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#links is only one im trying to get around to watching
thetimelordbatgirl · 2 months
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Okay so we can have the female main character become the villain in latest Yu-Gi-Oh, but we apparently can't have a female protagonist yet in Yu-Gi-Oh as a whole?
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vanivanvanilla · 2 years
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among us lifesteal au (explodes)
idk if i’ll do anything with this but i really like the idea of it 👍 here’s what i have atm
spoke: imposter (idk if he’d have a specific role yet)
mapicc: imposter & linked with ro
ro: crewmate & linked with mapicc
leo: the executioner
ash: the glitch
cube: the engineer
zam: the detective
clown: the jackal (no sidekick)
jaron: the jester
bacon: the swapper
planet: the shifter (maybe)
rek: crewmate with flash modifier
mid: altruist
clutch: crewmate with button barry modifier
red: crewmate (not sure if he’d have any modifiers)
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yun-fangz · 8 days
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San twitter links — Dom ver.
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Pairing: San x fem!reader
a/n: HELLOOOOO AGAIN! thank you all for the support, im glad you all are enjoying these as much as i am. i want to say thank you again anonies for requesting another member, funny enough, san was one of the next members i was planning to do. 🫣 enjoy!
masterlist.
links/warnings below the cut. mdni 18+, content below.
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warnings/tags: twt links, dom san!, certified ass lover!san, unprotected sex, backshots, spanking, dry humping, car sex, cunnilingus (fem rec) fingering, breeding kink, overstim, multiple orgasms, pet play, thigh riding, hand kink, manhandling, brat taming (sorta)
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san loves rubbing you through your panties and hearing your whines and pleads for him fuck you. He'd coo as you buck against him, only for him to give your pussy a sharp spank, telling you to be good and maybe he will. link.
needy little thing, san would have you like this in the passenger seat as he drives. he'd rub slow circles around your aching clit as you try your hardest not to writhe under his touch. his favorite thing to do was edge you for as long as he could before pulling off to a secluded area and tossing you to the back, devouring you as if it were his final meal.
my favorite ass loving man.... backshots are a must. he loves having you spread out on your knees as he pushes his cock into you, watching in enjoyment as you immediately get to work rocking back against him. the way your ass moved against him has him quickly losing his composure though as he grabs your hips to meet you halfway, slowly but surely fucking you deep into the mattress. link.
on slower, more intimate nights, san loved to get you off on his fingers. you were spread wide while he toyed with your sensitive pussy. you let your head rest on his shoulder, letting out the sweetest moans he's ever heard. he'd bring you to your release over and over again before eventually pushing you down and ruining you one last time on his cock. link.
you had been misbehaving all day, sending him risky texts and photos while he was at work. the moment he got home he'd waste no time shedding you of your clothes and pounding deep into you, grumbling angrily about how embarrassing it was to walk around sporting a half boner all day. he'd fuck you hard and fast, giving your ass a sharp slap as he did as he pleased. little did he know this was your plan all along, loving how rough he treats you when you misbehave. link.
tsk tsk, another day of you being naughty, causing san to bend you over and spank you back into place with one hand while the other fucks you into oblivion. each time you'd near your peak, he'd go harder, only to pull away at the last moment, causing you to cry and beg for release. but what good is a punishment if you don't learn your place? link.
san loves having you, his pretty kitty, rub your pussy along his muscular thigh, observing how you whine and twitch each time he flexes the muscle. he'd notice how tired you get, as he settles his hands on your hips, guiding you softly on his thigh and pushing you further towards your high. link.
san who loves holding you down by your hips as he makes out with your pussy. he'd take his time running his tongue up and down your folds before circling your clit, holding you firmly on the mattress to prevent you from moving. hearing your whines and soft moans only spurs him on, pushing his face deeper into your cunt and eventually getting lost in the way you taste. link.
you mentioned in passing once on how nice it would be to have a kid with san one day, and ever since then he'd push you into a mating press each time you'd have sex, fucking his seed deep into your womb, secretly hoping it'll take. link
bonus:
san loved coming on your back, watching as it dripped down your spine and ass; you were such a gorgeous canvas, and loves painting on it. link.
the hands are so san..... i need him desperately. link.
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© 2024 Yun-Fangz All Rights Reserved.
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stevie-petey · 2 months
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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. “Shit! Oh, Fast Times! Ever heard of it? Top three for me, Keith.” Robin laughs and Steve turns the cardboard cutout to you, wiggling his eyebrows. “Own any red bikinis?” You flick his forehead, though you laugh as well. “In your dreams.” “I can sleep right now and find out–” “I will flick you again.” “A kiss is preferred, but whatever.”
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 !
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El’s screams tear out of her body. She writhes in pain, sobs claw out of her throat. It’s unbearable to watch, the sight of her in immeasurable pain. It breaks your heart. 
No one knows what to do. 
Mike thrashes in your arms still. He tries to escape your hold so that he can cover his body with El’s. Take away her pain somehow. But you won’t let him. You know that it hurts him to see her this way, but his panic will only drive El’s panic further.
“What is that?” Disgust litters Erica’s face as she stares at the moving creature within El’s leg. Gently you push the girl away, not wanting to crowd El too much. She needs space to breathe. 
“There’s something in her leg,” Mike sneers into your face as he fights against you again. He’s furious, he’s overwhelmed, he just wants to help. “Let go!”
Your arms tighten around the boy. He isn’t in the right state of mind. Frantic, you look to your left and start forming a plan. “Jonathan, my switchblade is in my left back pocket. Grab it.” He stares at you, unsure what to do, and you raise your voice into a yell. “Grab it.”
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 don’t accept it. “Go and disinfect it. There’s a gas stove where you found us. Heat up the blades so that we can–” you swallow as nausea fills you. “We–we have to cut it out of her leg.”
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. “I need you guys to talk to El. Keep her awake.”
“Right, okay.” Mike nods, and you finally release him. He hovers over El, his voice is gentle as he tries to calm her. “Hey, stay awake, okay?”
You tug Steve towards El’s legs so that he can help you move her into a better position. “Get her onto her side. Mike, put her head in your lap.”
Both boys do as they’re 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. “Robin, hey. You’re not helping.”
“I’m sorry.”
Jonathan returns, out of breath. “Okay. Alright, El?” He looks down at the girl. Tries to steady his breathing. “This is gonna hurt like hell, okay?”
El whimpers out that she understands, and you take hold of her hand. “Sweetheart, you need to brace yourself. I promise it will be over soon.”
“I’ll be fast, but I need you to stay real still. Here,” Jonathan hands a wooden spoon to Mike. “You’re gonna want to bite down on this, okay?”
Teeth bared, El clenches her teeth around the spoon. Her body braces for what’s 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. “Hold her shoulders. Don’t let her go, no matter what.”
He pales, but swallows deeply and nods. When Mike is in position, you signal to Jonathan to start cutting. “Do it.”
“Okay,” Jonathan inhales. The knife you’ve given him shakes as he holds it over El’s wound. He’s fucking terrified, but he knows it’s the only way. Exhaling, he cuts into her flesh. Blood pours from the wound and El’s screams tear from her chest. 
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 El’s body convulses, the screams she releases, it’s all too much. You don’t feel yourself shaking until Steve guides your head into the nook of his shoulder, shielding you. 
“Thank you,” your breathing is shaky. You aren’t even sure if he’s heard you, but Steve nods and his hand rubs up and down your back. He’s 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. 
You hear your knife glance against the ground, followed by El’s scream becoming deafening. Unable to stop yourself, you pull away from Steve to look at what’s happening. When you do, you almost gag. Jonathan’s fingers are now in El’s 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. 
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.
“Goddamn it!” Jonathan can’t find it. He can’t find whatever the hell is in El’s leg. It keeps moving the moment he thinks he has it. Everything is slick from blood. 
“No!” El spits out the wooden spoon, her voice raw from screaming. “Stop it!” 
You can’t 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. “I can do it.
“Do what, El?” You ask, though you think you know anyways.
She breathes heavily. Tears flow freely down her face. She’s 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. There’s 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. 
To have the strength to expel a foreign object from your body. You can’t imagine it. 
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 El’s 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 El’s leg makes you feel ill. 
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 Hopper’s boot crashes down upon it, killing it. 
You’ve never been happier to see that cranky son of a bitch. 
Joyce stands behind him and you whimper pathetically when you see her. You miss your own mother. It’s been days since you’ve last seen her. You’re more homesick than you’ve ever been before. 
Alongside Joyce and Hopper is a man you’ve never seen before. He has glasses and a beard. As you study him, Jonathan makes a surprised sound. “Murray?”
“You know him?” 
Jonathan nods at you. “He’s the detective Nance and I visited last year.” 
“He’s insane.” Nancy says, though there’s a nostalgic smile on her face. 
Hopper steps forward, investigating the scene. Glass crunches beneath his boots. He stops in front of you and El. He looks down at you. “Always at the scene of the crime, huh?”
“Yeah,” you blow hair out of your face. “Can’t seem to ever stop myself.” Then, finally noticing his aggressively bright and floral shirt that he’s wearing, you tilt your head to the side. “Nice shirt, by the way. I like the color on you. You’ve been direly needing some color in your life.”
Dustin snorts and El manages a tired smile. Hopper rolls his eyes at you, though you can tell it’s more from fondness rather than annoyance like it usually is. You watch as his eyes drift towards Joyce, uncharacteristically shy. “Thanks, kid.”
“Anytime, old man.” 
– 
“The Mind Flayer, it built this monster in Hawkins, to stop El, to kill her and pave a way into our world.” 
You sit on the fountain’s edge. Dustin is next to you, Steve leans against you on the other side. Mike’s words surround you. 
He explains what he and the others have been dealing with while you’ve 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 doesn’t sound real. It sounds like a thing from nightmares.
And somehow Billy has become the face of it. 
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. 
“How big is this thing?” Hopper asks, shifting so that El can rest more comfortably against him. 
Jonathan sighs. “It’s… It’s big. Real big. Thirty feet, at least.”
“You’ve seen it?” Your eyes draw to the bruise on his forehead. The pained noise he made when you hugged him still rings in your ears. 
“We’ve had a rough night.” Nancy whispers, eyes downcast. 
“It sorta destroyed Hopper’s cabin.” Lucas looks up at the chief, a poorly feigned apologetic smile on his face. “Sorry.”
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.  
Which, according to Max, is still very much alive. 
But that doesn’t stop Will from trying to help. “But if we close the gate again–” 
“We cut the brain off from the body.”
“And kill it.” Lucas finishes for Max. “Theoretically.”
It sounds so simple, but you’ve been here before.
You’ve heard this conversation already; you were standing in the Byers’ 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. 
It had been the exact same conversation. And it terrifies you still, now. Only this time the fear is accompanied by an emptiness.
You’ve been here before. It hadn’t been enough. 
“How many more times are we going to kill it?” Your head remains pressed against Steve. Your eyes don’t lift from the ground. Exhaustion sags your body. “We 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,” laughter crawls out of your throat. “Who’s to say that they won’t just open the gate again? They’ve already done it once–”
“Loverboy over here,” The bearded man from earlier, Murray, suddenly appears and slaps the back of Jonathan’s head. The man has a mad smile on his face, the kind that tells you he’s an insane genius. After Jonathan shoves him away, Murray stops in front of you. He looks down, a curious glint in his eyes. “He told me you were a ray of sunshine. Gotta be honest. I’m not really getting a real sunshine vibe from you.”
Steve subtly shifts your body so that he’s in front of you. His eyes are narrowed, body tense. “What’s that in your hands?”
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. “Ah. These, my perfectly coiffed haired friend, are blueprints.” 
“That’s just a poorly done drawing of squares and lines.” You squint at the papers. They’re no better than the map Mike had scribbled to navigate the tunnels last year.
“Seriously,” Murray turns back to Jonathan again. “I thought she was supposed to be the nice one.”
You open your mouth to argue, not at all liking whatever this random man is insinuating, but Hopper steps forward first. “Just start talking.”
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. “Okay, this is what Alexei called ‘the hub’.” Murray points to the center of the first drawing. “Now, the hub takes us to the vault room.”
“Okay, where’s the gate?” Hopper hovers over him, attentive. 
“Right here.” 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. “I don’t know the scale on this, but I think it’s fairly close to the vault room. Maybe fifty feet or so.”
You snort obnoxiously loud, getting everyone’s attention. “You’re so wrong that it physically pains me.”
“I’m sorry?” 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. 
“It’s more like five hundred feet.” Erica says. When she sees Murray’s exasperated expression, she can’t help but laugh at the old man. “What, you’re just gonna waltz in there like it’s commie Disneyland or something?” 
“And who are you?” 
“Erica Sinclair. And who are you?”
“Murray… Bauman.”
“Listen, Mr. Bunman.” You have to stifle a laugh into Steve’s shoulder. You love Erica, you really do. “I’m not trying to tell you how to do things, but I’ve been down in that shithole for twenty-four hours. And with all due respect, you do what this man tells you, you’re all gonna die.”
“I’m sorry, why is this four year old speaking to me?”
You slide off the fountain’s edge and stand. Whoever this guy is, you don’t like his snippy attitude. “She’s ten, actually, and she’s right.”
“Yeah, you bald bastard!” Lucas reprimands her, but she doubles down. “Just the facts!”
While you enjoy her quips, you gently grab Erica’s shoulders and place her behind you. There isn’t time for her to make a grown man cry. “We went through hell down there. It won’t be as easy as walking fifty feet. The place is huge.”
“They’re right.” Dustin speaks up. “You’re all gonna die, but you don’t have to. Excuse me, may I?” Even before Murray has consented, your brother is already grabbing the blueprints. He sits down and starts explaining. “See this room here? This is a storage facility. There’s a hatch in here that feeds into their underground ventilation system.”
“It’s how we accidentally got in.” You add, figuring any extra information could help.
“Wait, you accidentally broke into a secret Russian lair?” Mike tries to hide it, but you can see that he’s impressed. You know that once this is all over, he’ll grill you for details later.
“No, we thought it’d be fun to get tortured by commies on the fourth of July.” Steve points to his swollen eye. “Yes, Wheeler. It was an accident.”
“Guys!” Dustin shouts. When he has everyone’s attention again, he sighs. “Jesus. Anyways, these vents will lead you to the base of the weapon. It’s a bit of a maze down there, but between me, Y/N, and Erica, we can show you the way.” 
Hopper stares down at the three of you, unamused. “You can show us the way?”
Dustin is about to agree, but you cover his mouth with your hand. “Yes, 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.”
“No.” Hopper, Steve, Dustin, and Jonathan say at the same time. 
You roll your eyes at all of them. “Okay, I was only talking to Hopper. The rest of you,” you glare at your brother and the two teens next to him. “Aren’t a part of this conversation.”
“There isn’t a conversation to be had, kid.” Hopper scoffs at you. He doesn’t want to hear whatever you’re about to say. He won’t let you back down there again. From the state Steve is in, Hopper doesn’t even want Joyce coming with him. “You’re not going. End of discussion.”
“You don’t seriously expect me to let you walk into a death trap, right? I mean, I know we argue a lot, but you can’t be that dumb.” Hopper has started to walk away now, trying to put an end to the conversation, but you follow him anyways. “Listen to me!” He ignores you, doesn’t 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. 
You don’t care how annoying you’re being. You’ll nag him until your last dying breath. If he doesn’t want you getting hurt, then he has to understand that you don’t want him getting hurt either. “Hopper, I’m serious. El…” 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. She’s so small. She’s still just a kid, despite the power that lies within her. “She needs you. You–you can’t get hurt.”
“And I won’t.” 
“You don’t know that,” you grab the man’s shirt, but he tries to walk anyways. You plant your feet on the ground and grit your teeth. He’s frustratingly strong. “Please, just–you’re her father. You–you can’t leave her–” You stumble over your words, try to think of how to convince him. There has to be a way, a middle ground. Isn’t he the one who taught El what compromise means? 
In your nagging midst, you overhear Dustin and the party all catch up. Talk about how they missed one another. It’s 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. 
The walkies. Cerebro.
“What if I could still communicate with you from above?” You shout, frantic. Hopper stops walking. He still doesn’t look at you, but he indicates that you have his attention. Taking a deep breath, you don’t waste any time. “We have walkies. Dustin, all the kids. It’s how they communicate with one another. Always have. What if… what if I give you directions using them? That way, you’ll fulfill your annoying need to be a hero while I fulfill my annoying need to protect everyone.”
Your words come rushing out, messy and jumbled, but Hopper seems to understand. He’s quiet, mulls what you’ve 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, he’s resolved. “You’re really annoying, you know that?”
A relieved smile graces your face. Knowing you’ve 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. “It adds to my charm.”
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. “Hey, heads up. Your sister came up with a shockingly genius compromise. You guys can navigate, just from someplace safe.”
Dustin sighs. “It’s not that simple.”
“The signal won’t reach.” Erica clarifies for him. 
You motion at them to explain faster. “But…”
“But,” Dustin quickly explains your idea. “We’d need something with a high enough frequency band to relay with the Russians’ 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 radio–”
“Dustin,” you hit his shoulder, urging him to get to the point already. “Just tell him about Cerebro.”
“I was getting there! Look, we have one already situated at the highest point in Hawkins.” Your brother shakes his head. “If you need us to navigate, we got you. But we need a head start… and a car.”
“Hey, chief.” You stand beside Hopper now, grinning ear to ear. “Don’t you have a car?”
He stares past you, and the rage in his eyes amuses you immensely. It’s 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. “Come on, give me the car keys, Hopper.” 
Sucking his teeth, Hopper drops the car keys into your hand. “I hate you.”
Hopper stands in front of you, annoyance and irritability in his eyes as he stares at you, but you don’t 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. “Thank you for listening to me.”
“Yeah, well. Don’t make me regret it.” Hopper says, his voice rough. He clears his throat, allows his hand to pat your shoulder. He may not know what you’ve gone through, but he thinks he can understand the weight the history has left you. It’s 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 arm’s length. “Do me a favor, will you? Make sure El and the others are safe.”
You sniff, wipe away tears. You’re not sure why you’re crying. “I will, I promise. Good luck, old man.”
“Good luck, kid.” He hesitates, still holding your shoulders. His breath hitches and his eyes don’t leave yours. There’s something in them, almost a certain kindness that once reflected in your father’s 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 he’s looking for, Hopper swallows. He says what Joyce has always said about you; from his conversation with the woman back at Melvald’s. “You’re the best of them.”
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 can’t help but laugh. It’s a warm moment. His words simmer on your skin. You’ve heard them before, you know what people say about you, but the words are different coming from Hopper. 
Praise doesn’t come naturally to him. Words have always plagued him; the ones he has just told you hold a weight that’s even heavier than the guilt the two of you carry within yourselves. You’ve 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. 
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. He’s 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 you’ve become familiar with. 
The moment he sees you approaching, all the tension in Steve’s body melts away. 
He grabs your hand the second you’re within reach. Pulling you into his chest, he kisses the top of your head. “Any updates, angel?”
You hum against him, allowing yourself a moment to bask in his warmth. It’s been a long day. It’ll be an even longer night. “You know Weathertop hill?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Good.” You place Hopper’s keys into Steve’s hand. “You’re driving us, then.”
Robin points at Jonathan, who sneaks glances at the three of you. “Define ‘us’. Because, no offense, he seems nice and all, but he keeps looking over at you like a lost puppy and it’s making me uncomfortable.”
“Be nice, he’s still my best friend.” Flicking her forehead, you silently scold Robin. “And it’s just going to be the three of us with Dustin and Erica. Jonathan and Nancy are taking the rest of the kids to Murray’s bunker. He’s just… He’s worried. Probably wants to make sure he says goodbye to me before we leave.”
Robin makes a confused face, reminding you that she’s new to all of this. That she hasn’t had to say goodbye to her loved ones every year with the fear of them not returning. You sigh. “It’s… Kinda a tradition, at this point. A final goodbye before all hell breaks loose.”
“How many times do you guys almost die on a weekly basis?”
Steve snorts. “Depends on the month. November seems to be our worst one, though.”
“Astounding…”
You leave Steve to deal with Robin’s amazement on his own, though you laugh as you walk away. Ever since the events of Will’s disappearance, you’ve done everything you can to not think about what you’ve all been through. However, seeing the bewildered amazement on Robin’s face the more you reveal to her, you can’t help but laugh. 
Jonathan sees you approaching him and Nancy and steps aside to make room for you. They’re 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. It’s dizzying trying to keep track of it all. 
Secretly, you’re grateful that you’re going with Steve and the others. Easier key instructions. 
“This one is for the second to last bottom lock–”
“Murray, can I cut in real quick?” You try to be polite about it, but truly you don’t care whether or not you have the man’s permission. 
He glares at you. “Aren’t you already?”
“Good point!” You grab Nancy’s and Jonathan’s arms and pull them away with a wicked smile on your face. When you’ve 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. “Get to that old man’s bunker safely, please?”
“Of course, bug.” Jonathan has wrapped an arm around you. He closes his eyes, his fingers span across your back. “Stay at Weathertop, get to safety. Maybe even get some rest while you can.”
“I’ll try, bee.” Your laugh is wet. This will never get any easier. 
Nancy shifts in your embrace, and for a moment you’re afraid she’ll 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 hasn’t melted into the embrace like Jonathan has, but she’s trying. Lips close to your ear, she whispers, “I’ll keep him safe.”
You suck in a breath. You hadn’t known how desperately you needed to hear Nancy’s reassurance, to hear her silent apology. Pulling away from them, you look at Jonathan and Nancy. “I love you. I love you both.”
Jonathan smiles, the same way he did the night you met him on the Wheeler’s porch. Nancy ducks her head down shyly, the same way she did the night she opened the door to let you into her home. 
You squeeze their hands one last time before leaving to say goodbye to the others. 
Lucas wishes you luck, Will hugs you as tight as ever, and El offers you a partial smile. She’s still recovering from whatever the monster did to her leg, so you brush some hair out of her face and kiss her head.
“Sucks you were down in hell this whole time. Could really go for a brownie right now.” Mike says, a light in his eyes as El’s head rests in his lap.
You stick your tongue out at him. “Sorry, couldn’t find a way to bake while getting chased by Russians with guns.”
“Lame.”
“Goodbye, Wheeler.”
Then you turn to Max, who has been silent this entire time. She hugs you tightly when she sees you. “He’ll be okay, right?”
Your body goes stiff. Somehow, in the midst of Hopper and the others, you had forgotten about Billy. How he’s infected. Flayed. It hasn’t 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 wouldn’t die if the gate closed. 
But no one has asked the same question for Billy. 
Swallowing, you slowly reciprocate Max’s embrace. “We’ll… We’ll find a way. We always do.”
Though the words aren’t meant to be a lie, you can’t help but feel that you’re breaking an oath when you say them. 
– 
Steve hadn’t 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 doesn’t take him long to round everyone up and drag you outside.
“I was saying goodbye to Joyce,” you grumble, struggling to keep up with Steve’s quick footsteps.
“It’s a Cadillac, Y/N!” 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 hadn’t wanted to buy him one, said that the BMW was more practical. Reliable. When Steve pushes the mall’s front door open and sees the beautiful, timeless car parked perfectly in front of him, he almost collapses. “Oh, man, now this…This is what I’m talkin’ about!”
“‘Toddfather’?” Robin points out the license plate and its horrible name.
You make a face, but Steve doesn’t let her ruin his moment. He’s ecstatic. This is arguably the best thing that has happened to him all day (besides maybe kissing you). For fuck’s sake, it’s a goddamn Cadillac. “Oh, screw Todd! Steve’s her daddy now.”
Steve hops into the car’s front seat like a little kid with a toy car. Meanwhile you, Robin, Dustin, and Erica retract your heads in disgust at what he’s just said. Robin looks at you, repulsed. “Did he just talk about himself in the third person?”
Erica follows up with her own creeped out question. “Did he just call himself daddy?” 
“I’m choosing to ignore him right now.” You say to both of the girls, pressing a hand to your forehead as you walk to the car. There’s so much you don’t want to unpack with what Steve has said. 
“You can’t ignore me, Y/N.” Steve leans over the center counsel and opens the passenger door for you. “We already established that I’m really annoying.” 
“Just take us to Weathertop, please.” 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. She’s squished between Dustin and Erica, her knees are pressed uncomfortably to her chest.
“Why did I get stuck in the middle?” She complains.
Steve fixes one of the mirrors before revving the engine. As he pulls out of the mall’s parking lot, he offhandedly responds, “Passenger seat is reserved for girls I’m dating.”
Everyone in the backseat gags, and you blush furiously. You and Steve haven’t had the time to talk about your relationship. Or if there even is a relationship. But he’s just referred to you as the girl he’s dating. He kissed you yesterday, or was it today?
Time has blurred together, but Steve’s hand rests on your thigh as he drives and you’re his girl. 
There will be time to talk about all of it later. You’ll make sure of it this time. 
Steve’s 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. There’s music on the radio, doing its best to distract everyone, but your hands are still antsy. You’re nervous, there’s still so much left unspecified within the plan. Steve notices your fidgeting fingers and removes his hand from your thigh to play with them; he’s trying to soothe you. 
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. “What the hell is a Cerebro?”
“It’s basically a radio tower that Dustin built for his girlfriend, Suzie.” You explain to her, voice raised to be heard over the music and wind. “She lives in Utah.”
Robin raises an eyebrow, intrigued. She leans back in her seat and pokes Dustin’s shoulder. “Suzie 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.” 
Your brother preens at this, pleased someone has recognized his romantic efforts. “I mean, nobody’s scientifically perfect, but Suzie’s about as close to being perfect as any human could possibly be.”
“She sounds made up to me.” Erica snarks from the backseat. She looks over at Steve, tries to get his opinion. “She sound made up to you?”
Steve hesitates for just a fraction of a second too long, and you sigh. Dustin notices it, too. “Why are you hesitating, Steve?”
“I–I’m not!” 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. “I’m not hesitating! I–I think she sounds real. You know, totally, absolutely real.”
“Not really loving your uncertain tone, Steve.” You say, and Dustin nods in agreement. “Suzie is real. I mean, I’m almost positive that she is.”
Dustin does a double take at your use of the word “almost”. He’s about to say something, demand to know why you’re not certain Suzie is real, before he notices that Steve is about to miss the Weathertop turn. “Left, turn left!”
“There’s not a road here?” 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 car’s tires screech on the asphalt as your body gets thrown forward. You scream, getting war flashbacks to when you’d been in the back of Billy’s car as Max had very recklessly driven you and Steve to the tunnels. Somehow, this is so much worse. 
The car breaks through a fence and your screaming only intensifies. “What the fuck?”
“Hendersons, where are we going?” Steve screams to you and your brother. He’s desperately trying to keep hold of the steering wheel as the car struggles against the hillside’s grass. 
“Up!” 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. It’s bumpy, your head hits the back of the seat more times than you would like, and your heart races. 
The car makes a concerning amount of strange noises the further up the hill you drive. Robin clutches her stomach. “We’re not going to make it!” 
“Yes we are!” Steve does everything he can. His foot never leaves the gas. “C’mon, baby. C’mon!” 
“Sweet talking the car won’t help!” 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. 
Steve hits the wheel and curses. “C’mon! Please!” 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. “We can walk the rest of the way, Steve.” 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. You’re five seconds away from vomiting, he can deal with abandoning the car. “The Toddfather is dead. We can mourn her later.”
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 you’re annoyed you have to walk it again, at least this time it’s night and the heat isn’t as suffocating. 
When you reach the crest of the hill, Dustin immediately runs to Cerebro. He crouches next to the radio and turns it on. “Bald Eagle, do you copy? Bald Eagle, I repeat, this is Scoops Troop, do you copy?”
Bald Eagle had been your idea. 
“Scoops Troop?” You ask your brother.
He nods, proud. “Thought of it myself.”
“Not bad, buddy.”
Murray’s voice crackles over the walkie. “Yes, I copy.”
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 he’ll need for the vents. You and Steve roam the perimeter of the hill, weary and needing something to do. While you’re far from the Russians below you, you still don’t necessarily feel like you’re out of harm’s reach. Robin stays with the kids, figuring it’s best to give the two of you some time alone. 
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. You’d 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. 
“I haven’t been up here in years.” 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. “Forgot how peaceful it was.”
“I love it here,” you tell him. “Late in the summer, dandelions appear. They scatter the entire hilltop. I like running through them.”
“Well, when they start to bloom,” Steve wraps his arms around your waist, pulls you back into his chest. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, lingers. He hasn’t held you in so long, his body aches with the weight of yours against it. “We can run through them together.”
You smile into the embrace, lean into the kiss, tremble into the words. He will always make you weak. It’s an exhilarating feeling, knowing someone can dismantle every bone in your body with less than six words. “I think I’d like that–”
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 hill’s edge. You need to figure out what you’re seeing. With every step you take, the more your vision focuses in on the lights, the more dread fills your body.
It’s the mall. The lights are coming from the mall. 
You freeze. 
The lights are going haywire, flickering wildly. It’s supposed to be deserted. Jonathan and the others were supposed to have left already, but still your stomach sinks. Something isn’t right. 
Steve stumbles after you, confused as to why you pulled away, but when he sees the mall as well, he stills. “What the…?”
“They left. They said they would be gone by now.” You try to calm yourself down, try to focus on the reasoning. The mall is empty. It’s supposed to be empty. Jonathan promised you he would make it to Murray’s safely. He wouldn’t lie, he would never lie to you. 
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. “Griswold Family, this is Scoops Troop. Do you copy? Over!”
He repeats the call over and over, but no one responds. With each passing moment of silence, your panic turns into blind fear. “I repeat, do you copy–” A sudden, horrifyingly familiar screech, one that has haunted your nightmares for years now, rips through the radio’s speaker. It’s loud and gruesome and sends ice into your body. Your brother’s concern rivals your own. “Griswold Family, please confirm your safety. Are you enroute to Bald Eagle’s nest?”
Dustin is screaming into the radio at this point, demanding answers, but there’s only snarling on the other side. Your breathing quickens, the edges of your vision blur. Sweat trickles down your neck. You can’t breathe. Jonathan is still at the mall. Mike and Will. Nancy, Max and Lucas. 
El.
The Mind Flayer has them. 
Steve tries to grab your hand, but you’re blind to it all. In raw desperation, you tear the radio out of Dustin’s hands and bring it to your own lips. “Jonathan! Nancy! Mike, anyone.”
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 can’t take it anymore. 
“C’mon,” he takes your hand and pulls you up. Numb with fear, your body is limp. You try to fight him, you don’t know why he’s 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. “They need our help.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do!”
“Y/N, look at me.” Steve motions to the car, and finally you understand. “We’re going.”
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 you’re leaving and try to stop you. “Where are you going?”
“To get them the hell outta there!” Steve calls over his shoulder, fumbling through his pocket to retrieve the keys. “Stay here, contact the others!”
Dustin calls out your name, anxious. He doesn’t 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 Steve’s grasp, you run back to your brother and kiss his forehead. “I’ll be back, I promise.”
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. “Stay in touch,” he orders the three of you, still entirely against the whole thing. 
“We will!” You shout back at him, already crawling into the car. “Stay safe, don’t do anything stupid, and stay here.”
The backdoor closes, Robin’s seatbelt clicks into place, then the Cadillac’s engine roars to life.
Your hands won't stop shaking as Steve drives. Nothing he says can reassure you. The car hasn’t gone below seventy miles an hour despite the narrow road, and still it doesn’t feel like it will be enough. 
“I’m sure they’re okay.” Steve tries again to sound convincing, like his hands also don’t shake as he grips the steering wheel. “I mean, they have El. She’s a superhero.”
“Total superhero.” Robin unhelpfully chimes in. Her own nervousness is on display as she twists her fingers together. 
You draw your knees into your chest, trying desperately to make yourself smaller. You’re terrified for your friends, you should’ve never split up. The party always does better when it’s together. Forcing air into your lungs, you stare out the windshield. “How much farther?”
“A minute, maybe even less.” Steve promises, pressing down even harder on the gas pedal. The engine’s roar deafens your ears, and you welcome the distraction. 
In the distance you see Starcourt’s 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 you’re 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. 
“There!” 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 don’t care. All you can focus on is Nancy standing in front of Jonathan’s 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 can’t see what Nancy is firing at, but within seconds you see the third car barreling straight towards her at a terrifying speed. In the driver’s seat is Billy. “Steve!”
“I see him!” He floors it. 
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 Steve’s shoulder as the car spins out. Your eyes squeeze shut at the momentum. You can’t remember if you scream. 
“Are you guys okay?” 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 you’re hurt. There’s some glass in your hair, but for the most part there isn’t a scratch on you, which he’s thankful for. 
“Ask me tomorrow?” Robin stares blankly ahead, still trying to process what’s just happened. 
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. “Let’s never do that again.”
“Agreed…” Robin swallows, but quickly her mouth goes dry. “Oh, shit.”
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. It’s huge, bigger than anything you’ve ever seen before. 
A car honks behind you, breaking you from your terror. Your head whips around, finding Nancy in the passenger seat of Jonathan’s car. “Get in!”
Quickly the three of you scramble out of the wrecked car. There isn’t room in any of the passenger seats, so you yank the trunk door open and scream at Robin and Steve to crawl in. It’s a tight fit, you have to press your back against Steve’s chest, but it’ll have to do. 
As soon as the trunk is closed, Jonathan steps on the gas. You’re thrown further into Steve’s 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. 
“Are you okay, bug?” Jonathan shouts over his shoulder, eyes still on the road.
“Fine and dandy,” 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. “I crash cars every day. How about you guys, what brought y’all out here tonight?”
“Billy.” Everyone in the car says in unison.
You wince. “It’s always him, isn’t it?”
No one answers. Your quips don’t land. Robin hasn’t looked away from the Mind Flayer yet, Steve doesn’t want to look at it. Jonathan stares at the road ahead of him and Nancy flinches every time the Mind Flayer’s body thuds against the earth. The rest of the kids are silent, the echoes of its footfalls pounding against their eardrums. 
It’s grim in the car. Really fucking grim. 
“Dusty-bun, you copy?” A girl’s voice comes through over the radio. It’s not a voice you recognize; never in your life have you heard anyone besides your own mother refer to your brother as Dusty-bun.
Steve’s bewildered expression matches your own. Then Dustin’s 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. “I copy, Suzie-poo. It sounds much better now, thanks.” 
“Suzie,” 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. 
The nickname Dustin has for his girlfriend, however, is awful. “‘Suzie-poo’? That’s the best nickname he could’ve come up with?”
“I like bee, better.” Jonathan agrees.
Steve scoffs. “Honey has a nicer ring to it.”
“Both of you shut up!” You don’t have time for their weird ‘my horse is bigger than yours’ competition. Dustin’s started speaking over the radio again and you’re trying to listen in case it’s important. He’s asking Suzie whether she knows what Planck’s constant is, and you have no idea how any of this is relevant to the situation at hand. 
“Okay, so I know it starts with two sixes, and then a…” Dustin’s voice trails off. Apparently this Planck thing is a number, one he can’t seem to remember. “W-What is it?”
“Okay, let me just be clear on this.” The tone of Suzie’s voice makes you pity your brother. It’s an angry tone, annoyed and fed up. Whatever she’s about to say, it won’t be pretty. “I haven’t heard from you in a week, and now you want a mathematical equation that you should know so you can… save the world?”
You whistle, commending the girl’s sense of self worth. “She’s got a point.” 
Dustin pleads with her, promising that he’ll 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?
“You can make it up to me now.” Suzie’s voice lowers a frightening octave. You have no idea what she’s about to say, and a large part of you wants to throw the radio out the window before you’re forced to find out. 
“What?” Dustin sounds frightened as well, which doesn’t make you feel any better. 
“I want to hear it.”
Horror fills you. It’s worse. So much worse than you ever could’ve imagined. You know exactly what Suzie wants from Dustin. “Oh, no… He told her.”
“Told her what?” Steve asks you, confused by this entire ordeal. Dustin and Suzie argue in the background. She’s insistent and your brother tries his best to convince her otherwise. 
Jonathan’s eyes meet Steve’s in the rearview mirror, mischief in them. “Theater camp.”
“Jonathan Byers, I will hurt you!” You hiss at him, utterly mortified. Sometimes you despise the fact that he’s your closest friend. He knows far too much about you. 
Steve has so many questions, but he forgets all of them when Dustin starts to sing. “Turn around, look at what you see.”
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. 
The day you and Dustin moved to Hawkins, you both swore to never tell anyone about the camp. The secret would die with you. 
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 wouldn’t tell anyone what he saw. 
“In her face, the mirror of your dreams.” Dustin’s 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. 
Steve and Robin share a look of disbelief. They’ve 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 can’t help but sing along, harmonizing with them. 
Everyone in the car looks at you as if you’re insane, but you’re too tired and exhausted to care. You’ve had the weirdest two days of your goddamn life. Sue you for singing along. It’s a good song. 
That, or maybe you’re just delirious from dehydration.
After a minute or so, the song comes to a close, and you’re almost saddened by that. You’ve missed singing with your brother. You make a mental note to bug him about it later. “Planck’s constant is 6.62607004.”
Dustin laughs into the radio, happy that Suzie finally revealed the number. “You just saved the world!”
“Gosh, I miss you, Dusty-bun.”
The two continue to go back and forth with their baby talk, which you cringe at. It’s disgusting to overhear, although you guess you understand now why Dustin hates being around you and Steve. You’ll apologize to him later. 
Dustin’s voice cuts off unexpectedly, which you assume is Erica’s doing. You’ll also thank her later. The car goes quiet again. No one knows what to follow Dustin’s impromptu performance with. 
“So, theater camp, huh?” Steve finally breaks the silence, squeezing you gently in his arms as he teases. 
“Tell anyone and I swear I’ll–” The Mind Flayer suddenly turns around, catching your attention. It runs away, back towards the mall. It doesn’t 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. “Where are the others?”
You’re practically crawling over the seat to try and get to Jonathan and Nancy. “Where’s Max and El? Where the hell is Mike?”
Nancy tries to distance herself from your anger. “We got separated, but they’re–they’re fine. We had to guide the Mind Flayer away from the mall–”
“So you left them?”
“We didn’t really have much of a choice, Y/N!” Nancy screams back at you now, insulted that you truly believe she would ever leave her brother behind willingly. She wouldn’t do that. She knows that you know this. 
“It’s going back for them! It fucking turned around, can’t you see that? We need to follow it, now!” 
“Y/N–”
“Turn. Around.”
“Steve, sit Y/N back down!” Jonathan’s yell cuts in between you and Nancy. You’re about to start spewing curses at him, but Steve’s arms are strong and force you back into his lap. You’re livid. “Hold on!” 
Jonathan knows you’re 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. 
– 
When you get to the mall, Lucas announces that he has a plan. 
“Fireworks have an insane amount of gunpowder in them.” He explains to the group, waving around a handful of fireworks he left in the trunk. You’re all carrying some as you run through the mall’s parking lot. “If we tie them together, we can mimic the damage of dynamite.”
“Think it’ll be enough to kill the Mind Flayer?” Nancy asks, hesitant.
“If we throw them from above, yeah!”
You kiss Lucas’ cheek, only barely managing not to trip over your feet as you run. “I think you’re a genius, Sinclair.”
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 hasn’t 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.
You’re 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. He’s so much bigger than she is. She’s hardly even visible beneath him. Your stomach churns. “He’s here.”
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. “Flay this, you ugly piece of shit!”
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. 
Smoke begins to fill the air. The whistle of the rockets sting your ears. The light blinds you. It’s loud and messy and fireworks rain down upon the monster. Everyone throws the bundles they have, and yet still you hesitate. Billy’s 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. 
It’s horrible what’s happened to him. He didn’t deserve to become a pawn in this maddening game. 
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. 
“Hey, asshole. Over here!” Steve throws a firework and its blasts almost scorches the two of you. It’s 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. 
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. It’s deafening within the mall. It’s exhilarating. It’s dizzying. Reds, blues, yellows, greens all light up the sky. 
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 El’s 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 you’re quickly running out of ammunition. 
“Dustin, we’re out of time!” Steve screams into the walkie, breath heaving with soot on his face. 
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 won’t be enough. Someone has to close the gate, sever any connection the Upside Down has to your world. It’s the only way any of you are making it out alive. 
Yet it remains open, and Billy has now crawled back on top of El. 
She seems to be saying something to him, but in the cloud of smoke and explosions you can’t be sure. Robin helps you light the last firework, Steve aims it, and you’re 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 he’s stopped moving. 
“That was the last one!” Robin shouts over the screams of the fireworks. Steve runs a hand through hair and curses. There isn’t 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. 
“I’m going down!” You scream to Robin and Steve. You have to get down there. Someone has to be with them. They’re too close to the fire and explosions and monsters. 
“Y/N, wait–” Steve tries to stop you, but you plead with him. 
“Steve, I need you to trust me.” There’s a raw, overwhelming feeling within you that something bad is about to happen. You can’t shake it, the feeling of loss being inevitable frightens you. For three years now you’ve saved everyone, done everything right. For three years, you’ve gotten lucky. You don’t know how to explain all of this to Steve, the fear that has followed you ever since you first intercepted the Russian code. “Please.”
Maybe it’s the way you say it. Maybe it’s 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 can’t. 
You force yourself to pull away. “I’ll be back, take care of the others.”
And then you’re gone. 
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 they’re 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. 
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. 
Billy raises his arms, stopping the monster from piercing through El, protecting her. “No!” A guttural, animalistic scream tears apart his vocal chords. He screams, over and over again, as the Mind Flayer struggles against him. 
Max freezes in your arms, you feel her choke on her gasp. 
Everything happens slowly after that. 
The first claw that penetrates Billy’s side. 
The second one that cuts through his other side. 
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 he’s 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. 
Everything stops.
“Billy!” You will never forget the pain in Max’s scream. It will become yet another sound that haunts your nightmares. 
As you stand there with a paralyzed Max in your arms, the Mind Flayer drops Billy’s body onto the ground. He lands with a sickening thud. The Mind Flayer’s 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. 
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 Billy’s bleeding body. He shudders weakly where he lays, a pool of blood encasing his body. 
“Billy?” Max knees next to him. She’s crying, she doesn’t know what to do. There’s so much blood. “Billy, get up. Please, Billy. Get up, please.”
You kneel next to her, at her side through it all. 
Blood pours from Billy’s mouth. He coughs and the wet sound only makes Max cry harder. He looks up at you, his eyes are finally blue again. “Talking to you… sweetheart.”
But if you need anyone to talk to, about anything, come find me, okay?
Those had been your last words to him. 
“Billy…” He had tried to find you. He had been lost and scared and alone. He didn’t 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. “I’m sorry…” His chest heaves in pain, he labors two final breaths, before his chest falls entirely. It doesn’t rise again. 
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. “Billy.” 
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. 
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. 
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. 
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. 
You cry because you loved and have lost. You will blame yourself for having not said anything about Billy’s 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. 
And then you had left him. 
Billy Hargrove died alone.
You and Max will share the burden of this guilt. 
– 
Jonathan finds you first, then Steve. You’re on the floor, kneeling with Max in your arms, two broken pieces finding solace in the other. Billy’s body lies next to you, neither you nor Max can bear to look at it. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” they’re the only words you can say to the girl. 
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 doesn’t 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. 
Nancy and the others join. They leave a wide berth around the dead body before them. Nancy sees that you’re 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 you’ll need to evacuate soon.
“It’s okay, bug. You’re okay.” Jonathan whispers in your ear, one hand delicate on your arm. Steve’s hands rest upon your other arm, and together the two of them are able to get you onto your feet. 
Your body shakes, grief sits heavily upon your chest. Steve’s eyes never leave your weak frame. 
It’s all a blur after that. 
Firefighters break through the mall and evacuate the building. Nancy and Jonathan do all the talking. Someone, you think it’s Steve, carefully guides you through the maze of burning rubble and bodies. It’s raining outside and the soft thunder almost drowns out the drone of the helicopters that swarm the building. 
There are ambulances amongst the military trucks and you’re shoved into one by a concerned medic. The woman explains to you that you’re in shock, that your body is in a state of perpetual flight. She allows Steve to sit and stay with you only after she’s finished patching up his split lip and bruised eye. 
“It’s going to take some time to heal,” the medic explains to you. She’s soft spoken, maternal, and in your numb state she reminds you of your mother. “You kids went through a lot tonight.”
Time. 
It always goes back to time. 
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 shoulders’. 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. 
A car pulls up in the distance and its doors slam. Your eyes drift up, finding Joyce’s 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. 
Hopper isn’t 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. 
In the other ambulance next to you, El, who had been resting in Mike’s 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.
“Hopper’s dead.” They’re the first words you’ve spoken all night. Your voice is hoarse from disuse and the words echo, taunting you. 
Steve doesn’t say anything, only a heavy sigh leaves his body. 
There were three deaths tonight. Billy, Hopper, and El’s 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 hasn’t said anything all night, lost in her own grief and remorse. Joyce still sobs in Will’s arms. El grieves alone, mourning the closest thing she’s ever had to a father. 
You see Jonathan and Nancy whispering quietly to one another in another ambulance. They share a blanket like you do with Steve, but Nancy’s eyes are sunken in and Jonathan’s face is pale. Lucas and Mike sit together, too exhausted to say anything. 
You’re all bleeding or burned or bruised and you’re tired. 
“Sometimes…” Your voice cracks, tears threaten to silence you, and you force yourself to breathe in. Force yourself to focus, to get the words out. They’re important, somehow, even if you don’t know why. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve used up all my luck.”
Steve draws small circles into your ribcage. His fingers catch on the raised skin, the scar from when you saved his life last year. “Luck?”
“When Will went missing… It was pure luck that I found him. Brought him back home.” You weren’t 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. “It was luck that saved Will last year, too. Those tunnels…” 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. “And now I–”
Your words catch in your throat. Steve’s body presses against yours, he waits for you, patient. When your voice returns, you try again. “And now I… I’m not sure how I feel.”
“Why’s that, angel?” Steve listens, he tries to understand. “I mean, the Mind Flayer is gone. We won.”
You saved Hawkins. You saved El. You know this, and it should be enough, but it isn’t. “All the deaths that took place tonight stain everything.”
El’s 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. 
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. 
But all Billy ever knew in his life was violence and cruelty. It isn’t fair. 
“My entire life I’ve been lucky,” your chest constricts as you confess everything to Steve. All your fear, the doubt, the insecurity. “Now it–it feels like I’ve used up all my luck.” Your fingers find Steve’s, a mind of their own as your body seeks the solace only he can bring. He doesn’t know that he’s the reason you believe you’ve had more luck than anyone else in their life. “I… 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 we’ve been through together?”
Everything burns in Steve. He understands what you’re trying to say, he does, but he doesn’t 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. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong.”
You wipe your eyes, uncomfortable under Steve’s open and earnest gaze. “I’m wrong?”
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. “You’ve taught me a lot of things, but you’re 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.”
Steve remembers the first day he ever saw you. He’d 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. 
Your eyes stare into Steve’s 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. 
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. 
“And I’m lucky enough to be able to love you, angel.” 
Steve’s words cut through you. They’re the good that remind you of the light of the sun that follows the dark of the night. It’s 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. She’s in pain, but Mike bears the hurt with her. You see Jonathan and Nancy sleep soundly against each other, safe in the other’s arms. Lucas holds Max’s hand as Robin cracks a joke that gets the young girl to laugh. Will strokes his fingers through his mother’s hair, offering her love that only a son can. 
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 isn’t a pressure behind them, he doesn’t need you to say anything to him. He’s simply happy to have you in his arms, to have you with him now, to remind him of how lucky he is, and you’re so full of love for him. 
“I’m lucky enough to be able to love you, too, sweet honey.”
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. 
You finally, finally, have come home. 
– 
Time passes slowly afterwards; you take it one day at a time. 
After the mall burns down, your job is practically all but saved. It’s 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. 
“But at least Doris would be happy that I still have my store,” 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 couldn’t bear the silence in the house. Mrs. Waters sighed sadly, looking down. “I miss her.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Waters.” You squeezed her hand, mourned with her.
Hopper’s funeral took place a week after Starcourt burned down. The entire town showed up, something that you know the old man would’ve hated, and he was crowned Hawkins’ hero. You spent the ceremony in the very back, holding El’s hand, so that the two of you wouldn’t be seen.
Billy’s funeral was a few days after Hopper’s. Max sat alone at the front of the church, Billy’s father had been too drunk to attend and her mother couldn’t 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 hadn’t wanted to go home to an empty house, and you understood the feeling. 
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 she’s 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. 
During the first week you bake Joyce’s 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. 
Steve spends every single day with you, it doesn’t matter where you are. Without a job, he follows you everywhere. Whether you’re at work, at home, even at Jonathan’s or Nancy’s, he’s always able to find you with Robin right behind him. Nancy thinks the newfound trio is bizarre, but Jonathan can’t 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 you’re woken up by the ringing of your phone. 
“Hello?” Annoyance seeps through your greeting. You’ve only just managed to fall asleep, the nightmares at bay for once. 
“Come outside, angel.”
His voice wakes you up, the annoyance now replaced with confusion. “Steve?”
“Wear something warm, okay?”
“What–?” He hangs up, the line disconnects, and you’re completely taken aback by the phone call. You didn’t 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. 
You’re not entirely sure why he’s 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.
Steve’s car is parked two houses from yours, headlights off. There’s music faintly playing that can be heard through the window, and a familiar melody has you running to get inside. “The Beatles?”
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. 
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 you’ve 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. 
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.
“What, I don’t get a hello?” Steve is smiling ear to ear, seeing the flushed joy on your face and the cardigan you wear. 
You throw your body over the center console and hug him. “Hi, honey.”
As he drives, Steve is unusually quiet. His initial smug greeting upon your arrival is quickly overshadowed by a shy demeanor. Steve’s fingers fidget on the steering wheel, his foot taps against the car’s floor. The Beatles play softly within the car and somewhere along the route you find that the wooded scenery starts to look familiar.
He’s driving you to Lover’s Lake.
“Why are we heading towards the lake?” 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. 
A few minutes later Steve parks the car and wordlessly the two of you get out. It’s dark, the moon reflects off the lake’s water. Crickets sing in the air and the waves lap at the shore. It’s a beautiful night, the July heat is masked by the night’s breeze; your cardigan keeps you warm. 
Lost in admiring the view, you don’t 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. “What are you planning, Harrington?”
Steve grabs your hand. “You’ll see.”
He leads you down to the lake’s edge where the water meets the sand. There’s 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. 
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. 
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, “Thank you for staying.”
His breath warms your neck, and you know, without having to ask, what he’s thanking you for. Your promise to him last year, that you’d wait for him. He hadn’t been ready. The timing of it all wouldn’t have been right, but you knew, even back then, that you’d wait forever for Steve Harrington if it meant you’d receive even half of his love. 
Take your time, I’ll be here. 
“It was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” The words come easily to you, raw with truth and vulnerability. 
A soft sigh escapes Steve. He turns his head to you, eyes finding yours, and you’ve never seen such tenderness within him. He opens his mouth, sighs out the words you’ve longed to hear again since that night at Starcourt. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” You don’t think you’ll ever tire of saying those three words to him. There’s so much love within you, so much you’ve ached to give out ever since you were a little girl, and now you finally can. 
Steve kisses you with a softness that releases a sigh from your own lips, and you know he’s 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. 
Minutes, maybe even hours, pass as you kiss Steve. It’s lazy, no sense of urgency as your lips move against his. It’s warm, it’s soft. Eventually he manages to pull himself away from you, he’s brought you here for other reasons tonight. 
“Hold on, I got you something.” 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. There’s a small, lopsided candle on top of it.
“You came prepared tonight,” you tease him, still breathless from the kisses and love.
“My mom did, actually. She’s the one who made this.” You sit up and look at Steve, wide eyed. He laughs at you, finding your stunned reaction endearing. “Relax, angel. She really wanted to bake you something, and I had to make up for allowing Russians to ruin your seventeenth birthday, didn’t I?” 
Words escape you. Steve’s mom made you banana bread, a woman you have still yet to meet, though you’ve only heard fond stories about. She had insisted on doing this kind thing for you. 
Steve lights the candle and holds the plate up for you. “C’mon, make a wish, Y/N.”
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. It’s sweet and nostalgic and everything you could ever ask for. 
When you’ve finished eating, Steve claps his hands. “Alright, now onto the real event of the night!” 
You raise an eyebrow. “What, the kissing wasn’t enough?” Steve makes a panicked noise and you laugh at him. “I was teasing, honey.”
“You terrify me,” he huffs, before revealing a box from behind him, the very same one you’ve been curious about all night. 
“I aspire to be terrifying,” you stick your tongue out at Steve before turning the box over in your hands. It’s light, lighter than you expected. “Is this my gift you’ve been bragging about?” 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. 
“Open it and find out.” There’s a glint in Steve’s eyes, yet you also see the shyness return as well. He’s nervous to see your reaction, he wants more than anything to have gotten this right. 
You roll your eyes at him but open the box. It isn’t 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. It’s a small chain with two silver ovals on opposite sides. In between the two ovals is a collection of charms. 
“Is this…?” The charms are all roughly the same size, but each vastly different from the other. 
Steve nods at you, rubs the back of his neck. “It’s a charm bracelet.” 
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. There’s six charms, one for each member of the party. “Steve.”
“Have you figured it out–oomph!” 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. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
“How did you get the kids to do this?” You lay on top of him, blinking back tears as you hold the  bracelet delicately in your hands to admire it. 
Steve sighs in exasperation. “Money 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.”
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. “Mike?”
“Yup. Said something about Kermit the frog?”
“He’s such a little shit,” you say with fondness. Last year, when Billy had nearly choked you to death, your voice had been lost and Mike wouldn’t stop referring to you as Kermit. Your fingers skim over the pendant next to it, a simple blue one, and you smile. “Dustin?”
“He told me about your code blues.” 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, it’d been a special thing just between the two of you. 
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 he’ll always be your little bee. Lucas was able to find a small, white flower that resembles a dogwood, knowing that it’s your favorite. As for El, she chose a cookie based solely on her love for the ones you bake for her. 
“What about the ovals?” You ask Steve after he’s 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. 
He brushes hair out of your face and winks. “Turn them over.”
With slight confusion, you do, and discover that they’re engraved. Etched onto the back of one oval is honey, and, on the other, angel is written. They’re 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. 
“Oh my god,” it’s perfect, absolutely perfect. Your lips are all over Steve’s 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. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 
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. “You like it?”
“I love it, Steve!” 
“Does this make up for the whole Russian fiasco?” He asks, only joking a little bit. He still feels awful for dragging you into everything, but with time he’s learning to forgive himself. Before he overthinks it, Steve adds, “Am I now the best boyfriend in the world?”
His words make you blush, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to Steve being yours. You’ve 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. “You’ve definitely redeemed yourself for getting me trapped in a Russian lair on my birthday. And you’re definitely the best boyfriend in the world.”
Steve, despite being underneath you, does a victory dance and whoops into the night. He’s elated, his face shines when you look down at him, and you’ve 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 isn’t supposed to hurt, it’s supposed to feel like coming home after a long day of being out in the cold. 
After Steve helps you put on the charm bracelet, you lay together in the meadow. The lake’s 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 Steve’s neck and let out a sleepy exhale. 
Feeling this, Steve strokes the back of your hair. “You fallin’ asleep on me, Henderson?”
“I’m resting my eyes.” 
“Very convincing,” 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 can’t believe that he’s here right now with you. After everything he’s been through, he can’t believe that somehow he’s 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. “I think I like this July a whole lot better than the last one.”
It’s 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 Steve’s words remind you of something. You’ve never told him the real reason why you left last summer. Why you ran away from him. 
“I was scared, last summer.” 
Steve tilts his head at you. “Scared of what?”
“I was scared of falling in love with you,” the confession lifts from your chest. It hangs over you both, the weight of it tangible. Steve’s eyes soften, he lets out a soft oh, and you duck your head shyly. “Last July, you were… 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 just–I couldn’t do it. It wouldn’t have been fair, not to anyone, but I’m sorry.”
“Y/N…” Steve hadn’t 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. “Don’t apologize, okay? I honestly would’ve run away too, if I were you. I’m just… You came back to me, in the end. That’s all I care about.”
He’s too good for you. “I still hurt you.”
“You’re human,” Steve brushes more hair out of your face. “We all make mistakes. You ditched me for a few months and I almost got you killed by crazy Russians. I think we’re pretty even now.”
Despite the guilt in your throat, Steve manages to draw a smile from you. It’s what he’s 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 you’d be without him. “We always even our debts, huh?”
“It’s tradition at this point.”
And you laugh, full-bellied and loud and recklessly. It echoes into the night, Steve’s reverberates into your ears, and you’re happy. 
– 
A month passes, and in the mid-August heat, Jonathan knocks on your window late one night. 
His knuckles rap against the glass and it’s a sound reminiscent of before, when you were little kids who didn’t know how yet to hurt each other. You crawl out of your bed, curious, though happy nonetheless to let him in. 
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. 
Jonathan is crying. 
“Bee, oh my God.” You quickly open the window and he manages to crawl through, though sobs wrack his body. He’s shaking, and for a terrifying moment you think that something has happened to Will. “Is everything okay?”
He stands before you, chest heaving and eyes red, and with two words your world comes crashing down. “We’re moving.”
Time stands still. You’re seventeen and your childhood is coming to a close.
Somehow you’re holding onto Jonathan as he explains everything through his tears. He’s moving in early September, going all the way to California. He and his family are leaving Hawkins, leaving you. 
Your legs give out, or maybe it’s Jonathan’s, 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 you’ll never be able to do this again. 
“We need to–” 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. “We need to promise each other that–that we’ll see each other every day before you leave, in some capacity. It–it doesn’t matter how but–”
“I’ve already talked to Nancy about it, bug.” Jonathan wipes your tears, lets his own fall freely. He knew you’d say this, and he loves you all the more for it. “It’s been agreed.”
You nod, relieved. It isn’t much, it still doesn’t change the fact that Jonathan will leave you in the end, but at least you’ll make every last second with him count. You’ll move into the Byers home if you have to, they’re your family. He’s your person. He’s embedded into your skin, he’s nestled between your bones. 
Last year you and Jonathan promised you would never let go of each other. 
The year prior to that you promised each other that nothing would change between you two. 
Now, holding onto each other as the world you’ve been building together for five years comes crumbling down, you have to believe that the promises will be enough.
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 Steve’s car with resumes in their hands. Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming. 
“You put your mom down as a reference?” 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. 
“Yeah, why not?” Steve slams his door, straightens his shirt, and grabs your hand as you walk inside. “She’s like, super well respected.”
You share a look with Robin. “Rich kids,” you both groan at the same time. As much as you love Steve, you’ll neve quite get over how well connected he is. It’s bizarre and slightly terrifying how much the Harrington name can get you in this town.
“Whatever, call me a rich kid, but it’s my car you guys get free rides in.”
Robin rolls her eyes. “You’re such a dingus.”
“I didn’t ask to be here,” you remind Steve, though you thank him when he holds the store’s door open for you and Robin. “I think this could count as kidnapping.”
Robin bumps her hips against yours. “Not technically. Besides, I thought we agreed to leave our kidnapping days behind us after Erica?”
You shove the teen and follow her into the store. You look around at all the movies, slightly impressed. You’ve 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. There’s good music, few customers, and the uniformed vest is less mortifying than Scoop’s small shorts and sailor hats. “It’s not so bad in here.”
“Why thank you, pretty lady.” 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. “She doesn’t need you thanking her, buddy.”
You can tell that he wants to say more, but you see the “general manager” on Keith’s name tag and quickly try to deescalate the situation. If your idiot boyfriend wants the job, he can’t piss off the guy hiring. “Steve, why don’t we take a look around while Robin does all the talking?”
“What–” He doesn’t have a chance to argue, you’re already pulling him down a random aisle, throwing a quick “good luck!” to Robin as you leave. 
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. “Dingus, what are your three favorite movies?”
Steve nearly drops the movie he had been looking at. “Uh, Animal House?” You can practically hear Robin’s disappointed sigh from where you stand, and Keith looks unimpressed. Panicked, Steve whispers to you, “What are my favorite movies?”
“I don’t know!” You hiss, frantically trying to get this poor man a job. “Just, name two other movies. Animal House can’t be too bad, right?”
“Star Wars,” 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. 
The manager stares blankly at him. “A New Hope?”
“A new what now?”
You drop your head into your hands and sigh. He’s hopeless. Already knowing it’s a lost cause, you mumble to him, “It’s a Star Wars movie, Steve.”
He snaps his fingers. “Right! Yeah, it’s the one with the teddy bears, isn’t it?” Steve makes what you think is supposed to be an Ewok sound, which only makes you sigh again. Sensing he’s fucked up, Steve tries to backtrack. “No? Uh… Oh! The one that just came out, the movie. The one with DeLorean and Alex P. Keaton and he’s trying to bang his mom.”
“Oh, dear.” It’s a trainwreck, one you can’t look away from, and Robin can only shake her head at you. “Steve?”
“Yeah?” 
“Stop talking.”
“Uh, yeah.” Steve clears his throat, he knows he’s rambling. Had he known he would have a goddamn pop quiz about movies, he wouldn’t have dragged you here for the interview. “Those are my top three. Classics.”
Keith looks between you, Steve, and Robin. He points to Robin first, “You start Monday.” He points to Steve, “You start never.” And then he points to you, “You can start whenever.”
“Okay, I get why you’re telling me no,” Steve waves a hand in front of you, “but she didn’t even apply!” 
You’re also confused by how this day is turning out, and you look at Robin, wide eyed and pleading. She’s 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. “Will you just, um… Will you guys give us a minute?” 
“Why?” Steve doesn’t move, and you want to throw a shoe at him. 
“Let’s go, pretty boy.” You grab the back of his shirt and yank him back to the aisle of movies. He doesn’t fight you, he simply accepts his fate and allows you to drag him away. Before turning the corner, you nod at Keith. “Thanks for the job offer, but you should really give it to the guy I’m currently dragging.”
Robin snickers at Steve’s 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 you’re distracted, Steve runs into a life-sized cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates wearing a red bikini. 
He fights with it, tries desperately not to let it fall, all while his resume hangs from his mouth. “Shit! Oh, Fast Times! Ever heard of it? Top three for me, Keith.” Robin laughs and Steve turns the cardboard cutout to you, wiggling his eyebrows. “Own any red bikinis?”
You flick his forehead, though you laugh as well. “In your dreams.”
“I can sleep right now and find out–”
“I will flick you again.”
“A kiss is preferred, but whatever.”
– 
When the Byers move, you spend the entire day fighting back tears as you help them pack. 
You spent the night in Jonathan’s 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. 
As the morning sunlight began to stream into Jonathan’s 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 isn’t looking, you steal a few t-shirts and flannels from his closet. He won’t notice they’re gone until he’s halfway to California. 
When it gets too much, seeing all of Jonathan’s 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 can’t take it anymore. You go into Will’s room, and it’s the same. You cry, he cries with you, and it’s bittersweet. The rooms empty, the boxes grow.
El’s room is the hardest to pack, she has so few items to call her own, and you’re both silent as you move through the room together. 
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. It’s all there, pieces of you frozen in time.
As you tape a box labeled “games” in Jonathan’s messy handwriting, you hear Max and Lucas singing in the living room. The sound makes you smile. It’s one of Max’s better days, she’s teasing Dustin for singing with Suzie, and she’s 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. 
You place the box next to the others and walk towards Jonathan’s room. He’s leaning against its door frame with Nancy beside him, and you join them. You stare at the empty room, the one you’ve called your second home ever since you were twelve. It hurts, seeing it stripped of everything. 
All of Jonathan’s boxes are in the living room, filled with the things that make him who he is. There’s a drawer in your room of things Jonathan has left over the years, and you’re never giving them back. They’re all you have left of him. 
You and Jonathan take in his barren room, and you sigh against the door frame. “It’s so… empty.”
Nancy crosses her arms. “Is that everything?”
“I guess so,” 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. There’s scuff on the closet door from the time the two of you thought it’d be a good idea to play blind-folded baseball in the small room. 
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. “Seventeen years of my life… packed up in one day.”
His voice is melancholic, his body is sad. You nudge Nancy, nod your head in Jonathan’s direction, urging her to go after him. She nods, understands that you’re 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 can’t say goodbye just yet. 
“Thank you,” she whispers, following after Jonathan. 
You find El as she’s leaving Joyce’s room. She’s holding a piece of paper, clutched closely to her chest. There are tears in her eyes, though you know better than to ask why. It’s a sad day for everyone, you’ll let her grieve on her own. However, that doesn’t stop you from pulling the girl into a fierce hug. 
“I’ll miss you so much, sweetheart.” You mumble, kissing the top of her head. “I don’t know who’s going to paint my nails now.”
El laughs through her tears and holds you tight. “I can ask Mike to.”
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. “I’d love to hear how that goes.”
“I will write you,” El promises, and you nod eagerly at her. She pulls you in for one last hug before finally releasing you to go see Joyce. 
The woman greets you with a tired smile when you walk into her room. She’s kneeling on the floor, folding clothes. They’re baggier than what she normally wears, darker, and you finally realize that they’re Hopper’s. 
A lump forms in your throat. She shouldn’t be doing this alone, packing away the remnants of his life. “Here, let me help.”
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. It’s 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. 
“I don’t blame you, you know.” Joyce speaks softly next to you, catching your attention. “At all.”
You look up at her, sucking in a breath. “I don’t… I don’t know what you mean, Mrs. Byers.”
“The guilt, honey.” She places a hand on your arm, gentle as she always is with you. “I know you blame yourself for what happened to Will, but you shouldn’t. You have to let go of it. I want…” Joyce pauses, looks into your eyes the way a mother does to her daughter. “I want you to promise me that you’ll live the life that you deserve, because you’ve spent half of your life making sure my boys lived the lives that they deserved. Can you do that for me?”
“I…” You’re crying, you don’t know what to say. For years you’ve carried the guilt of Will’s disappearance, and for even longer you’ve 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 Joyce’s words undoes something in you. “I promise.”
Joyce pulls you into her arms and hugs you, tears in her own eyes. She strokes your hair, hugs you as she’s always done since you were a little girl. She echoes the final words that Hopper told you. “You’re the best of them.”
You’re not sure how long you cry in Joyce’s arms, but when she soothes you and wipes your tears away, she tells you to go find Will. They’re leaving soon, he’ll want to see you, and you wish the woman one final goodbye before going to find her son. 
Will ends up being in the hallway, you find him just after he’s said goodbye to Mike. You note the longing in his eyes, the uncertainty in his posture as his friend leaves. There’s 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. 
“Hey, little bee.”
He turns around, the softness in his eyes when he sees you makes you homesick. “Y/N!”
Will buries his face in your chest, and you hug him just as tightly back. He’s grown so much since you first met him. He’s no longer the shy little boy who had been afraid of his own shadow, and you can’t believe you won’t get to finish watching him grow up. “I swear, you’re going to be taller than me next time I see you. Won’t be able to call you little bee anymore.”
“I’ll always be your little bee,” Will squeezes you tighter, afraid to let go of you. 
“Good,” you ruffle his hair, making him to laugh. “I’ll miss you, but I’m sure you already know that.”
“I’ll miss you, too.” Will’s 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 he’s afraid of something.
You frown. “Hey, what is it?”
“I’m scared,” The words rush from his mouth. “What if… What if I don’t make any friends?” He lowers his voice, looks around nervously, before trusting to say the words out loud to you. “I–I’m different, Y/N.”
Will’s fear hurts you to see, you wish you could do more, promise him that it will all be okay, but you can’t. 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. “You’re the bravest kid I know. I have no doubt that you’ll be fine. I mean, you’ll have Jonathan and El with you, but if you ever need me, I’m just a phone call away. I love you, and that will never change.”
You stroke the boy’s cheek with your finger, and he leans into the gentle touch. “I’m rooting for you, always.”
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 he’ll be okay. He’s a brilliant kid, he’s been through more than anyone else his age ever has. He’s resilient, his kindness is his strength, you just hope that he can recognize that himself one day. 
As you pull away from the hug, Will’s eyes catch on someone, you turn around. It’s Jonathan, standing by the front door, waiting for you. 
It’s time to say goodbye. 
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. 
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 Jonathan’s shoulder, he presses a kiss to your temple. Your fingers interlock and the cool September air surrounds you.
“I made you something,” 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. “I, uh, used the money I won from the betting pool to make it. Dustin was pretty annoyed with me for winning.”
You snort at the image of your brother berating your friend for winning a betting pool about how long it’d take Steve to ask you out. Taking the mixtape from Jonathan, you read the songs. There’s eight songs on it, the first one being a Beatles song from your childhood; you don’t know how Jonathan knew that. Though most of them are familiar, the writing on the paper is old, faded with age. “How long have you been making this, bee?”
Jonathan looks away from you and swallows. “A while, I guess. Listen to it after I leave, okay? That way, if you hate it, I’ll never have to know.” His demeanor is odd, there’s something he’s not telling you, but it’s your last day with him. You leave it alone for now, not wanting to ruin it. 
“You’re not allowed to find a new best friend.” You tell him instead, the silence becoming too much to bear. It’s a joke, though truthfully you don’t want Jonathan to find another best friend. He’s supposed to be yours, only yours, and you’re supposed to be his. 
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Jonathan lets out a soft laugh, and you’re 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. “I mean, we were kids together, bug.”
You start to cry, and he does as well. You’ve never had to say goodbye to each other before. Not like this. The two of you sit on the porch of Jonathan’s childhood home and cry. You cry into his neck, he buries his face into your hair, and it’s all so unfair. 
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. 
“Bee, we were more than just kids together.”
And it’s true. You were everything together. Now, you have to figure out how to be everything while apart. 
– 
The last of the boxes are placed in the moving van. Everyone is crying, you’re all gathered around one another, hugging and saying goodbye. 
You hold El tight and whisper good luck to her. You remind Will that everything will be okay, knowing how scared he’s 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. 
“Remember what you promised me, okay?” She catches your eye, makes sure you hear what she’s telling you. “Live the life that you deserve.”
“I will,” 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. 
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. “I’ll always love you the most, bee.”
“And I’ll always love you the most, bug.” 
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 Nancy’s 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 it’s just you and your brother standing in front of the house. 
Dustin stays beside you, as he always does, and you take a deep breath. Nothing will ever be the same again. 
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
Joyce’s words ring in your head.
It’s time to live the life that you deserve. You’re on your own now, though you know that really you aren’t. 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. 
The charm bracelet from the party and Steve is cool against your wrist. 
You’re no longer the scared, angry twelve year old you had been when you first moved to Hawkins. You’re loved, you have so many incredible people in your life who now get to watch you grow up into someone new. 
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. 
[END OF SEASON THREE]
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tinycoffeeroom · 5 months
Text
end of beginning | carlos sainz
face claim: none ᡣ𐭩
requests: here !
tags: angst, break up (rebeccarlos ily pls this is just for the story)
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september 2023
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👤 carlossainz, charles_leclerc liked by carlossainz, chares_leclerc and 70,385 others
y/nstagram boyfie won another race but looking at the second pic, i may be the real winner ❤️
carlossainz princesa, contigo a mi lado, siempre soy el ganador (princess, with you by my side, i'll always be a winner) ↳ y/nstagram stop you'll make me blush 🤭
charles_leclerc stop being gross and in love on my feed ↳ y/nstagram carlossainz should we kiss in front of him again xx ↳ carlossainz sin duda ❤️ (definitely) ↳ charles_leclerc i hate it here
user1 i want to be y/n when i grow up (i am 2 years older than her) ↳ y/nstagram then it should be i wanna be user1 when i grow up 😘 also where is your top from in your pfp, i love it!! ↳ user1 ??? im in love with you ??? it's from this little boutique near my house! i can send you one!!! ↳ y/nstagram omg i will send you the money!! 🫶
user2 this is why we stan y/n, a true girls girl ❤️ ♥️ y/nstagram
francisca.cgomes even the back of you is gorgeous ↳ y/nstagram kiss me. ↳ francisca.cgomes come here 😘 ↳ pierregasly i miss when my girlfriend was only My girlfriend ↳ y/nstagram not my fault she upgraded x ↳ pierregasly i will take carlos out on the first corner don't try me ↳ carlossainz you'll have to catch me first hombre
january 2024
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liked by kellypiquet, francisca.cgomes and 39,495 others
y/nstagram bed rotting but make it 🎀 aesthetic 🎀
user1 she still watches f1 y/nsainzers there's hope ↳ user2 she hasn't been to a race in months :((( hope is dwindling
user3 the bear i'm gonna scream, cry AND throw up ↳ user4 what's the significance of the bear?? i'm new to f1 :) ↳ user3 carlos got y/n the bear when he joined f1 so she would have something to remember him by when he went away on race weekends ↳ user4 and she still has it?? it must have been like 10 years ago?? ↳ user3 roughly around that!! 2015 if i'm correct...
kellypiquet i see the red bull on your screen 😉 would love to have you back with me in the paddock, P misses her bestie ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram P saw me last week when i spoilt her rotten in the mall but i may take you up on that offer ❤️
user2 y/n in the red bull garages??? y/nsainzers i fear we've lost her... ↳ user1 carlos may be moving to red bull don't give up hope best friend!
march 2024
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liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 924,495 others
carlossainz P1 in Australia :) thank you for the well wishes guys, maybe my appendix was what was holding me back 😉🎉
landonorris booking the surgery rn ↳ carlossainz you still wouldn't win muppet ↳ landonorris wow carlos... low blow
user1 the last pic... pls say it's y/n PLEASEEEEEEEEEE acc on my knees rn ↳ user2 i'm down there with you best friend
iamrebeccad congrats mister!! next up: the world championship ♥️ carlossainz
user3 ^^ um guys ↳ user2 don't ↳ user1 don't.
charles_leclerc i'll get you next time... ↳ carlossainz ok charlie, i believe you
scuderiaferrari forza carlos! congrats on P1, not even surgery could keep you down 💪 ↳ user5 you bitches don't deserve to celebrate
maxverstappen1 strong fight there mr sainz! looking forward to japan where i'll be back on top! ↳ carlossainz fuck you This comment has been deleted
user3 UM GUYS??????? ↳ user2 do not look at f1wagupdates i'm being so serious ↳ user1 well now i have to FUCK
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liked by user8, user9 and 93,283 others
f1wagupdates Carlos Sainz seen kissing Scottish model Rebecca Donaldson following his Australia GP win. He was previously linked to long time girlfriend Y/N L/N but the pair haven't been seen together since December last year. We guess this marks the end of their decade long relationship.
user2 carlos sainz i'm in your walls.
user1 man, fuck carlos sainz
user3 3 months ?? if that ?? glad his appendix burst ↳ user2 reports (twitter) are saying R + C were first seen together in January... ↳ user3 the c*rlos s*inz voodoo doll is being made as we speak.
user4 all men do is lie. what happened to "until the end of time"... i don't believe in love anymore
user5 i feel so bad for rebecca, y/n's so loved by the paddock and the fans ↳ user3 obvs no hate to rebecca, she's gorgeous and i'm sure she's lovely, this is solely carlos hate ♥️ user1, user2 and 19,349 others
user6 bro fumbled the bag with y/n man
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👤 kellypiquet, maxverstappen1, landonorris, redbullracing liked by landonorris, kellypiquet and 58,395 others
y/nstagram different point of view 💙
redbullracing pleasure to have you back in the paddock y/n! see you in japan? 👀 ↳ y/nstagram i'll be there best friends (pls stock up on coconut red bulls) 🫶 ↳ redbullracing 🫡
kellypiquet the last pic?? i love you so much?? ↳ y/nstagram y'all are so cute i couldn't stop myself 🤭
maxverstappen1 thanks for coming y/n! i've missed seeing you around ↳ y/nstagram missed you too maxie! P says she wants me to come to every race so you may be stuck with me this year! ↳ maxverstappen1 just please don't steal my girlfriend ↳ y/nstagram she may be your girlfriend but she's My wife ♥️ kellypiquet
francisca.cgomes why didn't you tell me you were coming!! i would have ditched pierre :(( ↳ pierregasly everyday i wake up ↳ y/nstagram unfortunately ↳ pierregasly bro...
landonorris you got the champagne shot in action! missed seeing you around bug! ↳ y/nstagram had to see it with my own two eyes! congrats on the podium lan, you so deserve it ❤️ ↳ landonorris let's get dinner tomorrow, it's been too long ↳ user1 mr norizz shooting his shot on main damn ↳ landonorris 🤷‍♂️
carmenmmundt all the girls are getting together for dinner and drinks, you coming babe? ↳ y/nstagram i'm having dinner with kelly, max and P but i'll join for drinks after ❤️
user2 goodbye goodbye y/nsainzer's you were brighter than the whole sky ↳ user3 y/n deserves the world, if That Man couldn't give it to her that's on him.
june 2024
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👤 kellypiquet, carmenmmundt, francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, lilymhe liked by kellypiquet, carmenmmundt and 58,029 others
y/nstagram healing ❤️
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haetrack · 3 months
Note
HEY HEY ITS 🪐 ANON I JUST GOT OFF WORK AND AJAJWKWK
https://pin.it/64UhBTuZc (inspired by this)
IMAGINE HARCHAN NUZZLING INTO U WHILE FUCKING U ANJAJKEK IM FERAL. (Gn reader)
[link]
a/n: i am so sorry this took so long but it’s like i got hit with a loving a sweet haechan láser and i had to write this like NOW
-
it’s not unusual for haechan to try to wrap himself around you.
he’s always been a touchy person. days where he traps you in a bear hug, days where he can’t seem to leave your side. he always likes having a hand somewhere on you, finding comfort knowing that you’re right by his side.
today, as you’re laying in bed, you find haechan hovering by the door. he got back from practice, just changed into some fresh clothes so he can join you.
he’s quick to throw himself on top of you, practically knocking the wind out of you. he doesn’t bother to move, and you don’t bother to push him off of you. your hands thread through his hair, hearing the satisfied hum he lets out at the feeling.
“how was work?” you ask.
he doesn’t respond verbally, letting out a low whine against your chest. you chuckle at the sound, one of your hands moving the hair at the nape of his neck, causing him to shiver. he whines out, “i just… need you.”
it’s only then that you feel how he’s hard against your thigh, how he’s subtly grinding into you. when he looks up at you, you can see his flushed cheeks and his hooded eyes. all you want to do is make him feel good.
he pulls himself up to look in your eyes before kissing you, slow and deep. his lips feel soft against yours, one of your hands reach to hold his cheek. your thumb smooths against his skin, watching him pull away from you so he can nuzzle into your touch.
he looks sweet like this, just a bit needy for your touches.
your thumb instinctively moves to trace over the moles of his face, feeling the soft smile he makes against your lips. he sighs contentedly when your hands fumble with the waistband of his sweats, your fingers slipping under his boxers to toy at his leaking tip.
it’s easy for you to give into him, letting him pull of your shirt and sweats, whining because he wants to feel you too. as he lazily presses kisses onto your neck, his hands wander all over you, hands touching you as he pleases.
as much as he would like to stay like this with you, the feeling of your hands running through his hair makes his heart race. he thinks he might be the luckiest person ever to be able to have you like this, to be able to share such a moment with you.
even if he’s a little impatient, haechan softly presses his fingers into you, prepping you just to make sure your comfortable. it doesn’t last long though, not when you’re squirming around, letting out quiet moans of his name.
a few moments later, he’s lining himself up, and you can feel just how needy he is when as his cock twitches against you. he leans over to kiss you, letting out a soft whimper against you as he bottoms out.
“s-so tight… just for me, right?” his voice his a little shaky when it reaches your ears. you respond with your hips grinding up into his, trying to fit him deeper inside you.
the feeling causes his head to fall to your shoulder, his warm breath hitting your skin as his hair lightly tickles you. you can feel his nose rub against your neck, trying to surround as much of himself with the feeling of you.
“i don’t… don’t think i’ll last long. you feel so good wrapped around me.” his words feel hot against you, and it’s only emphasized as he messily fucks into you. there’s no rhythm, no set pace, just a need to make the both of you feel good.
“it’s okay, love seeing you like this.” your hands press down against his back, pushing his chest into yours just to get him as close as possible. you can feel his eyes shut at your words, practically giving into you.
he kisses your shoulder before speaking, “needed you all day. just- just wanted you like this. wanted to hold you close to me.”
your nails dig into the skin of his back, drawing a moan out of him. you can feel him begin to shake against you, his cock twitching inside of you. he can’t help but succumb to you. everything about you makes him so weak.
despite how close he is to cumming, he continues, “can’t get enough of you. everything about you is perfect- you feel so nice against me.”
all you can do is moan out, caging him around you as you wrap your arms around his back. his whimpers raise in pitch, fucking helplessly into you, “gonna cum, gonna fill you up with all my cum…”
“please, haechan, wanna make you feel good.”
as soon as you place a soft kiss to the top of his head, his quick to cum inside you. moans of your name fill the air. his hands grip at your sides, trying to ground himself as he’s caught up in the feeling of you.
he tries to continue fucking his hips into you knowing that you didn’t cum, but he whines with how sensitive he is. you chuckle, calling his name out so you can press a kiss to his forehead. he thanks you quietly, head moving to nuzzle against your neck.
he quietly asks, pressing another kiss to your neck, “don’t you want me to return the favor?”
you murmur, “just stay here with me.”
you can feel him nodding against you, his cheek feeling warm against the skin of your collarbone. your heartbeat slows down, matching with haechan’s. all that’s left is the low hums of a song he lets out as you run your fingers along his back.
you wouldn’t trade this for the world.
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animeshotsh · 7 months
Text
Control | Various x Overlord!Makima!Reader
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Notes: Reader has the same powers as Makima from Chainsaw Man. Im leaving a link here in case you want to read about them in deep detail.
Warnings: HH violence - Cursing - Blood -
When a soul falls down to hell no one takes notice of it. You were lowkey thankful for it, your clothes the same ones as the one you had died were dity with mud and blood. Your white shirt was ruined, your black coat had holes on it.
Thats a magnificent disaster
You never expected you would be stabed in the back by one coworker, and that would be the cause of your death. But your greed was big and so was theirs so you were sure you were going to meet them down here soon.
As impressive as this was you were not under panic, maybe having to watch your back 24/7 when you were alive had helped to it.
In that dark alley you stood considering your choices when a small creature with horns appear, it showed a knife at you and jumped.
You moved your head to the side "is this a demon?" You wondered swiftly avoiding its attack. Then like instinct you raised your arm, your fingers like a gun, pointing at the demon.
"Bam" you whispered and soon the chest of the demon exploted. You looked at your fingers then at the corpse a few meters away a sadistic smile forming.
"I wonder what more I can do"
~☆~☆~☆~☆
In no time you got a name for yourself, The Control Demon. A Demon who could force others to make contracts with them, a demon who could use the power of the demons who they had a contract with.
Manipulation was your middle name. Overlords respected you and some feared you.
~☆~~☆~☆~☆
Carmilla was always wary around you, knowing your power. Her angel weapons were in reach whenever you attended a meeting. She could see behind that fake smile and eyes.
~☆~☆~☆
Zestial was amazed by your power. He knew he was strong and heavens you were stronger. He would start conversations with you only to try and get on your good side.
~☆~☆~☆
Rosie loved you, she knew you could put all the cannibal town against her but that was just amazing in her eyes, not to say, you using other overlord powers was something to enjoy.
Something she got to know was that you could force a sinner to say a name and by moving your hand that one named would explote.
~☆~☆~☆
Alastor was...well he was interested. He wanted to know if you could get him out of his own contact but then again for that he would have to confess that he had a leash on. Something he did not want to do at all.
~☆~☆~☆~
When Charlie first meet you she was...scared. Listening to your name being told and the stories....but she was sure something good was in everybody so of course she opened her hotel doors for you. Even if you were only there to see the place.
~☆~☆~☆
Vaggie straight up hated you. If Alastor was a pest then you were worse. She did not want nothing to do with you. But she also knew she was no competition against you. Specially after seeing your spiral eyes as you moved away her weapon.
"Please, at least learn how to proper use it, angel"
~☆~☆~☆~
Lucifer was charmed!!
Yes the king of hell fell for your sweet words and compliments like a young fella.
"Your majesty its a pleassure to meet the one who rules in here" You said bowing towards the short king who was suprised by your polite self.
You ended showing him the place after Alastor killed the other sinners and told him sweet nothings about hell and him. How you always have wanted to meet him (no). And he ate all up.
That night Lucifer ended on his bed blushing hard thinking about you.
~☆~☆~☆
Vox had tried to follow you only to end with a panic attack as he saw your spiral eyes staring back at him from one monitor.
"Its not polite to spy you know"
And now Vox has nightmares of you.
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sturniolo04 · 8 days
Text
Piggy Back Rides M.S.
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Bf!Matt x Gf!Fem!Reader
Summary: in which you love getting piggy back rides from your boyfriend
A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you :)
it was no secret you and matt love language was physical touch. Any chance you get you guys have to be touching each other it could even be a simple a linking pinkies for that matter you just had to been touching the other or you would go insane.
Although having been dating for a little over a year, you guys have figure out what form of physical touch you much crave from one another. Matt loves having his hands on you thighs it was not only a comfort thing for him especially when he was driving but it was also way to say that your were his and he and you knew it. For you you just love resting you head or even nuzzling your face in your boyfriends neck while your manicured hands run up and down his back or torso.
It was one of those nights that you were spending with your boyfriend and his brothers at their shared house, you sitting on the counter watching the triplets bicker about what to cook for dinner, them ultimately agreeing on mac and chesse.
" what are we wanting to do tomorrow"
nick asks chris and matt seeing they were all in kitchen still, matt turns around so his back was now facing you while he was still positioned in between your legs. You slowly sigh out clamly beginning to wrap your arms and let them drape over your boyfriends shoulders on either side.
" it doesnt matter to me honestly"
chris repsonds to his brother looking at matt as he shrugs his shoulder. you let out and audible sigh that your boyfriend could hear.
'whats wrong"
he chuckles out
" you have to move so i can get down"
"why"
"because matt im going to piss myself if you don't"
"i can just give you a piggy back ride there"
he chuckles grabbing your thighs wrapping them across his waist as you giggle tightly securing you arms around his neck.
"okay then byee"
you squeal out to nick and chris.
and thats how it started and it didn't have to be formal like that it could be a simple as you two standing in the position and not having a destination in mind.
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" do you guys ever get tired of standing like that honey"
marylou asks her middle child seeing you were all standing in the kitchen with you clinging onto your boyfriend's back. As he simple shakes his head in response to his mom swaying from side to side knowing you are practically falling asleep from the motion.
"no mom they are always doing that and I don't get it"
nick complains out
"its fucking annoying"
chris chimes in as marylou smack him gently in the stomach for his choice of words.
"agh sorry mom but its true"
he groans out defending himself.
"okay then well do you like it"
she questions you smiling at you practically half asleep on her sons shoulder.
"mhm"
you yawn out letting your eyes flutter close.
"take her to bed honey"
marylou chuckles as matt walks upstairs saying good night to his family.
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It's gotten to the point that sometimes mattt would even come up with any excuse to have you on his back.
"baby come on lets go for a walk"
matt pouts as he is standing in front of your sitting figure on your couch.
"matt it like 6:30 in the evening and its suppose to rain in like 20 mintues"
you huff out as he pushes his knee to push apart your knees to create space for in to sit in between them on the couch.
"matt what are you doing"
you giggle out just rolling with whatever your boyfriend is trying to do at this given moment. Matt proceeded to wrap your arms around his neck and then your legs after.
"matt"
you exclaim out as he stand up off of the couch jumping a few times to readjust you on his back and to get a better grip on your thighs. Matt starts making his way to the front door with you kicking you feet trying to get him to halt in his actions before walking out the front door seeing its now raining.
"matt no i dont want to get wet"
you groan and exclaim out, knowing even telling him this information he is still going to proceed to get you wet.
"oh come on its just rain"
he chuckles as he steps outside allowing the rain to start pouring over your guys figure, leaving a cool feeling on the bare skin of your arms.
"okay okay i want to go back inside now"
you complain to you boyfriend after being outside on just the driveway.
"MATTHEW"
you scream out as he sprints down the driveway into the street of the neighborhood, as you grip onto his shoulders tightly and then proceeding to dig your face into the side of his neck and shoulder as he spins you two around.
"look at these two idiots"
chris states from the inside of the house staring out the window with Nick right beside him recording the whole thing.
"they are so in love it make me sick honestly"
Nick jokes out as Chris chuckles.
In the end, to say piggy back rides have become you and matt's favorite thing would be an understatement.
Taglist
@mintsturniolo @dirtylittleheart333 @wh0resstuff @spicymuffins03 @stayingstromboli @aaliyahsturn
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seeingivy · 6 months
Text
picnic
sukuna x f!reader
**part of my best friend's older brother fic
previous part linked here
(^^make sure you check since this was a double upload and I posted the last one very recently :D)
--
dear head of the cullen clan,  keep evening plans open – im getting off work early and we’re going on a picnic.  coldest regards,  the head of the volturi  (ps. am expecting a very wholehearted appreciation for the fact that it’s coldest regards and not warmest regards, because they are, in fact, vampires and therefore cold. because they don’t have a heart and such.)  (extra ps. this is a link to a shared spotify playlist. i’ll add a song and then you add one. we’ll keep it going.) 
you snort. 
dear aro of the volturi (does he have a last name???),  so much to unpack in one email, yet again. you really know how to keep a girl on her toes.  first and foremost, you are SOOOO ran through. so offended that i wasn’t the person who got to put you on to twilight and whoever it was, I HOEP SHE DIES! if you’re team jacob, you’re a freak.  second, SO VERY FLATTERED that you think i would be carlisle. a little haunting that you think YOU would be aro…but it’s ok cuz former companions to enemies back to lovers in our case would be kind of crazy???  third. done and done. i just added a song so hurry up bc i have like ten other songs i want to add and i am #impatient  see u after work pookie :D,  carlisle cullen  (very appreciative of the cold regards. you are a king among men.) 
his response back is very prompt. 
Never call me pookie again.  (very offended that you think i’d be stupid enough to be team jacob. and direct your murderous rage towards yuuji and my mom, who forced me to watch it in theaters with them.) 
--
you wait for sukuna at the park two blocks down the apartment complex. the sun is hours away from dipping into the horizon, the chilly wind rustling through the trees. you realize now that the red skirt and white sweater might betray you in a few hours but decide that you’ll simply have to steal his jacket when he gets here. 
and you would have already but he’s twenty minutes late.
and while this part of the city is extremely safe, sukuna’s ever constant fear of people attacking you on subway trains and stabbing you in alleyways has instilled an acute fear of strangers in you, which is why you’re gripping the sparkly pink pepper spray he bought you very harshly in your palm right now. 
you think it’s sweet that he bought you a pink one. 
but of course it’s severely ironic that you almost used it on him. 
because he scares the living daylights out of you, by placing his hand around your shoulder from behind. 
“hey. i’m sorry i-” 
“jesus fuck-” 
you instinctively hold the pepper spray up to his face, your hands shaking in front of you. 
“i’ll use it, you pervert!” 
sukuna leans his head to the side, which is when you’re finally able to log that it’s actually him standing in front of you and not a stranger, and you drop your hands in embarrassment. 
“i mean, i’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t doll face but–” 
“oh my god, sukuna. i thought you were trying to rob me!” 
“i’m smarter than that. the only thing inside your purse is lip gloss, which has very little value to me.” sukuna responds, dropping the little basket at his feet and taking the little stalk of flowers out of the top handle. 
“i’ll have you know that it’s actually sold out in every store right now. so you could make bank if you sold it.” 
“don’t tempt me. and for your sake, i’ll accept the apology you didn’t give me for just trying to rob me of my eyesight and for calling me a pervert? i’m getting really tired of the age gap jokes, y/n.” sukuna responds, as he lifts your hands at your sides and places the stalk of flowers in your hand. 
you give him a big smile as you press your nose to the flowers, the scent fresh in your nose. and sukuna props down, setting a billowing white blanket on the ground before he taps the spot next to him and signals for you to sit next to him. 
“who needs eyes?” you joke, as you squeeze his hands and set the flowers down next to the little basket. 
“me, dipshit. how else am i supposed to look at you?” 
you cover your hands with your cheeks as you watch him place all of the little things inside the basket next to you, laying them out perfectly. it’s albeit a weird assortment – two wine glasses, perfectly wrapped sandwiches, a mini-cake, and strawberry lemonade. 
“well, stop perceiving me. this is so weird!” you murmur. 
it’s enough to catch his attention and stop him in his tracks. 
“what?” 
the question makes you pause. and a little embarrassed. it was a little harsh to say while you were joking.
“oh, i mean…i didn’t mean it like that! i was making a joke about perceiving because eyes…vision…and i almost took your vision away! and you perceive with your eyes, because how else would you see…” 
sukuna smiles, before shaking his head, and continuing spilling out the last of the contents – a set of gouache paints and two little small canvases. and he drops to his feet, yanking his shoes off, before sitting flat on the blanket and gesturing for you to join him. 
“there’s no way in hell that was what you meant. but we’ll ignore that for the time being.” sukuna responds, hiking his legs to his chest and gesturing towards the spread he just put out. 
you tilt your head to the side in confusion. 
“you look very pretty today.” sukuna responds. 
“thanks! you too!” 
he narrows his eyes. 
“uh huh. well, pick what we do first. the paint, the sandwiches, or the weird wine glass cake.” 
“the wine glass cake? like from tiktok?” you ask. 
“correct. i’m really bad at…cute dates. so…i did some research.” 
sukuna refuses to look at you. because after admitting it, he’s suddenly busied himself with reading the back of the box of paints, like it’s the most riveting, intriguing thing he’s ever read in his life. 
but the pink flush that’s creeping down his neck betrays him entirely, as you reach forward and push the little box down. and sukuna’s already glaring at you. 
you place your chin on the top of his knees, reaching for one of his hands and smiling. 
“you did research for a date?” 
“you can choke on your spit.” 
you grin. 
“you really know how to turn a girl on.” 
“you’re filthy.” 
you grin. 
“and you’re actually so precious, i–” 
“don’t call me precious, y/n.” he whines, as he reaches forward to flick on your forehead. 
you smile as you sit by his side, tucking the folds of your skirt under your leg as you reach for both of the wine glasses and hand him one. 
“so how humbling was it to have satoru explain all this to you?” you ask. 
he sneers. 
“don’t even ask. he’s like the biggest nuisance i’ve ever met in my life. top ten worst moments of my life.” sukuna responds. 
“i’m flattered you humbled yourself to him for me.” 
“i actually asked suguru. they’re like…two peas in a pod, they can’t do shit without each other. the paints and stuff they gave me and the nice basket too.” 
“that’s sweet of them. remind me to send them something later to thank them.” 
sukuna scoffs. 
“no need. they were more than happy to give it up for you.” 
“ah yes. i hear they’re big fans of this camping bag story. the scouts honor and the fake story we had to tell them makes a lot more sense now.” you respond. 
sukuna rolls his eyes. 
“okay, you know what? sue me. i was like sixteen sleeping next to a girl for the first time. god forbid i enjoyed myself. and i don’t know why they’re all so hyperfixated on that story because it was a very normal thing to assume when you’re asked that question.”  
you snort. 
“and you say you’re not a pervert…” 
sukuna leans forward, his eyes flitting down to his lips before he looks back up at you. and he can tell that you’re in a mood, that you’re trying to push his buttons by annoying him. 
“you know i despise you right?” he whispers. 
you grin, leaning in. 
“is that right?” you whisper back. 
“oh yeah. you irritate me.” 
there isn’t even a shred of earnestness in the words he’s uttering. you know he doesn’t mean them. 
“keep going.” you respond, as he presses a warm kiss to the side of your cheek. 
“you’re a nuisance.” – a kiss to your forehead. 
“an irritation.” – a kiss to the tip of your nose. 
“like a fucking thorn in my side.” – and a kiss to the sweet spot right in your neck and his hand snaking up your thigh, which makes you nearly keel your head back from the sensation. 
you place your hands on his cheek and pull him back, face flushed and his eyes nearly glazed over. 
“are you crazy?” you whisper. 
“what?” he asks. 
“we’re in public, dumbass. you can’t just start trying to rile me up.” 
sukuna leans back, obliging. 
“so you admit it? i was riling you up?” 
“oh, shut up.” 
you reach for the sandwiches and unpeel one for sukuna. before he takes it, he places a tiny white box in your lap. 
you frown. first the fancy date but the jewelry too? 
“sukuna. you didn’t–” 
“just open it. i’m impatient and i’ve been waiting all day. and i actually think you’ll like it. otherwise, you’re ungrateful and rude and you hate me.” sukuna responds. 
you give him a tight lipped smile before you open the little box and actually smile. 
it’s a dainty silver chain – the exact same as sukuna’s from the chain-links, but the build is a little thinner. and right at the center, a little charm of a star. 
you reach forward for his chain, dangling around his collarbone. and surely enough, in addition to the original charm he had of an interlocked circle, there’s a star charm added right next to it. 
“you always reach for it. when you’re talking or when we’re kissing. figured i’d get you your own since you’re such a big fan.” 
“you are so…” 
“perfect? sexy? the father of your children?” 
“i was thinking adorable. can i answer d for all of the above?” you respond. 
sukuna grins. 
“survey says yes, princess.” he responds. 
you yank the chain from the little box and hand it to him, before turning around for him to secure it on you. his fingers tickle against the nape of your neck, accompanied by a warm kiss, before he taps your shoulders to signify that he’s done. 
“you know. you really are perceiving me right now.” you respond. 
“and how’s that?” 
“i know you’re obsessed with me and pay attention to every word i say.” 
sukuna smiles. 
“obviously.” 
you jab at his side. 
“i mean, i know you’re doing this because i mentioned picnics yesterday and always feeling left out. sure you could put two and two together that he never really bought me any nice gifts or anything when i said he ruined my birthday.” 
“okay, captain obvious. and?” 
you shove him once more, before leaning your head against his shoulder. 
“well, i appreciate it. i know the whole…cutesy painting date isn’t your thing. we won’t have to do it again. and that you…you’re trying to make this whole thing special for me.” 
sukuna scoffs. 
“i’m offended. first and foremost, i always like to eat with you. every time i think that there’s no way you can amaze me more, you find another way to spill food on your clothes.” 
“hey! that’s not true.” 
“you already spilled on the blanket. second, this is a very violent way to eat cake. you literally mess up all the layers by doing that and destroy the piping on the cake which i can admit, i am a fan of. and third, i’m going to paint us as worms, which seems enjoyable to me.” 
you curl your nose. 
“worms?” 
“yeah. what were you going to paint?” 
“i don’t know. but it certainly wasn’t going to be worms. like the park or flowers or something.” 
“boring. i’m going to paint us as slimy worms. and because we made it on this date, you’ll have to agree to put it up in the apartment, even if it’s ugly.” 
“sukuna.” you whine. 
“especially if it’s ugly. it’s a testament to our love.” he responds, dramatically placing his hands on  his chest. 
“you know, you’re so right. worms have been a really defining feature of your relationship.” 
sukuna leans forward and presses a quick kiss to your lips and an additional one on your cheek. 
“you just get me, princess!” 
and he breaks the little joke by lifting one of your hands to his lips, and pressing a kiss on all four of your knuckles before pressing your hand to his cheek. 
“and i have to do special things for a special person.” 
you return the gesture, lifting his tattooed fingers to your lips and doing the same. 
“you know…you’re really good at this type of thing.” you murmur. 
“what do you mean?” 
“i mean, being a boyfriend. and…and being supportive about everything. sometimes i feel like i’m trying really hard to be the best but…just comes naturally to you.” you respond. 
sukuna shrugs. 
“don’t know if i’m perfect but…loving you has always come really easy to me. i don’t really have to think twice about it because these are actually just things i want to do for you.” 
you groan. 
“see! that’s what i’m saying! you always just…say sweet things, do sweet things. sometimes i’m convinced i’m not even half deserving of it, just because sometimes i don’t reciprocate that back.” you respond. 
sukuna leans forward. 
“you know, you actually do though.” 
“as if.” you groan. 
sukuna pauses, before leaning his cheek against the tops of his knees and looking out at the expanse of grass in front of you. you follow his line of vision – to the dog running in the distance, the wide, billowing trees, and the little flower truck on the side – which you now realize is where sukuna copped the flowers from earlier. 
“i mean, this type of thing. that we have, or…or the way i act around you. it means a lot to you because, you…you’ve never had this before. right?” 
“yeah.” 
“well, i haven’t had you before. i know you see me as perfect, but…but when you say that i can tell that you don’t mean it the way my mom or…or yuuji think that i’m perfect. in the untouchable way.” 
you lean forward, cupping the side of his face. 
“sukuna. you’re so touchable.” you joke. 
“you’re disgusting.” 
“you love it.” 
sukuna smiles. 
“yeah, i really do. it does actually mean the world to me that you think i’m perfect how i am and don’t think i’m larger than life.” 
“if anything, your ego could be smaller.” 
sukuna leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. 
“and…and even the other day. i know you were acting squirrely and weird when yuuji was near us and heard us bickering, but i was half convinced that you were going to take his side at the end, when he started saying that stuff about me. because it is true and i have acted a certain way in the past…and, you would have every right to agree with him if you wanted to.” 
you frown. 
“no, i wouldn’t. you’ve never treated me like that and i know you’re being earnest when you say these things to me. this would be a very elaborate way to get into my pants if that was what you were trying to do. and i know it’s not.” 
sukuna smiles. 
“that’s what i’m saying. every other person for me has never given me that benefit of the doubt, but you always do. you were the person who thought to tell me that my grandpa died when you all came to get me and you were the one who wasn’t mad at me. the things you do for me are the same, in equal magnitude, as what i do for you. if this makes you feel good, or…or on top of the world, you have to know that’s how you make me feel too. i’m half convinced that you’re basically made for me at this point the way you get everything right on point.” 
you lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his lips. 
“i really think you’re made for me too, ryomen.” 
sukuna groans, dramatically leaning his head back, before nearly pushing you over and peppering kisses to almost every surface on your face. 
“quit fucking saying my name. you have no idea what that does to me.” 
“i mean, i think i have an idea.” 
sukuna clamps his fingers over your mouth, before pressing a few more lingering kisses to your face and pushing off. and subsequently, picks all of the grass out of your hair as you roll your eyes. 
and after that sukuna, admittedly, very aggressively uses the wine glasses to portion off little slices of the cake and makes it a point to finish off yours when you can’t stomach the sweetness. and true to his promise – sukuna paints the two of you as worms, but at the park, stargazing. 
it’s a little silly, the way he paints it. you were expecting it to be more gory or gross, but it’s so corny that it makes you smile. because he draws the two little worms, but distinguishes between the two of you, by swiping some of your pink paint and adding a little ribbon to the one that’s supposed to be you. 
sukuna explains the stars. because before sukuna had dragged you out of that shitty bathroom bar, it’s what megumi and yuuji said in his drunken mess – he had pointed at two little stars and likened them to him and megumi.
and you’re almost positive that at the time, sukuna found it utterly ridiculous. but now, he understood it – the sentiment. that you and sukuna were two little worms, and two stars, and two little flowers too. 
and to his promise, the two of you decide to place the little canvases you drew at the end of the kitchen counter. 
it’s only then that you realize that you have to go the whole ten miles for sukuna the way he had done for you – countless times again. and that if you were going in blind in trying to make something special, you’d have to take a page out of his book and do some research. 
and there was only one person who could really help you, who you’d rather die than humble yourself to than ask for help. 
regardless of that, you still call sammy the next morning.
--
next part linked here
an: they're about to do it. anyways....there is a very real playlist to match the one that they talk about in the fic -- and it matches the way it described in the fic! so it's interleaved, the first song is a song that sukuna would have added, the second one that y/n added, the third sukuna, so on and so forth. it's linked here! happy listening babies
second an: thank you for the love on the last chapter. it makes my heart really warm bc all of that was actually based on a REAL MAN and real things that I have felt/have said to me and just having people comment that they felt seen by it or it made them feel a certain type of way actually made me really happy and so warm. this blog was one of the first things I did after I stopped being really, really sad and i'm glad that i'm able to share a little joy here and there, if that's what this fic is for you. anyways this is long and sappy and gross and actually I just love you all for enduring the ouchies and the sillies with me a little bit 💌
third an: double upload bc yall were so patient with me :D
taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani79 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology
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redr0sewrites · 7 months
Note
HI YEAH I AM BEGGING YOU TO ELABORATE ON THOSE TWO THINGS FROM THE SUB VOX HEADCANONS⁉️⁉️
RAHH OFC!!! IM ELABORATING ON THE DRY HUMPING HERE LMAO THE SOUNDING IS LINKED HERE FOR ALL OF YALL TO ENJOY AJSJ
🥀Cw: smut, sub!vox, dry humping, pillow humping, thigh riding, little bit of somno
🥀minors dni
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when it comes to dry humping, vox gets SOOO humiliated
he gen enjoys it more than actual sex, theres just something so achingly desperate about grinding against someone, too impatient to even take off your clothes
vox is soooo sensitive, but he would rather die (again) then admit that
he can't even sit on your lap without squirming, he just can't stay still, not with the "accidental" pressure you're applying to his already hard cock
he would probably try to subtly (not subtly) bring it up in a conversation once, he thinks hes soooo slick about it but in reality you can see right through his bravado
when you pull vox onto your lap to make out he audibly whines, his legs wrap perfectly around your waist and his hips r already squirming as you kiss him stupid
hes practically a bitch in heat when you both r grinding against eachother, after a long day all he wants is to he put in his place and fucked out of his mind, and loves battling for dominance while humping against you likes hes in heat
its pathetic really
sometimes he'll glitch out and truly be unable to stop himself, his mind is just so pathetically blank and fuzzy that he just can't help it, his body has a mind of its own as he ruts against you in a frenzy, small, plessurable sparks spreading across your skin
sometimes you'll come into his office while hes working and straddle him, he gets a hard on in seconds and can't help but buck his hips up against yours while he shields his face in shame
vox has a wild imagination, i mean, he has access to the entire internet at any given time, IMAGINE how filthy his wet dreams are
he def humps you in his sleep, whimpering your name and grinding down against you
he has the sweetest little unfiltered whines when hes sleeping, and more often than not will come in his pants just from rutting against you
vox def likes riding your thigh while working too, you can't help but tease him and start bouncing your knee as his claws dig into the desk, his mind going absolutely fuzzy from pleasure as he desperately tries to stay composed
he gets off on how humiliating and humbling the position is, the fact that one of hell's strongest overlords is grinding on his partner's thigh in a semi-public place where anyone could walk in? it only turns him on more
vox's preferred form of masturbation is humping something, you can't tell me otherwise
sometimes he'll be laying in bed, missing the warmth of your body, and he can already feel himself going painfully hard and horny. vox can't even get off on his own without you, its just so pathetic but his hand never feels like yours and no sex toy could imitate your perfect hole. so, vox opts for hugging the nearest pillow to his chest, slowly dragging it down to his crotch, not even bothering to remove his clothes as he drags his hips against the material. vox'll moan you name, the movements of his hips growing more sporadic as his head clouds over with pleasure until hes fully straddling the pillow, grinding down against it and panting as he cums in his pants. he's exhausted, yet he finds himself still impossibly hard, unable to stop desperately humping the pillow below him like a bitch in heat while thoughts of you swirl in his fuzzy mind.
he has the most delicious, fucked-out look on his face as he grinds deliriously for what feels like hours, until his body finally gives up and collapses, the pillow still clamped between his legs as he takes deep, shuddering breaths as his lust begins to calm down
what if i wrote a full fic about reader walking in on vox humping a pillow, and instead of helping him, forces him to continue and just gets off while watching him struggle.... haha.... jk.... unlesss....
in will prob make this into a scenario later heheee i love putting this man in situations
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the-moon-files · 13 days
Note
I’m not sure if I’ve said this one already or not, but I wanted to tell you anyways! It’s about the humans-are-not-hylians AU!
You know the uncanny valley evolution? That thing where when you look at something that resembles a living being too closely and some part of your mind is screaming that it’s not whatever it looks like and to get away from it? Imagine that with the reader! They can spot shapeshifters easily because of this, but it instills the same extreme primal fear we’d experience, so it might be hard for the reader to confront them at first and they’ll instead just tell the Chain for a while.
This might be a double edged sword, though, because when Twilight is in his wolf form, the reader still gets that same feeling when “Wolfie” is looking at them, whether or not they know it’s Twilight. In this case, the first time the reader spots Wolfie approaching the camp, they probably freak out and try to avoid him, even if the Links are okay with him or if he seems familiar to them.
The bottom line is that wolf isn’t a wolf, so what is he?
“It’s okay, he’s a really friendly wolf!”
“...That’s not a wolf...”
Sorry i took forever to respond!! im slow as always, life is too busy for even my hobbies lately sobs 😭
bro this is especially true bc someone looked back at TP games and how he looks in his “wolf” form, and apparently he is actually a dog lol - like at most a wolf-hybrid, i added this in to support this Hyrule-is-hella-Uncanny AU lol
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Moon: Guide! - Gender Neutral/Masc!Reader (”you”/he/him)
Orbit: Short headcanons
Stars: mentions of most of our Links <3
Comets & Meteors: CWs: typical LU/Loz violence, mild swearing, etc & TWs: mild possible derealization trigger, talk of Link’s Awakening and Koholint.
Please comment if I missed any. /gen
The Yiga clan members have never fooled you, not Once in person, unlike back when hyrule was still a video game
it was the constant smell of bananas, the way their eyes were always a little unfocused or they moved their head to move around their eyes, rather than their actual pupils moving, the facial muscles all stiff, usually stuck in an uncomfortable smile-
it makes more sense once u realize that they technically have a mask under that glamour hylian face, but its never not hilarious to see Wild look over his shoulder at you before approaching a lone traveler on the roads and watch him get increasingly frantic to get ur attention to see if theyre yiga lmao
u bet ur ass every link was relying on you on their adventures to know shapeshifters/illusions/glamours/etc. on sight and tell them to better prep them/warn them
tbh they all got at least a little better at being able to tell the difference the longer they heard you point out stuff/talk abt exactly why it was off-putting
(that said some of ur heroes are better at it than others, both in general, and certain aspects of it: like Twilight isn’t able to pick up illusions/glamours for the life of him, literally, sometimes, but he is more likely to figure out shapeshifters by scent after you Guided him)
(no, your heart didnt crack a little after learning that the boys had a harder time with deceit after you stopped playing the game = “were forced to leave after their adventure” bc while they were better at detecting it, they werent on ur human level yet..)
(…the only deception you ever really fell for was Koholint. It was so painful too, because Legend quietly disclosed to you one late night that you would constantly get strange feelings/uncanny disturbances, but were never able to put a name to it for him, which both made you jumpy/paranoid on the island, but made him regret ever letting his guard down all the more or feel guilty for what felt like dismissing ur instincts the more he relaxed… Legend never doubted your sense for the uncanny ever again. He takes it seriously every time now.
When you feel as if you should apologize, he tells u not to, that these days he takes comfort in it actually, it makes him feel safer. Legend looks to your face for confirmation that something isn’t a dream, and if you look at ease, so is he.)
its the way you casually laugh at Twi being called “Wolfie” when he’s obviously a wolf-dog hybrid or just a big dog
and when everyones confused u just explain smth smth, wolf heads are larger in comparison to their body, their legs are narrow, their paws are big, dogs are like the oppposite, or way more proportional like “Wolfie” is, dogs bob around when they run like “wolfie”, and have shorter legs,
smth smth wolves cant have eye colors like blue, only dogs/wolf-dog hybrids can silly-
and Wolfie is just like, 😐 😑 😐
turning around and walking away, bc hylias knotted fucking braid- he really cant escape the dog accusations now, you literally used ur freaky truth-seeing instinct and read his shapeshifter ass from head to literal toe/paw-
Wild/Hyrule look fascinated, Wind and Legend cant breath theyre laughing so hard, Time is coughing suspiciously into his fist and pops back up smirking, Four is laughing but also encouraging you to keep going, Sky is desperately trying to keep it together while also trying to get Twi to come back lmao, Wars is literally pointing and laughing ashkljdl-
ok but Twi gets his revenge later by tricking you into yapping abt how Hyrule/Four/Time all kind of look “off” sometimes too
like how u swear Rulie is glowing subtly when the moon is full, or how the world distorts behind his back sometimes,
or how Four’s eyes change colors all the time, his fighting style looks like its rotating between 4 diff ppl’s techniques,
or how Time’s face wrinkles like smile lines/crows feet at the corner of his eyes will randomly appear and disappear, how he’ll have some stubble one day then 3 days later despite having not shaven (u literally saw him wake up and do his morning routine) it’ll disappear like it was never there in the first place-
and when Twi has stopped asking you abt the others as they all reel over the knowledge of what all u can tell abt them,
(ur quietly relieved no one asked abt Wild.
You resolve urself to just lie if anyone asks, even to Wild himself.)
hey im alive!! im slow yknow how it is,
ive been doing too much, and i cant wait to be done with this class so i can have free time guilt free again 🥲
god thats one good thing abt getting out of academia i dont miss and would only wish on my worst enemy,
the anxiety of doing smth, even necessary stuff like eating/sleeping/showering, and feeling liek you should be doing homework instead, god its so awful
cant wait to feel like an adult with my own life again lmao
that certification better work and get me a white collar job goddamit 🤞
anyway, hope ur all having a good weekend,
and just to let u know, im so happy acc that im alive to see the first zelda game that actually follows what i originally thought the plot of zelda games was when i was a kid lmao
(zelda as the protag, saving link!!)
Peace out,
🌙
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pha55ed · 27 days
Text
Touch | F1/F2 (kimi bday celly!)
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type :: fluff tw/cw :: gn!reader for all, one gendered-term for carlos contains :: kimi!, oscar, carlos request :: heyy! can you do touch by katseye for carlos, oscar and kimi? or choose whatever 2 other drivers u want if you dont feel like writing for these, im mainly requesting for kimi lol. im really excited to read the new stuff, love ur writing 💕 (yes ofcc!! i love carlos and oscar sm <33 and thank you!! ur so sweet :D ) link to kimi bday celly!
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Kimi Antonelli | 04
Getting a crush wasn't on Kimi's 2024 bingo, instead it was on the list of the things that he didn't want. Focussing on racing has been what he's done all his life, he's barely had breaks or time to himself - so how the well would be able to have a girlfriend? He knew logically that a relationship would never work, and yet he couldn't stop the way his heart beat got faster around you.
As you came to the paddock once again, he wanted to scream. It was a internal fight that he could never win. On one hand, he was estatic to have you here to help cheer him on and watch him. It was going to push him 10 times harder to be better, to make sure to impress you. But on another hand, he was screaming because how he was shitting his pants and thinking of every bad outcome possible.
What if he crashes in the first minute and has to retire? What if he loses miserably and doesn't even have an excuse for why he sucked so bad that day? What if a different driver sees you and realizes how cute you are and tries to flirt with you, he's especially worried about Paul or Ollie finding you - he knew those two could pull anyone if they wanted.
He did his best to focus on the race, pulling off P7, not awful but not amazing. And god was he nervous, his hands were sweaty and forehead glossy from nerves. Before he could allow you to see him, he needed to freshen up in some way.
Rushing to his drivers room, trying his best to avoid anyone and everything so he can see you quickly. But when he walks into his drivers room, he's met with you looking at him whilst holding a little bouquet of flowers.
Suddenly his senses were all heightened. He could smell his sweat from his armpits, has he always smelt this bad? He could feel how loose his racing suit was on him, did he look too baggy? His breathing was still raggedy from racing, oh my gosh did his staggered breathing make him seem unfit?
And even worse, why did you look so perfect to him? God he hates this. It was like his entire plan for his future was crumbling all because some stupid person walked in and made his stomach flip. He was stuck there, frozen, staring at you with his mouth slightly open as he does his best to think of anything at all.
You confuse his silence with him not wanting you there, which even he didn't know if he wanted you in there or not. So you hand him the flowers, congratulating him on his placement as you left.
Long story short: he's awful with crushes. You WILL be the death of him.
Oscar Piastri | 81
Being nonchalant is basically his entire brand. That's why so many people freak out when they see him laugh or giggle, he's known as the next "Kimi Raikkonen" for a reason. So, when you begin to come to more races since you're the daughter of one of the head engineers at Mclaren, everyone notices how different Oscar is around you.
He usually just stands there,,, awkwardly,,, as if he's a Sim waiting for a command. But with you, he's suddenly fiddling with everything, doing his best to make sure he looks good. He constantly pushes his hair back, clearing his throat, making sure his shoulders are rolled back, you swear you even saw him MEW whilst you were busy talking...
This crush is noticed by everyone, the engineers, mechanics, lando, and even you. But there's one person who doesn't know: and that's Oscar himself. Somehow, he's fully gaslit himself into believing he's just nervous around you for other reasons.
He only pulls out your chair when you come to the group dinners because he's a gentleman. He keeps fixing his hair around you since it's windy, even if you're talking indoors. He can't stop staring at you because you stick out since you're the only girl in the Mclaren garage,,, even if you're not the only girl,,, there are like 10 other women who work in Mclaren.
But one day, Lando and Oscar are eating breakfast together before their free practice. That's when Lando boldly asks, "So have you made a move yet on (Y/N)?" Oscar replies with no, scoffing at his question as if Lando was asking something stupid. Lando has a small smirk from Oscar's reply. "So, can I shoot my shot?"
Instantly Oscar is confused, obviously no! But he's not sure why he wants to say no to Lando's desire to ask you out. Oscar literally tries to find every single reason as to why he doesn't want Lando to date you, even going as far to think he's possibly gay for Lando. He rules that out quickly though and connects the dots, he can't deny them anymore: he likes you.
From that point on, Oscar is an even bigger mess than he already is around you. He's already nervous, but now you swear you can see the buckets, yes plural, of sweat that he's making from even being in the same room as you. You know he likes you, everyone in the paddock as already told you, even Toto Wolff joined in,,, why is this grown man in some young adult romance...
Please, please, please, just confess your feelings to Oscar. He most likely won't get the guts to even THINK of asking you out for at least 4 months. And then he has to plan how he's gonna ask you out for another 2 months. And then he has to gather the courage to ask you out for another 4 months. And then... you get the point.
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Carlos Sainz | 55
Unlike the other two, Carlos is older and more experienced than them. But of course, he's still going to be a tad bit flustered when it comes to you. You're one of the new videographers for Drive to Survive. All videographers were assigned a driver to film, and you got Carlos. Which you were grateful for since he's always super respectful and also very easy to film, since he looks good in every angle.
Carlos usually hated being filmed for Drive to Survive, he thought they were super annoying. But he couldn't bring himself to dislike you, even when you accidentally hit him with your huge camera - he still found you so endearing. He couldn't help but try to shoot his shot at you.
Every time you came to film him, he made sure to drop not-so-subtle hints that he liked you. Like saying, "maybe I should film you, you're much more beautiful" which you obviously reply by saying how handsome Carlos is - which makes him smirk. You fell for his trap of calling him beautiful, but was it really a trap if you've been thinking it from the very first day?
Or how you always have to remind him to look into the camera when speaking, because his dark brown puppy eyes can't help but stare at you instead. Or when you almost trip since the camera gear is so heavy and Carlos catches you, saving you almost $10,000 in damages. Or when you went to the bathroom, leaving your camera on the table only to be met with a camera shoved in your face that was controlled by Carlos, to which he laughed and repeated yet again, "you're stunning".
As you two get to know each other more and more, he becomes much more forward with his flirting. Greeting you with an air-kiss, brushing your hair behind your ears, and even buying you multiple bouquets of flowers. You couldn't help but blush at all of his actions, but you knew you needed to stay professional still to avoid getting fired. Carlos knew that too, he would never want his favorite camera-woman to get fired.
So it's a constant tug of flirting with you and you being bashful in return. It's a painfully long wait till the season end so that Carlos can finally ask you out on a date, since there's no longer a contract forbidding you two.
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harrysfolklore · 11 months
Note
Can we get y/n as a total book worm and Harry just finding it so adorable, like no matter what she’s doing she always has a book in her hands. Cooking, has a book. Backstage, reading a book. At a cafe for breakfast, reading a book.
Ofc you don’t have tot do this idea, it’s just an idea
here it is !! one of my favorite tropes i’ve done coming to tumblr <3
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
coffeeandbookss - yn’s bookstagram
yourinstagram- yn’s personal insta
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coffeeandbookss Now reading: My policeman by Bethan Roberts ! In 1957, we meet Marion, a young woman hopelessly in love with Tom, her best friend’s brother. Tom — training to become a policeman — returns her affections, but holds a secret of his own. Will let you know my full review once done ! 💙
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bookfan1 just added it to my list !
bookfan2 i love everything you recommend
bookfan3 started it this week !
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liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 3,938 others
harryupdates Harry just followed this account on instagram !
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harryfan1 harry on his bookstagram era
harryfan2 AHH ONE OF MY FAVE BOOK CREATORS
harryfan3 she’s so pretty also
harryfan4 IM SUBSCRIBED TO HER YOUTUBE CHANNEL shes soooo good
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liked by yoursister, gemmastyles and 1,937 others
yourinstagram um harry styles follows mt bookstagram?? am i dreaming?
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yoursister YOU LUCKY BITCH
gemmastyles I’d love to think I’m responsible for that, I kept talking about your account 🫣
↳ yourinstagram love you gem thanks for your constant support 💓
username1 you’re the best out there
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liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 3,986 others
harryupdates Harry in London today ! He carried this book with himself
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harryfan1 he’s really in his books era
harryfan2 i started that book the other week omg
harryfan3 omw to buy it
harryfan4 my favorite booktuber just recommended this omg
DMS BETWEEN HARRY AND YN
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liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 4,937 others
harryupdates Harry having dinner tonight !
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harryfan1 OHHH
harryfan2 is that a DATE
harryfan3 boyfriendrry?
harryfan4 respect his privacy
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liked by harrystyles, gemmastyles and 10,872 others
yourinstagram happy days :)
view all 3,983 comments
harryfan1 um why did harry like?
gemmastyles my babies 🥹
↳ harryfan2 hello are we missing something
harrystyles ❤️
↳ harryfan2 HELLO?
harryfan4 i’m so confused right now
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tmz_tv Seems like Harry Styles got a new girl. More of his beach outing at the link in our bio 👀
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harryfan1 wtffff
harryfan2 WHO IS THAT
harryfan3 man i hate tmz
harryfan4 FIND OUT WHO THE GIRL IS RIGHT NOW
↳ harryfan1 i think their privacy was disturbed enough already
↳ harryfan2 yeah we’re shouldn’t snoop around trying to dig personal information of whoever the girl with him is
harryfan6 sucks as hell that they took these without their consent but i can’t help but be all 🥲🥲 over the fact that they’re reading together
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theharrytea okay yall so i was watching yn’s latest video because of all the rumors going around her and harry (yk he followed her and commented on her posts and harry has been seen with someone we don’t know yet) AND i swear to god i heard his voice around min 7 😭 you could clearly hear that someone opens the door and a faint “sorry” I KNOW MY MAN’S VOICE AND THAT WAS HIS
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harryfan1 OH
harryfan2 omfg i can hear it now
harryfan3 y’all are tripping at this point
harryfan4 delulu
harryfan5 idk if any of this is true but they would make a cute couple like they would ready to each other and stuff :(
YN VIA INSTAGRAM STORIES
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coffeeandbookss This week’s recommendation is presented by my brand new reading partner ! Love is a Mixtape is a soulful book, written as a way of understanding not only love and loss, but also the way music is can get us through those happy or sad times ! Full review this weekend 🤍
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bookfan1 IS THAT HARRY STYLES ??
annetwist ❤️❤️
harryfan1 HARRYYYYY
harryfan2 THEY ARE SOOO DATING
harrystyles It is my pleasure to be featured x
↳ harryfan3 OMFG THEY FR ARE DATING
gemmastyles 🥹
harryfan4 I MEAN we kinda already knew it was her who has seen kissing harry BUT I LOVE THIS HARD LAUNCH
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liked by yourinstagram, gemmastyles and 6,837,927 others
harrystyles She’s got a book for every situation x
view all 96,836 comments
harryfan1 AHHH IS THIS YN
jefezoff 🙌🏻🙌🏻
harryfan2 LOVE ME A HARD LAUNCH
gemmastyles ❤️
harryfan3 harry is not single anymore omfg
yourinstagram 🥹💓
harryfan4 COUPLE OF THE YEAR
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harryismysun Worth the shot
view all 3,097 comments
harryfan1 PLEASEEEEE
harryfan2 you're so funny
harryfan3 i love this fandom
yourinstagram 😂😂 I can confirm this is how it all went down
↳ harryfan1 I LOVE HER
↳ harryfan2 she's the best
taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin n @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe @drewrry
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rqbossman · 2 months
Note
I found out about tma from my friend because he asked me to make an edit of michael distortion and got into it a few months later. I LOVE TMA. I mostly listened to the whole thing three times when I was mostly offline because I have the 200 episodes downloaded on YouTube and now I'm finding out that there's some stuff I missed, there's bloopers, q&a and I was in the wiki because i wanted to see how many times the admiral was mentioned and theres one what the ghost episode? IM GOING INSANE. I love tma. I think it's rotting my brain... it's everywhere, it's in my veins. I need to know everything but when I try to search these things up on YouTube it only shows me rusty quill gaming which I will be watching later but where do I find the other stuff where is the best place to listen to tma and find every extra lore even if it's just the tiniest squeeze of lore? I need to know y'all really did an amazing job with tma, I don't think I'm ever going to get tired of listening to it. I need to relisten to it before hell— I mean... School starts again. Lord save us for another year of merciless torture. Also I was trying to type this fast and forgot to say hi. hi Mr Alex, I hope you're having an amazing day/night when you see this. I promise to listen to all the podcasts rusty quill has after I learn every little squeeze of tma lore. Where is the best place to listen to and learn every little squeeze of information of all of rusty quill podcasts? (I absolutely did not install Tumblr just to ask this what do you mean 😓😓😓)
Lovely to hear from you and thankyou for the kind words. To list good locations for TMA Lore: 1) The podcast feed is obviously first port of call and includes some bonus materials between seasons 2) Our Patreon has an absolutely enormous amount of content in there now and I believe it should at this point be organised into collections so you can just look up TMA and it's all there for you (although that is behind a paywall) 2) Any video QNA's/events etc. not included in the main feed should be on our twitch channel. 3) Rustyquill.com has various links dotted around that have snippets too 4) The fan wiki is a very strong resource. Like any wiki there is the odd error here or there but for the most part its astonishingly accurate and detailed. 5) Special mention to whoever keeps our TV Tropes pages up to date. It was when I saw a proper entry for The Magnus Archives on that site that I actually started to call myself a "proper" writer.
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lincolndjarin · 10 months
Text
Best Kept Secret
chapter twenty eight : a place for us
ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ☆ main masterlist ✧
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pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader
rating : 18+ mdni
word count : 8.4k
summary : the not so secret happily ever after.
warnings: language, fluff, mild angst, pregnancy, smut, din has a lot of insecurities, they're having a couple of problems but the biggest one is lack of communication, breeding kink, pregnancy sex, oral f!recieving, p in v sex, masturbation, creampie, come eating, din comes really fast but it's sweet, nongraphic childbirth, domestic bliss, ro making things up about star wars lore
a/n: this is it my loves, i truly hope that this is the ending people wanted. i'm extremely happy with it and i'm extremely emotional so im gonna go sit down lmao.
You’d spent the better half of the day trying to get on top of him. 
Every time you managed to get close he’d simply set you down on the nearest surface with a kiss on the cheek and go back to doing whatever he was working on. 
You haven’t had sex. 
Not since everything happened. 
You’ve tried, a few times but it never seemed right, you always asked if you could stop, opting to just lay together instead. You were making yourself sick with worry that he was unsatisfied so you took a day off from the meetings and the royal duties to just stay in the cabin and watch him work. 
You just want to do something nice for him. 
He does everything. 
He cooks your meals, he rubs your feet, he spends his entire day working, he’s nearly tripling the cabin in size, and he does it all on one leg. 
Well, not technically on one leg, he has the prosthetic but still. He hobbles with no complaints around the house and all you do is sit all day in the castle, talking. 
So you try. All day. 
Until the two of you are getting ready for bed.  
“Come on. Seriously, I'm fine.” You put your hands on his shoulders as he got into bed beside you. 
“Stop trying to seduce me.” He kisses your temple, rolling you onto your side as he fills in the space behind you. “You don’t need to force it.” He lifts his bottom half onto the bed, carefully removing the steel leg, setting it onto the floor next to him. One of the only pieces of his Mandalorian days he chose to keep. He had all of his armor melted down, save for his helmet, some of it was forged into a new leg, but the majority was given to the foundlings. 
“I’m serious! I’m in the mood.” You aren’t and he knows it, so any efforts to roll over and face him are stopped as he wraps his arms around you, one hand resting protectively over your stomach. 
“You’re not.” 
“I’m desperate for it.” You whine loudly but he only laughs, his nose bumping against the back of your neck. 
“Go to sleep.” You can hear the grin in his voice. 
You wait a moment in the silence.
“Are you sure?” You start trying to turn again. 
“I swear to the Maker-”
“Okay! Sorry!” 
Maybe it was hormones, or maybe it was just everything that had happened. But during your first trimester no matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t seem to find the energy to be physical with him. It was as if your libido vanished entirely. You tried several times but he always just kissed your forehead and told you to relax. 
“You’ve given me everything I have ever wanted, I need nothing else from you.” He laughs against your spine as he kisses you there. 
“You’re sure?” 
“What do I have to do to prove to you that I’m fine?” 
“Let me take care of you…” You whine, trying to push back against him as he holds you in place.
“Stop worrying about me.” He continues to chuckle, hot against your skin as he kisses your cheek before pulling the quilt up over you both, it only takes a few minutes for him to start snoring behind you. 
You want to completely disassemble the monarchy.
Din wants you to be as relaxed as possible during your pregnancy. 
Neither one of you has been getting what you want. Turns out being queen doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want, there are limits, limits that have you arguing with your dearly departed husband's family most days. 
You spend the better part of the next month in and out of the throne room, looking down at the table Kodo’s family set up below the throne. You argue over everything, you want to destroy everything that they stand for and obviously they don’t agree. 
So you have to compromise. 
At the end of the day it ends up being better than nothing. 
The royal family no longer has any political power over Naboo citizens, but they get to keep their titles, including your own. They’re ceremonial now. 
The royal family can no longer collect taxes from the people but they get to keep all their funds currently in the vaults. 
The people get to vote in new leaders but the royal family gets to have automatic representation on the council. 
It’s a give and take but when you finally get a chance to walk through the city with Din the people look happy and you can’t help but feel a rush of pride at the little changes. The little smiles you see every now and then, the way people stop to talk to each other, the way people look at you. 
It’s different.
It’s happier, it feels safer. 
It makes spending your first trimester with the Harand’s completely worth it. 
And it’s a good thing you came to an agreement and got everything sorted out when you did because you don’t want to get out of bed most days during your second trimester. 
You feel great, no more nausea and your energies even up. 
You’re just so kriffing horny. 
Morning, noon, and night. 
Din’s finished the added rooms in the cabin so you’re both tasked with getting everything in order in your own room and in the nursery but you don’t let him get much done. 
If you had any worries about leaving him unsatisfied those first few months they’re gone after the first week of your second trimester, you’re more than making up for it. You’re actually worried about him keeping up with you. 
Of course having a bed you love helps. It was the first thing Din made when he started working on the cabin. A bed that wasn’t too big but fit you both perfectly, and you make sure to put it to good use. 
It came on suddenly in the last week of your first trimester. 
You had woken up early one morning craving something you hadn’t wanted in quite some time. So you rolled over, tracing a finger along his bare chest until his eyes fluttered open, his breath hitching as he gave you a sleepy smile. 
“Morning.” His voice in the mornings always reminded you of how he used to sound through the modulator, low and raspy. 
“Good morning.” You whispered back, letting your hand drag down his stomach until he stopped you, kissing your forehead, you shuffled towards him, feeling his cock hardening against your hip. You furrow your brow in confusion as he starts getting up. “Is something wrong?”
“You don’t need to force it for my sake.” You know he isn’t upset, he’s never voiced concerns about your sex life but he’s convinced himself that you just don’t have a sex drive right now. When in reality you’ve woken up almost painfully needy. 
“Din-“ You start, reaching towards him. 
“Sarad.” He took your hand in his as he situated his leg. 
“Do you still want me?” You won’t be upset if he says no, after all you haven’t wanted him very much recently. 
“Always. But I’m not gonna let you pretend for my sake. Your hormones are different now, maybe after the baby is born you’ll feel a little different, if not, I’ll still be sleeping here next to you every single night. Nothing’s gonna change that.” 
“But-“
“I’m gonna take a shower.” He kissed your hand and left the room, leaving you hot between your thighs and suddenly worried that he’d never believe you were ready. 
You had brushed him off and been clearly uncomfortable often enough now that he had resigned himself to making no more attempts. 
He took a lot of showers. 
And you could pretend you didn’t hear him groaning your name through the door but it still sent a pang of guilt through you that no amount of reassurance could change. 
You hear the water turn on as you lay back in bed with a frustrated sigh. 
You have the galaxy's most devoted husband, you could tell him you never wanted to touch him again and he’d never ask why. He’d simply love you from a little further away, and you love him with all of your heart for that but in that moment you just wanted to be fucked. 
So you rolled over and stuck your hand in your nightstand drawer, searching for the cold metal of the vibrator you’d bought ages ago. When you finally found it you experimentally tested the buttons, grinning when you realized it still worked. You set up some pillows against the headboard to lean against them, bending your legs at the knee as you reach under your nightgown, finding your thighs sticky, your panties doing nothing to contain the arousal coursing through you. 
For a second you’re worried you’ve forgotten how to do it but the moment you switch on the toy it’s like riding a bike. The motions, the patterns, all of it comes rushing back and in just a few shakey breathes you're already on edge. 
You can hear him over the buzzing, you hear a few thuds, closing your eyes you imagine him on the other side of the wall. 
Without his helmet.
You haven’t been able to think about him like that since he abandoned his creed, now it’s all you can think about. 
His hand up against the tile, steadying him. The other wrapped around that pretty cock of his. You turn up the vibrator as you picture the water cascading down his skin, making his curls straighten out as he pulls back his foreskin, his pretty pink tip’s probably leaking down his shaft. 
“Din-” You whisper to yourself, focusing on the grunt you can hear faintly followed by the strained sound of your name. Your stomach tightens. His eyes are probably squeezed tightly shut, creasing in the corners as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. “Din, please.”
“Kriff.” He hisses out loud enough for you to hear clear as day. 
You hear him stifle a moan, is he biting his own hand? You decide it’s for the best that you do that now as well, covering your mouth with your palm. You chase the tightening in your stomach, dipping the toy into the wetness pooling at your entrance and back up to your clit. You’re so focused on getting off that it barely even registers when the water turns off in the other room.
“Fuck-” You whine softly, turning it up one more setting.
You open your eyes when the door creaks open, Din stepping back into the bedroom with a towel held loosely around his waist. You squeeze your thighs together, your eyes watering as a gasp is forced out of your stomach, your body convulsing briefly. 
Maker, you’re more pent up than you thought. 
You wet your lips with your tongue as his grip on the towel tightens, his eyes go wider than you’ve ever seen them and he coughs. 
“M’gonna go make breakfast.” He manages to mumble out as the tips of his ears burn up, he gets dressed rather hastily before rushing out of the room.
When you go to the dresser to find something to wear you pick something that rides up on your stomach. You don’t really have a bump yet, Din insists that he can tell, often kissing you just above your belly button when he does but you don’t really notice a difference. 
You meander out into the kitchen, already having to yank down the front of your top. 
Maker, maybe you are showing. 
You innocently look through the conservator as he sets the table, frowning as he pouts himself a mug of caf. You’ve been wanting some for weeks but he won’t let you have so much as a sip. 
“I think I’m gonna make some cinnamon rolls tonight.” You sit down at the table as he sets a plate of buttered bread with meat and eggs. 
“That sounds lovely.” He kisses the top of your head, bringing you a glass of juice and a few vitamins before sitting beside you. “Do you need me to go into the city and get anything for you?”
“No, I think I’ve got everything I need. What are you doing today?” 
“House work. I need to fix a few things and install the heaters, it’s gonna be cold when the baby gets here.” You’re rather excited for winter, you haven’t seen snow since you left Hoth. It’s already started to chill outside. Naboo has long autumns and you aren’t due until the winter. 
“Do you need any help with that?” You ask as you take a bite of the rich dense bread, already knowing the answer. 
“No, you just relax today.”  Ever since you finished all your royal business Din hasn’t let you do any work around the house. 
“I got that package from Elaine a few days ago, I could finally unpack everything.” You nod towards the crate in the living room and he’s already shaking his head. 
“I can do that when I finish up the heat-“
“I can’t just sit around all day everyday.” You point your fork at him as he gives you an apologetic look. 
“You could if you wanted to.” He says hopefully before you flick a piece of sausage at him. He easily catches it out of the air, popping it into his mouth. 
“Oh and we should have sex tonight.” You try to say it as casually as possible but he immediately chokes on his food, coughing briefly before clearing his throat and taking a sip from his mug. 
“Mesh’la, how many times do I have to tell you not to worry about that.” 
“It’s not for your sake, it’s for mine.” You’re not even halfway done with your breakfast as he takes his last bite. Quickly standing and rushing his dishes to the sink. 
“We’ll talk about it later, I gotta get started on some stuff.” He’s walking around you carefully, avoiding your angry glare as he makes a hasty escape towards the third bedroom. 
“If you don’t listen to me I’m not letting you pick the middle name!” You yell after him but all you get in return is a muffled chuckle. 
You finish your breakfast, taking your time as you chew, feeling rather frustrated despite the orgasm you already gave yourself less than an hour ago. 
The third room is currently your makeshift laundry room, you keep anything that doesn’t have a proper place in there. Currently Din is fixing the window in there so you take it upon yourself to do a load of laundry. You empty the washer, filling it again as you turn on both machines. 
“Mind if I watch you for a bit?” You smile at him as he nods, wiping a bead of sweat from his hairline. You take the opportunity to hop up on the dryer when he turns back to his work. 
You close your eyes, letting your head roll to the side a bit as you lean forward. You smile to yourself, a wave of deja vu washes over you as you think of everytime you’ve teased him prior. You get lost in the memory of the two of you in the library, you briefly forget your goal entirely as you rock yourself back and forth, humming softly to yourself. 
Your thoughts eventually drift to how he had touched you that night and when you finally come to your senses your face is hot as your fingers grip your thighs. When you look at din he’s staring at you slack jawed.
He clears his throat, his face going red as he quickly goes back to work, finishing up quickly before getting ready to leave. 
“Help me down?” You hold your arms out to him and you swear he gulps as he steps over the laundry basket to grab you under your arms, setting you down. 
“All good?” His voice is strained as he watches you nod. 
“Perfect.” 
Except it isn’t perfect. 
The bastard remained unconvinced. 
And you remain frustrated out of your mind. 
He takes a break after installing the heating system, when he sits on the sofa, sipping a glass of water you take it upon yourself to finally go through the baby clothes Elaine sent you. The large crate is marked with a calligraphed L&E. You carefully break open the top, opening the envelope placed on top of the many fabrics. You can’t help but smile when you see who it’s addressed to. 
Princess,
Is it still princess? ‘Queen’ seems like a bit much, although you should have seen the High Magistrates' face when we told him the Mandalorian married royalty. 
He wants to visit when the little one is born but unfortunately we won’t be joining him. Elaine’s a bit sensitive to the cold but we’ll see you when it warms up. She’s terribly excited to be a godmother, even if she doesn’t show it. When Din told her the sex she started sewing immediately. Took two weeks for her to make all this, you can expect more soon. She can’t seem to help herself, our house is full of tiny socks and hats. 
The shop’s doing well. Karga alone buys enough clothes to keep us in business but things are good. I still don’t know how Elaine sews as much as she does or as well as she does but she hasn’t slowed down since we moved. 
She misses you, even if she acts all tough about it. I miss you too, we’ll visit as soon as it’s spring. 
Send pictures of the nursery when it’s finished. 
Love, Lysa 
You look down at the contents and are taken aback at the sheer amount of baby clothes you’re faced with. You grab the first thing that catches your eye, little green overalls. 
“Oh my gods.” You hold them up for him to see. Din’s gaze goes soft as he stares at the fabric. He slides off the sofa to sit on the floor beside you, taking them as you begin looking through the rest of the clothes. 
“Are you sure he’s gonna fit in these? They look small.” He holds the overalls in front of his face as you fish out a handful of striped socks. 
“That’s how big newborns are, my love. He’s gonna be small.” You unfold a large patchwork quilt, marveling at the craftsman ship as Din gives you a skeptical look. 
“These are just so… tiny.” You laugh a bit at the sudden anxiety in his voice. 
“I thought Grogu was a baby? You should know how small babies are, how old was he when you found him?”
“Fifty.” You shove his arm. 
“Funny.” You stop laughing the second you find a little gray hat with black yarn patterns. “Maker, you’re gonna die when you see this.” You flip it around in your hands, showing him the mock design of his helmet, the thin cross of his visor. 
“No kriffing way.” He takes it from you as you fight off a grin. 
When you’ve finished going through everything Din packs it all back up, taking it to the nursery as you bake, simultaneously trying to think of different ways to seduce your riduur. 
You shoo him away when he tries to help, eventually he settles on sitting on the couch. Reading from where he can see you. 
You’re strongly considering just getting “stuck” in the washer and calling him to help you, you’re pretty sure you saw that in a holo at one point. 
By the time you finish baking you still have nothing, taking them out of the oven and icing them before placing one on a plate and making your way over to him. You pull yourself up into his lap, gently taking his book and setting it down beside you. 
“Mesh’la.” He says in a stern tone, his voice wavers a bit as he struggles to keep his composure. 
“I thought you like my baking?” You pout and somehow he falls for it. 
Pregnancy has made him even more infatuated with you, if that’s even possible. He’s somehow more gentle with you than ever before. 
“Of course I do.” He mumbles sweetly, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. You tear off a chunk of the pastry, something you’ve done before, and bring it to his lips.
“Open.” You say sternly and he immediately does, letting you feed him. If it’s possible for a man to be both extremely relaxed and extremely stressed out then that’s what Din currently is. 
You stay in his lap.
Feeding him until the plate is empty, he even licks your fingers clean and you’re so mesmerized by the plush softness of his mouth that you can’t help yourself.
You fall forward into him, and he flinches. 
He never flinches. 
You immediately back up, crawling off his lap as you give him a look of concern, trying to figure out if you’ve hurt him. 
“I’m- I’m sorry.” He swallows, avoiding eye contact. 
“Don’t be sorry.” You whisper it, leaning forward, resting your head on his shoulder, he takes your hand in yours. 
“I just- I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this for me.” 
“Why are you so insistent that I don’t want you?” You finally just tear the band aid off. 
Silence.
Briefly, you know he’s deciding if he should say it or not. 
“You stopped wanting to have sex when I took the helmet off.” He blurts out and you nearly fall off the couch at the absurdity of his reasoning. 
“Din that has noth-“
“And it’s fine. There’s no reason for you to pretend to be attracted to me just for the sake of my ego. You can love me without loving,” He gestures at himself. “this.”
It makes you want to cry. 
To think that he thought you were withholding your affections because you didn’t like how he looked. It makes you even more upset to know that he was okay with that, he was willing to live a life believing that to be true and simply never touch you like that again. 
“Look, I still have the helmet, we’re going to make this work.” He whispers. His leg bounces up and down until he suddenly stands. “Give me a minute?” He’s already headed for the door. You sit there, a little stunned.
You decide to give him space, you can talk when he comes to bed. You dress in a thin brown camisole and green panties, you try to make yourself look nice, hoping maybe he’ll relax at the sight of it but based on the look he gives you when he comes into the bedroom you’re a little worried it’s having the opposite effect. 
“I love you and-” You start but he just collapses into bed next to you.
“Please- mesh’la I can’t, this torment is unbearable.” His hands clutch the fabric of your clothes, his fingers trembling. “You’re making this extremely difficult for me.” He’s downright flushed as he pleads with you. 
“I won’t stop until you believe me.” You insist further as he sinks his eyes into you, his pupils swollen and frantically searching your face as he swallows loudly. “You couldn’t be more beautiful to me. It had nothing to do with you, I just- I needed a little time after everything.” You whisper sharply, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time. “I’ve been waiting to wake up. I keep thinking you’re gonna disappear and I’m going to lose you all over again and none of that is your fault.” The room is quiet aside from your combined breathing. 
“Are you sure? Really sure?” He’s speaking so quietly you barely hear him as his fingertips ghost the exposed skin under the bunched up fabric of your top. 
“Look, I’m not going to force you to touch me, but I don’t know how else to get my point across and if you really want me to stop all of this then I will-“
“Don’t stop.” He whispers, barely audibly as his hands hold your face, lips pressed to yours. Your head falls back into the pillows as his mouth immediately makes a beeline south, kissing your sternum, you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him back up. “Please- I wanna taste-” He downright whines as you pull his bottom lip between your teeth.
“After.” You pant into his mouth. “I can’t wait, I need you.” 
You do, terribly. 
You guide his hand between your legs and his fingers push your panties to the side in an instant, his mouth falls open in a silent moan as he feels the wetness there. He eases a finger into you as you whine impatiently. “I don’t wanna wait-” You reach down to grab at his wrist but he just kisses you again to silence you.
“I don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbles, he listens to an extent, pushing in a second finger. The stretch is delicious. You feel like your skin is on fire as you try to push yourself further onto his hand. 
“I don’t care, please Din I need you so bad. I need your cock.” Your brain is foggy, you're so turned on right now, you’d do anything to feel him inside you. 
He nods, shoving his trousers down and pulling his shirt up over his head as you squirm out of your own clothing. Almost immediately he looks overwhelmed, his eyes don’t know where to settle as they make their way down your body. Finally he swallows, taking his cock in hand, tip pink and pretty as he strokes himself so you can see how he’s already leaking, just for you. 
He eases himself into you, slow and steady as you try to stay still. It’s all too much, his thick length pressing deeper and deeper into you until you’re both gasping, forehead to forehead with him fully seated within your heat. 
“Okay?” He manages to spit the words out despite the way his chest heaves as you nod. 
“Din fuck me please I can take it.” You plead with him, he looks skeptical so you rock your own hips, it isn’t much but it’s enough to make your eyes roll back as you nudge him deeper. 
“Look at me.” He whispers as you blink, trying to focus on the warmth in his eyes as he searches your expression for pain. 
“You’re so pretty.” You mumble out. He looks a little surprised by the sentiment, his tongue poking out between his lips as he looks at you. 
Has anyone ever told him that? 
“Thank you.” Is the last thing he says before slamming his hips forwards, the head of his cock bumping against your cervix. His thrusts are erratic and needy as he watches your face intently. He’s so worked up and it’s been so long and the combination of it all has him practically whimpering against you within minutes.
“I can’t- I- It-” He begins to stammer, his lips are wet and swollen, his eyes fight to stay open, pupils darting everywhere like he’s trying to take in as much as he possibly can as his cock pulses inside you. 
You want him to come. You want to watch him, watch his face, as he finishes. You want to see him hot and desperate just for you, you want to know that you made him feel this good after just a few minutes. 
“I wanna see, please, please Din.” You lay back, gasping with every stutter of his hips, taking in the sight as he squeezes his eyes shut. 
“I- I- kriff, love you so much.” He hisses out as his hands fist the sheets. The veins in his neck stick out as his mouth falls open, an obscene moan is ripped from him as he rocks his hips forward one last time, you can see where the two of you are connected. His cum spilling out around his length, forced out by the sheer girth of him. His breathing is staggered as he slumps forward, kissing you with a fire that you didn’t realize you missed so much.
He doesn’t kiss you nearly as much as you want before his mouth is already moving down your body, any complaints you have never make it past your lips. It feels too good when he touches you like this.
He squishes the bridge of his nose into your stomach, just below your belly button as he kisses the soft skin there. His mouth hasn’t even made its way between your legs yet and he’s moaning into your flesh, his fingers kneading the meat of your hips. 
He pushes your thighs wider apart and you swear you see him drool at the view he’s presented with. 
He looks up at you, his eyes wide and needy, waiting for permission. You nod a little too quickly and he dives into you. His tongue immediately works its way into your still dripping hole, he’s everywhere, precise and deliberate as he pushes his own seed back into you. 
“So- fucking- good-” He mumbles to himself as if you aren’t even there before flattening his tongue against your clit, it’s enough to have your thighs closing around his head, the cool metal of his hearing aids stings your flesh as you come undone. Your vision goes white as you whine, high pitched and breathy. 
He doesn’t stop for a second, eating like you’re a goddamn buffet. When you catch a glimpse of his face his jaw is slick with a combination of the two of you. His eyes are dark as your head falls back, you want so desperately to watch but it’s too much, all you can do is whimper and grip his hair. 
He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves until you’re coming all over again. You collapse back into the pillows, already exhausted but smiling so hard your face hurts. He sits back on his ankles, lifting your legs as he kisses your calves. 
He’s perfect like this. 
Tan, scarred body on display to you in the warm lamp light. Skin covered in a thin layer of sweat that makes his hair curl and stick to his forehead. His eyes are dark as his tongue pokes out, swiping across his lips to taste the remnants of you, his cock stands proud against his stomach, already hard and aching for you once more. 
“Don’t relax just yet, I’m not done with you.” He mumbles into your tender flesh, hands grabbing your ankles as he yanks you forward, slotting himself between your legs again. 
It’s a good thing because you certainly aren’t done with him, you can’t get enough of him for the next six months. 
Further into your second trimester nothing’s changed. If anything you’re even more insatiable. If it was possible to get pregnant twice you’d have done it by now. 
You also make a point to kiss his face as much as humanly possible, you can’t help but wonder if anyone else ever has.
He likes it in a way you aren’t yet familiar with, he leans into your lips at every opportunity, eager to feel your mouth against the apples of his cheeks, the sensitive skin of his eyelids, the sharp angle of his nose, and the prickles of the stubble on his chin. 
And you are more than happy to indulge him. 
The third trimester wasn’t much better but you managed to better manage your time. You went on walks, even if they were short, you’d insist on walking around the gardens or the markets whenever you could. 
You didn’t think it was possible but somehow Din’s become even more protective. If he had things his way you’d sit in the cabin all day while he stared at you from a few inches to your left. 
With that sharp protectiveness has come a silence, it takes a few days for you to notice but you realize just how quiet he’s been. It’s subtle but you know something's off. Word’s become soft arm touches, he holds you a little tighter at night and he never asks if you need help anymore, he just does everything before you can even get to it. 
It’s seemingly a couple of things. 
You know something is bothering him but he’s become sort of shy. 
When you walk the markets he’s still viewed as a member of your staff but you don’t hide things anymore. You’ll feed him by hand if you buy a snack cake, you’ll hold his arm as you walk. He’ll even kiss your forehead if the opportunity arises.   
But he’s timid. 
And it isn’t until you’re visiting Vivian that you realize what it is. You had been telling her about how hard it’s been for you to decide on a shade of green for the nursery when he had hidden his face in your hair. You had entangled your fingers in his and thought of it as nothing more than an act of affection from him but it started happening more often. 
And then it clicked.
He only ever did it after being directly addressed, when people were looking at him. You finally brought it up one night when you’d been trying to get comfortable on the couch, your protruding stomach making it exceedingly difficult. 
You’ve got two talking points to cover, the sudden shyness, and getting to the bottom of his silence, although you’ve got a sneaking suspicion as to what it’s about. 
You eventually settled with your head in his lap and your feet up on the arm rest, smiling up at him as he played with your hair. 
“You know you can wear the helmet when we go out if you want.” You finally blurt out as he gives you a confused look. 
“Why would I do that?” 
“Well I know that you still have it and you just seem a little… uncomfortable sometimes without it.”
“I thought you liked my face?” He says it with a teasing tone but it has you sitting up out of the position you struggled to find for so long.
“I love your face. But I also want you to be comfortable.” You press a long kiss into the coarse facial hair of his jaw, he’s been so busy with house work and you it’s gotten longer than you’ve ever seen or felt it. 
“I’m comfortable with you.” He turns his face, nudging his nose against your lips until you kiss him there as well. 
“I just noticed that you’ve been a little tense, especially during outings.” You tilt your head, giving him a lopsided smile as he stands, leaning down to cradle your face in his hands. 
“I’m just not used to it, cyare.” He stands, examining the space in the room. “I want to put a fireplace in before the baby comes.” He mumbles as he moves the loveseat, making space against the wall.
You seize the opportunity, might as well kill two birds with one stone. 
“Speaking of when the baby comes, I thought we were going to visit your little one at some point?” 
His shoulders stiffen up for just a moment before he shrugs.
“I guess I’ve just had other things on my mind, nerves about the baby.” He doesn’t look at you, instead he measures the space on the wall with his hands. 
“I thought you were excited to be a dad?”
“I am a dad, and I am excited.” He’s mumbling, he hasn’t talked about Grogu in ages and it’s making you worry. 
“You’ve been quiet.”
“I’m always quiet.”
“Not with me.” 
He turns and stares at you for a moment before clearing his throat. 
“I’m scared.” He sits back down beside you and you wrap your arms around him as best you can with your bump in the way.
“Of what?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I’m scared that the baby won’t like me, or that I’ll mess them up, or something like that.” It is so much easier to tell when he’s lying, now that you can see his face. You never would have thought his cheeks would get so rosy. 
He’s a natural with kids and he’s been more excited than you are for the baby, he even spends all his free time embroidering the baby’s name into their clothes. 
“Din.” You say sternly, pulling back to look at him.
He chews the inside of his cheek a bit. 
He whispers something but he’s so quiet you can’t hear him.
“Din, please.” You take his head in your hands and force him to look at you. 
“I’m scared that if we go to get Grogu he won’t want to come home with us.”
A pang of sorrow hits your heart. 
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“Maybe he’s happy there, maybe he’s forgotten all about me.” He looks hurt in a way you’ve never seen him before, if you weren’t days away from your due date you’d get on a ship and take him to his boy right now. 
“He hasn’t forgotten about you.” You take his hand. 
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you. And I know that I’d never forget you.” He still looks unsure as you stare into those sad eyes of his. “We have to at least try, it would be better to know. This baby already loves you, that’s enough of an indicator to me that Grogu feels the same.”
“You have no proof that this baby already loves me.” He finally cracks a smile at what you’re implying.
“Come here.” You lay your head back down in his lap, making a second desperate attempt to get comfortable. You grab his hand, lifting the fabric of your top until your stomach is exposed, placing his large palm over the swell of your belly. “Talk to him.” 
“What am I supposed to say?” He’s looking at you like you’re insane but you just shrug.
“You talk to him all the time.”
“Yeah but you never put me on the spot like this.” With his freehand he rubs the back of his neck. 
“Just do it.” He takes a deep breath, his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin. 
“Hello ik’aad.” He says softly, looking up at you for approval as you nod. “I’m excited to meet you soon, little one.” You watch as the taut skin moves ever so slightly, a little kick against Din’s fingers. His eyes go wide as he sits there a little stunned, you put your hand over his. 
“He does this most of the time when you talk to him. He likes your voice.”
“What else should I tell him about?”
“Anything.” 
He smiles at you, the corners of his eyes crinkle before he smiles at your bump.
“We painted your crib today, we decided to leave the walls alone but we wanted something to be green.” He carries on excitedly as you continue to feel the little flutters within you. “And- and someday you’re going to share a room with your brother.” You smile as your little one reacts to his fathers voice, you sit up, facing him.
“No more worrying. And if you’re going to worry then I want you to tell me.” You kiss as much of his face as you can. “Okay? Do this for me, please?”
“Okay.” He nods as you give him one last kiss on the lips. 
You move to sit between his legs like you used to in the nook, you find yourself a book as he puts his hands back on your bump while you read. 
He spends the rest of the night talking to your stomach. 
Arin Kuiil Djarin (Harand) was born with a full head of hair. Dark, messy curls that you could make out even through your tears when he came into this world. 
The future monarch. (A ceremonial position.) 
A screaming ball of tears in your arms, crowned king from birth. A boy everyone knew as the only son of the recently departed Kodo Harand. 
Your “royal advisor and personal guard” was beside you the entire time. Holding your hand and kissing your sweat slicked forehead as he whispered to you, telling you just how strong you were. It was one hell of a night but when the morning came suddenly you were parents to a strong, loud little boy.
Din held him first, after he cut the umbilical cord the doctor handed him to him. You watched as he cradled the tiny crying baby in his arms, shushing him softly as he rocked him. It took only a few whispers from his father before Arin calmed down, gasping faintly as Din slid into the bed next to you. You laid your head against his arm, unable to tear your eyes off of the tiny miracle.  
“Do you wanna hold him?” Din’s voice cracks as he continues to stare at him. 
You nod, a little scared about how small he is but you hold your hands out regardless as he carefully transfers him into the crook of your arm. You’re holding your breath as you look down at him. 
When he’s safe in your arms he finally opens his eyes. 
He is just a little copy of your riduur. 
Dark curious eyes scanning your face as you burst into another wave of tears.
“He’s perfect.” 
“He’s perfect.”
You both whisper at the same time, laughing softly. You hold him tightly, Din’s arms wrapped protectively around both of you. 
Your entire universe in one little medcenter bed.
You go on a lot of walks.
It helps you get out of the house and people love to see Arin. Din wears a baby carrier Elaine made with the little one strapped to his chest while you hold his hand. Everyone loves to see the little king, telling you that he’s such a good baby.
People often say he looks just like his father, you always laugh and smile at your brown haired boy.
He really does.  
He acts just like his father too. Even as a baby you can see his personality shining through. He likes to fight you on a lot of things, mostly vegetables and wearing his socks, but he loves you endlessly, your little mama’s boy. You never thought you’d see the adoration from Din’s eyes in someone else's but here he is, smiling up at you like you’re the sun, just like Din.
Your son was one year old when you met your second son. (Technically your eldest.)
You had urged Din to go to him sooner but he always found excuses, finally he told you he wanted to wait until Arin was a little older. On his first birthday you finally convinced him, and your family took a trip to a planet called Ossus. 
And you met a little boy who you loved as a son from the moment you met him. 
He certainly wasn’t what you were expecting but the moment he saw Din you recognized the look in his eyes as the same look Arin gives him first thing in the morning. And from that moment on you knew he was yours. 
You couldn’t ask for sweeter boys in your life. 
You finally found your peace.
Your freedom. 
Things are a little different now but you never find a reason to be upset about it. You just learn to live with it. 
Sometimes Din has to cut up any fruits or vegetables you’re preparing for dinner because the wet slicing sound makes your heart race. 
You sleep with a lamp on because Din trembles when a room goes completely dark, when he asks why you don’t turn it off you tell him you just like having it on because you know he’ll never tell you just how afraid he was when he was trapped beneath the stone and earth. 
You wrap him in blankets when winter comes and cradle his head against your chest, desperate to keep him warm. You see the vacant look in his eyes when a chill settles in his bones. The moment you see him shiver you bundle him up and drag him to bed, warming him with gentle and precise kisses until his eyes soften up again. 
Din always wakes you up if he’s leaving the room after you’ve fallen asleep. It doesn’t matter if he’s going to the fresher or if he’s going to grab the baby and come right back. Because he knows that if he isn’t there when you wake up, you will freeze up in terror and cry softly to yourself until he returns. 
On stormy nights, when the wind blows a certain way that resembles a low wailing, Din will always find an excuse to send Lysa a transmission, asking how Elaine is doing. 
You learn to live with the little thing’s because sometimes you can’t heal completely, but you live regardless. You have reasons to endure. 
You endure for Din. 
You endure for Grogu. 
And you endure for Arin. 
Din always says he was born to love you.
You agree but that wasn’t all he was born for, he was born to be a father. 
Arin and Grogu taught you to be a mother, but Din was made for fatherhood. 
That’s what you think about, as you sit in the loveseat by the fire, book in hand. You aren’t actually reading it, you’re too busy watching the scene on the floor in front of you. Your sons peek out of the pillow fort they’ve built against the sofa, Arin covering his mouth as he holds in a giggle, staring at you with his wide brown eyes. You give him a small wave, watching as he darts back inside. 
“Are you staring at your mother, young man? Staring is very rude.” You hear Din’s voice from inside the fort, a large bump in the blanket roof where he sits. More giggles follow as he crawls back to the small entryway, you watch as he shrieks when Din drags him back into the fort, taking his place and mimicking the little boy as he stares at you.
He looks at you with a devotion that never wavers. 
“You’re my creed. Everything I have, everything I am, it’s all for you. For both of you.” 
He still tells you that often. Except now he says for all of you. 
He crawls out of the fort, his face red from exertion as he makes his way over to your chair, like he’s under some sort of spell that pulls him towards you.
“How are my girls, buir sarad?” Din’s out of breath as he grabs the armrests of the chair, caging you in as he kisses you. 
“Tired.” You grin at him as he kneels down in front of you, resting his forehead on the bump you’re cradling with your freehand. You set your book down on the end table next to you, content to watch as he knocks his nose against the strained fabric of your dress. 
“Sarad’ika.” He smiles, kissing the top of your stomach, you don’t mind losing your nickname to someone it suits more. “Let me put them to bed, I’ll be right back.” His lips turn up as he stands, looking down at the two boys with drooping eyes and mouths open in yawns.
“Go with your buir now my loves, I’ll come tuck you in in a minute.” You groan as you stand, Din scooping up both babies with ease. 
“Haav ca’nara.” Bed time. He whispers, carrying them towards the fresher, you hear the water run as he washes their little faces and brushes their teeth. 
You tidy up, folding blankets and rearranging pillows as you hear water splashing from the other room followed by a loud sigh. You stifle a laugh as you watch your boys running from the fresher down the hall towards their room, a soaking wet Din soon follows. You continue to clean, waiting until it gets quiet before making your way out of the room. You walk past the nursery, empty and waiting for its next occupant, towards the door with the faint glow of a night light. Peering in from the doorway you see all your boys in one room. 
Grogu and Arin lay in their respective beds, each is far too big for the small boys but they’ll grow into them. Grogu’s already asleep as Din kneels beside Arin’s bed, brushing a curl out of the little one's eyes. 
“Goodnight, ik’aad.” He leans down, kissing his son's face, earning a sleepy smile from the boy. 
“Night, buir.” He mumbles out, he doesn’t speak often, quiet like his father, but when he does it’s always clear. 
Din smiles, standing, kissing your cheek as he passes you, going out into the main room to lock up as you make your way to Grogu’s bedside, watching his eyes flutter as you press a kiss into his wrinkly green forehead. 
“Goodnight, my love.” You mumble before turning to Arin’s bed, sitting beside him as you watch him fight sleep, trying to keep his eyes open. “Sleep now my little love.” You murmur to him, kissing your fingertips before bringing them to his forehead. 
“Goodnight mama.” He yawns out as you watch him finally succumb to sleep. 
You leave the door open a crack, letting out another groan as you rub your stomach, Din waits for you in the dimly lit hall, holding out a hand which you happily take, letting him pull you into an embrace. 
“No more babies after this one, my back is killing me.” You give him a stern look as he brings both hands to your bump. 
“You have given me everything, I wouldn’t possibly ask for more.” He whispers. “Although I do think we could handle one more.” He raises his eyebrows at you and you can’t help but laugh.
“Fine, you carry the next one then.” You reach behind him, pushing open the door as you grab the collar of his tunic, pulling him into a kiss while you laugh against each other. 
“I love you.” He mumbles. 
“I love you too.” There is no hesitation. There hasn’t been for a long time. 
And you go to bed. 
In your perfectly sized bedroom. 
On your perfectly sized mattress. 
With your Din. 
a/n : this is technically the last chapter of bks <3 :,) epilouge in one week. q&a tomorrow so send your asks with questions. all my love to everyone whos read this far.
i no longer have a tag list !! follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates !!
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kombuuuu · 1 year
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ONGOMG I saw a Tiktok and it has Miles webbing up your hand while hand holding bc he’s so clingy and I can def imagine it 🥺
Also particularly weak for Pavitr doing the “pinky finger hook” thingy instead of hand holding bc he’s too much of a cutie
OWHHHH MYYYY GOD ANON IM INSANE FOR THESE MEN!!!!
1610 would SOOO web you together omg that’s such a cute headcanon. He’d be the type to grab the straps of your bag, or the bottom of your shirt just so he doesn’t get lost in crowds — or vise versa.
if he couldn’t web you, like you guys were in a civilian setting — hed sooo get you guys those bracelets that like connect to one another,, not the magnet ones, but the ones that clip. so there’s actually no way you could leave his grasp
he’s so clingy it’s unbelievable, you makes jokes with him about getting those leash backpacks at this point
he gets one — spiderman themed.
“Miles Morales, what the hell is that.”
“It’s… a gift?”
“I’m not putting that on.”
“Conejita, please!”
“That’s humiliating!”
“I think it’s romantic.”
“You’re insane!”
/
“Miles! How long does this last?!”
“Oh about two hours., why?”
“I have class in 40!”
“Oh… Skip?”
“I swear on my momma—“
“Okay— okay, i’ll find the dissolvant >:(“
42 is more obvious with his attachment. not only holding your hand, but is a huuuuge fan of you linking your arm with his,, he gets so flattered when you hold his arm, subtly flexing under your hands while you hug his bicep to your chest
when it’s not that — a hand around your waist is a given. or maybe he’d be the type to do the cliche ‘hand in your back pocket’ just to be cheesy
we all know he’s a goofy bitch he’s just in denial
“Ma, C’mere.”
“Wh— Yeah, what’s wrong?”
“Pay attention to me.”
“Miles I’m talking to—“
“I don’t care >:|.”
“You’re being so subtle.”
“Shush, I like showin’ you off.”
“Pff.. Whatever.”
“Pout all you want mamas, I know you love it.”
Pavitr, my boy my love
god he would SO link pinkies with you
he’d see you getting all nervous around his family and just hook his pinky around yours. sending you a cute reassuring smile
he’d give you goofy grins when you walked like that in public, and if you walked in front of him, he’d grab your belt loop, trying to match his feet with yours so he didn’t bump into anyone
ALSO ALSO !!!! he’d be the type to not want to let go at all for anything, so he’d just try and do tasks with one hand
and if your holding his dominant, he’ll fumble around trying to do things and watch you giggle
you’ll kiss the tip of his nose and tell him to finish up while letting go of him, and he’ll pout and grumble but eventually get things done quicker — so he can get back to you
“Baby, just let go for a second.”
“No, I’m doing fine, Thithli!”
“Pav.”
“Mmm, fine fine. Whatever It’s not like i’m sad about it or anything.”
“Your pouting.”
“You’re laughing!”
“I’m sorry!!”
“My heart is shattered.” :C
“Oh— I’m done. Yippee!” C:
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