner and also saw how Scott gently touched your side as he helped you.
- Logan saw red. He snarls and then lunged at Scott and damn near bites him. Scott jumps back a bit, startled by the sudden feralness.
- âDonât. Touch. Her. Again. Got it, Summers?â Logan growled angrily.
- Scott just nodded and then quickly left.
- You scolded Logan immediately after but Logan ignored you and just looked at you for any âmarksâ
- So after that no one was to ever touch you unless it was Jean doing a check up. Or another mutant if she couldnât.
- Logan didnât care. In his mind he was keeping you 100% safe. From harm..germsâŚwhatever
- Heâd make you wear his clothes so his âscentâ would be on you and also because your clothes were getting too tight
- Whatever you craved, heâd get it.
- If you wanted water at 4am, heâs up and going to get it immediately, like he wasnât just sleeping moments before
- Back hurting? Heâs now a licensed massage therapist.
- Someoneâs cooking food thatâs making you gag? Heâs going into the kitchen and scolding whoeverâs cooking.
- That one was a bit embarrassing but they never really minded and understood you were pregnant
- After a while you started to become more and more out of breath so now you reallyyyy couldnât do anything. You had to beg Logan to at least let you get some fresh air or something because staying in bed all day was not the answer even if your feet were swelling and you back was killing you.
- Heâd walk with you outside as you talked about your day and he just listened. Heâd ask about the baby and how you felt and how he felt about becoming parents
- He was more cuddly when you neared the end of your third trimester. Hugging you more, kissing you more, talking to your now huge stomach and rubbing it and feeling when the baby kicked
- You both didnât know if the baby was gonna be a mutant or not or the gender or anything but just knew it was healthy and that was honestly enough
- You decided to deliver at the mansion because well, the hospitals nearby did not like or tend to mutants at all..
- You started getting braxton hicks here and there and you knew the baby had dropped. It was getting hard to move and the mansion was on edge. Logan especially.
- Heâd pace around you as you groan and winced in pain but told him, âFalse alarm honeyâŚjust another hick..â
- But was it? What if itâs time? What if you two ignore this and then itâs too late? What if something is wrong and and-
- There was alot of calming Logan down now..reassuring youâre fine
- A week before you were due, you were thrown a baby shower.
- It was Rogues idea and everyone gave you a little something. Diapers, Toys, bottlesâŚ
- They had all your favorite foods from your pregnancy, even the super weird cravings
- You cried.
- Logan got mad when he saw you cry. âWho did this?? Why is she crying? Was it you, Summers? Why i outta-â
- You tell him youâre just very happy and emotional right now and not sad. And, no, Scott did nothing wrong so please put him down oh my goshâŚ
- Itâs true you were very emotional and hormonal the whole time and you were so ready to be done
- A week later, in the middle of the night you got up to use the bathroom for the 5th time. Not wanting to wake up Logan over and over just to walk to the bathroom, you went alone, waddling to the door.
- The second you got there though there you immediately started leaking. And you wouldâve been embarrassed of you didnât immediately have the worst braxton, noâŚ.this wasnât thatâŚthis was moreâŚ
- âLogan. Logan!â
- Logan jumped up and and ran over to you asking what happened and whatâs wrong..
- You start to tell him and suddenly youâre hit again with another contraction
- It was time.
- Logan woke up everyone he could after getting you tot he medical room.
- He left the students be but itâs not like they couldnât hear you yelling anyways
- He stood by you the entire time as you squeezed his hand and cried in pain. He almost growled at Jean hooking you up the machines but he knew it was to monitor if you and the baby were okay.
- He was so focused on you that he didnât care for everyone crowding also but when it was time to push he barked for everyone to get back even Jean
- He let you squeeze the life out of his hand as you pushed and encouraged you the whole time and wiped your forehead
- And after several minutes of this chaosâŚ
- âCongratulationsâŚyou guys are now officially parents!â Jean says as she holds the crying newborn baby.
- As she helped lay the baby on your bare chest, you and Logan just smiled at your child.
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#drabble#pregnant reader#xmen drabble#wolverine#wolverine x reader
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A lapdog at a farm - chapter 5
<-former chapter -AO3 link -next chapter -> Call of duty. My ko-fi, Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. WC: 6.3k
tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, it dies later on, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy
MDNI. MDNI. Dead dove do not eat.
Authors note: do note there will be the use of prong collars in this. Just like all the other fucked up stuff in this, i don't support that irl, but this is fiction. On a different note, it will probably be at least a week before I can give you another chapter lol, shit is happening, my sinners and im holding on. Also thank u to all the nice asks and comments ive been sent. means a lot <33. ENJOY!
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You could only stay in the farmhouse for so long; even though you desperately wanted to stay inside, Price dragged you outside, talking about fresh air and enjoying nature.Â
To you it was nothing but lies and the smell of animal shit.
There were no pavements, no cars flashing by, no advertisements or shops, no scents of food or sweets trying to lure you in. There were no hybrid clothes shops, where John would play dress up with you for his next party. Show him how the lingerie set he picked out looked against your tail.
He would make sure your nails were always perfect and manicured. Without the claws, he made sure you knew you were loved anyways, your nails adorned with expensive nail polish and gemstones. Anything that his Daisy, his princess, his darling, his puppy wanted, she always got.
Now you were here, following him into the stables, to see how far Nikolai - who had forced himself into your life - was with the tractor.
Warily looking out for the hybrids, staying close to your owner.
The stitches were gone and everything was healed all nicely - that didnât mean that you wanted to start over and get more bites that would need stitches. Once was enough. Hopefully Price and Nikolai understood that too.
Also, you didnât want to get fucked dumb by those mutts again; they didnât deserve your pussy. Especially not Ghost or Gaz. Not really Soap either, he had just been nice because he had to. You were sure. They were nothing but stupid working dogs, who didnât know how to behave.
Your owner, John Price, looked in love; he was watching Nik just as much as he was watching the tractor. The stress that had sometimes followed him home when you lived in the city was no longer visible. It had left his bones, made him happy and pliable, clearly blossoming in his new role as a farmer. You loved him but what the fuck were you supposed to do with this whole situation? Pretend to be happy?
You were a pet, so it wasnât like you had any options. And your attempts at persuading him to move back to the city hadnât gone well. Resisting your ever present urge to let him fuck you, would probably not do you any good. Earn you a spanking from both him and Nikolai. They might even throw you to the hounds.
One of those said hounds were getting closer to you, the hybrid making you tense up a little.
âYouâre looking good, princess,â Gaz said casually, shooting you an awfully charming smile, his tail wagging while you tipped your ears backwards instead of replying.
âFeeling better?â
You didnât reply, merely stared at the tractor, boring as it was. Maybe if you ignored him, he would go away. He stepped closer to you, his dark gaze resting on you, while you stepped closer to John, growling as a warning.
âBehave,â Price said over his shoulder, clearly more interested in that Russian man of his, than your safety.
It only took another step and Gazâs teeth a tad too close to you, to send you bolting out. Back inside it was then, you concluded, enough farming bullshit for today.
Only to meet Ghost in the way, his scarred face grinning smugly, ears tipping towards you.
ââEllo pup.â
Nah, you werenât fucking with that today. You managed to see the shadow of Soap before you bolted again.
Running still wasnât your best talent; so though you knew it was stupid, you decided to do what you werenât allowed to anyways. You crawled the wooden fence, ignoring the male hybrids' shouts and barks â as well as the fenceâs slight squeak - and landed on the other side with a grunt.Â
The corns were tall and you took a breath, looking over your shoulder, only to see a worried looking Soap being the closest.
He let out a concerned whimper.
âDinnae lass,â he warned, a softness in his voice that you recognized from your moments inside.
You would deal with the consequences and the punishment that Price would give you for leaving the ground. It was better than getting your shoulders bitten to pieces - so you got up and rushed into the tall corn field. Abandoning the male hybrids.
Stupid. They were all stupid.
Maybe this should be your new go-to hiding spot. You could hear them bark aggressively but not getting nearer. They werenât allowed to leave either. You felt your chest swell a little with pride over the idea. You wouldn't be gone for long, just until they lost interest in you.
It was several seconds before you stopped, panting with your tongue out. You couldnât see the fence or the farm from all the corn by now, which finally meant some peace. Your tail wagged and your body relaxed, a soft wind playing with your fur for a moment, making the corn move around you, like waves in the ocean.
However, that peace didnât last long.
âMy my,â the voice almost appeared out of nowhere and you turned slowly, unsure but still afraid of what you would see, âwhat are you doing here, perrita? On my property?â
You knew Alejandro and Rodolfo had gotten a hybrid, but you had been too swept up in your own nightmare to ask about her; now, as she towered above you, seeming more wolf than dog, you would rather have one of the mutts on your own farm. A scared little whimper escaped you.
âYou must be Priceâs precious lapdog, no?â She asked, slowly moving in between the corn with ease, as she circled around you, fear making you stay still, âa little city puppy, forced to be out on a farm. How sad.â
There was no trace of sympathy in her voice. It took you a moment to swallow some spit and another moment to take a proper breath.
âIâll go home again, Iâm sorry.â You tried your best to seem submissive, leaning forward a little, tail tugged along your leg. You at least had your owner at the farm - but here? Here, with this new, wolf-like hybrid, you didn't have anyone. You werenât even supposed to be here, werenât allowed. Sure, you knew Alejandro and Rudy, but they also knew you werenât supposed to be there.
âHmmm,â she answered in a rumble, licking her teeth slowly, casually showing off her fangs, âwhatâs your name, perrita?â
She screamed danger. Her energy screamed âI can make worse wounds than themâ and you certainly didnât feel like testing that. In fact, you would rather get as much distance between you and her as possible.
âD-Daisy.â It was the name Price had chosen, not that you were really called it. But you werenât going to tell this hybrid woman who looked like she could swallow you whole, that you were usually called princess, pretty girl, puppy or sweetheart.
âIâm Valeria,â she replied, finally stopping her circling, only to step closer to you. She wasnât really that tall, but her energy was as if she was, she had strong arms and legs; scars littered her too, her hair short, ears big and tipped forward without a care in the world. Her collar was thick and sturdy, opposed to your own fancy one.
You almost wanted to point out that yours was prettier. That you were a lapdog, not one of the working ones, that you were not made to be played rough with. That you were no threat.
You could hear barking in the distance. Voices calling out for you. Even though you hadnât met Valeria for more than a minute, you already knew you wanted to get a good distance between you and her.
âUh nice to meet you, but I better get back home, sorry-â you turned around quickly but before you could even think to bolt, strong arms were around you and the other dog hybrid pulled you close to her chest.
âEres tan linda e ingenua,â she almost lovingly growled into your ear, and while you didnât understand what she was saying, you were much more distracted by her tongue. She licked your cheek a couple of times, slow and wet strokes; you got the feeling that she might eat you raw without regret and you twisted a little in her grip, letting out a louder growl. She laughed, one of her hands pawing at your tit, claws sinking into the fabric. She smelled of danger and lust; like the mutts at home when they first got their dirty paws on you.
âIâm gonna enjoy meââ
âVALERIA!â Her name echoed through the fields, making both of you freeze. Like a warning rushing in between the corns, her name couldnât be ignored.
She growled deeply, seeming annoyed with the disturbance, while you wanted to kiss whoever of your neighbors it was. She rolled her hips, humping your ass twice, before she was interrupted again.
âValeria!â It was Alejandro, you realised then, who yelled once again, â sĂŠ que la tienes! Let her go!â
With one deep sniff of you, while you whimpered, the wolf-looking hybrid finally let go of you.
âI wonât be as nice next time, perrita - now go, before I change my mind and take you from your boys.â
You didnât need to be told that again and didnât want to argue that they werenât your boys - the moment she let go, you bolted towards the way you came.Â
How they knew that she had gotten a hold of you wasn't clear, but it wasnât like you were gonna turn around and ask Alejandro or Rudy.
The answer came to you anyways; one angry looking John Price stood with crossed arms, phone in hand. A grinning Nikolai next to him and three growling hybrids moving back and forth along the men and the fence. Every single one of them stilled and stared at you as you sheepishly walked to the fence, tail between your legs and ears tipped down.
You stood, just for a moment, with the fence in between you and the others. Considering staying there, as if that would be a good solution.
âGet your arse over here,â Price snapped, his voice stern and dark, as he put his phone in his pocket, marching towards you.Â
You hastily and in a rather inexperienced manner, climbed the fence and got to the right side. Instantly, tears welled up in your eyes and you let out a whimper, almost ready to tell about the horrors you had just been through - only to bark loudly at the hybrids as they all charged towards you, hands touching you, only stopped by a sharp whistle.Â
âNyet,â Nikolai called harshly, âoff her. Now.â
Soap and Gaz instantly let go, stepping back as John reached you, but Ghost didnât move. His hand rested on your neck, pressing your collar against your skin, his nose almost fully pressed against your temple.Â
âLet go.â Priceâs voice was sharp and you let out a little whimper- not sure who of them you would rather deal with right now.
âShe smells wrong,â Ghost replied, not moving, but his voice not as harsh as it could be, âsmell of her.â
Her. You didnât know whether Valeria would be in trouble over this or not. You had been the one to step into her territory anyways. She wasn't the one who had jumped a fence after all.
âWe will fix that.âÂ
Ghost let out a grumble but after two seconds of staring at each other, the hybrid finally let go of you, earning himself a swift âGood boy.âÂ
Then Price grabbed into the ring in your collar and pulled, ignoring how you instantly broke into tears, excuses and explanations spilling from your lips like a waterfall, desperate to avoid punishment. You didn't want to stay with Valeria, but you didnât want this either.
You were dragged past Nikolai who shared a short glance with Price - and they gave each other a short nod.
âCâmon boys,â Nikolai then called, the hybrids instantly moving to him, even though you could feel them staring at you, âweâre gonna join them.â
They were what? You cried harder, tugging at Johnâs arm, your owner ignoring your pleads and cries.
âIâm sorry sir, I got scared, I didnât mean to run away,â you babbled, every second word followed by a small sob or whine, tail between your lets, almost making it hard to walk normally, â they scared me, I was gonna come back, Iâll be good sir, Iâll behave! I wasnât running away!â
There was no mercy from your owner, who just marched you towards the farmhouse that had almost become home by now.
If someone had told you a year ago that you would be a dog on a farm by now, surrounded by working hybrids, you would have laughed in their face. Loudly and impolitely.
You? Pretty lapdog living in the city out on a farm?
You werenât even at the house yet, somehow crying harder because you felt so sorry for yourself in general. You were such a perfect lapdog, such a perfect being, forced to be out here, in the cold countryside. A tragedy.
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The prong collars looked like they would choke too and you wanted to scream merely at the sight.
âIâm not running the risk of having my darling all bitten to pieces again - this will hopefully help you to remember.â
None of them seemed too happy about it; you couldnât blame them, you wouldnât want those either, but you were horrified by the idea of getting bitten as harshly as they did last time. If both Price and Nik hadnât been there, you doubted it would be possible to get the collars on them.
You were still crying yourself, from the shame of having jumped over the fence and creating chaos, only resulting in this.
The moment they were allowed, they were on you, ignoring your whimpering and fingers trying to push them off - Soap was the nicest, helping you get your clothes off instead of letting the others rip them, even if all of them were obsessed with your smell. Or well, with how you smelled of Valeria to be exact.
Soap licked your cheek and you growled at him, tipping your ears back, trying to push him away, fingers against his chest; but he didnât move, only pressed himself closer, growling back to prove he was stronger than you - that you were supposed to be submitting to him.
âThey shouldnât be this aggressive,â you heard Price point out to Nikolai, but you were too distracted by Soap grinding his still clothed crotch against your poor, exposed cunt - you whined his name, but he didnât stop.Â
âGonnâ mark ye, hen,â he promised in a murmur, teeth sinking into your jaw for just a moment - a warning tug in the leash made him let go almost instantly, instead licking the spot a couple of times, âgonnâ make ye smell all bonnie again.â
Both Gaz and Ghost were barking, but they were both held by the collars by Price and Nik, kneeling next to them, clearly antsy.
â-are working dogs-â it was hard to hear them, over your own mind buzzing so much, over the barks and the pleasure that you hated, â-hierachy is importa-â, one of Soapâs hands disappeared and a moment later, you heard his fly get tugged down, âshow them where the line is, soââ
You howled in a high pitched tone as he forced his cock inside you, making you twist and try to push Soap okay. The stretch was intense, burning despite how wet you felt. âIt's okay, bonnie lass,â Soap growled, forcing his cock a little deeper into you, nosing at your shoulder, near one of your scent glands, his hands moving to grab onto your thighs, âweâre nae gonna hurt ye.â
You both knew it was a lie - but you at least trusted Soap a little more than the two other mutts who were watching, knowing he could control himself. They were barely able to sit still, tongues out, almost drooling, while their eyes were dark in a way that reminded you of that time in the shed.
He forced his cock deeper, the knot finally reaching the opening of your poor, stretched cunt and you let out a sound at the fear of it sliding inside you. The scent of Soap was already beginning to overwhelm the scent that Valeria had left behind against your will - a part of you wished you had fought her more, had attempted to hurt her more.
The cry that left you was pained and afraid - his fangs almost having forced its way through your skin; you were only saved by John, who pulled Soap back by the collar, the prongs digging into the hybridâs skin.
âBehave, boy,â John snarled while a mixture of a whine and a growl left Soap, as he helplessly pawed at the collar, âNo breaking skin - already told you.â
ââm sorry, sorry,â he promised, a pained tone to his voice, âdinnae mean tae.â
You doubted it was true; there was a darkness in the air despite the way your owner tried handling them.
He was let go off and the moment the prongs didnât painfully dig into his skin, he was on you again, tongue on the indent he had left, his cock pressed into you again, his tail wagging.
ââm sorry,â he barely managed to say in between his licks and moans, before his hands were back on you, his moaning louder, as he ignored your whines of slowing down. Your own hands grabbed onto his mohawk and ears, but the hybrid did nothing but moan even louder, moving his hips a little upwards and fuck - he hit the perfect spot, grinning like a feral hound when he noticed and heard your sounds.
You came against your will, crying out and spasming around him, his hands grabbing harder onto your thighs, claws teasing the skin.
He was panting and moaning like a hound, mounting you like there was nothing in his mind but the feeling of your cunt.
âGonna fill ye up,â Soap promised, words barely escaping his mouth, drool dripping down on you; not like you cared, too gone yourself to really do so.
âDON'T knot her,â Priceâs word cut through the air like a sharp knife, slicing into your mind; you wanted him to knot you, a part of you realized, no you needed him too - while another screamed in delight of not having to be stuck to him.
âNnngh,â his hips were going so fast it almost hurt as they clashed against your skin, âplease sir, please pleaââ
âNo.â
The hand that appeared made you shudder - and then a second later, Soap came, almost a guttural scream leaving him; you could feel Priceâs fingers near your cock, stopping him from sliding his knot into you.Â
âLater,â Price answered, then pulling Soap back by the collar and hair, your own hands slipping easily from him, âwe donât have the time to wait for all of you to knot her right now.â
The moment he was pulled away, you moved, whimpering and curling to the side, wincing as cum slid out from your pussy; it wasnât Johnâs, you wanted it to be your owners. You barely had time to breathe before Nik released one of the others. Gaz pushed you onto your stomach - one hand on your neck to keep you down as you snarled.
âWait,â you barked, ears tipping down âlemme breathe, for fucks sakeââ
âNeed you, puppy,â Gaz merely replied, grabbing onto your collar and tugging, his other hand pulling on your tail, ignoring your yelp, âgonna make it all okay again.â
âNothing happened-â you snarled, trying to make him let go, but you separately rose to your knees in order to levitate the pressure on your tail.
âWhy did you smell like her then, huh?â He all but snarled, finally letting go of your collar, to push down his own pants, âstinking of her lust!â
You tried twisting to grip onto his ears to tug at them, hoping it would make him let go of you but he merely let go of you fully for a moment - your wrists were caught by his hands and he slammed them against the wooden floor.
âBe nice, ŃОйака,â Nik warned him, âIâm in no mood for broken bones.â
You barely heard him nor Gazâ aggressive reply; you were too busy, having a realization.Â
They were jealous ; you werenât sure why it had taken you so fucking long to realize. The three mutts were jealous somebody else, somebody they didnât know, had touched you and hadnât you been so fucking upset, you might have laughed.
Instead, you felt a cock forcing its way into your cunt, making you howl in pleasure against your will; the slide was easier this time as Gaz fucked you, as you were already wet from the round with Soap - and now with his cum as well, Gaz fucked you almost smoothly. If not more aggressively than Soap had.
It didnât take long before his teeth sank into your skin, the first two seconds it was nothing more than an extra grip, his cock roughly thrusting into you as if attempting to move your organs, his drool sliding along your skin, mixing with your sweat. His claws were digging into your skin slightly, but even more into the floor - while you were a mess, panting and attempting to growl in between your pathetic moans, barely able to see straight.
The pressure he bit you with changed quickly however and suddenly you were whining in pain, so loudly that you almost didnât recognize your own voice.
Apparently Gaz had tried to bite Price in aggression over being ripped away from âhis bitchâ as Nik called it, and you heard the harsh words and slaps, while you sank down a little, your tits pressed against the cold floor, your cunt empty.Â
He was back as soon as he disappeared though, pulling you up again, only to almost instantly try to bite you again â halfway pulled away once more. You looked over your shoulder, seeing how the prong collar dug into his skin for a short moment until Price let go of him again.
The moment he was back, you turned however, using the moment to grab onto one of his long, dark ears and tug; it was almost a squeal that left Gaz and you heard both the hybrids bark and growl, Nik saying something â but it was the harsh spank from the leather leash that made you loosen your grip.Â
âBehave, Princess,â John was squatting down next to you, strong hand on your pretty collar; it stood out so violently when compared to the othersâ current prong collars, âor Iâll get you a collar too.â
âTheyâre mean!â you whimpered, giving him your best puppy eyes, before sending Gaz an angry look, as he was barely held back by John.
âWell youâre not quite playing nice either, eh?â There was a slight amusement in his voice but you didnât get to comment on it, before he moved again.
Price gave Gaz more leash and the hybrid was instantly on you again, but this time Price didnât let go of the metal ring in your own collar, keeping you in place, as if to remind you to behave; to remember he was right here, calling the shots.
âYeah, Princess,â Gaz mocked, pushing into your cunt again with a moan, the movement in his hips exposing the fact that he was wagging his tail, âBehave.â
âShut up!â you hissed angrily, a tug in the collar reminding you that Price was right there.Â
Gazâ hands were mostly on your hips - he nuzzled against your back and neck, licking your shoulders and in between your shoulder blades - he bit you a couple of times, but they were barely anything more than nips, a gentle tug on his collar reminding him to behave.
Then one of his hands moved, almost catching you off guard and making you whimper - it slid beneath your stomach, pawing at it for a moment, before it found its way to your cunt where the two of you were still connected, his thrusts still hard; he touched your clit without hesitation, snarling out words you could barely recognize. Mercilessly forcing you towards another orgasm.
Price let go of your collar and you let your head slumber down against the floor, wincing at the small pool of drool that had been created, hating how you pushed back against Gaz, the dual pleasure of his cock hitting that right spot and the fingers on your clit, so good you could barely breathe.
You barely heard Priceâs command of not knotting you, from the mere tsunami of pleasure that overtook your body as you came, a howl that barely made any sound, snapping of your teeth and the pawing at the floor. You tightened around his cock, the knot having been so close, oh so close to being forced into your over oversensitive cunt - but then it was pulled out of you, almost making you sob.
Cum spurted on top of your lower back and ass cheeks, before Gaz willingly went - you could hear the almost instant sound of him and Soap making out with each other. And there was only one person back, which meant you had to go now.
A hand grabbed onto your ankle, dragging you backwards as you managed to crawl forwards a few steps - you turned around, back on the floor, raising your opposite leg to kick Ghost in the face, but the other hybrid caught it easily; grinning at you, almost feral-like, lust heavy in the air. Sometimes you forgot they had been in the military for so long.
Leather connected to your skin once more, this time on your raised thigh, a whine leaving you, your eyes flickering to look up at John who stood with the leash curled in his hand, ready to spank you with it once more.
âbehave,â John hissed at you, while Ghost chuckled. Idiot.
You didnât have much time to argue, Ghost letting go of your ankles, just to grab onto your thighs and pull you closer; he was kneeling, almost pulling you into his lap, that feral grin still there, fangs exposed.
He leant over you much quicker than you had anticipated, ignoring your growling and snapping with teeth - one hand resting next to your head, the other pulling down his boxers, pants already open.
Was his cock this big last time? It was like you couldnât remember the last time right now, you could barely think, in fact, your mind was overwhelmed with so many things. Pleasure, oversensitivity, pain and anger - his dick seemed inhumanely long.
âNot so snappy now, huh?â he crooned, voice low, his free hand grabbing onto your plush thigh, fingers digging into the fat, ears tipped towards you as he spoke, âcockdumb already?â
ânnngh,â you tried pushing at his clothed chest, twisting in his grip, but it was no use; it was like the cock inside you kept you from doing anything. Somehow you managed a small âshutupâ and that was enough to set Ghost going.
âGonna teach you to not go whoring again,â Ghost snarled against your skin, tongue sloppily leaving a wet trail of spit over one of your bouncing tits, simply ignoring your hands trying to push his face out of the way, a plethora of moans and small yaps leaving you as he didnât stop fucking you with that monster cock of his. You knew you were being watched, both by your owner and his boyfriend, as well as the two other hybrids, it only added to the humiliation of being turned on.
âBelong to us,â his words were barely audible as he growled them, the wet sounds and rustling of his clothes seeming to overtake it, ânot her.â
âI wonât, wonât go, wonââ you were barely aware of the words slipping from your lips, the volume rising as you felt his teeth scrape against a spot on your shoulder over your right breast, ânonon, please, I wontââ
âGhostââ Priceâs warning was stern, the little tug in the prong collar making him grumble, licking over the spot a couple of times - your eyes met.Â
Ghostâs eyes almost seemed like they wanted to own you too; as if it was no longer John who you bowed to, but the pack that you didnât want, on a farm you didnât want to be. His thrusts quickened and then his eyelids lowered together with his head â biting down into your skin.
Despite his fast attempt at breaking your skin, mauling your flesh into his, Price was quicker â pulling him back by the collar. He held an extra grip on his hair and you managed to look up, see through the tears.
It was like there was a flood in your ears, Price looking mad, Ghostâs ears tipping backwards as he spoke.
Fighting to get some air into your lungs, you panted and tried wiggling free. Ghostâs fingers merely dug deeper into your plush thigh even though he was currently pulled back by the prong collar, the tips of his claws pressing against your skin as a warning.
The moment he let go, Ghost was back at it, staring down at you with a dark smile, grunts and small moans even leaving him. It took a couple of moments before Price let him have enough leash to bend down over you again and this time Ghost growled into your ears instead of your skin. Licking your furry ears while you whimpered at the feeling and the words.
They owned you; were going to breed you, use you, keep Valeria away, and do whatever they needed to keep you. You were theirs. The moment you let us, he had panted, we will love you.
There was an odd feeling in your stomach, almost as if you were going to piss yourself, but with no mercy from any of the men, one of your hands dug into his short hair and the other grabbed onto his shoulder as you screamed.
It had been a while since you squirted and it took you by surprise, just as it did the others. There were several barks, voices but then Ghost was fucking you even harder than before, bordering on painful, forcing his mouth against yours. You came a second time, this time not squirting but it almost felt more intense.
Ghost came just a moment later, perhaps caught by surprise himself, but he made sure not to knot you.Â
The world was spinning around you. There were teardrops in your lashes as you squinted up at the hybrid, who was still pushed inside you. Priceâs hand petting him shortly on the head before pulling him back.
There was speech but you barely noticed - then strong hands pulled you up into a lap. The overpowering scent of leather and oil told you who it was and despite your slight hate for Nik, your tail wagged as he pulled you into his arms, cooing at you.
âSuch a strong puppy,â he praised, one of his hands drying away some of your drool, caressing your cheek as he sat on the floor with you on his lap, cum no doubt dripping onto his clothes, âyou deserve treat for being so good, da?â
Compared to the first time you had met Nikolai, you didnât want to bite his hand anymore - he clearly didnât fear you doing so either. You snuggled into his hand, nodding as you squinted up at him, a small âuh-huhâ leaving you.
His hand disappeared and then there was a faint rustling of plastic - even without seeing it, you smelled it. It was that mouthwatering scent that made you weak in your knees that first time and your nose instantly sniffed, almost trying to sit up further to get a look of where it was - to get it before the boys did. Nikolai laughed, letting out a âthere you go, milaya,â letting you grab the piece of jerky from his finger, instantly sinking your teeth into it with a pleased sigh. Your tail wagging a little again as you heard Soap whining over not getting a piece.
You even had to take a bath with them afterwards. Your life was officially over - you made sure to tell Price that, who just huffed and rolled his eyes. Sure, you werenât the biggest fan of showers, but you wanted the cum off and you wanted a bath in the tub⌠alone. That was your thing.
â- ând theyâre gonna use up my shampoo and my conditioner -â you continued overdramatically as Nik carried you in front of John, the russian man merely snorting at your pitiful complaining.Â
âWeâll buy more-â John tried to point out, but to no avail, life might as well be over for you right now.
â- ând my brushes - all my nice brushes!â
âI will be sure tae use yers, Mo ghrĂ dh,â Soap happily proclaimed, sending you a wink, fully naked as he was, his usual collar back on, small red marks on his neck from where the prongs had been, âI will use theim the wrong way. Just fer ye.â
Gaz snickered and even Ghost let out a chuckle.
âJooohn,â you whined, only struggling a little as Nik sat you down in the tub, the water already nice and warm, your poor body having needed this, âIâm gonna need new brushes.â
âI doubt that, Princess,â he cooed, petting your hair, âNow who wants to join in thââ
Soap was in the tub, sliding in behind you before John could even finish his question, happily ignoring your pout and growl.
âDinnae be like that,â he crooned, âwhere is yer special shampoo?â
This day had been awful.
â¨â¨â¨â¨â¨â¨â¨â¨â¨
âPrincess.â
You almost jumped as the voice called for you and you turned, squinting slightly in suspicion at the sight. Gaz stood in the doorway, all calmly, looking at you, playing a little with his gloves. He didnât look aggressive and didnât smell turned on; in fact, he looked pretty harmless, his tail wagging ever so slightly, ears turning towards you and an almost shy smile.
âWhat?â you asked, sitting up in the dog bed, crossing your arms, not caring about sounding nice, looking him over for a moment before adding, âyouâre dragging in mud.â
He looked down at his shoes, letting out a little âohâ. They werenât really supposed to be in here, so you didnât really understand why Gaz stood there. You didnât really care either.
The other might be beautiful, but he was still not one of your favorite people.Â
âI - want to show you something,â he finally said, one of his charming smile appearing, though it was a little more careful this time, âSoap said you would probably like it.â
âWhat is it?â You didnât sound too impressed.
âIt's a surprise,â he smiled a little more.
âIf it's your knots, then you canââ
âJeez,â he rolled his eyes, as if they werenât fucking you silly on the livingroom floor the other day, âitâs not. Nothing like that.â
âPromise?â
âI do,â he answered, wagging a little more than before, âSwear on my tail.â
"Hm. Where is it?â
âIn the barn.â
You scrunched your nose at the mention of the barn, the idea of being stamped to death by a horse already scaring you.
âItâs nothing scary - I wouldnât bring you if it was.â
You let out a sigh, before getting up - he went to the hallway again and you followed, stealing one of Johnâs jackets as well as a pair of his boots, before following Gaz outside.Â
âSome air would do you good once in a while, yaâ know,â Gaz said after a few moments, âweâre not that bad all of the time, Princess.â
You huffed, wondering for a moment if you should just turn around and go back. âYou havenât really proved me otherwise.â
He let out a hum that almost sounded agreeable but opened one of the doors to the barn, ushering you inside.
âItâs all good, I promise,â he said once more and you reminded yourself, that if he tricked you, you were going to snap off his tail. Pretty as it was.
He steered you to a booth where you noticed the heat lamp at first, more than anything else - but then you saw them, letting out a little gasp.
Tiny baby goats, all snuggled together in the hay beneath the lamp. A few of the mothers stood nearby and one of them came to the door of the booth, sniffing at Gazâ hand, before letting out a bleat - then turning around again.
âTheyâre adorable,â you whispered, looking back at the babies, some of them looking at you, others sleeping with no worries in the world.Â
âArenât they?â Gaz asked with a smile, âThey were born yesterday night. Come.â
You let out a scared sound as Gaz opened the door to the booth.
âWonât the mothers attack us?â you didnât like how Gaz chuckled to your genuine, fearful question but he shook his head.
âNah, me ând the others hang out with the animals all the time.â He explained, petting one of the mothers who came to greet him for a moment.
It was cute. You had to admit that, even with your limited love of the farm animals.
âBut I donât.â you pointed out, still standing in the door of the booth, afraid to step into the hay and join the other as he sat down next to the baby goats.
âNo, but the mothers know I wonât let a predator near,â he explained gently, âNot at daytime and not during the night.â
âOh.â
There was something special over this that you could not explain. You didnât want to explain it. You sat down next to Gaz as he patted the spot, still a little unsure about the momma goats - but none of them battered an eye as Gaz took your hand and made you gently pet one of the babies.
âTheyâre so tiny,â you whispered, almost to yourself, for once not hating or fearing Gaz. At least for right now, you were just in a moment together with him, doing something that you hadnât expected would be that nice.
#boolger#my writing#fanfiction#call of duty#cod fanfic#a lapdog at a farm fic#lapdog#a lapdog at a farm#call of duty fanfic#cod smut#hybrid!141#hybrid!reader#hybrid!au#dark fanfiction#dark!fic#simon ghost riley x reader#hybrid reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#price x reader#nikolai x john price#johnny soap mctavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish#reader x kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick#taking turns#mention of breeding#dark content#dead dove fic
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Snickerdoodle a.d.
pairing: Art Donaldson x reader prompt: Imagine being that parent who always brings baked goods to the PTA meetings and generally getting along with everyone really well. But for some reason Art Donaldson says something that rubs you the wrong way one night. warnings: smut 18+, car sex, piv, cheating, adults acting like horny teenagers, flashbacks, not proofread word count: 2.4K a/n: I wrote this in one sitting just from seeing this post đ¤
part ii | part iii | part iv | part v
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He notices heâs offended you by the way you stop talking directly to him, looking everywhere but him. Smiling at everyone but him. Youâre giving your undivided attention to anyone who speaks but when he opens his mouth you seem much more interested in your nails.
Art has known you since he's been coming to these meetings. He knows that you offer a polite smile to everyone, but he'd grown used to the small smiles you'd give him. The secret grins and the sarcastic eye rolls you shared with him when Nancy got a bit too controlling or when Dan overshared about his marriage.
You would playfully nudge his elbow when Cynthia inevitably brought up her small knitting business. Youâd been initially interested, always loving a good sweater, until you found out the only things she knit were small replicas of pets.
You would discreetly play tic tac toe or hangman on a napkin while the more aggressive moms argued about where to host the next school event, or when the guest speaker for the night would drone on and on.
Once, you baked snickerdoodle cookies and Art ate three of them in one sitting, then asked to take some home for âLily.â So, you made sure to bake snickerdoodle cookies almost every time you brought snacks. Everyone knew the circular red tin youâd bring was Artâs.
The two of you didnât really talk outside of the PTA, but Art considered you his friend at these things.
Which is why he should've known not to bring up your recently divorced ex-husband during the meeting. Heâd simply been trying to make sure the headcount for this yearâs Fall Fest committee was right after Nancy had thrusted the clipboard into his hands. He was tasked with making sure everyone on the list was still showing up. When Art asked you if your husband would still be attending, you went silent, your lips tensing up like youâd tasted something sour.
âAre you really asking me that right now?â
Art stammered. âI just wasnât sureâŚâ
You scoffed at him disbelieving.
âWell when he finally gets his head out of that whoreâs ass then maybe heâll be able to let you know.â
He doesnât say anything.
Before he hands the clipboard back, he makes sure to draw a line through your ex-husbandâs name.
Art tries to apologize after the meeting is over. Insisting on walking you to your car and carrying your dessert containers back for you. His self deprecating little smile makes you roll your eyes, but you turn for him to follow you anyway. You silently lead the way to your car keeping a couple steps ahead of him. Despite his attempts to look away, Artâs eyes stay glued to the sway of your hips the whole way.
Once you pop the trunk and gesture for him to place the containers down, you finally look him in the eyes for the first time since heâd pissed you off. Art shoves his hands in his pockets, telling you heâs really sorry for what he said. That he wasnât thinking. He wants to make it up to you.
You purse your lips, look at the way his eyes seem hopeful yet a little too pleading for an offense so small. You tilt your head to the side, taking in his features before eventually telling him that âitâs fine,â and that you forgive him. He seems to visibly relax at this and you canât help wondering why he would be so hung up on your forgiveness. After all, it was really an overreaction on your part.
You tell him as much and reassure him that you donât need anything, he doesnât need to make it up to you. He grabs your hand then, insisting that he wants to.
Art has always been this way, you think, all placating and overly apologetic when he thinks heâs done something wrong. Youâd chalked it up to the media training you know he mustâve received. Being agreeable probably made his PR managerâs job ten times easier. Not that you didnât believe he was genuinely a kind person, but you knew even Art might be overcompensating every now and then.
Youâd seen the way he could be snarky without remorse before. The two of you would basically laugh about it later. Youâd also seen how he never hid the way his eyes would linger on your cleavage. The way heâd give you a small, bashful smile when youâd catch him, his smirk only growing wider the more you blushed.
Art Donaldson could be sneaky.
áŻ
Heâd never been ashamed about being touchy with you. Placing a warm hand on your arm or back when greeting one another, letting his fingers skim your hand on the table next to his while he listened to speakers. The touching seemed innocent enough until one night when heâd walked you to your car after the two of you had stayed longer. You had been distracted during the meeting.
Art stayed and listened as you told him about your husband and how heâd come home late after you planned a romantic evening for the two of you the night before. You made sure your son was at your parentsâ house, made his favorite meal, and lit candles around the house. The two of you had decided to schedule date nights per your therapistâs suggestion. When 1 am rolled around, and your husband had returned none of your calls, you scraped the food into tupperware containers and got ready for bed. He came home with apologies and excuses about getting caught up in the office. He had already eaten, and he smelled of a perfume you didnât own but had grown to recognize.
That night, you told Art that you were sure your husband was cheating on you. He told you that he understood how you felt. You didnât believe him. Tashi was perfect.
After your tears had dried, and Art managed to pull a few laughs out of you, the both of you decided it was time to call it a night. You moved to give Art a casual hug, but he wrapped his arms around you so tightly that you couldnât help but melt into it, burying your face in his chest. You remembered him smelling warm, like amber.
Art had rubbed your back as he held you, whispered that he was sorry that your husband was a dumbass. You huffed out a laugh, pulling away to look at him. Heâd brought his hand up to your cheek, his other hand on the small of your back. You smiled at him through your eyelashes before letting your head drop down with a sigh.
Your cheeks burned as you took in how your legs were tangled with his. Art had tilted his head to get a better look at you again, but youâd stuck to hiding your face against his chest.
He huffed and let his chin fall to your shoulder. You still refused to look his way, turning to watch some trees. You felt both his hands on your back now.
âWhat are you thinking about?â He whispered.
âThat we said we should go home like 5 min ago.â His hands traveled lower. âYou?â You asked shakily. You could feel his breath warm against your neck.
âThat I might not be any better than your husband.â
Your eyes widened. Artâs palms firmly cupped your ass. In contrast, his lips were pressed gently to the skin of your neck.
âArt!â Your hands flew to his hair.
He laughed into your neck.
You slapped his arm, but when his eyes met yours and his lips were mere inches away from yours, you let your eyes flutter shut.
His breath fanned your lips. He smelled like snickerdoodle cookie.
Then, his phone rang.
Art had pulled away from you, turning around to answer the call. You could tell it was Tashi. Heâd been honest, telling her that heâd stayed late talking to you. At the mention of your name, he paused and looked over his shoulder.
âTashi says hi.â
áŻ
The two of you never brought up the almost kiss again, but you knew Art hadnât been sorry. The next time he saw your husband, heâd smirked and told him how lucky he was to have such a great wife. Your husband, ever the narcissist, soaked it all in, pulling you in by the waist, showing you off like a shiny toy. When he turned away, Art had winked at you.
áŻ
So, you know that Art is either laying it on thick or feels extremely remorseful about reminding you of your cheating ex-husband.
When he grabs your hand, insisting on finding some way to make it up to you, you see a look of desperation in his eyes that looks new.
Your eyes drop to where his large hand covers your own, then they travel up his toned arm until you find his face, flitting between his eyes and his lips. And for some reason, youâre leaning in. Maybe itâs your way of reassuring him that you guys are good. Either way, heâs not moving back. Youâre gripping his forearm with your free hand and suddenly your lips are on his.
Youâre not sure if it was his tongue or yours that first went seeking out the other, but now you two are sharing sloppy kisses on the empty school parking lot.
When his left palm presses into your cheek and you feel that cold metal band sting your skin, you pull away with a gasp, remembering where you are, who he is, and that he has a damn wedding ring on. This is Art. PTA Art. You know his wife, for godâs sake. Youâve hosted play dates between their daughter and your son. You carpool with them. You curse and back away from him.
âIâm sorry, IâI donât know why I did that. I shouldnât have...â
Art shakes his head, stepping closer to you. Heâs looking at you with those damn eyes again. Like heâll break if you say the wrong thing.
âIâwe, we shouldnât have done that, Art.â
He shakes his head again. Your palm comes up to hold him back, but it doesnât work as he simply grabs ahold of the hand on his chest and presses himself against you more. His forehead comes down to lean on yours. His eyes closed.
âYou donât understand,â he sighs. âI want you.â
âBut youâre married ArtâŚâ
âI want you.â He repeats. âIâve wanted youâŚfor awhile now.â
And though you already know this, it still shocks you that heâs actually saying it now. Before you have time to register it, heâs back on you and you donât know if itâs because youâre afraid to break him or if youâve just always been this selfish, but you let him press you against the trunk of your car. You let him push his tongue into your mouth, let his big hands knead the flesh of your hips and ass. Let him lick and nip at your neck, nibble on your earlobe.
You let Art push you into the backseat of your car. You let him settle between your legs, guiding his lips to yours, wrapping your legs around his waist.
Heâs pressing his hips into yours rocking against you as he pushes your top up. Artâs hands frantically work at your bra, impatiently bending the wire in the process of taking it off. You gasp at his eagerness but canât say anything as heâs already wrapping his mouth around your nipple making you arch your back up off the leather seats. His hands are gripping your thighs and shoving your skirt up when he releases your nipple with a pop.
Heâs up long enough to tear his shirt off and for your equally impatient hands to reach for his pants. His shorts are barely past his balls before heâs back on you. Kissing all over your lips, jaw, neck. Art groans when his fingers find their way to your soaked underwear, rubbing his thumb from your slit to your clit through the fabric. You whine and rock your hips into each movement. You pant into his open mouth as he pulls them to the side, letting the air hit your bare cunt. He dips his thumb into your entrance then drags it up to sloppily circle your clit.
Youâre moaning loudly into his mouth, begging him for more. Art smiles against your lips as he takes himself in his hand. He lets his head sweetly kiss your sticky clit, and he asks if you want him to put it in.
You nod eagerly.
"Yeah?" He grunts, tapping his head against you in a taunting manner.
You nod again and let him press against your opening.
Art covers your mouth with his when he finally pushes into you, stifling both of your moans. He gets his arms around your waist, holding you as he rocks into your pussy. Youâre whimpering and squeezing around him like you havenât had dick in years, and Art thinks he might pass out when you start bucking up into him and begging him to fuck you.
He doesnât even care that he wonât last long. He canât deny you. So, he wraps your thighs tighter around his waist and pushes himself forward. Your mouth falls open as Art slides out and pushes back into you with a grunt. Your hands are in his hair, pulling at the short strands. You mouth at his jaw as his thighs slap against you.
Art buries his head into your neck as he frantically fucks into your tight hole, and heâs whining that heâs close. His fingers that have been playing with your clit are slippery with your juices and you clench your thighs, nodding with him in agreement.
You end up letting Art Donaldson cum inside you. You let him rub your clit until you orgasm around his dick thatâs still buried in you.
You let him help you redress. Heâd winced when he saw the mess he made of you between your legs. You ignore the way you can tell he wants to say sorry.
Once youâre both dressed and youâre standing against your car with wobbly legs, Art tells you that he still wants to make it up to you.
You roll your eyes.
âGood night, Art.â You get into the driverâs seat.
âIâm serious.â
Your hand hesitates on the door handle. You look back at him and his pleading eyes and his pathetic yet charming smile.
âYour wife has my number.â
And then, you shut the door.
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a/n: reader reminds me of Anna Kendrickâs character in A Simple Favor, sweet but also kinda toxic
thanks for inspiring this @artdcnaldson <3
#dilf!Art at a PTA meeting???#talk about some inspiration#challengers#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson smut#challengers fic#challengers 2024
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Hihiii
Nephite when an other follower/ omega tryed to get with us?
yandere omega cultist nephite
cw;; religion, cults, omegaverse, violence
nephite is the least physically violent of the ocs ive posted so far but that doesn't take away from how scary he can be. he's so loyal to the church he has a lot of power for an omega.
y/n: do you know what happened to him?
nephite: he received divine punishment ^.^
y/n: right. i forgot you're crazy again.
nephite can't even breathe when he sees one of the slightly younger omegas flirting with you at a potluck. you're completely unreceptive to the advances of course. but he can't help but hear these words in his ears.
"alphas always prefer young omegas"
right now you were ignoring this harlot but for how long? how long before he became old and undesirable? nephite chewed his thumb nail until he broke the skin, only actually stopping because his mother pulled his hand away. she scolded him gently as she cleaned up his booboo but he couldn't look at her, he couldn't hear her. his sister noticed and teased him a little for getting so worked up over a random omega.
they were right. it was silly. he stuffed it down but he still spent the whole night attached to your hip.
it was fine.
but that omega didn't stop. if you left the house that omega would come find you and immediately start talking to you. his hands would press against your chest, his arms would wrap around one of your own, he would lean his body into you every chance he got. nephite's usually bright eyes would go dead the moment he saw the younger omega. what was he supposed to say? that filth never did it when he was right next to you, always waiting for you to be alone. and its not like it got more suggestive than just flirting. but it was driving nephite insane.
one day nephite was holding a sacred texts study group for omegas at your home. he had been so excited to be the host for this meeting, he spent the whole day making snacks for it! only to find, to his horror, that omega also arrived. you had decided to stay out of the living room while his group was going on but that just meant that horrible harlot could really get you alone! nephite had tried so hard to watch him like a hawk but he'd also gotten too into the discussion with the others. he never even realized when that omega disappeared from the group.
after everyone left he headed to your shared bedroom, excited to tell you about how it went. his hands pressed the door and his eyes immediately went dead. you were sitting on the bed with that omega, just talking. you had been showing him a book you'd been reading recently. his hand was on your knee. his shirt was unbuttoned. nephite felt dizzy, delirious with all the dark emotions bubbling in his stomach. he thought about killing that harlot right here, cutting off the filthy hands that dared to touch you.
you snapped him out of it, asking if group was over and then saying that harlot should leave. you escorted him to the door like a real gentleman. you asked him what was bothering him, if his group had gone poorly. nephite had practically tackled you into the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in your chest. he cried well into the night about all his insecurities and worries about you leaving him. and with every tear there was your reassuring hand in his hair, soothing him gently.
but that wasn't enough. the next day he went to confession with a pair of his frilly underwear stuffed in his pocket. he told the pastor the truth. mostly. he exaggerated the amount of adultery that harlot had really done so far. the pastor seemed to know he was being lied to but he trusted that nephite would only be bringing someone to his attention if they were a filthy sinner. the frilly underwear were icing on the cake. he told the pastor that he found them in the sinner's home along with a plan to seduce you.
they made a big show of dragging that sinner through the compound. wherever he was going he would never be coming back from. he caught nephite's eyes as he was dragged crying and screaming through the street. nephite held your arm tighter a wicked smile on his face just long enough for that foolish sinner to catch.
#top male reader#dom male reader#male reader#yandere ideas#yandere x male reader#sub yandere#yandere oc#replies#yandere cultist#alpha reader#yandere omega
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hii i love love how u write spencer omdsđĽ¸
uhh i was wondering if you could write sth based off the song âweâll never have sexâ by leith ross? pls dont feel pressured to write this btwđđđ hope ur having a good day lovelyđđ
hello my love i have no self control so this is extremely long and plotty but i love this song and i hope that this is any good at all crying emoji (i'm on a laptop LOL) enjoy!!
warnings/tags: angst/fluff, fem!reader, negative self-talk from reader, mentions of past sexual coercion/feeling used, mentions of past excessive drinking to combat social anxiety, ive been watching a lot of new girl lately and i think it shows, SO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, happy ending
You werenât expecting to end up on Spencer Reidâs worn-leather couch at two in the morning, clutching a chipped mug of coffee in your hands as you listen to the sounds of the city from the street below. But there you are, sitting with your legs folded under you, in your favorite dress and first date-night makeup (now bleeding and smudged from all the crying.) And realizing that despite considering him one of your closest friends, you havenât been to his apartment in a long time. There are, of course, good reasons for thatâbut you try to push those from your mind.Â
âIâm really sorry about this,â you sigh, staring at your warped reflection in the glassy black surface of your coffee. Spencer is coming out of the small kitchen, now bearing his own cup.Â
âPlease, stop apologizing.âÂ
You glance up, tentatively studying him from behind the safety of your mug. While he may not have been asleep when you knocked on his door ten minutes ago, lachrymose and barely verbal, he must have been getting ready for bed. Heâs clad in patterned pajama pants, mismatched socks, and an FBI crewneck that is just big enough to reveal the collar of the tee-shirt underneath. Heâs already taken out his contacts, and you were startled by the reminder that he also has glasses.Â
âSo...â he begins, bringing you back to the present moment, âwe don't have to talk about anything, if you donât want to, but...âÂ
You sigh, watching coffee bubbles swirl like stars in a galaxy.Â
âItâs fine. Honestly, Iâm kind of embarrassed. I didnât really think, I just... ended up here.âÂ
âYeah... where did you come from?â he laughs quietly. âNot that Iâm complaining. But I recall you not living super close by.âÂ
âNo, no. I was actually on a date. Kind of.âÂ
âAh.â Thereâs a beat of silence, and ostensibly Spencer is waiting for you to say more, but instead you take a sip from your mug. âAt two in the morning?â You nod dully, staring at the labyrinthine pattern of the Persian rug. Â
âIâm taking it that it wasnât a very good date...?âÂ
A whoosh of air escapes from your puffed cheeks.Â
âNo it was not. Not by the end, anyway. It actually started really well, which made it even more disappointing when he...â you laugh, but thereâs not much humor in it. âWell, when he kicked me out of his car on a street corner because I didnât want to sleep with him.âÂ
You donât look to see Spencerâs reactionâonly take another long, baleful sip of coffee and ignore the heavy silence. Â
âIâm really sorry. You... you deserve so much better than that.âÂ
An attempt at a jaded scoff from you falls flat.Â
âYeah, well. Tell that to the last three white house interns Iâve gone on dates with. Itâs the same thing every time.âÂ
âHave you considered going on fewer dates with white house interns...?â The nervous humor is a thin veil over genuine critique. You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek.Â
âItâs not just them. Every single guy Iâve liked since I was 15 has been like this. Even my past relationships, I felt like I was almost... tricked into, you know? I mean, these guys, they act all understanding and willing to take it slow or whatever, until youâre in a relationship, and suddenly theyâre guilt tripping you so hard and making you feel so obligated to...â you catch yourself just in time, glancing up at Spencer. Youâre not sure what to make of his expression. The drawn brow and slightly squinted eyes trained so intently on you could be sympathy, or anger, or pity, or apathyâyou look away, not sure you even want to know what heâs thinking. âSorry. You donât need to hear all about that. Basically romance is exhausting and since Iâll clearly be single forever Iâm considering running away to join a nunnery.âÂ
When he doesnât respond for too long, you look back up quizically.Â
âIâm not sure you know what romance actually is,â he says as soon as your gaze meets his, like the eye-contact activated some kind of hair-trigger in his vocal box.Â
You blink, lowering the coffee cup to your lap.Â
Says Spencer Reid?Â
â...sorry?âÂ
He flushes, stammering to clarify himself.Â
âI just meantâIâI know Iâm not exactly fighting women off with a stickââ he interrupts himself with a self-conscious (adorable) laughâ âbut... but I have been in love, at least once.â Â
âMaeve,â you say, gentlyâtrying to shove down bitter guilt as you remember how jealous youâd been when Spencer had first told you about her. âI remember.âÂ
He swallows and nods.Â
âWe never even metâwe just talked. All the time. I had no idea what she looked like. But it didnât matter at all. Because I knew her, and I loved her. Maybe things would have gone further if I hadnât been calling her from public phone booths, but that wasnât the most important thing to either of us. We were still in love.â You try to shut out the sharp ache in your chest. Being jealous of the way he speaks about a dead woman is so wrong. Â
âWhat Iâm trying to say is that romance isnât solely about sex, or even physical appearance. It sounds to me like youâve been with a lot of men who donât understand that. And it would be such a shame for you to write romance off in general before you even get to experience it. You are... an extraordinary woman. Youâre funny, and intelligent, and kind, and so capable of being loved. One day, someone is going to see beyond your pulchritude and prove that to you. I hope you let them try.âÂ
More tears blur the pattern on the rug, pooling in the rims of your eyes before spilling down your cheeks in fast, fat drops. Shakily you set the cup down, resting your elbows on your knees and hiding your face in your hands. You sniff once. Twice. Shake your head quickly, attempting to wipe the tears away without further smearing your makeup everywhere.Â
âShit, Iâm sorry,â Spencer breathes, leaning forward but obviously unsure how to comfort you. âPlease donât cry, I wasnât--I was trying to do the opposite of this.âÂ
âNo, Iâm sorry! You didnât have toâyou didnâtâIâm sorry. That was way too nice.âÂ
But you're not crying because he was nice. Â
Someone will love you, but not me. Thatâs all you can hear.Â
His voice is a mere whisper when he next speaks.Â
âI meant every word.âÂ
You take a shuddering breath, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve behind the peaceful black of your eyelids. You canât be looking at his face when you say what youâre about to say.Â
âI had a crush on you for the longest time, you know.âÂ
Ringing silence. But it doesnât last as long as youâd imagined. Itâs not as world ending.Â
âHad?âÂ
The little smile in his voice is like a fist around your heart.Â
âYeah. You know what changed?âÂ
âWhatâs that?âÂ
Absolutely nothing.Â
âEvery time I got super drunk and started hitting on you, youâd just drive me home. And I did it a lot. Like, for months. But you were such a gentleman. It drove me fucking crazy. So eventually I figured you just didnât like me and I gave up.âÂ
Another stretch of silence. A breeze comes in from the open window, fluttering the curtains and cooling the tears on your face. His response is sad when it finally comes.Â
âYou thought I didnât like you because I didnât try to take advantage of you when you were drunk?âÂ
âPretty much.â You smile ruefully, fingertips still pressed over your eyes. âGod, listen to me. No wonder I get treated like garbage.âÂ
âStop. Donât talk about yourself like that. Did you hear anything I just said?âÂ
You sniff, looking to the ceiling.Â
âYeah. Yeah, youâre right. It was really sweet.âÂ
More silence.Â
âBut you donât believe it.âÂ
A bitter laugh poisons the air around you.Â
âI donât know.  Iâm kind of tired of waiting for someone to prove it to me. Just for once, I want someone to be interested in me beyond having sex in the back of their fucking... Range Rover, or whatever. Like, maybe all that stuff you said is true, but thereâs no evidence to support it, and I know logically youâre probably right but I canât help wondering if... if Iâm the outlier. Maybe there just isnât someone for me like that. Maybe Iâm just gonna be the sex in the back of the Range Rover girl forever.âÂ
A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob forces itself from your throat and you bury your face in your hands again, shaking your head.Â
âWow, I am so sorry,â you say a little too loudly, âI did not mean to be this honest tonight. Did you spike my coffee?âÂ
âYou are not the outlier,â Spencer whispers. Â
You sniff, lifting your head haltingly to look at him.Â
âWhat?âÂ
His voice shakes slightly as he speaks.Â
âYou said you canât help wondering if youâre the outlier, and maybe there just isnât someone for you like that. Thatâs not true.âÂ
âSpencer, those are just words. You canât possibly know that. Statistical probabilities donât count.âÂ
âThatâs... thatâs not how I know.âÂ
Your heart drops as you study his face. Â
No.Â
Surely heâs not saying what you think heâs saying.Â
Surely he wouldnât do this to you after youâve just told him everything you told him. You have been harboring feelings for him for years. Since you met. He canât just spring this on you one night because youâre a little bummed out. If he felt the same, you would have found out a long time ago; he had ample opportunity to tell you. There was a period of months where you practically threw yourself all over him at every chance you got, and he did nothing. So this... this is just cruelâsomething youâve never known Spencer Reid to be.Â
You stand up, trembling slightly with rage and grief and humiliation.Â
âDonât do that. Donât say things that you donât mean just to make me feel better.âÂ
âWhat are you doing? Donât--âÂ
You scoop up your purse, trying to get to the front door as fast as your gelatinous legs will allow. More tears are streaming down your face now and you donât need him to see what heâs done to youâto see how much you care what he thinks.Â
âItâs fine. Thanks for the coffee, Iâll see you aroundââÂ
A hand around your wrist stops you in your tracksÂ
âStop. Just... please give me a second to talk, okay?âÂ
With nothing left to give, you turn to him.Â
âDonât be mean, Spencer. Donât act like you liked me too. That makes me feel... so much worse.âÂ
He takes a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. Tawny eyes bore into your soul, and you realize that there is so much sheer nervous energy radiating off of him itâs infectious. Your heart begins to pound as he speaks.Â
âIâm not doing that. Iâm being an idiot, because you just told me that you donât feel that way about me anymore but... but I do. And I have to tell you now because for six months I tortured myself wondering why you would flirt with me so much when you were hammered and then act like nothing happened the next day. There were so many times I almost told you how I felt but I didnât and now I am because even if it ruins our friendship you need to know that somebody... that I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.âÂ
Your heart is like an unmoored zeppelin in your chest, bumping against your esophagus and threatening to either burst or jump out of your mouth. You take your chances, whispering so quietly itâs almost inaudible.Â
âYou... you like me?âÂ
âYes,â Spencer sighs. âI have liked you for a very long time. And Iâm sorryââÂ
Whatever ridiculous thing he was going to apologize for, you donât give him the chance. Instead you launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in a kiss that feels so much better than itâd ever been in your fantasies because itâs real. You hear his sharp intake of breath, but it only takes a second for him to respond, cradling your face in his hands like youâre the entire world. For a moment, time bends. Years of longing, of buried dreams crash into the present in a brilliant, dazzling explosion.
And then, as quickly as it started, he pulls away. The absence of his touch is like a vacuum, so much worse now that you know exactly how it feels to have his lips on yours, even if it was only for a few seconds. How the hell did you live like that for so long? How are you supposed to live like that ever again?
âYouâre not thinking clearly,â he breathes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling like heâs barely holding onto his self control. âYou just want someone to comfort you, Iâm not going to take advantage of you when youâre in an emotionally vulnerable state and confided in me which is manufacturing a false sense of attachmentââÂ
You grab his wrists, which still graze your jaw.
âSpencer, stop intellectualizing for thirty seconds. I promise you I am thinking clearly.âÂ
âYou said you used to like me, past tenseââÂ
âYeah, I did. Do you believe every single murderer who says he didnât do it?âÂ
âNo, butââÂ
âHave you ever heard the phrase; a drunk manâs words are a sober manâs thoughts?âÂ
âOf course I have.âÂ
âThen what more could you possibly need to be convinced that I really like you? I already kissed you! What is stopping you?âÂ
Another deep breath is taken by him that seems to suck all the air out of the quiet room. Briefly, you wonder if youâve made a terrible, terrible mistake. If you really do like him so much more than he could ever like you. Â
Until he looks back down, eyes so golden-brown in the dim light, so kind and full of affectionate concern as he carefully assesses every square centimeter of your face, looking for... well, youâre not exactly sure what. Itâs like heâs extracting every thought from your head, turning them over like sun-warmed stones until he finds what heâs looking for. He smooths his hands over your hair, brushing strands away from your teary face. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of holding your breath, he speaks.Â
âI just want you to believe what I believe about you. But I donât want you to have to rely on me or anyone else for your own self-worth.âÂ
âWell, donât you think very highly of yourself,â you tease with a sniffle. He laughsâit's quiet, but his smile is so bright without even trying that suddenly you canât remember why youâve ever been sad. The small miracle of his laughter makes you feel so light, and you realize it has nothing to do with the way he makes you feel about yourself. It has everything to do with who he is.Â
Once the giggles die down, you tentatively mirror his hold on your face.Â
âSpencer, I donât like you because you like me. Iâve liked you for an embarrassingly long time. I liked you enough that I gave myself a severe hangover at least once a week for three months just so I could have an excuse to flirt shamelessly with you.âÂ
A half-sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he gently swipes under your eyes.Â
âYou never had to do that. I would have welcomed your sober brazen flirting with open arms.âÂ
âWell... do you believe me?â you plead. His amber eyes shine.Â
âI do.âÂ
âWill you kiss me?âÂ
âIf thatâs what you want.âÂ
You nod, rising on your toes to meet him halfway.Â
When your lips meet again, it is sweet, and honest, and slow, and deep. Still, there is no desperation--no race to an imagined finish line, no clash of teeth and pawing hands. It is a kiss for the sake of itâas if it were the greatest intimacy. Not a precursor to sharing a bed, but something bigger than that in and of its own. Something just as worthy and important. For the first time, you think youâre beginning to understand romance. And while you wouldnât mind if things did escalate, you also know that Spencer knows thatâs not what matters right now. Because he actually understands youâhe actually cares. He will wait until you understand that you mean so much more than that to him.
To that end, he pulls away, gently supplanting his absence with a kiss to the corner of your mouth.Â
âIt would be polite of me to offer you a ride home, wouldnât it?â he whispers, like itâs the last thing he wants to do. You bite the inside of your cheek, coming up with reasons not to go. One ridiculous one arises from the depths of your memory that you know he wonât be able to say no to.Â
âOr... I could stay here, and we could watch one of those nerdy foreign films youâre always talking about?âÂ
A slow, perfect, high-watt smile blossoms on his face, and you know youâve said exactly the right thing.Â
âNerdy? Oh, my darling girl... Soviet-era filmography is far from nerdy. нойоŃĐ˝Đ°Ń ĐźĐ°Ńина will completely defy what you thought you knew about the life of an average Russian villager in the 1950âs.âÂ
âOh, good. Because Iâve really been meaning to change the way I think about the average 1950âs Russian villager,â you smile, already closing in to kiss him again.Â
------------------------------------------Â
epilogue
Three hours later, youâre crying because the life of the average Russian villager in the 1950âs was so much worse than youâd previously thought.Â
âIt was good, right?â Spencer asks as the credits roll over a bleak snowy sepia landscape, leaning back to get a better look at you. You sit up from where youâd been leaning against him, furiously wiping your eyes.Â
âIt was terrible! Why didnât you tell me that everyone except the kid dies in the end?!âÂ
âBecause thatâs the whole point of the movie!â he laughs, pulling you back into him. âIâm sorry. I probably should have explained how depressing this entire era of film was outside of the US.âÂ
âAnd also how long the movies were. I was not prepared for how many five minute long clips of empty fields there were going to be.âÂ
âYouâre right,â he ammends, wrapping his arms around you in a way that gives you butterflies and makes you sleepy at the same time. âNext time we can watch whatever you want to watch.âÂ
Time passes like thatâyou in his arms, watching weak light slowly flood the room with half-lidded eyes and listening to the sounds of the city waking up from the street below, underscoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Thoughts float by like leaves on the ever-flowing current of your mind, and youâre happy to let them pass until one in particular catches your attention.Â
âSpencer?âÂ
He hums, like heâd been deep in his own proverbial river of thought.Â
âWhat does pulchritude mean?âÂ
It takes him a split second to remember the bit of conversation from earlier to which you are referring, but when he does, he chuckles, running his hand over your messy hair.Â
âDonât worry about it.âÂ
And so you let it float away.Â
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you
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Attitude - Matt Sturniolo
ďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďš
summary: matt comes to pick you up for a late night drive, but you show up with an attitude.
contains: highway sex/angry sex, swearing, arguing, dom/rough matt, mentions of an eating disorder.
all consensual!!!
ďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďš
"I'm outside baby, you ready?" matt texts and i sigh. putting my phone in my pocket, and opening the front door.
the cold breeze of the night hits my face and a shiver runs through my body, i approach matts black van, illuminated by the street light shining down on it. matts inside, his face lit by his phone screen and i open the door to the passenger side, and climb inside with a huff.
"hey! you alright?" matt says smiling at me. "yeah im fine?" i say blankly and his smile drops slightly. he starts up the car and drives down the street. the awkward slience grows as matt approaches a red light. he sighs slightly "so what did you get up to today?" matt says breaking the silence and i ignore him. "y/n?" he says again louder.
"what!?" i say back angrily loudly and he rubs his eyes. "look do you want me to take you home, you seem a little bit tired." matt says calmly trying to keep himself contained. "no its fine?" i say quietly and crossing my arms.
he keeps driving along the highway, we haven't said a word to eachother in 15 minutes. suddenly matt pulls over on the side of the road and looks at me, sighing loudly. "y/n look, youve said 3 words this whole time, if your gonna keep acting like this i'm taking you home, i was really fucking excited about spending time with you but you clearly are not feeling the same." he says through gritted teeth as he looks away.
"yeah maybe i dont wanna be here! ive been so fucking tired this week and i quite frankly would rather be asleep. so take me home!" i snap back and matt stays silent, turning the car back on and turning it around. "waste of time." i hear matt mutter under his breath and breathe in shakily, dont cry dont cry. "just pull over for fucks sake!" i say on the verge of tears. "yeah now you want to talk to me?" matt growls as he slams the breaks on and pulls over. "you shouldntve snaped at me matt." i say quietly. "i snapped at you?" matt scoffs "ive been nice this whole time, and youve been huffing in the passenger seat the whole. fucking. time." matt says in disbelief.
"your such a fucking asshole, just accept im fucking tired for once, oh wait nevermind, you cant relate because your life is literally perfect." matts breath hitches in his throat "get in the back." he says loudly. i stay perfectly still. "now." matt says again and i stay still. he gets out of the car onto the highway and walks around the car to my door and opens it quickly, picking me up aggressively.
he places me on the grass next to the car, nobody on the highway can see us since are covered by the van.
my stomach flips as i feel a familiar heat grow between my legs. he kneels down behind me and reaches a hand on my lower back, forcing me to arch.
he rips my shorts down and scoffs "no panties and fucking soaked, pathetic." he says amused as he tugs my shirt over my head. "honestly pathetic." he says again before slapping my pussy causing me to yelp.
he yanks down his sweatpants as i'm on display for him on all fours, my back is arched patiently waiting. "please" i whine and he instantly slaps my ass "dont talk." he replies instantly before lining himself up with my leaking hole. he slams his whole cock into me causing me to scream and try to reach behind me and push him, instead he grabs both my wrists and hold them behind my back.
his thrusts instantly start, giving me no time to adjust to his 7 inches. he slams into me, pulling both of my wrists, causing me to arch my back even more, i scream and he quickens his pace "shut the fuck up." he growls as he goes faster. without warning i clench around his cock and orgasm, causing him to slip out and he instantly realeses his grip on my wrists, causing me to fall face first into the grass, humiliating me. i roll over onto my back and he slams himself back into me before i even have time to adjust my position.
tears are pouring out of my eye from how sensitive i am. "fuckk.." he growls as he twitches inside of me and instantly cums inside of me, thrusting a few more times, pushing it deep inside of me. before pulling out and collapsing on the grass beside me.
we lay in the cold night air for 10 minutes before he sits up, breaking the silence. "are you okay.. im sorry." he says shakily before standing up and picking me up. "i-..uh.." i stammer, still processing what just happened. he opens the door to the backseat and places me down, he quickly puts on his jeans and joins me in the backseat. "i got you my shirt, i assumed you wouldn't want to get changed into all your clothes so i have these aswell.." he pulls some panties out of his pocket "from uh.. last time." his cheeks go red and i laugh slightly "thank you baby." i say sliding on my panties and his t-shirt. he man spreads in the backseat, pulling me onto his lap.
"do you wanna talk about it.. ya know.. the argument" he says and i nod "well um i just.." i pause then continue "first of all im really sorry, i know you're tired too, and you honestly have a much harder life than me, ive just had a bad week, i dont wanna get into it but my uh, my eating got alot worse, ive found it hard to."
(30 minutes later)
after crying into matts chest for several minutes he took me to his home and fed me everything in his pantry, then cuddled with me in bed.
"are you feeling better? um, im sorry i went so rough earlier." matt says embarrassed, covering his face with his hands.
"aside from me not being able to walk up your stairs now, im fine."
ďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďš
ik i didnt color code the speech but i honestly couldnt be bothered whatsoever!!!!!
anyways hope yall liked, also request shit for me to write in my inbox
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo imagine#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolos#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fluff
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genuinely it is difficult having cultivated the like. taste in fiction that i have now that i am in a place where i'm trying to talk to people more and make friends and so on and so forth and this is the field i'm having to play on with them. i don't think anyone has to be critic-brained (i do think its good to recognize that media is Authored and to look at things with both eyes open but some people simply enjoy things in other ways and i may get irritated by that but i don't suppose its Wrong) and i have in fact met people who Will meet me in that field but it doesnt change that the field i like to play in is much different and no one is expected to meet me there in the same way i am expected to play ball with marvel fans
#i find criticism and critique allows me a way into that field actually because i do not care for marvel#but if i try to pick it apart and see what its doing i can at least Converse with people about something#but its like. idk. thats an effort i make to talk to people and i dont find people do the same thing for me#and i dont really feel like its fair for me to ask either. in some ways that is me being silly and embarrassed and shy and all that#but in other ways its like well im not going to tell the most normal people i know to read flower that bloomed nowhere with me.#it gives people the impression that i live under a rock! i dont think i live under a rock i know about lots of stuff#its just different stuff and i dont usually talk without prompting and i find it hard to talk about something#if i think the other person wont know about it and ill have to explain it to them and hope maybe they look into it#i have looked into things for other people. i don't find people usually do that for me#there are even situations USUALLY with my mother if im being honest where she will take recommendations seriously#from genuinely everyone BUT me even watching things she'd normally never touch and its like Okay .#...#ive been having a hard week. its probably going to get harder as well (i go back to work tomorrow and i wasted my time off#being in pain and miserable and not being a presence in my own life)#and there is something about showing up to work with worse sh scars than usual and belt bruises on my neck#keeping my head down and not saying anything and having no one say anything to me at all that makes me feel. i dont know#how to word it. had a little breakdown alone in my* room yesterday and found myself sobbing 'help me' a lot#and maybe thats the root of it. i dont feel like people try for me the way i have been trying and it makes me feel like i am not worth#making the effort for. and i also dont know how to express this or ask for help without looking like a brat </3 so#anyway. ignore all that please thats embarrassing.
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robin - LECLERC
pairings charles leclerc x fem!singer!reader (fc: gigi hadid + pinterest)
summary fans get a look at charlesâ family
warnings a baby + pregnancy (the baby is the entire plot point and one pregnancy mention) poorly translated french, some taylor swift songs are used as readers songs. HUGE TIMESKIPS (sorry lol)
notes we are BACK!! for the time being at least,, sorry for being gone againđŁ also im using gigi again because i had this one specific photo in mind of her pregnant!!
notes 2 kind of short but i want to try and gain some more motivation buuuut in my absence from writing ive created a rec blog so i can show you all my favorite works by all the incredible writers on here! @81folklore-library
masterlist
yourusername ⢠may 2020
liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 1,283,693 others
(im)patiently waiting to meet you tiger đŻđŠľ
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charles_leclerc you are glowing mamađ
yourusername charlieđĽš
lewishamilton cant wait to meet the little one, youâre doing amazing yn!
yourusername thank you lewisđ
user44 you are gorgeous omg
user23 i canât believe charles is going to be a dad soon
user2 it feels like its flown by
user17 i love that they call their baby tigerâšď¸
user6 me too!! i hope it sticks as a nickname
arthur_leclerc lunch again soon?
yourusername of course art! let me know whenđ¤
yourusername ⢠january 2021
liked by charles_leclerc, lorenzotl and 3,930,519 others
our little tiger blessed our lives a few months ago and we couldnt feel more overjoyed to have her. we want to thank those around us for their continued support during our first months of parenthood
tiger, we cant wait you grow into a beautiful young girl and we are already so proud of youđŻđŠľ
tagged charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc so happy i get to be a dad with youđŠľ
charles_leclerc i love you so much im so proud of you
yourusername i love you charlie, thank you for everything
lorenzotl toi et charlie ĂŞtes de merveilleux parents đŠˇđŠˇ (translation you and charlie are wonderful parents)
yourusername merci! revenez bientĂ´t, vous ĂŞtes toujours le bienvenu! (translation thank you! come back soon, you are always welcome!
user55 theyre parentsđĽšđĽš
user80 oh im sobbing this is so lovelyđđ
user17 they still call her tigerâšď¸âšď¸
user49 im confused is that the babies name?
user17 no they just call her tiger in public, we dont know her name! they started calling her tiger when they found out they were going to be parents and it seems to have stuck!!
liked by yourusername
user32 i was listening to never grow up when i saw this postđĽšđĽš
user47 congratulations guys!!
yourusername ⢠september 2024
liked by charles_leclerc, olliebearman and 5,291,649 others
happy birthday little tiger, it has been a joy to watch you grow into the wonderful girl that you are (please stop mama cant handle you getting biggerđĽš)
you are so incredibly loved and i hope you feel that every day, i hope you have a wonderful day today and everyday baby!
happy birthday love mama and papađŻđŠľ
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charles_leclerc happy birthday angel, we love youđŻ
olliebearman happy birthday tiger!!
yourusername see you soon darlingđŠˇ
lewishamilton i canât believe she is already fourđĽšđ
yourusername time really flies byđĽš
user67 SHES SO BIG NOWđ
user5 right?! i remember when yn posted her on charles backâšď¸
user52 these pictures are so cute oh my godđđâšď¸âšď¸
user60 actually my favorite family everđĽš
user21 i feel so emotional knowing ive watched this family grow
user19 is anyone else sad charles hasnt posted the annual story?
user37 theres no way he just stops,, she has so many more songsâšď¸
user66 wait im new what are we talking about?
user37 because charles and yn write the birthday captions together, charles started posting a picture of tiger with a song yn has written about children or babies etc (example: last year it was never grow up!) and she has so many more songs that would fit but he hasnt made one this year :(
yourusername & charles_leclerc ⢠september 2024
liked by lewishamilton, pierregasly and 6,280,740 others
tiger its your birthday surprise; Robin out nowđŻ
comments on this post have been limited
yourusernameđ ps robin is not tigers nameđŠľ
charles_leclerc thank you for letting me on a songđŤś
yourusername always baby
charles_leclerc we love you tigerđŻ
charles_leclerc added to their story
[song used: Robin by yn text: way to go tigerđŻđŠľ]
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#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 smau#f1 social media au#social media au#formula 1 insta au#formula 1 social media au#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#charles leclerc insta au#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc social media au#f1 insta au#charles leclerc smau
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episode eight: the battle of starcourt
He fights with it, tries desperately not to let it fall, all while his resume hangs from his mouth. âShit! Oh, Fast Times! Ever heard of it? Top three for me, Keith.â Robin laughs and Steve turns the cardboard cutout to you, wiggling his eyebrows. âOwn any red bikinis?â You flick his forehead, though you laugh as well. âIn your dreams.â âI can sleep right now and find outââ âI will flick you again.â âA kiss is preferred, but whatever.â
Summary: jonathan becomes a certified surgeon, hopper returns and is oddly sentimental (wonder what that could mean !), you and dustin show off your musical theater talents, the mind flayer becomes a track star, fireworks become weapons, and really a lot just happens so suddenly it gives you whiplash. dont worry though, the rest of your summer involves painful goodbyes and the scary realization that youre growing up. absolutely disgusting. but at least steve gets to kiss you whenever now, so hooray for that ! side note: you keep making promises to people, surely there wont be narrative foreshadowing as a result !
Rating: general, violence and swearing
Warnings: blood, swearing, major character death, graphic depictions of violence, fem!reader, use of y/n
Words: 21.2k (ouch)
Before you swing in: this was my magnum opus. truly. so so so much happens in this chapter, this episode is INSANE. it took me a while, the scenes were hard and complex, but im happy with the final results :) ive been waiting a long time to write this ending, to set up the strings for later in season 4 <3 i sincerely hope this chapter is all yall have wanted. if theres any glaring typos, pls ignore because its 21.2k words and im weak from rereading it. anyways, i have a sneaky lil link right here that will make sense at the end of the chapter (spoiler alert: it's a mixtape jonathan makes for bug). enjoy !
-
Elâs screams tear out of her body. She writhes in pain, sobs claw out of her throat. Itâs unbearable to watch, the sight of her in immeasurable pain. It breaks your heart.Â
No one knows what to do.Â
Mike thrashes in your arms still. He tries to escape your hold so that he can cover his body with Elâs. Take away her pain somehow. But you wonât let him. You know that it hurts him to see her this way, but his panic will only drive Elâs panic further.
âWhat is that?â Disgust litters Ericaâs face as she stares at the moving creature within Elâs leg. Gently you push the girl away, not wanting to crowd El too much. She needs space to breathe.Â
âThereâs something in her leg,â Mike sneers into your face as he fights against you again. Heâs furious, heâs overwhelmed, he just wants to help. âLet go!â
Your arms tighten around the boy. He isnât in the right state of mind. Frantic, you look to your left and start forming a plan. âJonathan, my switchblade is in my left back pocket. Grab it.â He stares at you, unsure what to do, and you raise your voice into a yell. âGrab it.â
Jonathan jumps at the command and his hand disappears behind you. You feel him find the weapon and pull it out. He holds it in front of you, offering it, but you donât accept it. âGo and disinfect it. Thereâs a gas stove where you found us. Heat up the blades so that we canââ you swallow as nausea fills you. âWeâwe have to cut it out of her leg.â
The moment Jonathan is gone, you turn your attention to Mike and Steve. You try to keep your voice leveled, try to contain the blinding panic that screams in your head. El needs you right now. Swallowing again, you start to speak to them. âI need you guys to talk to El. Keep her awake.â
âRight, okay.â Mike nods, and you finally release him. He hovers over El, his voice is gentle as he tries to calm her. âHey, stay awake, okay?â
You tug Steve towards Elâs legs so that he can help you move her into a better position. âGet her onto her side. Mike, put her head in your lap.â
Both boys do as theyâre told. Everyone watches, and Robin tries to make light of the situation. She rambles about a girl from her soccer team who once broke her leg. How the bone had ripped clean through her skin. The story makes you shiver, and Steve sees the discomfort. âRobin, hey. Youâre not helping.â
âIâm sorry.â
Jonathan returns, out of breath. âOkay. Alright, El?â He looks down at the girl. Tries to steady his breathing. âThis is gonna hurt like hell, okay?â
El whimpers out that she understands, and you take hold of her hand. âSweetheart, you need to brace yourself. I promise it will be over soon.â
âIâll be fast, but I need you to stay real still. Here,â Jonathan hands a wooden spoon to Mike. âYouâre gonna want to bite down on this, okay?â
Teeth bared, El clenches her teeth around the spoon. Her body braces for whatâs about to come. Kneeling next to her, you angle your body over hers and pin her arms down with your hands. You look at Mike, ordering him to do the same. âHold her shoulders. Donât let her go, no matter what.â
He pales, but swallows deeply and nods. When Mike is in position, you signal to Jonathan to start cutting. âDo it.â
âOkay,â Jonathan inhales. The knife youâve given him shakes as he holds it over Elâs wound. Heâs fucking terrified, but he knows itâs the only way. Exhaling, he cuts into her flesh. Blood pours from the wound and Elâs screams tear from her chest.Â
Everyone makes a sound of disgust and horror. Your own stomach lurches at the sight of Jonathan cutting into the leg. The image, the way Elâs body convulses, the screams she releases, itâs all too much. You donât feel yourself shaking until Steve guides your head into the nook of his shoulder, shielding you.Â
âThank you,â your breathing is shaky. You arenât even sure if heâs heard you, but Steve nods and his hand rubs up and down your back. Heâs doing whatever he can to help, being the solid surface you need to lean upon. Lending you the strength you need to hold El down and save her.Â
You hear your knife glance against the ground, followed by Elâs scream becoming deafening. Unable to stop yourself, you pull away from Steve to look at whatâs happening. When you do, you almost gag. Jonathanâs fingers are now in Elâs leg, digging underneath the flesh and muscle to find whatever the hell is in there. A horrible squelching sound fills the air. Faintly you think you can hear Will crying behind you.Â
Jonathan struggles, digs deeper into the leg, but it only seems to be making everything worse. El twists and contorts beneath you, in agonizing pain. Her screams only intensify. A tear from your eye lands on her shirt, and you force yourself to hold her down despite how desperately you want to end it.
âGoddamn it!â Jonathan canât find it. He canât find whatever the hell is in Elâs leg. It keeps moving the moment he thinks he has it. Everything is slick from blood.Â
âNo!â El spits out the wooden spoon, her voice raw from screaming. âStop it!âÂ
You canât stomach her pain any longer. The moment she pleads for it to stop, you move off of El and push Jonathan away from her. Nancy helps, touches his shoulder to alert him as well. The moment she has the room to, El sits herself up. âI can do it.
âDo what, El?â You ask, though you think you know anyways.
She breathes heavily. Tears flow freely down her face. Sheâs sitting down, one of her knees is pressed against her chest. The injured leg remains flat on the ground, her hand outstretched above it. Static, the one you always feel when El uses her powers, surrounds you. Thereâs a low hum, she grunts and screams, and yet her hand remains steady. You rub her back, offering her all the strength you can give her, in awe despite the poor timing of it.Â
To have the strength to expel a foreign object from your body. You canât imagine it.Â
El releases one final long, harrowing scream. The lights flicker, the windows behind you rattle violently. You only just barely manage to cover Dustin and the kids from the shards of glass before they explode. At the same time, a small, writhing creature shoots from Elâs leg. It stalls in the air, hovering in front of her face as she continues to scream. The creature is no bigger than the size Dart had been when Dustin first found him. The idea that it had been buried in Elâs leg makes you feel ill.Â
With the last of her energy, El flings the creature across the room. It lands with a sickening thud on the floor, before it starts to move. You watch in horror as it scurries away, releasing its own screech, until Hopperâs boot crashes down upon it, killing it.Â
Youâve never been happier to see that cranky son of a bitch.Â
Joyce stands behind him and you whimper pathetically when you see her. You miss your own mother. Itâs been days since youâve last seen her. Youâre more homesick than youâve ever been before.Â
Alongside Joyce and Hopper is a man youâve never seen before. He has glasses and a beard. As you study him, Jonathan makes a surprised sound. âMurray?â
âYou know him?âÂ
Jonathan nods at you. âHeâs the detective Nance and I visited last year.âÂ
âHeâs insane.â Nancy says, though thereâs a nostalgic smile on her face.Â
Hopper steps forward, investigating the scene. Glass crunches beneath his boots. He stops in front of you and El. He looks down at you. âAlways at the scene of the crime, huh?â
âYeah,â you blow hair out of your face. âCanât seem to ever stop myself.â Then, finally noticing his aggressively bright and floral shirt that heâs wearing, you tilt your head to the side. âNice shirt, by the way. I like the color on you. Youâve been direly needing some color in your life.â
Dustin snorts and El manages a tired smile. Hopper rolls his eyes at you, though you can tell itâs more from fondness rather than annoyance like it usually is. You watch as his eyes drift towards Joyce, uncharacteristically shy. âThanks, kid.â
âAnytime, old man.âÂ
âÂ
âThe Mind Flayer, it built this monster in Hawkins, to stop El, to kill her and pave a way into our world.âÂ
You sit on the fountainâs edge. Dustin is next to you, Steve leans against you on the other side. Mikeâs words surround you.Â
He explains what he and the others have been dealing with while youâve been gone. Innocent people have been getting possessed and turned into chemicalized substances. Their bodies melting together, conjoining to create a monster meant to kill El. With every detail Mike remembers, your stomach twists uncomfortably. It doesnât sound real. It sounds like a thing from nightmares.
And somehow Billy has become the face of it.Â
The last time you saw him, he had been a shell of who he used to be. He had been in pain. Obvious pain. Sweat had run down his flushed skin and his eyes had a frost in them unlike anything you had ever seen before. Instead of helping him, instead of telling anyone about this, you had abandoned Billy.Â
âHow big is this thing?â Hopper asks, shifting so that El can rest more comfortably against him.Â
Jonathan sighs. âItâs⌠Itâs big. Real big. Thirty feet, at least.â
âYouâve seen it?â Your eyes draw to the bruise on his forehead. The pained noise he made when you hugged him still rings in your ears.Â
âWeâve had a rough night.â Nancy whispers, eyes downcast.Â
âIt sorta destroyed Hopperâs cabin.â Lucas looks up at the chief, a poorly feigned apologetic smile on his face. âSorry.â
Steve interjects now. He asks questions, tries to make sure he understands. As he speaks with the group, your head falls onto his shoulder. Your head spins. Only hours ago you were dealing with Russians and national emergencies. Now, you and Steve try to wrap your heads around the idea of a giant human goo creature wreaking havoc on Hawkins. Â
Which, according to Max, is still very much alive.Â
But that doesnât stop Will from trying to help. âBut if we close the gate againââÂ
âWe cut the brain off from the body.â
âAnd kill it.â Lucas finishes for Max. âTheoretically.â
It sounds so simple, but youâve been here before.
Youâve heard this conversation already; you were standing in the Byersâ dining room. Steve had been next to you, just like he is now, and Jonathan had been on your other side. The people surrounding you were the same, only now Robin and Will join. That November, the conversation had terrified you. Closing the gate. Killing the Mind Flayer and destroying its army.Â
It had been the exact same conversation. And it terrifies you still, now. Only this time the fear is accompanied by an emptiness.
Youâve been here before. It hadnât been enough.Â
âHow many more times are we going to kill it?â Your head remains pressed against Steve. Your eyes donât lift from the ground. Exhaustion sags your body. âWe thought we already killed the Mind Flayer. We went through hell and back to close the gate, only for it to be opened again not even a year later. By another country. I mean,â laughter crawls out of your throat. âWhoâs to say that they wonât just open the gate again? Theyâve already done it onceââ
âLoverboy over here,â The bearded man from earlier, Murray, suddenly appears and slaps the back of Jonathanâs head. The man has a mad smile on his face, the kind that tells you heâs an insane genius. After Jonathan shoves him away, Murray stops in front of you. He looks down, a curious glint in his eyes. âHe told me you were a ray of sunshine. Gotta be honest. Iâm not really getting a real sunshine vibe from you.â
Steve subtly shifts your body so that heâs in front of you. His eyes are narrowed, body tense. âWhatâs that in your hands?â
Murray seems to now remember what he interrupted the group for. He clutches the pieces of paper in his hands, waves them in the air. âAh. These, my perfectly coiffed haired friend, are blueprints.âÂ
âThatâs just a poorly done drawing of squares and lines.â You squint at the papers. Theyâre no better than the map Mike had scribbled to navigate the tunnels last year.
âSeriously,â Murray turns back to Jonathan again. âI thought she was supposed to be the nice one.â
You open your mouth to argue, not at all liking whatever this random man is insinuating, but Hopper steps forward first. âJust start talking.â
He sighs, but agrees. Motioning everyone to follow, Murray guides the group to a nearby table so that he can lay his drawings out for everyone to see. âOkay, this is what Alexei called âthe hubâ.â Murray points to the center of the first drawing. âNow, the hub takes us to the vault room.â
âOkay, whereâs the gate?â Hopper hovers over him, attentive.Â
âRight here.â Murray now points to a random box, far from where you know the gate actually is. You bite your lip, unsure if you should speak up just yet. âI donât know the scale on this, but I think itâs fairly close to the vault room. Maybe fifty feet or so.â
You snort obnoxiously loud, getting everyoneâs attention. âYouâre so wrong that it physically pains me.â
âIâm sorry?â Murray gives you an odd look. When Jonathan and Nancy showed up on his doorstep last year, the two of them had nothing but great things to say about you. Jonathan had waxed poetry about you while Nancy had sat at the dinner table, resentful. Now, meeting you, Murray is really struggling to understand where that all came from.Â
âItâs more like five hundred feet.â Erica says. When she sees Murrayâs exasperated expression, she canât help but laugh at the old man. âWhat, youâre just gonna waltz in there like itâs commie Disneyland or something?âÂ
âAnd who are you?âÂ
âErica Sinclair. And who are you?â
âMurray⌠Bauman.â
âListen, Mr. Bunman.â You have to stifle a laugh into Steveâs shoulder. You love Erica, you really do. âIâm not trying to tell you how to do things, but Iâve been down in that shithole for twenty-four hours. And with all due respect, you do what this man tells you, youâre all gonna die.â
âIâm sorry, why is this four year old speaking to me?â
You slide off the fountainâs edge and stand. Whoever this guy is, you donât like his snippy attitude. âSheâs ten, actually, and sheâs right.â
âYeah, you bald bastard!â Lucas reprimands her, but she doubles down. âJust the facts!â
While you enjoy her quips, you gently grab Ericaâs shoulders and place her behind you. There isnât time for her to make a grown man cry. âWe went through hell down there. It wonât be as easy as walking fifty feet. The place is huge.â
âTheyâre right.â Dustin speaks up. âYouâre all gonna die, but you donât have to. Excuse me, may I?â Even before Murray has consented, your brother is already grabbing the blueprints. He sits down and starts explaining. âSee this room here? This is a storage facility. Thereâs a hatch in here that feeds into their underground ventilation system.â
âItâs how we accidentally got in.â You add, figuring any extra information could help.
âWait, you accidentally broke into a secret Russian lair?â Mike tries to hide it, but you can see that heâs impressed. You know that once this is all over, heâll grill you for details later.
âNo, we thought itâd be fun to get tortured by commies on the fourth of July.â Steve points to his swollen eye. âYes, Wheeler. It was an accident.â
âGuys!â Dustin shouts. When he has everyoneâs attention again, he sighs. âJesus. Anyways, these vents will lead you to the base of the weapon. Itâs a bit of a maze down there, but between me, Y/N, and Erica, we can show you the way.âÂ
Hopper stares down at the three of you, unamused. âYou can show us the way?â
Dustin is about to agree, but you cover his mouth with your hand. âYes, I can show you the way. The kids can stay here, but I remember everything from when we were down there. If you want all the hero glory, then fine. Fight some Russians. But I can be your navigator.â
âNo.â Hopper, Steve, Dustin, and Jonathan say at the same time.Â
You roll your eyes at all of them. âOkay, I was only talking to Hopper. The rest of you,â you glare at your brother and the two teens next to him. âArenât a part of this conversation.â
âThere isnât a conversation to be had, kid.â Hopper scoffs at you. He doesnât want to hear whatever youâre about to say. He wonât let you back down there again. From the state Steve is in, Hopper doesnât even want Joyce coming with him. âYouâre not going. End of discussion.â
âYou donât seriously expect me to let you walk into a death trap, right? I mean, I know we argue a lot, but you canât be that dumb.â Hopper has started to walk away now, trying to put an end to the conversation, but you follow him anyways. âListen to me!â He ignores you, doesnât turn around. Instead, Hopper starts gathering bullets as he picks up a shotgun from one of the guards on the ground. Groaning, you continue to chase him.Â
You donât care how annoying youâre being. Youâll nag him until your last dying breath. If he doesnât want you getting hurt, then he has to understand that you donât want him getting hurt either. âHopper, Iâm serious. ElâŚâ You look at the girl, who is far behind the two of you now as she rests near the fountain. Your voice grows thick. A wave of emotions rush over you, seeing her. Sheâs so small. Sheâs still just a kid, despite the power that lies within her. âShe needs you. Youâyou canât get hurt.â
âAnd I wonât.âÂ
âYou donât know that,â you grab the manâs shirt, but he tries to walk anyways. You plant your feet on the ground and grit your teeth. Heâs frustratingly strong. âPlease, justâyouâre her father. Youâyou canât leave herââ You stumble over your words, try to think of how to convince him. There has to be a way, a middle ground. Isnât he the one who taught El what compromise means?Â
In your nagging midst, you overhear Dustin and the party all catch up. Talk about how they missed one another. Itâs a sweet reunion, seeing them come together again after being separated for so long; your boys are together again. It feels like a lifetime ago where they were all together on Weathertop hill. Seeing them together again, it hits you.Â
The walkies. Cerebro.
âWhat if I could still communicate with you from above?â You shout, frantic. Hopper stops walking. He still doesnât look at you, but he indicates that you have his attention. Taking a deep breath, you donât waste any time. âWe have walkies. Dustin, all the kids. Itâs how they communicate with one another. Always have. What if⌠what if I give you directions using them? That way, youâll fulfill your annoying need to be a hero while I fulfill my annoying need to protect everyone.â
Your words come rushing out, messy and jumbled, but Hopper seems to understand. Heâs quiet, mulls what youâve said over and over again in his head. He inhales, closes his eyes, and then exhales agonizingly slow. When he opens his eyes to look at you, heâs resolved. âYouâre really annoying, you know that?â
A relieved smile graces your face. Knowing youâve gotten through to Hopper, you finally release his shirt. You straighten it back out, wipe some dirt off of it. It really is a good shirt, one you know was almost definitely purchased for a woman named Joyce Byers. âIt adds to my charm.â
Hopper chuckles, shakes his head, before walking over to where your brother stands with the others. He fishes a walkie from his back pocket, tosses a spare one to Dustin. âHey, heads up. Your sister came up with a shockingly genius compromise. You guys can navigate, just from someplace safe.â
Dustin sighs. âItâs not that simple.â
âThe signal wonât reach.â Erica clarifies for him.Â
You motion at them to explain faster. âButâŚâ
âBut,â Dustin quickly explains your idea. âWeâd need something with a high enough frequency band to relay with the Russiansâ radio tower. But for that to work, you need someone who has both seen their comms room and has access to a super-powered handcrafted radioââ
âDustin,â you hit his shoulder, urging him to get to the point already. âJust tell him about Cerebro.â
âI was getting there! Look, we have one already situated at the highest point in Hawkins.â Your brother shakes his head. âIf you need us to navigate, we got you. But we need a head start⌠and a car.â
âHey, chief.â You stand beside Hopper now, grinning ear to ear. âDonât you have a car?â
He stares past you, and the rage in his eyes amuses you immensely. Itâs taking everything within him not to start yelling, which only causes your shit eating grin to grow. You extend your arm, hold your hand out palm-facing upwards. This is the best day of your life. âCome on, give me the car keys, Hopper.âÂ
Sucking his teeth, Hopper drops the car keys into your hand. âI hate you.â
Hopper stands in front of you, annoyance and irritability in his eyes as he stares at you, but you donât care. A surge of warmth cascades through you instead. He listened. It means more to you than the man could ever know. Your arms find their way around him, surprising both you and Hopper, as you pull him into a hug. âThank you for listening to me.â
âYeah, well. Donât make me regret it.â Hopper says, his voice rough. He clears his throat, allows his hand to pat your shoulder. He may not know what youâve gone through, but he thinks he can understand the weight the history has left you. Itâs the same weight that he carries every day. The guilt, the anger that follows it. He clears his throat again and pulls you off of him, keeping you at armâs length. âDo me a favor, will you? Make sure El and the others are safe.â
You sniff, wipe away tears. Youâre not sure why youâre crying. âI will, I promise. Good luck, old man.â
âGood luck, kid.â He hesitates, still holding your shoulders. His breath hitches and his eyes donât leave yours. Thereâs something in them, almost a certain kindness that once reflected in your fatherâs eyes when you were younger. The gaze burns you at first, but you stare back at Hopper through it. After he seems to find what heâs looking for, Hopper swallows. He says what Joyce has always said about you; from his conversation with the woman back at Melvaldâs. âYouâre the best of them.â
More tears well in your eyes, but you wipe them away before he can tease you. Hopper releases you, shoves you in a playful manner, and you canât help but laugh. Itâs a warm moment. His words simmer on your skin. Youâve heard them before, you know what people say about you, but the words are different coming from Hopper.Â
Praise doesnât come naturally to him. Words have always plagued him; the ones he has just told you hold a weight thatâs even heavier than the guilt the two of you carry within yourselves. Youâve known Jim Hopper for three years now, but as you watch him walk over to El, soft smile still on his face from his conversation with you, you finally understand him.Â
â
Steve is waiting for you at the fountain, whispering quietly with Robin. The two of them stand off to the side, away from the others. Heâs nervous, uncomfortable. He stands with his back away from Jonathan and Nancy, who are a few feet away talking to Murray. His arms are crossed over his chest and his fingers tap together in an anxious tick youâve become familiar with.Â
The moment he sees you approaching, all the tension in Steveâs body melts away.Â
He grabs your hand the second youâre within reach. Pulling you into his chest, he kisses the top of your head. âAny updates, angel?â
You hum against him, allowing yourself a moment to bask in his warmth. Itâs been a long day. Itâll be an even longer night. âYou know Weathertop hill?â
âYeah, why?â
âGood.â You place Hopperâs keys into Steveâs hand. âYouâre driving us, then.â
Robin points at Jonathan, who sneaks glances at the three of you. âDefine âusâ. Because, no offense, he seems nice and all, but he keeps looking over at you like a lost puppy and itâs making me uncomfortable.â
âBe nice, heâs still my best friend.â Flicking her forehead, you silently scold Robin. âAnd itâs just going to be the three of us with Dustin and Erica. Jonathan and Nancy are taking the rest of the kids to Murrayâs bunker. Heâs just⌠Heâs worried. Probably wants to make sure he says goodbye to me before we leave.â
Robin makes a confused face, reminding you that sheâs new to all of this. That she hasnât had to say goodbye to her loved ones every year with the fear of them not returning. You sigh. âItâs⌠Kinda a tradition, at this point. A final goodbye before all hell breaks loose.â
âHow many times do you guys almost die on a weekly basis?â
Steve snorts. âDepends on the month. November seems to be our worst one, though.â
âAstoundingâŚâ
You leave Steve to deal with Robinâs amazement on his own, though you laugh as you walk away. Ever since the events of Willâs disappearance, youâve done everything you can to not think about what youâve all been through. However, seeing the bewildered amazement on Robinâs face the more you reveal to her, you canât help but laugh.Â
Jonathan sees you approaching him and Nancy and steps aside to make room for you. Theyâre still talking to Murray, although the man is more lecturing them than anything. He holds up a bunch of keys, explaining in great detail which one goes into specific locks. Itâs dizzying trying to keep track of it all.Â
Secretly, youâre grateful that youâre going with Steve and the others. Easier key instructions.Â
âThis one is for the second to last bottom lockââ
âMurray, can I cut in real quick?â You try to be polite about it, but truly you donât care whether or not you have the manâs permission.Â
He glares at you. âArenât you already?â
âGood point!â You grab Nancyâs and Jonathanâs arms and pull them away with a wicked smile on your face. When youâve dragged them far enough away from Murray, you wrap your arms around them both. Jonathan sinks into the unexpected embrace. Nancy stiffens. You try to ignore it. âGet to that old manâs bunker safely, please?â
âOf course, bug.â Jonathan has wrapped an arm around you. He closes his eyes, his fingers span across your back. âStay at Weathertop, get to safety. Maybe even get some rest while you can.â
âIâll try, bee.â Your laugh is wet. This will never get any easier.Â
Nancy shifts in your embrace, and for a moment youâre afraid sheâll pull away entirely, but instead she surprises you by wrapping an arm around you as well. Her chin is tucked against your neck, she still hasnât melted into the embrace like Jonathan has, but sheâs trying. Lips close to your ear, she whispers, âIâll keep him safe.â
You suck in a breath. You hadnât known how desperately you needed to hear Nancyâs reassurance, to hear her silent apology. Pulling away from them, you look at Jonathan and Nancy. âI love you. I love you both.â
Jonathan smiles, the same way he did the night you met him on the Wheelerâs porch. Nancy ducks her head down shyly, the same way she did the night she opened the door to let you into her home.Â
You squeeze their hands one last time before leaving to say goodbye to the others.Â
Lucas wishes you luck, Will hugs you as tight as ever, and El offers you a partial smile. Sheâs still recovering from whatever the monster did to her leg, so you brush some hair out of her face and kiss her head.
âSucks you were down in hell this whole time. Could really go for a brownie right now.â Mike says, a light in his eyes as Elâs head rests in his lap.
You stick your tongue out at him. âSorry, couldnât find a way to bake while getting chased by Russians with guns.â
âLame.â
âGoodbye, Wheeler.â
Then you turn to Max, who has been silent this entire time. She hugs you tightly when she sees you. âHeâll be okay, right?â
Your body goes stiff. Somehow, in the midst of Hopper and the others, you had forgotten about Billy. How heâs infected. Flayed. It hasnât escaped your notice that no one seems to want to bring the matter up, either. When it had been Will, everyone had wanted to make sure he wouldnât die if the gate closed.Â
But no one has asked the same question for Billy.Â
Swallowing, you slowly reciprocate Maxâs embrace. âWeâll⌠Weâll find a way. We always do.â
Though the words arenât meant to be a lie, you canât help but feel that youâre breaking an oath when you say them.Â
âÂ
Steve hadnât noticed what brand of car the keys belonged to at first. However, the moment his brain recognizes the iconic Cadillac logo on its keychain, he practically starts to drool. A fucking Cadillac.
It doesnât take him long to round everyone up and drag you outside.
âI was saying goodbye to Joyce,â you grumble, struggling to keep up with Steveâs quick footsteps.
âItâs a Cadillac, Y/N!â Steve can almost feel the foam pooling around his mouth. His footsteps increase even more, his body vibrating at the knowledge that he gets to drive his dream car. His dad hadnât wanted to buy him one, said that the BMW was more practical. Reliable. When Steve pushes the mallâs front door open and sees the beautiful, timeless car parked perfectly in front of him, he almost collapses. âOh, man, now thisâŚThis is what Iâm talkinâ about!â
ââToddfatherâ?â Robin points out the license plate and its horrible name.
You make a face, but Steve doesnât let her ruin his moment. Heâs ecstatic. This is arguably the best thing that has happened to him all day (besides maybe kissing you). For fuckâs sake, itâs a goddamn Cadillac. âOh, screw Todd! Steveâs her daddy now.â
Steve hops into the carâs front seat like a little kid with a toy car. Meanwhile you, Robin, Dustin, and Erica retract your heads in disgust at what heâs just said. Robin looks at you, repulsed. âDid he just talk about himself in the third person?â
Erica follows up with her own creeped out question. âDid he just call himself daddy?âÂ
âIâm choosing to ignore him right now.â You say to both of the girls, pressing a hand to your forehead as you walk to the car. Thereâs so much you donât want to unpack with what Steve has said.Â
âYou canât ignore me, Y/N.â Steve leans over the center counsel and opens the passenger door for you. âWe already established that Iâm really annoying.âÂ
âJust take us to Weathertop, please.â You buckle yourself in and make sure the kids have their seatbelts on as well. When you see that Robin has found herself in the middle seat, you snicker at her. Sheâs squished between Dustin and Erica, her knees are pressed uncomfortably to her chest.
âWhy did I get stuck in the middle?â She complains.
Steve fixes one of the mirrors before revving the engine. As he pulls out of the mallâs parking lot, he offhandedly responds, âPassenger seat is reserved for girls Iâm dating.â
Everyone in the backseat gags, and you blush furiously. You and Steve havenât had the time to talk about your relationship. Or if there even is a relationship. But heâs just referred to you as the girl heâs dating. He kissed you yesterday, or was it today?
Time has blurred together, but Steveâs hand rests on your thigh as he drives and youâre his girl.Â
There will be time to talk about all of it later. Youâll make sure of it this time.Â
Steveâs foot presses on the gas, speeding through Hawkins. Neither of you were given an exact time frame from Hopper, but he presses down harder on the pedal and sends the car flying. Thereâs music on the radio, doing its best to distract everyone, but your hands are still antsy. Youâre nervous, thereâs still so much left unspecified within the plan. Steve notices your fidgeting fingers and removes his hand from your thigh to play with them; heâs trying to soothe you.Â
You intertwine your fingers through his and smile at him. Steve winks back at you, and you admire how lovely he looks as he drives. The moment is broken when Robin shoves her head between the two of you. âWhat the hell is a Cerebro?â
âItâs basically a radio tower that Dustin built for his girlfriend, Suzie.â You explain to her, voice raised to be heard over the music and wind. âShe lives in Utah.â
Robin raises an eyebrow, intrigued. She leans back in her seat and pokes Dustinâs shoulder. âSuzie must be really special, huh? I mean, if you built this thing and lugged it all the way to the middle of nowhere just to talk to her.âÂ
Your brother preens at this, pleased someone has recognized his romantic efforts. âI mean, nobodyâs scientifically perfect, but Suzieâs about as close to being perfect as any human could possibly be.â
âShe sounds made up to me.â Erica snarks from the backseat. She looks over at Steve, tries to get his opinion. âShe sound made up to you?â
Steve hesitates for just a fraction of a second too long, and you sigh. Dustin notices it, too. âWhy are you hesitating, Steve?â
âIâIâm not!â He looks to you for help, but you only shake your head at him. All he had to do was respond promptly. This is his own fault. âIâm not hesitating! IâI think she sounds real. You know, totally, absolutely real.â
âNot really loving your uncertain tone, Steve.â You say, and Dustin nods in agreement. âSuzie is real. I mean, Iâm almost positive that she is.â
Dustin does a double take at your use of the word âalmostâ. Heâs about to say something, demand to know why youâre not certain Suzie is real, before he notices that Steve is about to miss the Weathertop turn. âLeft, turn left!â
âThereâs not a road here?â Steve argues, squinting his eyes in the dark to see whatever the hell the kid is seeing.
Dustin screams at him again to turn, and you only have a second to brace yourself before Steve jerks the wheel. The carâs tires screech on the asphalt as your body gets thrown forward. You scream, getting war flashbacks to when youâd been in the back of Billyâs car as Max had very recklessly driven you and Steve to the tunnels. Somehow, this is so much worse.Â
The car breaks through a fence and your screaming only intensifies. âWhat the fuck?â
âHendersons, where are we going?â Steve screams to you and your brother. Heâs desperately trying to keep hold of the steering wheel as the car struggles against the hillsideâs grass.Â
âUp!â You and Dustin exclaim. One hand clutches the door, the other clutches the seat. The entire car is practically at a ninety degree angle as Steve continues to drive up the hill. Itâs bumpy, your head hits the back of the seat more times than you would like, and your heart races.Â
The car makes a concerning amount of strange noises the further up the hill you drive. Robin clutches her stomach. âWeâre not going to make it!âÂ
âYes we are!â Steve does everything he can. His foot never leaves the gas. âCâmon, baby. Câmon!âÂ
âSweet talking the car wonât help!â You shriek after a particularly rough bump leaves you nauseous. The poor car strains against the giant hill. The tires, not at all made for off-roading, get caught in the grass.Â
Steve hits the wheel and curses. âCâmon! Please!â He presses harder on the gas, but the car comes to a stop. The tires move uselessly against the slick mud underneath.
Ill and desperately wanting to get out of the car, you unbuckle your seatbelt. âWe can walk the rest of the way, Steve.â He gives you a despaired look, pleading with you to let him continue playing with his new car, but you roll your eyes at him. Youâre five seconds away from vomiting, he can deal with abandoning the car. âThe Toddfather is dead. We can mourn her later.â
Steve groans but turns the car off as everyone gets out, preparing for the walk ahead. The hill is just as steep as it had been earlier this week when you were with the party. While youâre annoyed you have to walk it again, at least this time itâs night and the heat isnât as suffocating.Â
When you reach the crest of the hill, Dustin immediately runs to Cerebro. He crouches next to the radio and turns it on. âBald Eagle, do you copy? Bald Eagle, I repeat, this is Scoops Troop, do you copy?â
Bald Eagle had been your idea.Â
âScoops Troop?â You ask your brother.
He nods, proud. âThought of it myself.â
âNot bad, buddy.â
Murrayâs voice crackles over the walkie. âYes, I copy.â
Everyone lets out a breath of relief when you hear him. So far, the first phase of the plan seems to be working. Cerebro can reach all the way down to the lair; you can communicate with Hopper and Joyce. So far, so good.
Dustin starts to give Murray the directions heâll need for the vents. You and Steve roam the perimeter of the hill, weary and needing something to do. While youâre far from the Russians below you, you still donât necessarily feel like youâre out of harmâs reach. Robin stays with the kids, figuring itâs best to give the two of you some time alone.Â
You stare out into the view of Hawkins from so high above. Weathertop has always been your favorite spot in the small town. Your first summer in Hawkins, Jonathan had introduced you to the hill; you used to spend all your time up here with him. Youâd spend hours running up and down the length of it, giggling and sunkissed. If you stand still enough, you can still hear the laughter in the breeze. You miss Jonathan and being kids with him.Â
âI havenât been up here in years.â Steve stands next to you, voice soft. He stares out into the field as well, admires its beauty the way you are, though really he just wants the excuse to look at you. âForgot how peaceful it was.â
âI love it here,â you tell him. âLate in the summer, dandelions appear. They scatter the entire hilltop. I like running through them.â
âWell, when they start to bloom,â Steve wraps his arms around your waist, pulls you back into his chest. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, lingers. He hasnât held you in so long, his body aches with the weight of yours against it. âWe can run through them together.â
You smile into the embrace, lean into the kiss, tremble into the words. He will always make you weak. Itâs an exhilarating feeling, knowing someone can dismantle every bone in your body with less than six words. âI think Iâd like thatââ
From the corner of your eye, you see lights flickering in the distance. They catch your attention, standing out against the black backdrop of the night sky. You shrug Steve off, feeling a tug in your chest to walk closer to the hillâs edge. You need to figure out what youâre seeing. With every step you take, the more your vision focuses in on the lights, the more dread fills your body.
Itâs the mall. The lights are coming from the mall.Â
You freeze.Â
The lights are going haywire, flickering wildly. Itâs supposed to be deserted. Jonathan and the others were supposed to have left already, but still your stomach sinks. Something isnât right.Â
Steve stumbles after you, confused as to why you pulled away, but when he sees the mall as well, he stills. âWhat theâŚ?â
âThey left. They said they would be gone by now.â You try to calm yourself down, try to focus on the reasoning. The mall is empty. Itâs supposed to be empty. Jonathan promised you he would make it to Murrayâs safely. He wouldnât lie, he would never lie to you.Â
Robin, Dustin, and Erica come up behind you and Steve. You all stand there at the crest. No one moves, transfixed by what they see. The lights continue to flicker, miles below, impossibly too far away from help.
Someone has to help.
Your feet move, twisting your body to run back to the radio. You need answers. You need to know what the hell is going on, if everyone is safe, and Dustin is right behind you. He falls to the grass in front of the radio and frantically brings it to his lips. âGriswold Family, this is Scoops Troop. Do you copy? Over!â
He repeats the call over and over, but no one responds. With each passing moment of silence, your panic turns into blind fear. âI repeat, do you copyââ A sudden, horrifyingly familiar screech, one that has haunted your nightmares for years now, rips through the radioâs speaker. Itâs loud and gruesome and sends ice into your body. Your brotherâs concern rivals your own. âGriswold Family, please confirm your safety. Are you enroute to Bald Eagleâs nest?â
Dustin is screaming into the radio at this point, demanding answers, but thereâs only snarling on the other side. Your breathing quickens, the edges of your vision blur. Sweat trickles down your neck. You canât breathe. Jonathan is still at the mall. Mike and Will. Nancy, Max and Lucas.Â
El.
The Mind Flayer has them.Â
Steve tries to grab your hand, but youâre blind to it all. In raw desperation, you tear the radio out of Dustinâs hands and bring it to your own lips. âJonathan! Nancy! Mike, anyone.â
Your pleads fill the void of a response in the night air. Steve sits next to you, all he can do is watch as your pleading turns into begging. Your voice cracks, the words scratch your throat. Seeing your white-knuckled grip on the radio, Steve canât take it anymore.Â
âCâmon,â he takes your hand and pulls you up. Numb with fear, your body is limp. You try to fight him, you donât know why heâs pulling you away from the radio when your friends need help, but Steve has made up his mind. He takes the device out of your hands and makes you look at him. âThey need our help.â
âThatâs what Iâm trying to do!â
âY/N, look at me.â Steve motions to the car, and finally you understand. âWeâre going.â
Relief threatens to make your knees weak. Too wired from the debilitating combination of fear and helplessness, all you can do is nod at Steve and allow him to guide you down the hill. Dustin and Erica see that youâre leaving and try to stop you. âWhere are you going?â
âTo get them the hell outta there!â Steve calls over his shoulder, fumbling through his pocket to retrieve the keys. âStay here, contact the others!â
Dustin calls out your name, anxious. He doesnât want you to leave, and you hate that you have to leave him. But right now, he and Erica are as far from danger as physically possible. Weathertop hill is miles away from Starcourt. Right now, Jonathan needs you, and so do the others. Breaking out of Steveâs grasp, you run back to your brother and kiss his forehead. âIâll be back, I promise.â
You run back to the car where Steve awaits, and Robin is quick to follow. She runs after the two of you and catches the walkie that Dustin tosses her. âStay in touch,â he orders the three of you, still entirely against the whole thing.Â
âWe will!â You shout back at him, already crawling into the car. âStay safe, donât do anything stupid, and stay here.â
The backdoor closes, Robinâs seatbelt clicks into place, then the Cadillacâs engine roars to life.
â
Your hands won't stop shaking as Steve drives. Nothing he says can reassure you. The car hasnât gone below seventy miles an hour despite the narrow road, and still it doesnât feel like it will be enough.Â
âIâm sure theyâre okay.â Steve tries again to sound convincing, like his hands also donât shake as he grips the steering wheel. âI mean, they have El. Sheâs a superhero.â
âTotal superhero.â Robin unhelpfully chimes in. Her own nervousness is on display as she twists her fingers together.Â
You draw your knees into your chest, trying desperately to make yourself smaller. Youâre terrified for your friends, you shouldâve never split up. The party always does better when itâs together. Forcing air into your lungs, you stare out the windshield. âHow much farther?â
âA minute, maybe even less.â Steve promises, pressing down even harder on the gas pedal. The engineâs roar deafens your ears, and you welcome the distraction.Â
In the distance you see Starcourtâs blinding neon lights. They grow bigger and bigger with every passing second, and you release the breath you had been holding when you see that youâre close. The moment of relief is short lived, however, when you hear gunshots pierce through the night. The sound rings in your eyes and the sight of Nancy firing the gun chokes you.Â
âThere!â You point towards where she stands and Steve changes the direction of the car. The tires screech and your body thuds against the door but you donât care. All you can focus on is Nancy standing in front of Jonathanâs car, unmoving as she fires bullet after bullet. Something seems to be wrong with his car, you can hear the engine fail each time he turns the key.
You squint your eyes. At first, you canât see what Nancy is firing at, but within seconds you see the third car barreling straight towards her at a terrifying speed. In the driverâs seat is Billy. âSteve!â
âI see him!â He floors it.Â
The impact knocks all the air out of your body. It all happens so fast. Glass shatters. Metal hits metal. Your body gets thrown, your head roughly hits Steveâs shoulder as the car spins out. Your eyes squeeze shut at the momentum. You canât remember if you scream.Â
âAre you guys okay?â Steve asks, panting, as soon as he car comes to a stop. His head is spinning yet the first thing he does is look to see if youâre hurt. Thereâs some glass in your hair, but for the most part there isnât a scratch on you, which heâs thankful for.Â
âAsk me tomorrow?â Robin stares blankly ahead, still trying to process whatâs just happened.Â
It takes a few moments for you to come to. Your ears are ringing. Your neck aches from being thrown so suddenly to the left. âLetâs never do that again.â
âAgreedâŚâ Robin swallows, but quickly her mouth goes dry. âOh, shit.â
You follow her line of sight and nearly throw up. The Mind Flayer crawls over the mall and releases a thundering screech, and the size of it alone makes you want to cry. Itâs huge, bigger than anything youâve ever seen before.Â
A car honks behind you, breaking you from your terror. Your head whips around, finding Nancy in the passenger seat of Jonathanâs car. âGet in!â
Quickly the three of you scramble out of the wrecked car. There isnât room in any of the passenger seats, so you yank the trunk door open and scream at Robin and Steve to crawl in. Itâs a tight fit, you have to press your back against Steveâs chest, but itâll have to do.Â
As soon as the trunk is closed, Jonathan steps on the gas. Youâre thrown further into Steveâs chest and Robin, who sits in front of you, lets out a quiet yelp when she sees the Mind Flayer chasing after the car, not far behind. Seeing this as well, Jonathan takes a rough turn and everyone in the car tries to brace for the rest of the ride.Â
âAre you okay, bug?â Jonathan shouts over his shoulder, eyes still on the road.
âFine and dandy,â you pick a piece of glass out of your hair. Steve helps, carefully combing through your hair as well. The Mind Flayer screams, tries to lunge at the car, and your heart skips a beat. You try to distract yourself. âI crash cars every day. How about you guys, what brought yâall out here tonight?â
âBilly.â Everyone in the car says in unison.
You wince. âItâs always him, isnât it?â
No one answers. Your quips donât land. Robin hasnât looked away from the Mind Flayer yet, Steve doesnât want to look at it. Jonathan stares at the road ahead of him and Nancy flinches every time the Mind Flayerâs body thuds against the earth. The rest of the kids are silent, the echoes of its footfalls pounding against their eardrums.Â
Itâs grim in the car. Really fucking grim.Â
âDusty-bun, you copy?â A girlâs voice comes through over the radio. Itâs not a voice you recognize; never in your life have you heard anyone besides your own mother refer to your brother as Dusty-bun.
Steveâs bewildered expression matches your own. Then Dustinâs voice crackles through the radio, and your bewilderment turns into relief. At least your brother is far away from whatever the hell is chasing you right now. âI copy, Suzie-poo. It sounds much better now, thanks.âÂ
âSuzie,â Steve and Robin breathe out at the same time. You smile at them, smug. They had their doubts, but you were almost certain she had been real. Serves them right.Â
The nickname Dustin has for his girlfriend, however, is awful. ââSuzie-pooâ? Thatâs the best nickname he couldâve come up with?â
âI like bee, better.â Jonathan agrees.
Steve scoffs. âHoney has a nicer ring to it.â
âBoth of you shut up!â You donât have time for their weird âmy horse is bigger than yoursâ competition. Dustinâs started speaking over the radio again and youâre trying to listen in case itâs important. Heâs asking Suzie whether she knows what Planckâs constant is, and you have no idea how any of this is relevant to the situation at hand.Â
âOkay, so I know it starts with two sixes, and then aâŚâ Dustinâs voice trails off. Apparently this Planck thing is a number, one he canât seem to remember. âW-What is it?â
âOkay, let me just be clear on this.â The tone of Suzieâs voice makes you pity your brother. Itâs an angry tone, annoyed and fed up. Whatever sheâs about to say, it wonât be pretty. âI havenât heard from you in a week, and now you want a mathematical equation that you should know so you can⌠save the world?â
You whistle, commending the girlâs sense of self worth. âSheâs got a point.âÂ
Dustin pleads with her, promising that heâll make it up to Suzie as soon as he can. You feel a bit bad for him, honestly. He really had been trying to contact her ever since he got home from camp. How was he supposed to know his week would end up being dominated by Russians?
âYou can make it up to me now.â Suzieâs voice lowers a frightening octave. You have no idea what sheâs about to say, and a large part of you wants to throw the radio out the window before youâre forced to find out.Â
âWhat?â Dustin sounds frightened as well, which doesnât make you feel any better.Â
âI want to hear it.â
Horror fills you. Itâs worse. So much worse than you ever couldâve imagined. You know exactly what Suzie wants from Dustin. âOh, no⌠He told her.â
âTold her what?â Steve asks you, confused by this entire ordeal. Dustin and Suzie argue in the background. Sheâs insistent and your brother tries his best to convince her otherwise.Â
Jonathanâs eyes meet Steveâs in the rearview mirror, mischief in them. âTheater camp.â
âJonathan Byers, I will hurt you!â You hiss at him, utterly mortified. Sometimes you despise the fact that heâs your closest friend. He knows far too much about you.Â
Steve has so many questions, but he forgets all of them when Dustin starts to sing. âTurn around, look at what you see.â
His voice is clear and beautiful, a testament to the countless hours the two of you were forced to endure in vocal lessons. When you were younger and still living in Virginia, your mother made you and your brother attend a musical theater camp every summer. She loved having you guys perform little shows for her around the house. Said your voices were like angels to listen to.Â
The day you and Dustin moved to Hawkins, you both swore to never tell anyone about the camp. The secret would die with you.Â
Jonathan only knows about it because your mom had him video tape Christmas carols a few years ago (like the traitor that he is). It had taken several batches of cookies, numerous pleas, and a handful of threats to ensure he wouldnât tell anyone what he saw.Â
âIn her face, the mirror of your dreams.â Dustinâs melodic voice floats through the car. The song had been one the two of you sang frequently at camp, its verses simple yet fun to sing together.Â
Steve and Robin share a look of disbelief. Theyâve completely forgotten about the Mind Flayer still chasing after the car. Suzie, a surprisingly good singer as well, now joins Dustin. They sing together, in a sweet, childish way. You canât help but sing along, harmonizing with them.Â
Everyone in the car looks at you as if youâre insane, but youâre too tired and exhausted to care. Youâve had the weirdest two days of your goddamn life. Sue you for singing along. Itâs a good song.Â
That, or maybe youâre just delirious from dehydration.
After a minute or so, the song comes to a close, and youâre almost saddened by that. Youâve missed singing with your brother. You make a mental note to bug him about it later. âPlanckâs constant is 6.62607004.â
Dustin laughs into the radio, happy that Suzie finally revealed the number. âYou just saved the world!â
âGosh, I miss you, Dusty-bun.â
The two continue to go back and forth with their baby talk, which you cringe at. Itâs disgusting to overhear, although you guess you understand now why Dustin hates being around you and Steve. Youâll apologize to him later.Â
Dustinâs voice cuts off unexpectedly, which you assume is Ericaâs doing. Youâll also thank her later. The car goes quiet again. No one knows what to follow Dustinâs impromptu performance with.Â
âSo, theater camp, huh?â Steve finally breaks the silence, squeezing you gently in his arms as he teases.Â
âTell anyone and I swear Iâllââ The Mind Flayer suddenly turns around, catching your attention. It runs away, back towards the mall. It doesnât make any sense. Everyone is here, in the car. It only wants El. Unease twists your stomach. You lean forward and look at who is in the car. When you see Will and Lucas in the seat in front of you, you panic. âWhere are the others?â
Youâre practically crawling over the seat to try and get to Jonathan and Nancy. âWhereâs Max and El? Where the hell is Mike?â
Nancy tries to distance herself from your anger. âWe got separated, but theyâreâtheyâre fine. We had to guide the Mind Flayer away from the mallââ
âSo you left them?â
âWe didnât really have much of a choice, Y/N!â Nancy screams back at you now, insulted that you truly believe she would ever leave her brother behind willingly. She wouldnât do that. She knows that you know this.Â
âItâs going back for them! It fucking turned around, canât you see that? We need to follow it, now!âÂ
âY/Nââ
âTurn. Around.â
âSteve, sit Y/N back down!â Jonathanâs yell cuts in between you and Nancy. Youâre about to start spewing curses at him, but Steveâs arms are strong and force you back into his lap. Youâre livid. âHold on!âÂ
Jonathan knows youâre right. He tightens his hold on the steering wheel and stomps on the brakes. The car spins, he twists the wheel, controls it as best as he can, before he steadies the vehicle and accelerates back towards the mall.Â
âÂ
When you get to the mall, Lucas announces that he has a plan.Â
âFireworks have an insane amount of gunpowder in them.â He explains to the group, waving around a handful of fireworks he left in the trunk. Youâre all carrying some as you run through the mallâs parking lot. âIf we tie them together, we can mimic the damage of dynamite.â
âThink itâll be enough to kill the Mind Flayer?â Nancy asks, hesitant.
âIf we throw them from above, yeah!â
You kiss Lucasâ cheek, only barely managing not to trip over your feet as you run. âI think youâre a genius, Sinclair.â
Inside the mall, everyone quickly sets the fireworks up. Faintly you can hear the Mind Flayer lurking somewhere, its roars echoing throughout the building, but it hasnât found you guys yet. Lighters get passed around, fireworks get messily taped together, groups are divided in an attempt to cover the most ground. Jonathan with Nancy. Will with Lucas. You and Steve with Robin.
Youâre taping together the last of your fireworks when you look down over the railing. You almost drop the fireworks in your hand when you see Billy hovering over El. Heâs so much bigger than she is. Sheâs hardly even visible beneath him. Your stomach churns. âHeâs here.â
Thuds shake the ground. The Mind Flayer descends from the rooftop and crawls over to where Billy has placed El. Its mouth opens, preparing for the kill, and Lucas throws the first firework. âFlay this, you ugly piece of shit!â
Bursts of light collide into the monster. It hisses, turns to face the direction the firework was thrown, and Lucas throws another into its mouth.Â
Smoke begins to fill the air. The whistle of the rockets sting your ears. The light blinds you. Itâs loud and messy and fireworks rain down upon the monster. Everyone throws the bundles they have, and yet still you hesitate. Billyâs eyes flash through your mind. How the red in them overtook the icy blue. The sweat that poured from his face. The cruelty that seeped through his skin.Â
Itâs horrible whatâs happened to him. He didnât deserve to become a pawn in this maddening game.Â
But someone has to end it. You breathe in, relax your body, and bring your lighter to the first firework. Its heat licks at your skin as you release it into the air. You hit the side of its body, sending the Mind Flayer stumbling back.Â
âHey, asshole. Over here!â Steve throws a firework and its blasts almost scorches the two of you. Itâs dangerous, stray fireworks threaten to crash into everyone, but the plan seems to be working. WIth every hit the Mind Flayer takes, the more he weakens.Â
Your thumb burns as you light fireworks over and over again. The motion is repetitive, just enough to keep the fear in you at bay. Itâs deafening within the mall. Itâs exhilarating. Itâs dizzying. Reds, blues, yellows, greens all light up the sky.Â
Distantly, through the haze of smoke, you watch as the fireworks affect Billy as well. He cowers each time the Mind Flayer gets hit, but it also seems to enrage him as well. He grabs Elâs wounded leg and drags her closer to the monster.
Helplessly you wish you were down there with El, helping her. However, all you can do is continue throwing fireworks in a crazed attempt to save the ones you love. You scream with every throw, exerting all your strength to throw them as far as you physically can. But youâre quickly running out of ammunition.Â
âDustin, weâre out of time!â Steve screams into the walkie, breath heaving with soot on his face.Â
Your brother screams back, pleading with Hopper to close the gate. No one answers him, and you hold back exhausted sobs as you throw the remaining fireworks. They wonât be enough. Someone has to close the gate, sever any connection the Upside Down has to your world. Itâs the only way any of you are making it out alive.Â
Yet it remains open, and Billy has now crawled back on top of El.Â
She seems to be saying something to him, but in the cloud of smoke and explosions you canât be sure. Robin helps you light the last firework, Steve aims it, and youâre numb to it all. He throws it, it explodes into a shower of purple. Its ashes scatter around Billy, singes his back, and you see now that heâs stopped moving.Â
âThat was the last one!â Robin shouts over the screams of the fireworks. Steve runs a hand through hair and curses. There isnât anything else the three of you can do.
You run to the railing and look around, feverish to find any way to help. Jonathan catches your eye from across the plaza. He looks just as distraught as you are. Your palm hits against the metal of the railing in frustration. There has to be something. Then you see Max and Mike below, standing on the outskirts of where Billy and El are, all alone.Â
âIâm going down!â You scream to Robin and Steve. You have to get down there. Someone has to be with them. Theyâre too close to the fire and explosions and monsters.Â
âY/N, waitââ Steve tries to stop you, but you plead with him.Â
âSteve, I need you to trust me.â Thereâs a raw, overwhelming feeling within you that something bad is about to happen. You canât shake it, the feeling of loss being inevitable frightens you. For three years now youâve saved everyone, done everything right. For three years, youâve gotten lucky. You donât know how to explain all of this to Steve, the fear that has followed you ever since you first intercepted the Russian code. âPlease.â
Maybe itâs the way you say it. Maybe itâs the tears that stream down your face as you look at him. Whatever the reason may be, Steve reluctantly lets go of you. Endlessly thankful for him, your hands cradle his face as you kiss him. He makes a cute, surprised noise, and you wish more than anything that you can bask in the warmth of his lips, but you canât.Â
You force yourself to pull away. âIâll be back, take care of the others.â
And then youâre gone.Â
Footsteps echoing against the walls of the mall, you run down the stairs and straight towards Max and Mike. They hear you approach and suddenly theyâre both in your arms. They hold onto you tightly, none of you can tear your eyes away from the scene in front of you. Billy slowly stands up and away from El. His movements are labored as he walks in front of the Mind Flayer, blocking its path to her.Â
They stand, face to face, unmoving. Predator against prey. Your heart pounds in your throat as you watch, too scared to move. In an almost imperceptible velocity, the Mind Flayer extends its claws.Â
Billy raises his arms, stopping the monster from piercing through El, protecting her. âNo!â A guttural, animalistic scream tears apart his vocal chords. He screams, over and over again, as the Mind Flayer struggles against him.Â
Max freezes in your arms, you feel her choke on her gasp.Â
Everything happens slowly after that.Â
The first claw that penetrates Billyâs side.Â
The second one that cuts through his other side.Â
Then the third one, the fourth and the fifth and the sixth. They pierce through his skin, sink into the flesh. His body goes limp as heâs suspended into the air. The Mind Flayer hisses down at him, its teeth bared, and Billy, who has never been afraid, screams in the face of death as the monster fatally punctures his chest.Â
Everything stops.
âBilly!â You will never forget the pain in Maxâs scream. It will become yet another sound that haunts your nightmares.Â
As you stand there with a paralyzed Max in your arms, the Mind Flayer drops Billyâs body onto the ground. He lands with a sickening thud. The Mind Flayerâs body crashes into the walls, it convulses, spasms, leaving destruction in its wake. Then, all together, it stills and falls to the ground.
The gate has been closed.Â
Mike tears himself from your arms and runs over to El. He pulls her into a hug and she begins to sob. You and Max walk numbly over to them, neither of your eyes leave Billyâs bleeding body. He shudders weakly where he lays, a pool of blood encasing his body.Â
âBilly?â Max knees next to him. Sheâs crying, she doesnât know what to do. Thereâs so much blood. âBilly, get up. Please, Billy. Get up, please.â
You kneel next to her, at her side through it all.Â
Blood pours from Billyâs mouth. He coughs and the wet sound only makes Max cry harder. He looks up at you, his eyes are finally blue again. âTalking to you⌠sweetheart.â
But if you need anyone to talk to, about anything, come find me, okay?
Those had been your last words to him.Â
âBillyâŚâ He had tried to find you. He had been lost and scared and alone. He didnât know what had been happening to him, why his anger became venom. A sob is wrenched from your mouth. He had been all alone, and he had tried to find you.
Billy coughs again, more blood leaks from his wounds. With the last of his strength, he turns his head to Max. âIâm sorryâŚâ His chest heaves in pain, he labors two final breaths, before his chest falls entirely. It doesnât rise again.Â
Max shakes his shoulders, uncaring for the wounds there. She shakes him, begs and pleads with him to wake up, but his body remains lifeless. She lets out one final, anguished sob. âBilly.âÂ
She buries her face in your chest and sobs. You hold her, El joins. The girl tries to soothe Max, she tries to keep you together, but you break as well.Â
You cry for the boy Billy had once been. Max had told you stories from before. How he would drive her to the skate park, scare off any older boy who tried to taunt her. She told you about how he used to love surfing in California, before his mom had left them and his dad became violent.Â
Max told you about how kind Billy had once been, she knows he used to be kind. How she could see it in him still, hiding the bruises from his father to not scare her. To make her feel safe in their own home even if he intimidated her as well; it was the violence in him that was created by a monster far more vile than the Mind Flayer.Â
You cry for Max, too young to lose such a complicated loved one. You know the pain better than anyone else. How it hurts to grieve them, how it makes you feel pathetic to miss someone who has only hurt you, but the tenderness of knowing them tethers you to it all. Billy had been her brother. There is no greater tether than that.Â
You cry because you loved and have lost. You will blame yourself for having not said anything about Billyâs off behavior. You had seen the first signs of what the Mind Flayer did to him. He had been stranded on the side of the road, bloodied and bruised, blue eyes darker than normal, and you had done nothing except tell him to come find you.Â
And then you had left him.Â
Billy Hargrove died alone.
You and Max will share the burden of this guilt.Â
âÂ
Jonathan finds you first, then Steve. Youâre on the floor, kneeling with Max in your arms, two broken pieces finding solace in the other. Billyâs body lies next to you, neither you nor Max can bear to look at it.Â
âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry, Iâm sorry,â theyâre the only words you can say to the girl.Â
Max clutches your arms around her and her tears soak your shirt. El and Steve try to coax her out of your arms, but she doesnât move. She refuses to let go of you, though she allows Jonathan to drape his arms over you and hold you as your own sobs echo within the mall.Â
Nancy and the others join. They leave a wide berth around the dead body before them. Nancy sees that youâre in no condition to guide, so she takes over for you. She instructs Steve and Lucas to take Max from your arms so that they can stand the two of you up. The fire from the wreckage is quickly spreading and youâll need to evacuate soon.
âItâs okay, bug. Youâre okay.â Jonathan whispers in your ear, one hand delicate on your arm. Steveâs hands rest upon your other arm, and together the two of them are able to get you onto your feet.Â
Your body shakes, grief sits heavily upon your chest. Steveâs eyes never leave your weak frame.Â
Itâs all a blur after that.Â
Firefighters break through the mall and evacuate the building. Nancy and Jonathan do all the talking. Someone, you think itâs Steve, carefully guides you through the maze of burning rubble and bodies. Itâs raining outside and the soft thunder almost drowns out the drone of the helicopters that swarm the building.Â
There are ambulances amongst the military trucks and youâre shoved into one by a concerned medic. The woman explains to you that youâre in shock, that your body is in a state of perpetual flight. She allows Steve to sit and stay with you only after sheâs finished patching up his split lip and bruised eye.Â
âItâs going to take some time to heal,â the medic explains to you. Sheâs soft spoken, maternal, and in your numb state she reminds you of your mother. âYou kids went through a lot tonight.â
Time.Â
It always goes back to time.Â
Steve rubs your back and kisses the top of your head every few minutes. You rest your head against his shoulder, body pressed against his, a blanket draped around both of your shouldersâ. Neither of you say anything. His hand on your back is warm, it unthaws the ice that the shock has left behind. His touch grounds you, keeps you afloat.Â
A car pulls up in the distance and its doors slam. Your eyes drift up, finding Joyceâs as she stumbles through the crowd of armed soldiers and firefighters. She stumbles around, lost in some haze that clouds her once shining face. Joyce looks around in concern, trying to find her sons, and somehow you know, even before her face crumbles when she sees you, that something terrible has happened.
Her eyes meet yours.Â
Hopper isnât with her.
Will rushes towards his mother and almost knocks her down with how hard he hugs her. Joyce clings onto him and breaks into heartwrenching, bone crushing, sobs. You can hear her from where you sit with Steve, you can feel the weight of her loss like thickened water in your lungs.Â
In the other ambulance next to you, El, who had been resting in Mikeâs lap, stands up when she sees Joyce. She walks towards the woman as she embraces her son. Though El faces away from you, standing alone in the middle of the parking lot, the way her shoulders shake as she begins to fall apart indicates the remnants of her childhood have died tonight.
âHopperâs dead.â Theyâre the first words youâve spoken all night. Your voice is hoarse from disuse and the words echo, taunting you.Â
Steve doesnât say anything, only a heavy sigh leaves his body.Â
There were three deaths tonight. Billy, Hopper, and Elâs childhood. One for every year you got lucky. The fear that had been creeping through the back of your mind finally presents itself to you. It manifests in the humid July air and it laughs at you. Saving Will, closing the gate, destroying the Mind Flayer. They were debts needed to be fulfilled, and they were paid for tonight.
You see Max and Robin sitting on a stretcher across from you. Max also hasnât said anything all night, lost in her own grief and remorse. Joyce still sobs in Willâs arms. El grieves alone, mourning the closest thing sheâs ever had to a father.Â
You see Jonathan and Nancy whispering quietly to one another in another ambulance. They share a blanket like you do with Steve, but Nancyâs eyes are sunken in and Jonathanâs face is pale. Lucas and Mike sit together, too exhausted to say anything.Â
Youâre all bleeding or burned or bruised and youâre tired.Â
âSometimesâŚâ Your voice cracks, tears threaten to silence you, and you force yourself to breathe in. Force yourself to focus, to get the words out. Theyâre important, somehow, even if you donât know why. âSometimes it feels like Iâve used up all my luck.â
Steve draws small circles into your ribcage. His fingers catch on the raised skin, the scar from when you saved his life last year. âLuck?â
âWhen Will went missing⌠It was pure luck that I found him. Brought him back home.â You werenât supposed to have been with the kids when they found El. You were lucky that night, it was luck that threw you into the middle of it all. âIt was luck that saved Will last year, too. Those tunnelsâŚâ Your body shivers at the memory. It had been so cold down there, the smell of the damp earth is a scent you will never forget. âAnd now Iââ
Your words catch in your throat. Steveâs body presses against yours, he waits for you, patient. When your voice returns, you try again. âAnd now I⌠Iâm not sure how I feel.â
âWhyâs that, angel?â Steve listens, he tries to understand. âI mean, the Mind Flayer is gone. We won.â
You saved Hawkins. You saved El. You know this, and it should be enough, but it isnât. âAll the deaths that took place tonight stain everything.â
Elâs father is dead. Joyce had come so close to loving again. Max no longer has someone to call a brother. Billy, who endured so much hurt when he was a child, never got the chance to experience kindness when he grew up.Â
Billy never got the chance to become good, not like you did. You were lucky to have even become kind again in the first place. It had taken years to turn the hurt from your childhood into empathy. You had a mother who called you her sweet girl even when you screamed horrible insults at her. You had a brother who held your hand through the anger that your father left behind. You had a best friend who taught you that not everyone leaves. There had been people who loved you, who were gentle, who showed you that anger can be turned into something soft.Â
But all Billy ever knew in his life was violence and cruelty. It isnât fair.Â
âMy entire life Iâve been lucky,â your chest constricts as you confess everything to Steve. All your fear, the doubt, the insecurity. âNow itâit feels like Iâve used up all my luck.â Your fingers find Steveâs, a mind of their own as your body seeks the solace only he can bring. He doesnât know that heâs the reason you believe youâve had more luck than anyone else in their life. âI⌠I was lucky to have met you, to become your friend, someone you trust. How could I possibly have any luck left over after everything weâve been through together?â
Everything burns in Steve. He understands what youâre trying to say, he does, but he doesnât agree. Steve hooks the pad of his fingertip underneath your chin and coaxes your head up, he wants you to look at him as he speaks. He needs you to hear him. To understand. âWell, thatâs where youâre wrong.â
You wipe your eyes, uncomfortable under Steveâs open and earnest gaze. âIâm wrong?â
He hums, strokes a finger from the dip of your cheek up to the crest of your brow. He admires you, memorizes the skin beneath his. âYouâve taught me a lot of things, but youâre wrong about that luck theory of yours. See, I have my own theory that you can never run out of luck if you love, and you taught me that to love and be loved is the luckiest thing a person can give and receive.â
Steve remembers the first day he ever saw you. Heâd been thirteen, you had been twelve. He remembers how small you looked to him, yet lovely nonetheless, even back then. You had always been so lovely to Steve, kind, delicate, admirable.Â
Your eyes stare into Steveâs and he remembers the first day he spoke to you. The squeal of your bike tires as you almost crashed into his car. The way the setting sun cast you in a golden glow in the ditch you landed in as Steve offered you his hand. How, the moment you laughed at what he said, he felt breathless.Â
You smile at Steve now, the same smile all those years ago, the smile he saw when he was thirteen and believed in knights and dragons. Now, at eighteen, you smile at Steve and he believes in fates that attach people to one another and mold them into one being.Â
âAnd Iâm lucky enough to be able to love you, angel.âÂ
Steveâs words cut through you. Theyâre the good that remind you of the light of the sun that follows the dark of the night. Itâs almost like an awakening, a slow remembering, how can someone run out of luck if they love with everything within them?
You see Mike now consoling El. Sheâs in pain, but Mike bears the hurt with her. You see Jonathan and Nancy sleep soundly against each other, safe in the otherâs arms. Lucas holds Maxâs hand as Robin cracks a joke that gets the young girl to laugh. Will strokes his fingers through his motherâs hair, offering her love that only a son can.Â
Even while there is so much grief and pain within this world, the love that follows overwhelms it.
Steve stares down at you, eyes soft with contentedness. There isnât a pressure behind them, he doesnât need you to say anything to him. Heâs simply happy to have you in his arms, to have you with him now, to remind him of how lucky he is, and youâre so full of love for him.Â
âIâm lucky enough to be able to love you, too, sweet honey.â
Steve Harrington smiles the boyish smile that you fell for long before you knew what love even was, and he kisses you. He breathes you in, he has you right where he wants you.Â
You finally, finally, have come home.Â
âÂ
Time passes slowly afterwards; you take it one day at a time.Â
After the mall burns down, your job is practically all but saved. Itâs a small, bittersweet thing. Mrs. Waters had told you the news with her own bittersweet smile, mourning her dear friend Mrs. Driscoll who died in the fire. She will never know the truth, that the woman had become part of an army created by a monster.Â
âBut at least Doris would be happy that I still have my store,â the woman said as she stacked books with you at the counter. It had only taken you two days before finding yourself falling back into old habits. Your mother had wanted you to stay home for the rest of the summer, but Bookstrordinary has always been a second home to you, and you couldnât bear the silence in the house. Mrs. Waters sighed sadly, looking down. âI miss her.â
âIâm sorry, Mrs. Waters.â You squeezed her hand, mourned with her.
Hopperâs funeral took place a week after Starcourt burned down. The entire town showed up, something that you know the old man wouldâve hated, and he was crowned Hawkinsâ hero. You spent the ceremony in the very back, holding Elâs hand, so that the two of you wouldnât be seen.
Billyâs funeral was a few days after Hopperâs. Max sat alone at the front of the church, Billyâs father had been too drunk to attend and her mother couldnât get the time off of work. After the ceremony, the girl silently followed you into your car and spent the rest of the day at Bookstrordinary with you. She hadnât wanted to go home to an empty house, and you understood the feeling.Â
Max spends most of her summer with you at the store after that. Some days she helps restock the shelves, singing along to your set of tapes, bright and cheery. But some days sheâs quiet, sits in a corner and pretends to read whatever you hand her. El stops by the store sometimes, too. You read comics to her, bake her the oatmeal raisin cookies she loves so much, and gossip about Mike and Lucas if Max is having one of her good days.Â
During the first week you bake Joyceâs favorite muffins, the second week you bake her brownies. You offer her a shoulder to cry on every time you stop by the Byers home, you reminisce over Hopper and his disdain for you; she appreciates everything you do.Â
Steve spends every single day with you, it doesnât matter where you are. Without a job, he follows you everywhere. Whether youâre at work, at home, even at Jonathanâs or Nancyâs, heâs always able to find you with Robin right behind him. Nancy thinks the newfound trio is bizarre, but Jonathan canât help but laugh whenever he sees Robin talking your ear off while Steve follows you around like a moth to a flame.
Together, you all try to heal.
Two weeks pass and youâre woken up by the ringing of your phone.Â
âHello?â Annoyance seeps through your greeting. Youâve only just managed to fall asleep, the nightmares at bay for once.Â
âCome outside, angel.â
His voice wakes you up, the annoyance now replaced with confusion. âSteve?â
âWear something warm, okay?â
âWhatâ?â He hangs up, the line disconnects, and youâre completely taken aback by the phone call. You didnât make any plans with Steve tonight, at least not any that you can recall. He had spent the day with you at work, ate dinner with you and your family, before watching a movie with Dustin and going home.Â
Youâre not entirely sure why heâs called you at nearly two in the morning to come outside, but you listen anyways. On your desk chair lays the cardigan Steve bought you for Christmas, his initials stitched into the sleeve. Sliding it over your shoulders, you quickly put it on before climbing through your window.
Steveâs car is parked two houses from yours, headlights off. Thereâs music faintly playing that can be heard through the window, and a familiar melody has you running to get inside. âThe Beatles?â
They were the band that you and your dad used to listen to. His fingers would strum their songs on his guitar as the two of you sat side by side on the front porch of your childhood home. He would hum the words to you. Told you that you should know about real music.Â
When your dad left, he took the music with him.
Jonathan had tried to get you into his favorite artists. The Smiths, David Bowie, the Clash. He would sit you down in his room and play their songs over his record player and watch your reactions. While the music was good, and youâve come to love them because the artists reminded you of Jonathan, it was never the same as listening to the Beatles with your dad during early July mornings.Â
Then one night, when you and Steve had been driving around Hawkins, a Beatles song began to play over the radio. Unknowing of your history with the band, Steve started to hum along the same way your dad would do, and it was finally then that music was brought back into your life.
âWhat, I donât get a hello?â Steve is smiling ear to ear, seeing the flushed joy on your face and the cardigan you wear.Â
You throw your body over the center console and hug him. âHi, honey.â
As he drives, Steve is unusually quiet. His initial smug greeting upon your arrival is quickly overshadowed by a shy demeanor. Steveâs fingers fidget on the steering wheel, his foot taps against the carâs floor. The Beatles play softly within the car and somewhere along the route you find that the wooded scenery starts to look familiar.
Heâs driving you to Loverâs Lake.
âWhy are we heading towards the lake?â You ask Steve, but he pretends not to hear you. Instead, he turns the radio up and sings along to Paul McCartney. Your eyes wander to the backseat and notice a small box nestled against the leather.Â
A few minutes later Steve parks the car and wordlessly the two of you get out. Itâs dark, the moon reflects off the lakeâs water. Crickets sing in the air and the waves lap at the shore. Itâs a beautiful night, the July heat is masked by the nightâs breeze; your cardigan keeps you warm.Â
Lost in admiring the view, you donât notice that Steve has left your side until he returns with a picnic basket. The box you saw earlier is tucked underneath his arm. You tilt your head at him, quizzically. âWhat are you planning, Harrington?â
Steve grabs your hand. âYouâll see.â
He leads you down to the lakeâs edge where the water meets the sand. Thereâs a trail that Steve once found when he was nine. It had been during the last fishing trip he had ever taken with his dad. The man commanded him to hook the worm and Steve cried. Embarrassed and ashamed, Steve had run towards where the sand met the woods and found a meadow hidden within it.Â
There are flowers in full bloom within the meadow, and you gasp when you see their vibrant pinks and blues. The flowers are delicate yet their stems are long. Steve sets the picnic basket down and pulls a blanket out from it. He sets it onto the grass and lays down, motioning you to join him.Â
The stars are clear tonight, shining bright above the two of you. They almost seem to wink at you as you lay side by side with Steve. His hand is in yours, as it always is these days, and with only the stars as his witness, Steve whispers into your ear, âThank you for staying.â
His breath warms your neck, and you know, without having to ask, what heâs thanking you for. Your promise to him last year, that youâd wait for him. He hadnât been ready. The timing of it all wouldnât have been right, but you knew, even back then, that youâd wait forever for Steve Harrington if it meant youâd receive even half of his love.Â
Take your time, Iâll be here.Â
âIt was the easiest thing Iâve ever done.â The words come easily to you, raw with truth and vulnerability.Â
A soft sigh escapes Steve. He turns his head to you, eyes finding yours, and youâve never seen such tenderness within him. He opens his mouth, sighs out the words youâve longed to hear again since that night at Starcourt. âI love you.â
âI love you, too.â You donât think youâll ever tire of saying those three words to him. Thereâs so much love within you, so much youâve ached to give out ever since you were a little girl, and now you finally can.Â
Steve kisses you with a softness that releases a sigh from your own lips, and you know heâs wholly, truly, yours now. With a swift motion, Steve places himself on top of you as you kiss. His weight presses down on you, one hand cups your cheek and the other steadies him. His hair tickles your face, his cologne clouds your brain, and the sweet taste of July honey coats your tongue.Â
Minutes, maybe even hours, pass as you kiss Steve. Itâs lazy, no sense of urgency as your lips move against his. Itâs warm, itâs soft. Eventually he manages to pull himself away from you, heâs brought you here for other reasons tonight.Â
âHold on, I got you something.â Steve fixes his hair, clears his throat, and pulls out a container from the basket. He reveals a freshly baked loaf of banana bread on a beautiful glass plate. Thereâs a small, lopsided candle on top of it.
âYou came prepared tonight,â you tease him, still breathless from the kisses and love.
âMy mom did, actually. Sheâs the one who made this.â You sit up and look at Steve, wide eyed. He laughs at you, finding your stunned reaction endearing. âRelax, angel. She really wanted to bake you something, and I had to make up for allowing Russians to ruin your seventeenth birthday, didnât I?âÂ
Words escape you. Steveâs mom made you banana bread, a woman you have still yet to meet, though youâve only heard fond stories about. She had insisted on doing this kind thing for you.Â
Steve lights the candle and holds the plate up for you. âCâmon, make a wish, Y/N.â
You close your eyes, smiling, and the wish comes easily to you.
For time to stay like this, forever.
You blow the candle out, Steve cuts the banana bread, and you take turns feeding it to one another. The dessert is delicious, freshly baked and still warm. Itâs sweet and nostalgic and everything you could ever ask for.Â
When youâve finished eating, Steve claps his hands. âAlright, now onto the real event of the night!âÂ
You raise an eyebrow. âWhat, the kissing wasnât enough?â Steve makes a panicked noise and you laugh at him. âI was teasing, honey.â
âYou terrify me,â he huffs, before revealing a box from behind him, the very same one youâve been curious about all night.Â
âI aspire to be terrifying,â you stick your tongue out at Steve before turning the box over in your hands. Itâs light, lighter than you expected. âIs this my gift youâve been bragging about?â For months leading up to your birthday, Steve had been boasting about this amazing gift he had thought of, how he had convinced the party to help him.Â
âOpen it and find out.â Thereâs a glint in Steveâs eyes, yet you also see the shyness return as well. Heâs nervous to see your reaction, he wants more than anything to have gotten this right.Â
You roll your eyes at him but open the box. It isnât wrapped like your other gifts from Steve have been. Instead the box is made of a dark oak, and its lid opens with a soft click. The silver catches your attention first. Itâs a small chain with two silver ovals on opposite sides. In between the two ovals is a collection of charms.Â
âIs thisâŚ?â The charms are all roughly the same size, but each vastly different from the other.Â
Steve nods at you, rubs the back of his neck. âItâs a charm bracelet.âÂ
Moonlight reflects off of one of the charms, revealing it to be a frog, another one to be a cookie, and slowly you piece it together. Thereâs six charms, one for each member of the party. âSteve.â
âHave you figured it outâoomph!â He lands with a thud on his back as you attack him with a hug. Slightly out of breath, he laughs and wraps his arms around you. âIâll take that as a yes, then.â
âHow did you get the kids to do this?â You lay on top of him, blinking back tears as you hold the bracelet delicately in your hands to admire it.Â
Steve sighs in exasperation. âMoney and a lot of begging. They were all for picking out charms for you, I just had to pay them to spend more than five minutes with me at the jewelry store.â
You laugh, that sounds exactly like them, and you love those kids with everything within you. Holding up the frog pendant, you know which kid picked it out for you. âMike?â
âYup. Said something about Kermit the frog?â
âHeâs such a little shit,â you say with fondness. Last year, when Billy had nearly choked you to death, your voice had been lost and Mike wouldnât stop referring to you as Kermit. Your fingers skim over the pendant next to it, a simple blue one, and you smile. âDustin?â
âHe told me about your code blues.â Steve rubs your back, content to have you resting against him. You hum, touched that your brother trusted Steve enough to confide this to. No one else knows about your code blues, itâd been a special thing just between the two of you.Â
With your ear pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, Steve explains the rest of the charms to you. His voice is lazy, slow, lilting with fondness, and his hand a firm weight against your back. Max chose a knife charm to remind you of how badass you are. Will chose a bee, because heâll always be your little bee. Lucas was able to find a small, white flower that resembles a dogwood, knowing that itâs your favorite. As for El, she chose a cookie based solely on her love for the ones you bake for her.Â
âWhat about the ovals?â You ask Steve after heâs done explaining what the kids chose for you. The ovals are slightly larger than the charms, almost serving as a divider between them. The metal is smooth underneath your fingers.Â
He brushes hair out of your face and winks. âTurn them over.â
With slight confusion, you do, and discover that theyâre engraved. Etched onto the back of one oval is honey, and, on the other, angel is written. Theyâre your names for one another, nestled between charms from the kids you love so dearly in your life; this is a gift made from pure, unadulterated love.Â
âOh my god,â itâs perfect, absolutely perfect. Your lips are all over Steveâs face before he even has time to blink. You scatter millions of kisses upon his face, drown him in them, With every kiss that you press upon his pretty skin, you shower him with praise. âThank you, thank you, thank you!âÂ
Steve laughs and tries to move his face away, but really he leans into the onslaught of love. His cheeks burn from smiling so hard and from the heat you always make him feel. He grabs your waist and enjoys the skin he holds. âYou like it?â
âI love it, Steve!âÂ
âDoes this make up for the whole Russian fiasco?â He asks, only joking a little bit. He still feels awful for dragging you into everything, but with time heâs learning to forgive himself. Before he overthinks it, Steve adds, âAm I now the best boyfriend in the world?â
His words make you blush, and you donât think youâll ever get used to Steve being yours. Youâve waited so long to be his, to hold him and kiss him like you do now. You cherish the feeling, the sensation of knowing a boy loves you the way that Steve does. âYouâve definitely redeemed yourself for getting me trapped in a Russian lair on my birthday. And youâre definitely the best boyfriend in the world.â
Steve, despite being underneath you, does a victory dance and whoops into the night. Heâs elated, his face shines when you look down at him, and youâve never been so in love before. You once thought you knew what love was, what the burn of it could feel like. But now, with Steve lying beneath you as his arms keep you from falling, you know that love is airless, light, cool to the touch and warm on the skin. Love isnât supposed to hurt, itâs supposed to feel like coming home after a long day of being out in the cold.Â
After Steve helps you put on the charm bracelet, you lay together in the meadow. The lakeâs waves can be heard in the distance. Crickets chirp their greeting, the stars wink hello above you. Their noises serve as a lullaby to you, soothing you to an almost sleep-like state. You nestle your head into the crook of Steveâs neck and let out a sleepy exhale.Â
Feeling this, Steve strokes the back of your hair. âYou fallinâ asleep on me, Henderson?â
âIâm resting my eyes.âÂ
âVery convincing,â he chuckles, tightening his embrace to try and stave off the cold that creeps in. He lets out his own tired sigh, your weight upon him has always put him at ease. He inhales, smells your perfume, and he canât believe that heâs here right now with you. After everything heâs been through, he canât believe that somehow heâs come out of it with you next to him. Last year he thought he had lost you forever. This year he can see forever with you. âI think I like this July a whole lot better than the last one.â
Itâs meant to be a joke, a gentle tease. More of a reflection of how far the two of you have come in such a short amount of time, but still Steveâs words remind you of something. Youâve never told him the real reason why you left last summer. Why you ran away from him.Â
âI was scared, last summer.âÂ
Steve tilts his head at you. âScared of what?â
âI was scared of falling in love with you,â the confession lifts from your chest. It hangs over you both, the weight of it tangible. Steveâs eyes soften, he lets out a soft oh, and you duck your head shyly. âLast July, you wereâŚÂ Everything. You were everything to me, and it terrified me. I was still figuring my feelings out for Jonathan back then, you had Nancy, but you were so lovely and I justâI couldnât do it. It wouldnât have been fair, not to anyone, but Iâm sorry.â
âY/NâŚâ Steve hadnât known. All this time, he thought he had done something wrong. But really you had been trying to protect yourself, protect him, and he understands now why you had to leave him for a while. He sees the distress on your face and he shushes you, kisses your forehead. âDonât apologize, okay? I honestly wouldâve run away too, if I were you. Iâm just⌠You came back to me, in the end. Thatâs all I care about.â
Heâs too good for you. âI still hurt you.â
âYouâre human,â Steve brushes more hair out of your face. âWe all make mistakes. You ditched me for a few months and I almost got you killed by crazy Russians. I think weâre pretty even now.â
Despite the guilt in your throat, Steve manages to draw a smile from you. Itâs what heâs always done best. Even on the day Will had gone missing, he had been the one to ease the loss by pretending not to have known your name. He had made you laugh when you thought you could never laugh again. Steve would do anything to get you to smile, and you cannot imagine where youâd be without him. âWe always even our debts, huh?â
âItâs tradition at this point.â
And you laugh, full-bellied and loud and recklessly. It echoes into the night, Steveâs reverberates into your ears, and youâre happy.Â
âÂ
A month passes, and in the mid-August heat, Jonathan knocks on your window late one night.Â
His knuckles rap against the glass and itâs a sound reminiscent of before, when you were little kids who didnât know how yet to hurt each other. You crawl out of your bed, curious, though happy nonetheless to let him in.Â
You go to open your curtain, ready to tell the boy all about what Dustin had done today, unaware that when you open the curtain, everything will change.Â
Jonathan is crying.Â
âBee, oh my God.â You quickly open the window and he manages to crawl through, though sobs wrack his body. Heâs shaking, and for a terrifying moment you think that something has happened to Will. âIs everything okay?â
He stands before you, chest heaving and eyes red, and with two words your world comes crashing down. âWeâre moving.â
Time stands still. Youâre seventeen and your childhood is coming to a close.
Somehow youâre holding onto Jonathan as he explains everything through his tears. Heâs moving in early September, going all the way to California. He and his family are leaving Hawkins, leaving you.Â
Your legs give out, or maybe itâs Jonathanâs, but you hold each other on the floor, intertwined, mourning the loss of growing up together. Your tears mix with his, his breathing becomes yours. The two of you cling onto each other, scared that one day soon youâll never be able to do this again.Â
âWe need toââ Your breathing is shaky, your eyes sting. You feel a desperate franticness claw out of you, you grasp at what little sanity you have left. âWe need to promise each other thatâthat weâll see each other every day before you leave, in some capacity. Itâit doesnât matter how butââ
âIâve already talked to Nancy about it, bug.â Jonathan wipes your tears, lets his own fall freely. He knew youâd say this, and he loves you all the more for it. âItâs been agreed.â
You nod, relieved. It isnât much, it still doesnât change the fact that Jonathan will leave you in the end, but at least youâll make every last second with him count. Youâll move into the Byers home if you have to, theyâre your family. Heâs your person. Heâs embedded into your skin, heâs nestled between your bones.Â
Last year you and Jonathan promised you would never let go of each other.Â
The year prior to that you promised each other that nothing would change between you two.Â
Now, holding onto each other as the world youâve been building together for five years comes crumbling down, you have to believe that the promises will be enough.
â
Steve and Robin rope you into helping them find a new job.
You innocently pointed out that Family Video was hiring, figuring it was an easy enough place to work at, and suddenly the two of them had shoved you into Steveâs car with resumes in their hands. Honestly, you shouldâve seen it coming.Â
âYou put your mom down as a reference?â Robin questions Steve as you all get out of the car. She had agreed to proofread it after you politely declined, stating that if you proofread anything Steve wrote, it might ruin your relationship.Â
âYeah, why not?â Steve slams his door, straightens his shirt, and grabs your hand as you walk inside. âSheâs like, super well respected.â
You share a look with Robin. âRich kids,â you both groan at the same time. As much as you love Steve, youâll neve quite get over how well connected he is. Itâs bizarre and slightly terrifying how much the Harrington name can get you in this town.
âWhatever, call me a rich kid, but itâs my car you guys get free rides in.â
Robin rolls her eyes. âYouâre such a dingus.â
âI didnât ask to be here,â you remind Steve, though you thank him when he holds the storeâs door open for you and Robin. âI think this could count as kidnapping.â
Robin bumps her hips against yours. âNot technically. Besides, I thought we agreed to leave our kidnapping days behind us after Erica?â
You shove the teen and follow her into the store. You look around at all the movies, slightly impressed. Youâve never really visited Family Video before, only really stopping by if you were picking up Dustin from the arcade next door. The store is nice, albeit small, but you can see Steve and Robin enjoying themselves. Thereâs good music, few customers, and the uniformed vest is less mortifying than Scoopâs small shorts and sailor hats. âItâs not so bad in here.â
âWhy thank you, pretty lady.â A greasy looking man at the register smiles at you, leaning over it in a very unappealing manner. His name tag informs you that his name is Keith.
Steve immediately steps in front of you and stares the guy down. âShe doesnât need you thanking her, buddy.â
You can tell that he wants to say more, but you see the âgeneral managerâ on Keithâs name tag and quickly try to deescalate the situation. If your idiot boyfriend wants the job, he canât piss off the guy hiring. âSteve, why donât we take a look around while Robin does all the talking?â
âWhatââ He doesnât have a chance to argue, youâre already pulling him down a random aisle, throwing a quick âgood luck!â to Robin as you leave.Â
She talks with Keith, and it seems to be going well. She shows him their resumes, smiles at him kindly. before she shouts across the store to Steve. âDingus, what are your three favorite movies?â
Steve nearly drops the movie he had been looking at. âUh, Animal House?â You can practically hear Robinâs disappointed sigh from where you stand, and Keith looks unimpressed. Panicked, Steve whispers to you, âWhat are my favorite movies?â
âI donât know!â You hiss, frantically trying to get this poor man a job. âJust, name two other movies. Animal House canât be too bad, right?â
âStar Wars,â Steve manages to get out, now walking back to the register. You stand next to him, looking nervously at Robin, who makes a pained noise at his responses.Â
The manager stares blankly at him. âA New Hope?â
âA new what now?â
You drop your head into your hands and sigh. Heâs hopeless. Already knowing itâs a lost cause, you mumble to him, âItâs a Star Wars movie, Steve.â
He snaps his fingers. âRight! Yeah, itâs the one with the teddy bears, isnât it?â Steve makes what you think is supposed to be an Ewok sound, which only makes you sigh again. Sensing heâs fucked up, Steve tries to backtrack. âNo? Uh⌠Oh! The one that just came out, the movie. The one with DeLorean and Alex P. Keaton and heâs trying to bang his mom.â
âOh, dear.â Itâs a trainwreck, one you canât look away from, and Robin can only shake her head at you. âSteve?â
âYeah?âÂ
âStop talking.â
âUh, yeah.â Steve clears his throat, he knows heâs rambling. Had he known he would have a goddamn pop quiz about movies, he wouldnât have dragged you here for the interview. âThose are my top three. Classics.â
Keith looks between you, Steve, and Robin. He points to Robin first, âYou start Monday.â He points to Steve, âYou start never.â And then he points to you, âYou can start whenever.â
âOkay, I get why youâre telling me no,â Steve waves a hand in front of you, âbut she didnât even apply!âÂ
Youâre also confused by how this day is turning out, and you look at Robin, wide eyed and pleading. Sheâs good with people, Keith seems to like her. When she sees you silently begging her to fix this, Robin sighs and steps in front of Steve. âWill you just, um⌠Will you guys give us a minute?âÂ
âWhy?â Steve doesnât move, and you want to throw a shoe at him.Â
âLetâs go, pretty boy.â You grab the back of his shirt and yank him back to the aisle of movies. He doesnât fight you, he simply accepts his fate and allows you to drag him away. Before turning the corner, you nod at Keith. âThanks for the job offer, but you should really give it to the guy Iâm currently dragging.â
Robin snickers at Steveâs offended huff as the two of you leave, before she starts trying to convince the manager to let Steve work there. From where you stand, it seems like a heated discussion. You try to lean closer, nosey, and while youâre distracted, Steve runs into a life-sized cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates wearing a red bikini.Â
He fights with it, tries desperately not to let it fall, all while his resume hangs from his mouth. âShit! Oh, Fast Times! Ever heard of it? Top three for me, Keith.â Robin laughs and Steve turns the cardboard cutout to you, wiggling his eyebrows. âOwn any red bikinis?â
You flick his forehead, though you laugh as well. âIn your dreams.â
âI can sleep right now and find outââ
âI will flick you again.â
âA kiss is preferred, but whatever.â
âÂ
When the Byers move, you spend the entire day fighting back tears as you help them pack.Â
You spent the night in Jonathanâs room, both of you dreading the morning to come. Neither of you had slept, instead spending the entire night taking turns sharing your favorite memories together. The day you met. The time a dog chased you. When Jonathan mistook your sweater for his and wore it to school. Late night drives. Movie nights with your brothers. You relive it all that night.Â
As the morning sunlight began to stream into Jonathanâs room, the warmth the memories brought started to fade away. Slowly, as the sun rose, you and Jonathan packed his room. You helped him organize his vinyls, sort through his mixtapes. When he isnât looking, you steal a few t-shirts and flannels from his closet. He wonât notice theyâre gone until heâs halfway to California.Â
When it gets too much, seeing all of Jonathanâs life dwindling down to only a few boxes, you wander into the living room and help Joyce pack as well. She sees the tears in your eyes and gives you things to do, but eventually you canât take it anymore. You go into Willâs room, and itâs the same. You cry, he cries with you, and itâs bittersweet. The rooms empty, the boxes grow.
Elâs room is the hardest to pack, she has so few items to call her own, and youâre both silent as you move through the room together.Â
With each box that you tape full of things you grew up with, you feel a piece of your childhood being packed away as well. The plates you used to eat off of, the books you used to bring from your job, the toys you passed down to Will. Itâs all there, pieces of you frozen in time.
As you tape a box labeled âgamesâ in Jonathanâs messy handwriting, you hear Max and Lucas singing in the living room. The sound makes you smile. Itâs one of Maxâs better days, sheâs teasing Dustin for singing with Suzie, and sheâs in a good mood. The rest of the party keeps her occupied. The kids all arrived as early as Joyce allowed them to, Nancy and Mike were the first to knock on the door.Â
You place the box next to the others and walk towards Jonathanâs room. Heâs leaning against its door frame with Nancy beside him, and you join them. You stare at the empty room, the one youâve called your second home ever since you were twelve. It hurts, seeing it stripped of everything.Â
All of Jonathanâs boxes are in the living room, filled with the things that make him who he is. Thereâs a drawer in your room of things Jonathan has left over the years, and youâre never giving them back. Theyâre all you have left of him.Â
You and Jonathan take in his barren room, and you sigh against the door frame. âItâs so⌠empty.â
Nancy crosses her arms. âIs that everything?â
âI guess so,â Jonathan stuffs his hands in his pockets. His room feels cold somehow, its emptiness devoids it of the warmth it once had. He can still hear your laughs echoing in the floorboards, he can still smell your perfume that clings onto the walls. Thereâs scuff on the closet door from the time the two of you thought itâd be a good idea to play blind-folded baseball in the small room.Â
Jonathan steps into his room, taking it all one last time. The sunlight from his window illuminates his silhouette, making him appear even smaller within the room. âSeventeen years of my life⌠packed up in one day.â
His voice is melancholic, his body is sad. You nudge Nancy, nod your head in Jonathanâs direction, urging her to go after him. She nods, understands that youâre telling her to say goodbye, giving them the space to do so. She smiles at you appreciatively.
You do it because they love each other, but selfishly a part of you leaves because you canât say goodbye just yet.Â
âThank you,â she whispers, following after Jonathan.Â
You find El as sheâs leaving Joyceâs room. Sheâs holding a piece of paper, clutched closely to her chest. There are tears in her eyes, though you know better than to ask why. Itâs a sad day for everyone, youâll let her grieve on her own. However, that doesnât stop you from pulling the girl into a fierce hug.Â
âIâll miss you so much, sweetheart.â You mumble, kissing the top of her head. âI donât know whoâs going to paint my nails now.â
El laughs through her tears and holds you tight. âI can ask Mike to.â
You kiss her head again, close your eyes, and pray to whoever is above that this girl will stay who she is forever. That she will never change. Her kindness is genuine, her joy is admirable. All her life she only knew cruelty, and yet she still came out of it so full of love. âIâd love to hear how that goes.â
âI will write you,â El promises, and you nod eagerly at her. She pulls you in for one last hug before finally releasing you to go see Joyce.Â
The woman greets you with a tired smile when you walk into her room. Sheâs kneeling on the floor, folding clothes. Theyâre baggier than what she normally wears, darker, and you finally realize that theyâre Hopperâs.Â
A lump forms in your throat. She shouldnât be doing this alone, packing away the remnants of his life. âHere, let me help.â
Joyce accepts, and together you sit in comfortable silence as you go through the clothes Hopper left behind. They still smell like him, old cigarettes and whiskey. Itâs a nostalgic scene, a part of you wishes you could keep one of his shirts. He had been dear to you, regardless of the constant bickering you faced with him.Â
âI donât blame you, you know.â Joyce speaks softly next to you, catching your attention. âAt all.â
You look up at her, sucking in a breath. âI donât⌠I donât know what you mean, Mrs. Byers.â
âThe guilt, honey.â She places a hand on your arm, gentle as she always is with you. âI know you blame yourself for what happened to Will, but you shouldnât. You have to let go of it. I wantâŚâ Joyce pauses, looks into your eyes the way a mother does to her daughter. âI want you to promise me that youâll live the life that you deserve, because youâve spent half of your life making sure my boys lived the lives that they deserved. Can you do that for me?â
âIâŚâ Youâre crying, you donât know what to say. For years youâve carried the guilt of Willâs disappearance, and for even longer youâve done everything you could to ensure that he was loved. That Jonathan was loved. Never once had it felt like a burden to you, but Joyceâs words undoes something in you. âI promise.â
Joyce pulls you into her arms and hugs you, tears in her own eyes. She strokes your hair, hugs you as sheâs always done since you were a little girl. She echoes the final words that Hopper told you. âYouâre the best of them.â
Youâre not sure how long you cry in Joyceâs arms, but when she soothes you and wipes your tears away, she tells you to go find Will. Theyâre leaving soon, heâll want to see you, and you wish the woman one final goodbye before going to find her son.Â
Will ends up being in the hallway, you find him just after heâs said goodbye to Mike. You note the longing in his eyes, the uncertainty in his posture as his friend leaves. Thereâs a wistful look on his face, one that you once had on your own when Jonathan was around. Even if Will may not know yet, you do.Â
âHey, little bee.â
He turns around, the softness in his eyes when he sees you makes you homesick. âY/N!â
Will buries his face in your chest, and you hug him just as tightly back. Heâs grown so much since you first met him. Heâs no longer the shy little boy who had been afraid of his own shadow, and you canât believe you wonât get to finish watching him grow up. âI swear, youâre going to be taller than me next time I see you. Wonât be able to call you little bee anymore.â
âIâll always be your little bee,â Will squeezes you tighter, afraid to let go of you.Â
âGood,â you ruffle his hair, making him to laugh. âIâll miss you, but Iâm sure you already know that.â
âIâll miss you, too.â Willâs voice is wet, more tears come. He pulls away from you, he looks as if he wants to say something, but he stops himself. As if heâs afraid of something.
You frown. âHey, what is it?â
âIâm scared,â The words rush from his mouth. âWhat if⌠What if I donât make any friends?â He lowers his voice, looks around nervously, before trusting to say the words out loud to you. âIâIâm different, Y/N.â
Willâs fear hurts you to see, you wish you could do more, promise him that it will all be okay, but you canât. Instead, all you can do is kiss his cheek and hope he can feel all the love you have for him within it. All you can do is remind him that you will love him through it all. âYouâre the bravest kid I know. I have no doubt that youâll be fine. I mean, youâll have Jonathan and El with you, but if you ever need me, Iâm just a phone call away. I love you, and that will never change.â
You stroke the boyâs cheek with your finger, and he leans into the gentle touch. âIâm rooting for you, always.â
Will squeezes you tight when he hugs you for the last time. He thanks you, his body relaxes into yours, and you know that in the end heâll be okay. Heâs a brilliant kid, heâs been through more than anyone else his age ever has. Heâs resilient, his kindness is his strength, you just hope that he can recognize that himself one day.Â
As you pull away from the hug, Willâs eyes catch on someone, you turn around. Itâs Jonathan, standing by the front door, waiting for you.Â
Itâs time to say goodbye.Â
Taking a deep breath, you walk towards him, and Jonathan takes your hand and guides you to the porch outside. Everyone else is still inside, packing. You sit side by side in silence, absorbing the final remaining moments alone with each other. Saying goodbye to your childhood best friend leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.Â
A ladybug crawls on a leaf next to you, a bee flies past you and lands on a sunflower nearby, and a bird chirps in the blue sky above. You rest your head on Jonathanâs shoulder, he presses a kiss to your temple. Your fingers interlock and the cool September air surrounds you.
âI made you something,â Jonathan breathes out, clears his throat. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a mixtape, its front covered with a piece of paper listing all the songs on it. âI, uh, used the money I won from the betting pool to make it. Dustin was pretty annoyed with me for winning.â
You snort at the image of your brother berating your friend for winning a betting pool about how long itâd take Steve to ask you out. Taking the mixtape from Jonathan, you read the songs. Thereâs eight songs on it, the first one being a Beatles song from your childhood; you donât know how Jonathan knew that. Though most of them are familiar, the writing on the paper is old, faded with age. âHow long have you been making this, bee?â
Jonathan looks away from you and swallows. âA while, I guess. Listen to it after I leave, okay? That way, if you hate it, Iâll never have to know.â His demeanor is odd, thereâs something heâs not telling you, but itâs your last day with him. You leave it alone for now, not wanting to ruin it.Â
âYouâre not allowed to find a new best friend.â You tell him instead, the silence becoming too much to bear. Itâs a joke, though truthfully you donât want Jonathan to find another best friend. Heâs supposed to be yours, only yours, and youâre supposed to be his.Â
âI wouldnât dream of it.â Jonathan lets out a soft laugh, and youâre going to miss feeling the way his body moves as he does so. He sucks in a breath, releases it slowly, and shakes his head. âI mean, we were kids together, bug.â
You start to cry, and he does as well. Youâve never had to say goodbye to each other before. Not like this. The two of you sit on the porch of Jonathanâs childhood home and cry. You cry into his neck, he buries his face into your hair, and itâs all so unfair.Â
Jonathan touches his forehead to yours. You look into his eyes and know that your childhood will always live within him, and his within you. Jonathan brings his finger up to your bee necklace, his ladybug ring knocks against the pendant. The jewelry glistens in the sunlight.Â
âBee, we were more than just kids together.â
And itâs true. You were everything together. Now, you have to figure out how to be everything while apart.Â
âÂ
The last of the boxes are placed in the moving van. Everyone is crying, youâre all gathered around one another, hugging and saying goodbye.Â
You hold El tight and whisper good luck to her. You remind Will that everything will be okay, knowing how scared heâs been of high school and remorseful that he has to do it all alone. The kids all cry as they share the final hugs, Jonathan and Nancy cry as they hold one another. Everyone says goodbye, and you watch them with tears in your eyes. You turn to Joyce to kiss her cheek, but she grabs your arm instead.Â
âRemember what you promised me, okay?â She catches your eye, makes sure you hear what sheâs telling you. âLive the life that you deserve.â
âI will,â you exhale, and she seems content with that. Joyce hugs you, kisses your cheek, and you tell her to drive safe as she gets into the van.Â
Jonathan stands by his car, waiting for you, and you pull the boy into your arms. He crashes against you, clutches you to his chest, and you breathe him in one final time. âIâll always love you the most, bee.â
âAnd Iâll always love you the most, bug.âÂ
Joyce drives away first, El in the van with her, before Jonathan and Will follow. The car pulls out of its driveway one final time, and you hold Nancyâs hand as you both cry. Slowly, their cars fade into the distance, and one by one the kids hop on their bikes and pedal away. No one wants to stay, the empty house feels too permanent, solemn. Eventually Nancy gets into her own car, wishing you a quiet goodbye, until itâs just you and your brother standing in front of the house.Â
Dustin stays beside you, as he always does, and you take a deep breath. Nothing will ever be the same again.Â
You take one last look at the Byers home, the house you grew up in and discovered pure love and joy and naivety in, and inhale the final scent of your childhood. Dandelions are in bloom, its yellow surrounds the home, soon they will wilt and its seeds will litter the sky
Joyceâs words ring in your head.
Itâs time to live the life that you deserve. Youâre on your own now, though you know that really you arenât. Dustin is next to you, Steve and Robin are waiting at your house with movies stolen from work because they knew how hard today would be. Your mother has your favorite cookies ready and waiting for you. Mike and the others have already planned their first letter to Will.Â
The charm bracelet from the party and Steve is cool against your wrist.Â
Youâre no longer the scared, angry twelve year old you had been when you first moved to Hawkins. Youâre loved, you have so many incredible people in your life who now get to watch you grow up into someone new.Â
Slowly, you exhale your childhood, with a single promise of keeping it within you forever. To live the life that Joyce has told you that you deserve.
And you believe her.Â
[END OF SEASON THREE]
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Astro Notes - 016
Capricorn risings tend to have a lot of facial piercings or just look really good with them.
Venus in Aqua can be very aromatic with everyone until the minute they find THAT person and they do a complete 360. When they find the one they will be so faithful and romantic. People call them aloof and uninterested but they just know what they want and most wonât settle till they get that.
Iâve seen a lot of Mars in Pisces women that donât believe in sleeping around. Most prefer to wait until they are in a relationship or married before giving that access.
Moon in Aquariusâs need to rationalize every emotion they experience and find out itâs roots when all they really need to do is cry it out. They try to find solutions to all their emotions which causes them get burn out fast. This is why itâs difficult for them to comfort others when they deal with deep emotions because they think they need to come up with a solution instead of comforting them. Itâs okay to feel your emotions without making sense of them guys.
Pisces moons normally have period in their life where their mother was really distant from them or just completely absent. Ive seen a lot that their mothers couldâve picked substances over them or been in jail, or was just too immature to raise them at a certain point. A lot of Pisces moons grow up in a single mother household.
Capricorn moon/risings are normally the eldest child. And if not still took on a more responsible role in the family. Grew up around a lot of immature childish people
Sagittarius suns I feel like are way more rebellious than Aquariusâs. Sagittariusâs are so impulsive and get this big adrenaline rush from doing things they arenât supposed to. Many rarely think about they consequences of what theyâre doing which causes them to get into a lot more trouble. Especially as an adolescent.
If you have a Gemini rising people probably yelled at you as a child for talking to much or being too obnoxious
Virgo suns are either so good at communicating with others and fitting in or they are so socially anxious and awkward thereâs no in between.
Venus in Libras will flirt with anybody whoâs decent looking. They are not picky at all.
Neptune in the 7th house people can be very concerning in their relationships. Everytime they experience attraction itâs like they only try to see whatâs good in that person even if they are absolute trash. They want love so bad but tend to just get in relationships because of that desire without actually getting to know who they are dating. This causes them to attract a lot of narcissists cuz they are willing to give out love so fast without seeing if it mutual.
Mars in the 5th house people đ¤ Rushing into relationships
Taurus risings look like forest nymphs they are so naturally beautiful
Venus conjunct mars people are so magnetic. They can have everyoneâs heads turn the mintier they walk in a room. A lot of people have crushes on them.
Having a Lilith conjunct the ascendant in synastry usually shows an intense otherworldly connection that is most likely forbidden. Youâll feel like you finally found the perfect person until u figure out they are married with kids or your best friends partner. This connection is usually so strong that if one of the partners (or both) are in a relationship it can completely destroy their relationships. Iâve seen 20 year marriages end from this synastry. Known as the âhome wreckerâ placement.
Having your Lilith in Leo can show that you couldâve been treated as a wallflower growing up. People never really gave you much attention so you grew up thinking you werenât meant to be loved and appreciated:( in this lifetime you are meant to break that and steal the spotlight
Having you North Node in the 7th house means that in a past life you probably were a loner or found it difficult to create bonds with others. Your opinionated personality pushed a lot of people away in a past life. In this life tho you are here to learn the art of compromise. You are here to build relationships whether it be family, friends or romantic relationships.
Pluto in the 11th house people im sorry for the amount of toxic friends you had to deal withâšď¸ I notice their friendships are usually really intense toward them the friends can become really jealous and possessive with them. Their friendships were closer to abusive partnerships than actual friendships. Iâve seen in some cases that their friends can act overly seductive with them as well which can be overwhelming & uncomfy. When these natives heal what attracts these folks however they can eventually gain some of the most trustworthy friends. These friends will help you climb the latter and normally have a lot of power. You can move mountains with the right group.
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