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godsfavdarling · 2 months

Text

How does that feel?

my masterlist

+18!!!

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader summary: You've been having a hard time finishing in bed and you finally tell Spencer what's going on. words: 4,4k warnings: smut - oral (fem! receiving), breast/nipple play, unprotected sex (don't do that) a/n: this was a request! also, i've stared at this thing for so long i don't know anymore what's going on, but i hope yall like it <3

You sat at a cozy corner table in the dimly lit bar, surrounded by your closest friends - Penelope, Emily, and JJ. The four of you had met up for a much-needed girls' night out to finally have a chance to unwind and catch up.

"Can you believe the latest case we worked on?" JJ said, shaking her head. "Sometimes it feels like we're living in a crime novel."

"Tell me about it," Emily agreed. "But PLEASE! Let’s not talk about work. I need to decompress."

Penelope raised her glass. "To decompressing! And to… friends!"

You all clinked glasses, smiling at each other. Very quickly the conversation shifted towards more personal topics.

"So, how are things with Will?" Emily asked, turning to JJ.

JJ smiled. "Things are great, actually. We're planning a little getaway next month, just the two of us. What about you, Em? Any romance on the horizon?"

Emily shrugged. "I'm enjoying the single life right now. Besides, it’s not easy to find love having this job. When am I supposed to do that?"

Penelope grinned. "Don’t you worry about it, pumpkin! You’re gonna find someone soon. I can feel it in my bones!."

The conversation continued in this vein for a while, each of you sharing updates about your romantic lives. You listened and laughed along, but Penelope's observant eyes caught the slightly distant look on your face.

"Alright, spill it," Penelope prompted, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "What's been going on with you lately? You've seemed a bit off."

You sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and embarrassment. These were your friends, after all, and you knew you could trust them. "It's just... I've been having a hard time finishing in bed lately. It's been… really frustrating."

Emily raised an eyebrow, her expression sympathetic. "Have you talked to Spencer about it?"

You shook your head. "Not yet. I mean, I want to, but I don't want to make him feel bad or think it's his fault. He's always so attentive, and I don't want him to think he's doing something wrong. And he’s not doing anything wrong. He’s perfect. Obviously."

JJ leaned in, her voice gentle. "Hey, communication is key. Spencer loves you, and I'm sure he’d want to know what's going on so he can help. I’m sure his big brain knows exactly what to do."

Penelope nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! Plus, it could be an opportunity to explore new things together… Sometimes all it takes is a little experimentation."

You smiled, feeling a bit more encouraged. "Yeah, maybe you're right. I'll talk to him."

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Later that evening, you found yourself back at home, sitting on the couch next to Spencer. He was engrossed in a book, the dim light casting soft shadows across his focused face. He set the book aside when he noticed your pensive expression, concern immediately clouding his eyes.

"Hey, is everything okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but laced with worry.

You took a deep breath, feeling your heart pound in your chest. "Spence, there's something I need to talk to you about."

He turned to face you fully, his full attention on you, his brow furrowing slightly. "Of course. What is it?"

You hesitated, your fingers twisting in your lap as you searched for the right words. Finally, you decided to dive in. "Lately, I've been having a hard time finishing in bed. It's been really frustrating for me, and I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want you to feel bad."

Spencer's expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding and concern. His mouth opened slightly as if to speak, but he hesitated, clearly processing what you had just revealed. "Oh…”

You immediately regretted saying anything. It wasn't the end of the world, after all. You still enjoyed sex but just couldn't reach the high. Maybe you were just too stressed.

It had nothing to do with Spencer.

Tears welled up in your eyes as Spencer seemed lost in thought, his brow furrowed as he tried to find the right words. Why would he know what to say? You felt like you were just making things difficult.

“Forget it. It’s fine,” you said quickly, trying to dismiss the conversation and spare him the discomfort.

“No, no, no, wait,” he said, reaching out and grabbing your hands as you started to stand up. His grip was firm but gentle, grounding you. “It’s okay. I’m glad you told me. I just… how did I not notice? I… I’m just trying to remember, well, I remember everything and I just… I can’t believe I… couldn’t tell.”

“It’s fine, Spencer. I didn’t want you to know. It’s embarrassing.” Your voice wavered, and you looked away, feeling tears start to spill down your cheeks.

“No, it’s not. It’s not embarrassing. I want you to feel good.”

“It does feel good. Always. I just… I don’t know. I just can’t cum. It’s like I get almost there and it feels good, but it never happens.” At this point, you were crying openly, the frustration and embarrassment overwhelming you.

Spencer pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you securely. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and steady beat of his heart. He rubbed your back soothingly, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. "Hey, hey, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out together. I want to help."

You clung to him, feeling the weight of your frustration starting to lift just a little. "I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to think it was your fault."

Spencer pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his gaze intense and filled with love. “It’s not your fault, and it’s not my fault. Sometimes these things happen. What’s important is that we’re in this together. We can try new things, we can talk and see what works for you.”

You nodded, sniffling a little. “Okay. I’d like that.”

“Good,” he said, smiling gently, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek. “We’ll take it slow and explore together. Your pleasure is important to me, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re satisfied.”

As you snuggled into his arms, the tension slowly easing from your body, you wondered why you had been so scared to tell him in the first place. Spencer always knew what to say, always knew how to make you feel safe and loved.

This was Spencer - your Spencer - and you realized you had nothing to fear.

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Spencer was clearly waiting for you to initiate anything, respecting your pace and comfort. In the meantime, he very carefully tried to understand you.

Despite his constant reassurances that there was nothing to be ashamed of and that he was more than happy to figure this out together, you couldn't shake the lingering embarrassment about your problem. He was understanding and supportive, trying to create a safe space for you to open up about your frustrations.

You spent several nights just talking, diving deep into the details of your intimate experiences. Spencer approached it with a mix of curiosity and determination, asking thoughtful and sometimes probing questions.

You discussed every position you'd tried before, analyzing what felt best and why. You talked about your feelings toward toys and whether they might help.

Spencer inquired about foreplay - whether it felt too short, too long, too intense, or not intense enough. He wanted to understand what was most pleasurable for you in terms of finishing. Was it when he was eating you out, fingering you, or through penetration? Or did you find that a combination of these was most satisfying?

He also asked if you enjoyed it when he talked to you during the act. What were your favorite things for him to say?

He wanted to understand everything about your experiences. What went through your mind when you masturbated? What kind of porn did you watch? Each question, while sometimes making your face flush with embarrassment, was asked with genuine care and focus.

Spencer treated it like a meticulous scientific research project, aiming to solve the problem with the utmost care and attentiveness. His dedication and focus made you feel deeply cared for, as he was on a mission to be the one to help you find the satisfaction you deserved.

On Saturday night, you and Spencer lay in bed with your books, enjoying the quiet comfort of each other's company. He was engrossed in a thick classic novel in a foreign language, while you were absorbed in your favorite author’s new romance. The plot had just reached the point where the two protagonists had sex for the first time. The scene stirred something deep within you, making your skin feel hot and your heart race. You bit your lip, trying to concentrate, but your thoughts kept drifting.

As the scene ended, you finally allowed yourself to look over at Spencer. He was completely lost in the pages, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“Having problems, genius?” you teased, your voice carrying a playful edge.

“What? No!” he replied, not even looking up from the words on the page. “How’s your romance? Is it good?”

“Oh... it’s very good,” you said, scooting closer to him, propping your head on your hand. Finally, he looked at you, curiosity mingling with his usual attentiveness.

“What is it?” he asked, sensing your change in mood.

“Nothing,” you replied with feigned innocence, placing your hand on his chest.

His eyes stayed on you, studying your expression. Your breathing grew heavier as you stared at his neck, unable to hold back any longer. You lowered your face to the side of his neck, your lips brushing against his skin.

Spencer's breath hitched slightly, and he set his book aside, his attention fully on you now. "Are you sure it's nothing?" he murmured, his voice low and inviting.

You smiled against his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin. "Well, maybe it's something," you admitted, your voice a whisper. Your fingers traced gentle patterns on his chest, feeling a now quicker beat of his heart beneath your touch.

Spencer’s hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “Tell me,” he urged softly, his eyes filled with desire.

The room felt charged with electricity.

“Well… I was just reading this scene… where, you know… the girl and the boy finally fucked. On the floor. It made me think of us.” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly.

“You want to have sex on the floor?” Spencer asked with a serious tone.

You laughed, the sound easing some of the tension. “No, too many germs,” you said with a playful grin.

Spencer chuckled, his eyes softening with affection. “Alright, not on the floor then,” he said, his voice low and inviting as his hand gently caressed your cheek. “But I get the idea.”

You leaned into his touch, your heart pounding with anticipation. “I just want to be close to you,” you murmured, your fingers tracing the outline of his collarbone.

Spencer's eyes darkened with understanding, and he leaned in to kiss you, his lips soft yet insistent. “Then let’s explore that together,” he whispered against your lips, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip, pulling you closer.

His kiss was deep, his lips moving against yours with a gentle urgency that sent shivers down your spine.

His hand, now resting on your hip, guided you closer, pressing your bodies together.

You instinctively rubbed your thighs together, seeking some friction, and Spencer, ever observant, immediately noticed. It seemed impossible for him to be more attentive, yet somehow he was.

With a gentle but deliberate motion, he turned you so that you were lying on your back beneath him. As he shifted, you felt the press of his already hard cock against your core, making you lift your hips slightly, yearning for more contact.

“We’re gonna take things slow, okay?” he murmured, his voice soft but firm. “I want you to feel good.”

You wanted him, you wanted him now, but you understood his approach.

After all the endless conversations, you and Spencer had reached a few conclusions about what worked best for you both.

For one, you often found yourselves too excited, mostly you, to slow things down. Foreplay, though it was present, had usually been quite brief due to the intense need to get naked and feel him inside you. So, longer foreplay became a new priority.

Two, you discovered that you felt most connected when he was close to you, every part of his body touching yours.

Three, you both agreed on the importance of more kissing. Spencer had given you what felt like a comprehensive college level lesson on erogenous zones, emphasizing the need to focus on and cherish these areas.

His lips, his touch, his breath - every aspect of physical intimacy was to be savored and explored in greater depth.

With these insights in mind, Spencer leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. His hands roamed your body with a slow, deliberate grace, each touch designed to explore and stimulate.

His kisses traveled from your lips to your neck, then lower, each movement a careful balance of passion and tenderness.

He paused to look into your eyes, his gaze filled with both love and a hint of playful mischief. “Ready for us to take our time?” he asked, his voice a soothing murmur.

You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of excitement and relief. “Let’s take our time.”

Your nipples were already hard against your tank top, the fabric offering little barrier to the stimulation. Spencer grazed the side of your breasts with his hands, his touch both teasing and tender.

As his lips kissed and nuzzled your collarbones, his thumb began to circle your nipple through the thin material of your shirt. The sensation made you shiver with pleasure, and you melted further into his touch.

His leg, now firmly pressed between your thighs, rubbed gently against your inner thighs and core. The pressure of his length pressed into your hip, amplifying the heat building in you.

“Please, take it off,” you whispered, your voice quivering with need.

“Take off what?” Spencer murmured, his face still buried in your chest, his hair brushing against your face with every movement.

“My shirt. Please,” you pleaded, a hint of desperation in your voice.

He chuckled softly, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he slid his hands lower, pushing up your top to reveal your stomach. He showered your exposed skin with soft kisses, his lips warm and affectionate against your belly.

As you reached for the hem of your shirt, you quickly pulled it off, tossing it aside.

“What happened to taking things slow?” Spencer asked, looking up at you with a teasing grin, his chin resting against your stomach.

“Sorry,” you said, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Don’t be,” he replied with a smile. “I just want to make sure you feel really good.”

“I do,” you whispered, your voice filled with need. “Keep going.”

“Whatever you say, angel,” he murmured with a soft chuckle.

With that, Spencer moved between your legs, lifting them and resting them on his shoulders. He positioned himself comfortably, and you felt the anticipation rise as his face moved closer to your core.

He inhaled deeply, his breath warm against your sensitive folds, making you whimper in response.

“Please,” you begged softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” he said, his voice muffled as he pressed his face into you, pulling down your underwear with careful, deliberate motions. He started with a gentle kiss on your nub, his lips exploring with a tenderness that made you gasp.

He then trailed his kisses down to your thighs, peppering them with soft, teasing pecks. The sensation was delightful, and you giggled, placing your hand on his cheek.

He turned his mouth to your hand, kissing the inside of your palm before taking it in his hand and guiding it back to rest gently beside you. His fingers lingered, his touch warm and reassuring as he held your hand.

He then looked at your cunt.

“You’re already so wet. For me?” he asked, his voice filled with both awe and desire.

“For you? Always,” you replied, your breath hitching.

He chuckled against you, the sound and the vibration making you shiver. “Don’t do that,” you said with a laugh, trying to steady your breathing.

“Sorry,” he murmured with a playful tone.

Before you could say anything more, he gave you a long, slow lick from your entrance to the top, his tongue moving with a deliberate slowness. He stopped at your sensitive nub and began to suck gently, his mouth working with a rhythm that made you arch your back and moan in pleasure.

Spencer’s mouth was a world of sensation against you.

He kept going with long, languid licks, his tongue gliding from your entrance to the top of your sensitive nub. Each stroke was deliberate, exploring every inch with a careful, loving precision.

The warmth of his tongue, combined with the perfect pressure, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, making you gasp and moan.

You felt your breath quicken as his movements became more focused.

He moved his tongue in quicker, teasing circles around your clit, his mouth creating a constant, delightful friction.

You squirmed under the intensity, your hips instinctively bucking in response.

When you no longer felt him on your clit, a desperate cry for him almost escaped your lips. But then, he gently slipped his tongue inside you, and a wave of relief and pleasure washed over you.

He moved with precision, his tongue exploring deeper while maintaining the steady, teasing motions that drove you wild. Each movement was deliberate, calculated to elicit the maximum pleasure from you.

His nose brushed against your folds and clit with each movement, adding an extra layer of sensation. The combination of his tongue inside you and the gentle pressure of his nose against your most sensitive spot made you tremble.

Your hand clutched at the sheets, your body arching toward him, seeking more.

You could feel the build-up of tension and ecstasy swelling inside you.

Through all of this, Spencer held your hand firmly in his, his fingers intertwined with yours.

As you felt your orgasm approaching, you squeezed his hand tightly, your fingers gripping his with a mix of desperation and pleasure.

Spencer responded by tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, his touch soothing and intimate amidst all the intense sensations he was creating.

With a final, expert flick of his tongue, he sent you spiraling into a powerful climax.

Your body tensed and then released in a wave of pleasure, your moans filling the room. Spencer continued his slow, consistent movements, savoring every moment of your release.

As the waves of pleasure began to subside, he slowly eased his mouth away, leaving soft, lingering kisses along your inner thighs.

His hand remained clasped with yours, and he looked into your eyes from between your thighs, his expression a mix of content and desire. “Wanna keep going? We can stop if you need to.”

You shook your head, a determined glint in your eyes as you pulled yourself up and crushed into him, pressing your lips against his with an almost desperate intensity.

The kiss was fervent, your tongues dancing together, both urgent and consuming as you tasted yourself on his lips and on his tongue. He was covered in you.

Spencer’s hands found their way to your back, his touch warm and gentle, but firm at the same time.

Tonight felt different. It was more intense, more electric.

As your kiss grew deeper, you moaned into him, the sound mingling with his own soft groans of pleasure. With a deft maneuver, he turned you so that you were straddling him, his hands firmly on your hips.

“Is this okay?” he managed to ask, his voice a low rumble as he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes. The effort it took to break the kiss was evident, his breaths heavy and laden with desire.

“Yes,” you responded quickly, your need palpable as you crashed your lips back onto his, kissing him even harder.

“Baby, slow down,” Spencer said softly, though his voice was tinged with longing. “We were meant to go slow.”

You moved your lips to his cheek and jaw, leaving a trail of kisses that were tender but laced with urgency. “I need you. I need you so bad,” you whispered against his skin, the words laced with an aching desire.

Spencer gently cupped your face, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your jawline. He guided your gaze to meet his.

“Look at me,” he said softly, his voice a gentle promise and his eyes filled with affection “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. We have all night and even more.”

He leaned in and kissed you with a tenderness that contrasted the intensity of moments before.

“How do you do it?” you asked breathlessly, your curiosity blending with the haze of desire. You wondered, as you looked into his eyes, how he managed to maintain such control over himself amidst all the passion.

“What?” Spencer’s voice was a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

“Stop yourself,” you clarified, your voice barely above a whisper. “How do you manage to hold back?”

Spencer’s eyes softened, and he gave you a reassuring smile. “It’s not about holding back,” he said, his voice calm and sincere. “It’s about making sure you feel good. I want this to be perfect for you, for us, every time. That’s what matters.”

His words stirred something deep within you, and you were hit by a wave of warmth and appreciation. As he leaned in to kiss you again, the tender, loving nature of his touch gave you goosebumps.

“Can we fuck now?” you asked, your voice husky with need.

Spencer looked at you with a warm, eager smile. “Yes. Yes, we can,”

You gave his cock a few teasing strokes, feeling the way he reacted, his breath hitching as he moaned softly into your shoulder. You slowly guided him to your entrance.

The sensation of him pressing against you was both thrilling and comforting, a familiar solace you will never get tired of and always makes your world shudder.

With a gentle, deliberate motion, you positioned him at your core, and you slowly lowered yourself onto him.

The gradual stretch and the way he filled you completely was exquisite, causing you both to moan into each other’s mouths softly.

You took your time, savoring each inch, feeling every subtle shift and movement.

Spencer’s hands were steady on your hips, guiding and supporting you as you adjusted to his size. His breaths were heavy, matching the rhythm of your movements.

The room was filled with only the sound of your shared pleasure, a mix of gasps and moans.

As you slowly rode him, the rhythm of your movements became more synchronized, each motion building both of you up to the peak.

Spencer’s hands were not idle - he moved with purpose, his touch exploring every inch of your body with a deep, loving attentiveness.

One hand continued to support you around your lower back, while the other trailed up to your breasts. His fingers began to play with your nipples, gently pinching and rolling them as you moved.

That was one thing you had confessed to him during one of your intimate conversations, and Spencer had clearly taken it to heart. You had shared with him how much you loved when he played with your breasts, revealing, a bit embarrassed, the deep pleasure it brought you.

“How does that feel?” he asked in between the kisses he left on your neck, his voice a husky whisper against your skin.

“Fuck,” was all you managed to say, a breathless gasp that made him chuckle, his eyes gleaming with amusement and desire.

He massaged your breasts tenderly, his fingers moving with a practiced ease, adjusting his touch to match the rhythm of your thrusts. His lips covered every inch of your neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

The combination of his hands on your breasts, the feeling of him inside you, and his lips on your skin was overwhelming. Your body responded instinctively, arching into his touch, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

Spencer’s breath came in ragged gasps, his groans of pleasure mingling with yours. His hands worked skillfully, keeping your nipples sensitive and aroused as your movements became more frantic and desperate. Then his eyes locked onto yours, a mixture of concentration and passion evident in his gaze.

While you stared into his brown eyes, he finally teased your nipple with a light lick of his tongue.

You almost screamed.

He started kissing it while his other hand worked on your other breast, his mouth hot and insistent. His tongue traced circles around your hard peak, sending shivers down your spine, while his slim fingers squeezed the other one.

At that point, you screamed into his ear, unable to contain the intensity of your pleasure.

“Sorry,” you whispered, your voice a trembling apology.

“It’s okay. You’re so beautiful,” he replied, his eyes softening with affection as he looked at you, his hands never ceasing their tender ministrations. His words and touch combined, making you feel cherished and desired in every way and that made your heart swell.

His lips returned to your other nipple, sucking and teasing it with more insistence now.

Finally, the pressure inside you reached its peak.

With a gasp and a shudder, you came, the wave of ecstasy crashing over you while his lips stayed on your breasts peppering them with kisses.

Your body tensed and then relaxed as you rode out the climax, your moans filling the room. Spencer continued to stroke your breasts gently, his touch both soothing and stimulating as he guided you through the final throes of your orgasm.

As you slowly came down from the high, you leaned your head against his, your fingers gently threading through his hair, the other arm wrapped around his neck. He held you close, his hands now lingering on your back with a soft, affectionate touch.

He squeezed you tightly, turning his face to kiss your neck, which elicited one more moan from your lips.

You could feel him smiling against your skin as he squeezed you tightly one more time.

#spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader smut

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gabriellessworldd · 2 months

Text

Never get yo bitch back!

plug!connie x black fem reader 😛😛

wc- 1.7k!

☆ warnings ☆: mdni! mentions of weed nd alcohol, smut 18+, cheating (established relationship w eren), public-ish sex (bathroom unlocked door), pnv, oral (f receive), Connie and reader have wanted each other for a min, first time writing ever don't drag me y'all pls!! 😓 I kinda want to make this have multiple parts but idk yet. I'm very open to criticism nd I hope y'all enjoy!

"Y/nnnnn, cmon you can come outside for one night!" Your best friend Sasha whined through the screen. As much as you protested, deep down you really did want to go out. Especially because Eren wasn't at home, you really wanted to talk to him since y'all haven't been doing so well recently. Petty arguments, sleepless nights, ig posts, and to top it all off he hasn't been to your house in weeks, not giving y'all anytime to have a conversation.

You check the time and see it's 6:00pm that means you got at least 2-3 hours before you would have to leave. "Girl you right, send me the lo. What you wearin?" Sasha set her phone up to show you the outfit she picked out, "Girl that's cute asf!! Ima match you." Sasha helped you pick out an outfit (1 or 2) that resembled hers. "Okay Sash ima finish my hair nd makeup, lmk when yall otw there." "Bye N/n, i gotchu." Sasha hung up and you continued finishing your hair and makeup.

Once you were in your car you looked at the location, realizing that it was at Jean's house, meaning Connie would be there. There was something so attractive about Connie that you didn't know how to explain, he was just, mesmerizing. You knew you would never be able to approach him tho, him nd Eren had been friends forever, and that was a boundary you wouldn't cross. Nothing being crossfaded couldn't fix..

You pull in front of Jean's house and it's packed, you can hear the music from the street. You text Sasha that you pulled up and fix yourself in the car mirror. "We're waiting for you at the front N/n." You read Sasha's text and get out of your car. When you open the door Mikasa, Annie, Sasha, and some other girls greet you. You scan the crowd feeling a familiar stare, you turn to your right and see a crossfaded Connie Springer and his homeboys sitting on some sofas in the corner. Connie feels you stare back and smirks. 'This finna be interesting.' You think to yourself.

You make your way to the kitchen to take a couple shots, Sasha gets a blunt from Ony, and y'all head upstairs to light up. When the sesh is over you feel amazing, the music is blasting, you're having a great night, and you're a 10, what could be better? You and the girls head downstairs to go dance and enjoy your night. You and Sasha throw ass like there's no tomorrow and Mikasa is right there to catch it. You laugh and stand up straight when you feel the stare of those familiar hazel eyes. "Ima go grab another drink" you tell Sasha and she drukenly nods.

You walk up to the counter where all of the drinks are, "hey connie" you look at him, and smile. He leans in closer to you "wassup mami, you look good. shit, you smell good too." he smiles at you with all of his pearly white teeth and you notice his silver grillz.(#1, #2, #3) God he's so fine. The way his red eyes are hanging low, the smell of his cologne, and his pretty ass accent, triple homicide.

"Where yo man at tho? Thought he was gon come tonight." Connie's confused as to why Eren isn't at this party trailing you like a lost puppy, unless, y'all wasn't on speaking terms right now. He grinned at the thought "Oh um Ion really-" You stuttered out wondering why he would ruin a good conversation. "Nah you ain gotta answer mami, follow me." He held his hand out with a 'hm' and you quickly took it, needing to feel his touch. He lead you upstairs to the first bathroom he saw, he opened the door, "Tu vas primero hermosa" you go first beautiful. You smiled at the sentence and walked in front of him. His eyes naturally trailed down to the best view there was 'Damn.' was all he thought as he watched you walk and felt himself get harder in his sweats.

"So wassup?" You questioned him, almost like a challenge. You leaned your back against the counter and looked into his eyes. "To be honest ion wanna play no games ma, you know what I want." He leaned towards you, muscular and veiny arms on both sides of you, caging you in.

You could feel the tension grow as both of you realized just how badly you needed the other. "Can I?" Connie asks to kiss you 'and he's respectful omg add that to the list' you think, "Yes, you can." As soon as those three words came out of your mouth, Connie grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you to him, his other hand quickly found your ass and squeezed, while your hands slid their way into his scruffy buzzcut. The kiss was passionate but it also had a hint of hunger, longing almost, like both of you waited your whole lives for this. Both of your tongues fighting for dominance, and both of you wanted, no, craved more from each other. Connie's large hand found it's way to your throat and he squeezed softly earning a light moan from you, Connie pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you two.

"Ay dios mio mami" oh my god Connie whispered. Connie littered bites and hickeys down your neck and exposed cleavage, not caring who would see. He tapped on your thigh, a signal for you to stand so he could remove your pants. He then picked you up and set you back down on the counter, he kissed the insides of your thighs and left a trail of bites. He looked up at you for confirmation, and you nodded your head, he pulled your panties to the side. Connie was in a trance, the way your folds were so puffy, the way they were covered in wetness, connie almost came in his pants at the sight. "Fuck." was all he said before he began kissing and sucking on your lips. He spread them open with his middle and index finger, and could've sworn he saw heaven.

He plunged his fingers inside your wet hole, sucking on your clit while he pumped his fingers in you nice and slow. "Fuck con" you let out a soft moan, it was like music to his ears. He worked his fingers a little faster and curled them up grazing over your spot. "o-oh fuck connie mmhm, right there" He came up, bottom half of his face covered in your sweet juices "You taste so sweet, princesa" and with that he went back down and devoured you like you were his last meal. "a-ah mm con. That feels soo good" you whispered, feather light moans. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening as he pushed his tongue in and out of your hole. "Cmon mami let me hear you." he felt you squeeze his tongue and pull his hair, that was enough to let him know. He pushed his fingers back in and started pumping at an insane speed.

"Go ahead ma, let me taste all of you" Your thighs tightened around his head as you felt your high coming. "ah connie 'm gonna cum, fuck!" you moaned out louder than before, he curled his fingers again, making you throw your head back and squeeze your eyes closed. "Joder, eres tan deliciosa." damn, you're so delicious.

Connie stood up and your hands immediately found the band of his sweats and boxers, in one tug you pulled them both down. "Eager much huh mami? Well I expect you to take it all then." Your eyes widened at the statement but your thoughts were cut short when you heard him speak again. "Turn around for me mami, and don't take your eyes off the mirror." The dominance in his voice made you even wetter. You turned around towards the mirror and he slid off your panties.

He smeared his tip on your folds, collecting your wetness. Without warning he pushed his full length in, starting off with slow strokes. "Fuck mami, you're squeezing me so tight" You arched your back a little more and relaxed. He starts moving quicker and palms the fat of your ass.

Connie props one of your legs on the counter and smacks your ass. "f-fuck connie oh!" hearing you get louder, not caring if anyone could hear you, only riled him up more. He snaked his hand around your throat pulling your head up more so you could see what a mess he made of you. Your lip liner gone, mascara smeared on your damp bottom eyelashes, and a fucked out expression. Connie thought you looked perfect.

"Y-yes mami, take all t-this dick" you hear him stutter his calm demeanor fading away as he fucks into you at an unruly pace. "Ah! Con so good. i-it's so big" He smacks your ass again and continues fucking you.

He pulls out and you pout feeling empty "Calmate princesa." calm down princess He chuckles and flips you on your back then he pulls your hips closer to him. He pushes back into you, not wasting any time. Connie pushes your legs back a little more "Keep 'em right there ma." You hold the back of your knees with your hands, feeling connie's tip hit all the right places, Connie places a heavy hand on your lower stomach and he presses down. "a-ah con please! it feels soo good." You and Connie both feel yourselves about to cum.

"Con 'm about to cum! ah please Connie!" You can feel your thighs starting to shake, "g-go ahead mami, fuck you're so perfect. m-make a mess all over me." Connie rubs on your sensitive bud and keeps fucking you deep. You can feel a wave of pleasure wash over you and your vision turns white. "Ah! Connie fuck 'm cumming!" You yell, "f-fuck me too ma." You notice his voice falter and crack at the end, he sounds so angelic. He pulls out and hot, white, ropes coat your tummy.

Connie begins wiping off your stomach and he leans in to kiss you, but he sees something in the corner of his eye, almost like a, figure. "Shit" Connie says blankly, putting his pants back on. You scramble to put your clothes back on and turn to see Eren standing there looking pissed.

"what.. what the fuck is wrong with y'all?"

Whew chileeeee. y'all did I at least nibble or what 👀 but lmk if I should make this multiple parts, also give me title ideas!! lmk if y'all want to be tagged in the next parts! love u all nd I hope y'all had as much fun reading as I had writing this! (watch nb read ts #embarrasing 😰)

- with lots of love, gabrielle <3

#connie springer #connie x black reader #plug!connie #aot x reader #aot #black reader #fanfic #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #black tumblr #x black reader #x black y/n #aot smut #connie smut #aot connie #new author #new to writing

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landograndprix · 6 months

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ xi

part ten - part twelve

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ charles finally realizes things between you and lando are in fact serious.

➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ sorry this took so long :') charles needs professional help <3

➽────────────────────────❥

milliexoxo

liked by y/nusername, logansargeant and 5,784 others

milliexoxo okay but my mom speaks italian

tagged: landonorris, y/nusername, carlossainz55

view all 583 comments

norrizz NAH MISS ZOE LECLERC SIT DOWN IM NOT READY FOR YOU TO STAND

↳ yukisan HONESTLY WHATS NEXT WALKING?!

bott_ass HAVE Y'ALL NOT SEEN MILS LATEST VLOG SHE DOES WALK ALREADY

norrizz NAH SEDATE ME IM NOT READY FOR THIS

norry4 Y'ALL FORGOT ITS HER 1ST BIRTHDAY IN LIKE 2 WEEKS?!

landoscar look at mom and dad :(

julieeeexo refuse to believe that's zoë, why is she growing so fast?!

carlandooo carlos and zoë?! 🥺

↳ sharl16 charles punching air rn 😂

charliecharlie aw I'm becoming the biggest y/nlando shipper 😩

logansargeant love the new haircut. 🔥

↳ hamilt44n asjklmsks arianna what are you doing here?!

grussell63 @.y/nusername help your kid out 😭

landonorizzzz pls @.y/nusername adopt logan as well 😭

landofourr wait is this considered a y/nlando hard launch?

↳ chilisainz girl they don't need a hard launch, it's so obvious with everything they do 💀

versainz155 carlos casually hanging out with lando and his little family is what I'm living for <3

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername posted to their story

charles_leclerc replied to your story

charles_leclerc

Where's zoë?

y/nusername

with millie

charles_leclerc

What hotel are you staying in?

y/nusername

we rented a place, zoë is not stuck in a hotel room if that's what you're hinting at, she's able to crawl and walk around all she want.

charles_leclerc

You go on a lot of dates with lando and leave zoë with someone else

y/nusername

you're joking, right?

you're becoming a real asshole, Charles

get a grip

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 768,523 others

y/nusername quando in Italia 🧀 🍝 (when in italy)

tagged: landonorris, milliexoxo

view all 1,176 comments

norry4 not the bucket hat, my girl has been hanging around with lando to much 😩

milliexoxo I told y'all my mom speaks Italian

↳ charlesgirlies your 'mom' speaks Italian because her baby daddy is half italian

oscarpastry charles is not half Italian 💀

charlesgirlies girl, he is in spirit lmao

bobnorriz lando and zoë content y'all 🥰

norstappen not really sure if I like the fact zoë is walking but okay..rude :(

el645 when are you going to admit you cheated on charles?

↳ hamilt44n oh god the stalker made its way to insta 💀

yukisan when is charles going to admit he cheated on y/n?

el645 aren't yall curious why they broke up?

charlescharles dude we don't need to know why they broke up? 🤡

landonorris been cooking with my best friend 💜

↳ hamiltonh SHUT UP 😭😭 😭

milliexoxo close to turning a year and still a better cook than you

bott_ass girl you're never going to get along with your stepdad if you keep bullying him like this

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

📍 Nice, France

liked by milliexoxo, maxfewtrell and 675,458 others

y/nusername a year ago the tiniest little girl changed my life for the better, happy 1st birthday to our silly little bear ❤️❤️❤️❤️

view all 1,425 comments

bott_ass happy birthday zoë!

maxfewtrell happy 1st birthday to my best friend ❤️

riabish happy birthday pretty girl! 💜💜

logansargeant happy 1st birthday zoë!

↳ hamilt44n I love this, I hope y/n adopted Logan 🥺

milliexoxo my silly little girlfriend, hope you have the happiest of birthdays! <3

carlossainz55 happy birthday to the funniest girl ❤️

norrizz this girlie is so loved 😭 happy b-day little princess! 😍

el645 funny for someone who didn't want a kid in the first place

↳ chilisainz Noelle get your ass out of here

norry4 man's must be blind, this woman LOVES her daughter

lando happy birthday to our little bear 🐻

↳ y/nusername ❤️❤️

landonorris ❤️❤️

yukisan everyday I come on this app and cry :(

charles16 Monaco gp week? Nah, it's been Zoë her week ❤️

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

liked by milliexoxo, maxfewtrell and 698,452 others

y/nusername the bestest company. <3

tagged: milliexoxo, logansargeant, landonorris, liamlawson30

yukisan Logan had been officially adopted 😭

↳ grussell63 and Liam & his girlfriend?! 😭

lewisham Liam and y/n gave little brother big sister vibes back when Liam took dr3 his seat for a while, I'm not surprised!

norrizz I don't think y'all realize y/n started socialising way more after she left charles, I wonder with who she's hanging out with 👀

landoscar lando and oscar content thank you queen!!!!

norry4 mom and dad with their kids <3

chilisainz wonder where the die hard y/ncharles shippers are right now..

↳ yukisan probably still skipping around in delululand

mcnorris lads, she's still dating charles, lando and y/n are just friends...duh 🤪

yukisan if that's what it's like to have lando as just a friend, can I have him as a friend as well 😭

lawsonbaby LIAM?! CANT WAIT TO SEE THE VLOG

carlando they're insta official 🥺

maxfewtrell cute but where am I?

↳ milliexoxo this post is meant for the cute people..

landonorris and yet you're in it..

milliexoxo 😲

y/nusername contrary to popular beliefs, I'm actually nice and didn't want to turn you into another meme

maxfewtrell I appreciate that, thanks mate ❤️

nortrell MATE?! Best buds these two 😭

➽────────────────────────❥

Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-cm @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @devineendevers @celestialend

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #lando norris #charles leclerc #lando norris smau #charles leclerc smau #lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #lando x reader #charles x reader

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pretty-sparkle-bomb · 2 months

Text

What the MHA boys might do for your birthday. This one was extra special and took some time so I hope yall liked it <3

Bakugo Katsuki

I think he'd be the type of guy to give you hot kisses at random times of the day. You could be doing anything, talking to anybody and this explosive hot-head would march right up to you and tug on your hand like a child. "C'mon, let's go."

"Suki, wait-!"

He wants the whole world to know that yall are together. I take him as the needy type, the type who'd place butterfly kisses on your neck and shoulders when he pulls you into a random classroom or storage room or behind one of the bleachers.

Huge bouquet of roses with tiny little gifts tucked in between along with a box of your favourite treat and a special little note he wrote himself. You're interrupted in the middle of class by a delivery man who mumbles something about the instructions being ridiculously specific.

In the afternoon, he'll take you to the park and pull out an intricate pair of silver promise rings. "G'nna be a great hero, dollface. 'Cause I can feel it."

Midoriya Izuku

I imagine Izuku as the most giving person so him giving you something like an exclusive All Might plushie that he spent months saving for would be an understatement. He just loves you too much.

He caught you ogling a cute pair of leg warmers the other day when you guys were walking home so of course he got a pair for you.

Lots of handholding that he actually initiates. Whispers of sweet praises in your ears that just corrupt your thoughts. Does he even know what he's doing to you?

"You're so cute, y'know that?" And there you are blushin' so hard, Mina thinks he said something dirty.

Him walking you home and giving you a long hug in front of your door just so he can have a whiff of that shampoo you use. He made a mental note to drop by with a new one and some more shower things you like before the night was out.

Kirishima Eijiro

He stays up until 12 just so that he can photo-dump you across all of his social media platforms. He'll send you a long text paragraph (that took him days to type) with all of the things he loves about you.

Gives you roses and a huge gift bag filled with all of your favourite skin care products and lipglosses. His wallet is crying but nothing compares to the smile you have on your face. You'll make sure to thank him properly afterwards anyways.

Offers to walk you home that afternoon. He's helping you carry all of the gifts you got and you're telling him all about your day, and he doesn't miss the way your eyes light up when you reach a specific topic. You're just the sweetest thing.

Todoroki Shoto

Shows up at your house in the morning with a limo all fancy in your favourite colour and he's like, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Now you feel bad. He wasted money on a limo just to take you to school.

You just know Enji's credit card is paying for all of this and Shoto seems unbothered by spending his father's money.

"Red bottoms?!" you screech, looking at the pair of heels in the box. "Do you not like it? If it's not enough, I could always-" he began, coming up behind you and wrapping a hand around your stomach to pull you closer to him.

"No. I love it but Sho, this is too much." you turn to look at him.

Heterochromatic eyes look into yours affectionately, "For you, I'd say this is a small gift."

You blush, still worried. "What will your father say?"

Shoto scoffs. "He doesn't need to know."

Sorry for any errors lovies but I hoped yall liked this one.

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stevie-petey · 2 months

Text

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 !

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.

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]

⌑ series masterlist

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #nya #m's writing #WE HERE !!!!#ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT #THEN WE ONTO FOUR !!!

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lowkeyrobin · 26 days

Note

helloo!! i was wondering if maybe you could write a Five Hargreeves x Reader when five just absolutely ADDORRESS the reader? it doesnt matter whats the situation, whats the backstory for it, i just NEED a lovesick fool five🙏

I ALSO ABSOLUTELY LOOVVVEEE YOUR WRITING ITS SOOOO GOOODD!!!!💞💞💞

nah I agree with this it's slightly ooc but idgaf he would be lovesick if he didn't experience so much trauma in his life TELL ME IM WRONG. /hj ; and thank you!!! I appreciate it <3 ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; I tried to make this as long as possible so I'm sorry if it's short as hell 💔

FIVE HARGREEVES ; lovesick

summary ; five is lovesick as hell

warnings ; language

word count ; 345

masterlist

Five adored you. He was completely infatuated, head over heels for you.

"I want you so badly it might kill me"

That's how he asked you out.

You could never do wrong in his eyes. You were a work of art in them. You were the Francoise Pilot to his Pablo Picasso.

He's even worse when he's drunk. Especially when there's no hope to save the world one last time. He's a touchy drunk around you, acting like a cartoon character with bubbles popping out of his lips when he burped.

He's a fool for you, even when he doesn't want to be.

But it's alright.

man he just fell in love at first sight

he couldn't help but admire everything you did, you moved smooth like butter

when he's not busy saving the world, he's surprising you with gifts / being very lovey dovey

he's a big physical affection person when he's lovesick

he literally daydreams of kissing you all day

he's actually obsessed

and it annoys his siblings

"y/n-"

"shut the hell up, five"

he's very overprotective of you

but not in a like stalker weird way, he's just concerned mostly

he doesn't wanna lose you cause he knows shit can flip at any second

he's genuinley the sweetest

yall have that old people love (cause I mean u kinda r old ppl cmon)

you sip hot tea on the porch swing in the morning to watch the sunrise

you live in a little cottage core home in middle of no where pennsylvania

he built your dreams dude 💔💔

think those few lines in miranda lamberts the house that built me

"mama cut out houses of pictures for years, from better homes and garden magazines. plans were drawn and concrete poured, nail by nail, board by board, daddy gave life to mama's dream"

if you get it you get it

I live / grew up in rural PA don't ask ab the country music

cause you'd definitely listen to the soft country type of music when baking in the kitchen or picking strawberries in the greenhouse together

#lowkeyrobin #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #five hargreeves oneshot #five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #aiden gallagher x reader #tua x reader #the umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy x reader #lovesick! five

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k0yaz · 1 month

Note

Hi love 💕 May I request comfort/fluff one shot Arlecchino x fem Reader who developed a terminal illness a few years back and is now often bedridden but is getting better however Arlecchino is still super overprotective of her

white light.

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, terminally ill reader, angst, but there’s comfort yay I know yall love this, LOTS of mentions of death, like a ridiculous amount, dw reader doesn’t die but grim reaper bullies us every chance he gets like damn, or is the grim reaper a she, that means my friend is immortal since if death is a woman it’ll never come for them, sorry off topic, very soft arle, yes we love our soft king walskskfj, why is the shower so cold help me, not proofread.

A/N: THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE AND IT TURNED OUT SO NICE HOLY also, school is starting soon so I might have to go on break in couple months but no worries I can find some time to write and it’ll be a while into the year until i actually need a break yk <3 🕯️

The fluffy layered clouds hovering in the sky slowly parted themselves to reveal illuminating gleams of sunlight pouring into the room through the window curtains situated to the right of your bed. Slow gusts of wind began to join the warmth of the gold light, brushing along your skin and causing an array of goosebumps to bloom along your arm. You were lucky. Not too long back, your immobile body was enveloped into the same bed, a sickly hue painting your face as your pale tinged lips could only part to cough out a few strained noises.

Perhaps the gods had took pity on you? You supposed you’d never figure out the answer as to how your body curved back from a terminal illness in its final stage. It was supposed to be incurable, and your body back then seemed to agree with what should have been. You were dangerously dangling right above the realm of death, only a hair apart from succumbing to your imminent demise. The doctor who noted your worsening state only had a strike of pity in her voice whenever she’d inform Arlecchino of your current condition, shaking her head as the words: “she won’t make it.” muffled through the door seperating your room from the outside.

It hurt to hear. Not for you per say, but more to hear the emptiness in Arlecchino’s voice when she attempted to dismiss the doctor’s words coldly. She didn’t want to hear that. She didn’t want to hear that your condition was only drawing you closer and closer to death, she wanted to hear that you atleast had a small chance of surviving. As much as she tried to choke back the bitter pain in her unwavering voice, she always clung onto that small sliver of hope deep down, internally calling out to a sea of nothingness in hopes that something would come help you.

Sudden news of your recovery, or rather your condition suddenly improving one day was nothing short of a miracle. It shouldn’t have been possible at all. You were around the final month mark, your entire body burning with an agonizing rush of soreness as you wanted to plead for death to take you away from the unbearable discomfort searing every limb of your ghastly and thin form. That night you had gone to bed, hoping to escape the aching pain of your illness eating away at you. That was when you saw it. You dreamt of a faint glow of white light—or was it a slight pale yellow? The dream was vague and confusing, and held no meaning at all. The light simply danced in circles before you as your life trajectory seared across your eyes.

However, the dream must have meant something.

The next morning you had awoken, your body feeling much lighter all of a sudden, as you had the strength to now sit up completely. Hands carefully massaging the thick blanket draped over your lap, you blinked in confusion upon realizing that you were indeed alive and able to sit up. Sure, you were still incapable of moving around or sitting up for long, but originally, you weren’t even able to raise your body a quarter of the way up, as it would simply result in your spine slamming back into the sunken, comfortable mattress.

When the doctor made her way into the room, performing her checkups which she believed to be futile and tragic, her initial expression of sorrow shifted to one of quick shock. This shouldn’t have been even the slightest bit possible. Arlecchino’s reaction was all the more endearing the moment the newly discovered news made its way to her. You’d never forget the rare smile of pure relief and happiness crossing her usually stoic front, seeming as if Arlecchino was glowing in that moment.

She had attempted to clear her throat and position herself upright, concealing the internal delight bubbling in her mind at that moment. The door had softly creaked open, the sway of the old hinges on your bedroom door being the only noise, along with the quiet howls of wind, resounding within the cell of a room that held your life by a mere thread.

You simply sat there, your scrawny form nearly engulfed by the heavy blankets cascaded onto your lap as the light livened the hue of your face. And when that sweet smile made its way onto your lips weakly upon seeing the harbinger hover before your bed, Arlecchino had to suppress every urge of hers to hem you between her arms in a tight hug and never let go. She wanted to embrace you with every drop of love and affection lingering in her heart as her blackened hands tightened into your back, like a promise to never let you go. Since then, your condition had steadily improved. Months passed, and then years. At this very moment, you now had the ability to walk around and perform minor tasks adequately, yet you still remained bedridden for the majority of your time.

A light pain slowly overtook the side of your chest abruptly, drawing out a few heavy coughs from your throat as your palm pushed against your left breast in an attempt to soothe the throb pushing and pulling against your heart. Quiet ticks of the clock seemed to inch in sync with the rugged beats of your heart, both echoing throughout the room in a sort of twisted harmony. Although your condition had gotten better, storms of weakness and coughs would still persist through, as this was quite a serious illness you suffered from.

The silk white blankets enveloped your limp frame, cascading over your body and situated slightly below your chest, while the back of your head burrowed into the pillows to bask in the favorable comfort enshrouded around every outline of your lounged body. Your chest rhythmically rose and fell as you choked out a few labored breaths, still clenching your fingers against the fabric of your loose shirt covering your chest.

Your vision suddenly started a gradual spin, objects within your range slowly drawn out of focus, and not taking long for the spin to pick up the pace as your vision suddenly shifted to a bleary mess of the room. Head tilting back, you rasped out a line of shaky breaths as the frightening episode of dizziness quickly subsided as soon as it began, causing a sense of panic to rush through you briefly while your chest rose and fell in uneven motions from your initial fright. In that very moment, a small screech of wooden hinges caught your attention, your head carefully raising as to not incite any possible negative reaction from your sensitive body.

Swift and heavy clicks of heels prodded across the room, a sound you’d recognize anywhere even if you were miles away. You raised your head barely even level to the headboard, delivering Arlecchino a feeble smile as her eyes softened upon meeting yours. Slowly, you took her hand into yours, palm resting over the top of her defined knuckles as your thumb circled along the cursed gradient of her hands gently. She could only breathe out a grateful sigh, her head dropping in a restful state as she rested herself onto your shoulder affectionately.

“Are you feeling any better?” She almost immediately questioned, her usually composed eyes having a flicker of concern dashed across them. Her eyes wandered along your frail body, the hints of worry still subtly etched onto her face as her grasp on your hand below hers grew increasingly taut and stiff as she awaited your answer. As much as you wanted to chuckle and tell her you were okay, you clearly couldn’t even say that much.

“Hm. Same as usual. Can’t move my legs well today, but I’ll live.” You casually answered, not taking in the impact your words might have placed onto Arlecchino.

Live.

She was so glad you were able to live.

Arlecchino suddenly dragged her teeth along each other, her mouth remaining closed as the grit of her teeth quietly bounced off of her cheek into her eardrums. It took everything she had to swallow back that wretched feeling boiling up to her throat, her heart wrenching and flooding with discomfort upon hearing the way you threw your life around so casually in your words. She had always been extensively protective over you ever since your condition deteriorated, yet it grew exponentially once you began to recover over the years. She’d always tend to you, sometimes never leaving your side for hours on end as she’d just sit there, head lowered and lips pushed against your frail hand.

Her grip on your hand tensed noticeably, making you shift your eyes up to her lowered dark gaze, staring off into an endless abyss as her expression just seemed…soulless and empty at the mere thought of your passing away. She was afraid. Afraid that just when she believes that her beloved would live despite being in poor condition, she’d walk into your room one day to discover your heart dead still, body completely limp and deceased.

The thought of that made her hand noticeably quiver between yours, disturbing images of your possible sudden death plaguing her mind like a broken subliminal record trying to shatter her soul by tearing away the one person she loves most in this cruel world. It was indeed cruel, as this very world had targeted the reaper to loom over the side of your bed at all times, carefully awaiting the moment to take you away from Teyvat. Arlecchino internally cursed herself at the idea that perhaps this punishment was because of her. She wanted you to be spared. You weren’t the one with blood on your hands, she was.

Despite her agonizing thoughts gnawing at the back of her mind, your sudden firm grip on her hand made her head snap back up abruptly, eyes locking onto your thin fingers cupping her shaky hand in place. If she could, Arlecchino would cry at this very moment, allow herself to shed a couple tears. Yet she knew she couldn’t. She didn’t want to worry you any further, especially in your current state.

“Arle, I’m staying. Please, don’t worry about me. I am better now, right?”

“I know. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t around.”

It was evident that Arlecchino had a difficult time a few years ago, when you were announced to die in under a couple months. She had to mentally prepare herself to lose you soon. She was used to it, you were just another person in her life that slipped away too soon, right?

But she couldn’t.

She couldn’t bear losing you. It was too much even for her.

Arlecchino needed you in her life, and she’d wipe out the entirety of the world just to keep you safe.

Your hand reached up to graze along the skin of her cheek, smiling as she instinctively leaned into your touch. Her eyes fluttered shut as she held your hand in place against her cheek, opening her eyelids once more to gaze at you lovingly with red x-marked eyes.

“Hey Arle, I’m still not feeling the best today…so do you think you could-“

You didn’t even get a chance to finish your hesitant sentence as she lowered herself onto the side of your bed, squeezing herself next to you as her arms gently circled your torso and grasped you against her. You only hummed out a content sigh as you felt your slouched back press to her upright chest, the difference in your postures just making the moment oddly romantic and sweet. Arlecchino’s face buried into your shoulder, intaking a soft inhale as if she missed your scent clouding her senses every time she was close to you.

It didn’t take long for you to drift off to sleep in Arlecchino’s arms as you curled up into the warm blankets piled over both of you. Arlecchino, still awake, quietly shifted her weight onto her side to glance down at you, smiling softly upon seeing your peaceful rested expression. Maybe finally, she rinsed the lingering blood splattered on her hands that led you to this awful fate. She’d rinse it a thousand times if it meant that you would remain safe like this for as long as you lived.

However in this very moment? Arlecchino had forgotten every sense of dread clawing at her constantly, instead focusing on your huddled up form engulfed between her protective grasp.

She swore that she would never let you go again, and she would treasure every inch of you. Not even death can do you two part.

A/N: omg I kept switching between being proud of this and being not so proud bc I had to stop midway through and I lost my train of thought AUUUSHSHDBFN anyway yayayayashshdhd I loved writing this so much AND CALM DOWN ON THE ARLE REQUESTS HOLY SH-

ok bye I’m gonna go on character ai cause I can’t sleep to bed

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heartlogan · 1 month

Text

living to lose

✮— logan x f!mutant!reader (set in worst wolverine’s universe)

✮— summary: logan won’t wear the suit.

✮— a/n: this is gonna be kinda short, but i am in <3 w the concept. (i wrote this in less than an hour bro) i haven’t seen this before so .. lmk if yall want a longer version . perhaps a series ? if yall do, let me know what power reader should have !! and perhaps a nickname 🫡

✮— warnings: DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE SPOILERS, humans vs mutants, and all the prejudice that comes with that, talk of mutants being killed for being mutants etc, xmen bonding, angst, canon typical violence (kinda? mentioned?), logan being stubborn, lmk if theres more!

masterlist | part two

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

Life in the X-Mansion wasn’t what it once was.

If you were honest, life itself had begun to lose that glow that it once had. You supposed that it was hard to retain it when every day you were faced with the reality that humans wanted you all dead. And sure, it wasn’t like you hadn’t known that before, but each day you saw news stories coming out about mutants killed in the street, the X-Men were called out constantly to assist in human and mutant matters, and were always met with hatred.

You just wished that people could coexist. Would that be so difficult? For the humans to realise that mutants weren’t that much different from themselves, not really. Everyone had the fundamental building blocks of human DNA, mutants just so happened to have the X gene thrown in the mix.

Still, there were positives to life. Such as Logan, for you, because you were pretty sure Scott wouldn’t categorise him as a positive.

There had been something unspoken between the two of you for almost a decade, stretching across hundreds of battles and memories. Neither of you had actually brought yourselves to talk about it, both too afraid of loss.

But every night when he struggled to sleep, he joined you in your own bed. An incredible progression of your relationship, really, because it wasn’t like Logan to actually ask for help. Not that he did much talking on those nights. Every time you needed comfort after a painful mission, he was there, brooding silently at your side. A hand on the small of your back, or around your shoulders, if you were lucky.

He refused to acknowledge his role in your life, or his role on the team, no matter how much everybody begged him to.

The infamous Wolverine was so intimidated by the idea of admitting he cared, so scared that it would turn out like his past relationships, that he couldn’t bring himself to accept his place in your lives. He was stubborn, and wouldn’t allow anybody to have leverage over him.

It was another afternoon call out, a mutant in distress, and humans harassing whoever it was. It was bound to get violent, which was why everybody was suiting up.

“C’mon, Logan, just wear the suit.” You said, brows furrowed as you held the folded suit out towards him, watching him roll his eyes. “You’re a part of the team. Wear it.”

“She’s right, Logan.” Storm agreed, already clad in her own suit, much like yourself. It presented a united front, a symbol for other mutants that there was hope out there for them, no matter how dire the world seemed.

“Fuck, no.” Logan responded immediately, voice gruff and dismissive, barely sparing the yellow spandex a glance before he was turning away, grabbing his own jacket from its hanger. “Yellow ain’t my colour, bub.” He grumbled when he felt your eyes still on him, practically carving a hole in the back of his head.

“Logan.” You said pleadingly, feeling disheartened. “We all wear it. You’ll look as handsome as you ever do, I swear.” You attempted, although you weren’t naive enough to believe that the almighty Wolverine could have his mind changed via flattery.

He might have admitted, in another life, that you made the yellow work extremely well. That he knew the team looked good in it, looked put together, almost untouchable. But that wasn’t this life. And he refused to let anybody believe he actually wanted to be a part of this godforsaken self-righteous team that named themselves the X-Men. That wasn’t him. It wouldn’t be him.

Scott wandered in, clad in his own suit, matching visor and all. “It’s not gonna work, guys. I’ve tried. Logan’s far too stubborn.” He said, and none of you could see his eyes, but his disappointment was palpable. Logan only grunted in response.

“Fine,” You said, and he could hear the disappointment despite this not being the first time he had denied the suit. It had been a debate for a long while, by now. “I’ll leave it with you. Just in case you change your mind.”

“I won’t.” Logan said, with an air of finality. You said nothing.

The four of you headed out to the distress call not long after, three in cohesive suits, one decidedly not.

It turned into a fight, as most calls do nowadays, which lasted for what felt like ages. You returned, feeling more exhausted than you had in days. The humans only got more violent with time, inventing new and more powerful ways to hurt mutants. Weapons were being developed against mutant-kind with every day that passed, and it wasn’t lost on the X-Men. Your job was only getting harder and harder. And it was taking its toll on all of you.

“‘M goin’ to the bar. You coming?” Logan asked you, standing in front of where you sat on the couch with Storm, both still in your suits and equally tired. He raised his brows at you, indicating that this was a timed offer. You knew he would be out most of the night, getting as drunk as his healing factor would allow him. It wasn’t that kind of night for you.

“No, thanks. I’m gonna stay with the others.” You answered quietly, wanting nothing more than to marinate in your frustration with the rest of the team.

Logan looked at you for a second longer, hesitating for only a moment, before he grunted and stepped away. You could’ve sworn that he looked disappointed, as though he was hoping you would join him, or maybe ask him to stay. But you knew better, had become familiar with the sting of his rejection each time you had asked him to stay.

You wanted him to be a permanent feature of the X-Mansion, to stay after long missions, to not disappear for weeks at a time. You wanted the whole unspoken thing to become spoken at last, even if it hurt, but you knew he wasn’t ready for it. And despite you feeling similarly, feeling that exact same fear he felt, you knew he wasn’t willing to take on the challenge. To try. Hell, he wouldn’t even wear the suit.

If he had asked whether you wanted him to stay, you would’ve said yes without thought. Without hesitation. But Logan wouldn’t put himself in that situation, so he never did ask. He only hesitated. And for you, that wasn’t enough.

He knew it, too, which might have been the worst part of it all.

You watched him leave, heard the slam of the door behind him not long after, and could only sigh to yourself.

“Everything okay?” Storm asked you from the opposite end of the couch, tilting her head towards you from where she had been idly staring at the ceiling. She looked as though she knew the answer, whether she had already known, or had gotten it from the look on your face, though, you weren’t sure.

“D’you think he’ll ever stick around? Wear the suit?” You questioned her in response, fixing your eyes on the fireplace in front of you for a few moments before her silence became too much. You looked at her, confused and slightly concerned.

She looked as downtrodden as you felt, which was saying something. “I… don’t know. I hope so, but… hope is a feeble thing, in this world. I’m not sure it means much anymore.”

Beast wandered in, with Scott at his side, blue fur still singed from a battle a few days prior. “I’m sure he will come around. Logan is a stubborn man, but a good one.” He commented, pushing his glasses further up his nose, but still squinting through them as he found his place in an armchair.

“We’ll see. Maybe we can make an X-Man of him, yet.” Scott added, sinking into the sofa cushion between you and Storm, wearing his glasses rather than his visor, for once. You thought could almost see the shape of his eyes, through the red lens.

“Either way, I’m sure he’ll linger. If not for us, then for those poor kids. We have all seen how much they idolise him.” Storm said, which was true, but still stung slightly. You wished that Logan would linger for you, too, but you knew it wasn’t likely. But for the kids… well, he might just look back for them.

“He’s their hero.” You agreed quietly, before resting your head on Scott’s shoulder. He said nothing, but you felt his quiet appreciation of the touch. The team needed comfort, in times like these, you included. Beast reached over and took Storm’s hand not long after, and you saw her squeeze him in response.

Jean wandered in not too long later, having been busy helping to look after the new mutant in the medbay. You made space for her between you and Scott, and resumed your position on her shoulder. She rested her head on your own, and the five of you breathed quietly, not speaking. There was nothing much to speak about, nothing that could comfort you, anyway. The world continued its descent into chaos and hatred, and despite the X-Men’s best efforts, nothing any of you did would be changing it.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

It was Beast raising the alarm that woke you up, and Jean jolted awake soon after you.

“The humans, they’re here!” He shouted, diving into action, with Storm and Scott following soon after while you and Jean shared a single glance, her eyes filled with terror.

“Get the kids!” You yelled to her, as you jumped from the couch, heading to confront the humans with Scott, Beast and Storm. All the while, you were wondering where Logan was.

It was a thought that remained present in the back of your head, a wish that he was safe, unharmed. You couldn’t decide whether you wanted him to show up, to be the hero all of the kids knew him to be, or whether you wanted him far away, safe from what you were certain would be a lethal encounter.

The humans wouldn’t just come to the X-Mansion lightly. They would be prepared. Armed to the teeth, you were sure. And the moment you caught a glance outside of the window, seeing the crowds outside, glints of machinery and weapons, you knew you were right.

For a moment, you thought you saw him out there, until the two humans stepped apart, shattering the illusion of their shadows. The call of his name died on your lips.

“X-Men, to me.” Scott called out, and his grave expression told you that he had already had the same realisation as you. Most of you, if any at all, wouldn’t be getting out of this alive.

“Together?” Storm questioned, eyes glowing that bright white that only added to her ethereal look. She locked eyes with you, and you nodded firmly.

“Together.”

434 notes · View notes

checosbluespring · 2 months

Text

secrets we keep (pt2) → mv1

max verstappen x perez!fem reader

genre: teammates sister, pregnancy

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (female receiving), p in v, slight possessiveness, dirty talk, pregnancy, childbirth (brief), slight angst?, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything

word count: 6.4k

song: coraźon sin cara-prince royce

sidenote: omg!! finally after 2 monthes i am finally done with part 2 of secrets we keep. this is the last part of the series but if you guys want i could do an epilogue, let me know what yall think. also thank you so so so much for all the positive feedback on this story, you are all amazing. please send in requests and i will do them to the best of my ability! also like true me fastion this is not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3

you can read part one here

♡♡♡♡

It's been three months since you first found out about the baby. You haven't told anyone. Trying your best to hide your newly growing bump. Even though you were scared, you knew you wanted to keep the baby. Even if you had to pack up and leave everything behind, this baby was yours and you were going to be their mom.

It wasn't hard keeping this a secret from your brother, he was halfway across the world but your mom and dad on the other hand were difficult. As time went on you felt as if you couldn't keep it a secret from anyone. You felt alone, you had to go to all your doctors appointments by yourself and it was scary.

You wanted to showcase your pregnancy, wanted a baby shower, to wear long flowy dresses that pronounced your bump. You wanted to start decorating a nursery for the baby. You couldn't do that alone, you needed to tell someone. You needed to tell your mom. But that meant telling them that you would be a single parent. Not that there's anything wrong with that but you know that's not what your family envisioned for you. You couldn't keep doing this alone though. You are about to find out the sex of the baby and you want your whole family to be there.

Making your way to your parents house, you see your brother's car in the driveway. You don't panic right away because you assume it's carola bringing the kids over to visit. When you walked in you shouted “mamá estoy en casa” mom I'm home. You miss living with them but you visit almost every other day, so really it's like you never left.

Walking through the house you hear no-one, but as you make your way through the kitchen to the back patio you see your brother. “Ay dios mio” oh my god, you scream and practically run into Sergio’s arms.

“Hola hermanita” hi baby sister, he says while hugging you back. You blame it on the pregnancy hormones but you start crying. “Hey, qué pasa?” What's wrong? He asked in a worried tone. You don’t know what overcame you but you felt the sudden urge to tell them.

“¿Puedes sentarte con mamá y papá?” Can you sit with mom and dad? It’s just the four of you at the house. The sooner you get this done, the sooner you can start living life. Your mom and dad look worried, you don’t want to scare them so you just blurt it out.

“Mamá, papá, sergio, estoy embarazada” mom, dad, sergio, I’m pregnant. Nothing would prepare you for the looks on their face. Your mom and dads jaw on the floor, your brother's jaw clenched.

“Hablas en serio” are you serious, your dad spoke up. All you can do is nod. “Who’s the dad? How did this happen” your mom said in English. You knew she was shocked because she hardly ever used English when it was just the 4 of you. It’s not like you weren’t expecting them to ask who the father was. But you hadn’t quite thought of who you were going to tell them. Because there is no way you are going to tell them about Max, they would kill you. Sergio would look at you differently.

“I-i-i, I can’t tell you who it is because he doesn’t matter, he doesn’t want to be a father right now and I won’t put him in the position to do so. I want this baby because I know I have you guys to help support and love me. This baby is going to be so loved, it doesn’t need a dad because they are going to have sergio and dad being a great role models for them. Mom, I need your love and guidance right now more than anything in the world. I am still your daughter, I want you to love this baby no matter what, no matter who their dad is, or how they were conceived” you said while big tears rolled down your face.

Segio was the first to move and give you a hug, whispering “I always got you”. He leans back and places a hand on your stomach, “seré un tío” I am going to be an uncle.

You nod and smile. Your mom and dad look perplexed but they make their way to you and both give you a kiss on the cheek and a hug. “No puedo esperar para conocerte bebé'' I can’t wait to meet you baby, your mom said while holding your stomach. You know it’s going to take some time for your dad to come around to the idea but he’s supportive and that’s all that matters.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　 ✦

Over the next couple of weeks you finally start getting stuff ready for the baby. Buying stuff for the nursery and clothes for yourself. Right after your brother found out about the pregnancy he took you to the store and had you pick out a crib you liked. You were forever grateful to have him.

It’s Friday morning and you are patiently waiting for your mom and carola to pick you up for your ultrasound appointment, where you would be finding out if you are having a boy or girl. You are beyond excited. You don’t care what you have, as long as the baby is healthy and happy.

Getting up to put your shoes on, you hear your phone ring, assuming it’s your mom and sister in law telling you that they are ready for you to come out. You look at your phone and see it’s a text from a random number. Something in the universe is telling you not to open it, but you do.

Hey y/n. It’s max. I just wanted to text you and see how you are. I know it’s been a couple of months since we last talked, but I feel like you are avoiding me. I take part of the blame too. I should have reached out but I was expecting to see you in Miami but you weren’t there. Is it because of me? I promise I’ll leave you alone if it is. I just want to make sure you are okay. I hope to see you at the Mexico GP in the next few months. Please text me if you ever need anything. I’m here for you.

You don’t realize the way your eyes are stinging with tears until after you are done reading the text. A pang of guilt and sadness washes over you. You want to be so mad at max for texting you, but you know he has no idea, and he’s just trying to be nice. Your heart physically hurts, it’s like your baby knows it’s missing a piece of something. You remind yourself though that you are strong, so is this baby, and max is just getting started with his career. He does not need you or a baby weighing him down.

Jolting you out of your thoughts, you hear the car horn signaling you to walk out the door. You can’t dwell on max, he’s a distant memory. All you should be focusing on is this baby. No matter how bad it hurts not having the father of your child around.

Once at the doctors office, you are laying down with your belly exposed and cold gel covering every inch. “Do you want to know the sex of the baby?” You nod eagerly and hold your moms hand.

“Ooo they are hiding from me, come on baby let’s see what you are” finally finding a good position, the doctor takes a few pictures and says “congratulations mama, it looks like you are having a girl”. You look over to see your mom crying and Carola recording everything. “I’m having a baby girl” you kept repeating to yourself. You have never felt more happy.

When you are home alone, you start to think of the life you and your daughter will have. How you are going to homeschool her, and travel everywhere together. But your mind drifts to what could have been if max was involved. You had no doubt that max would be the best dad. He would be devoted and loving. A good father. He would take your daughter all over, putting her in karting right away but ultimately letting her choose her own path. Stop y/n, you tell yourself, those are dreams that won’t be coming true but you and your family will provide the best life for your baby girl.

All you can do is be thankful and happy, you want to embrace pregnancy in the next 5 months. You ultimately decide it’s best not to text max back, not to add fuel to the fire. You hope as time goes on you are able to accept the fact that max won’t be a part of this journey.

Months have passed, leaving you in your third trimester with little under eight weeks until you meet your precious baby. Pregnancy has been tough but also so rewarding, you can finally feel her little kicks, especially when you are watching your brother race on tv, subconsciously you wonder if she gets so excited because she sees her dad but then you tell yourself to stop being so delusional and she doesn't even know who her father is.

The Mexico GP is today and you have already told your entire family you aren't going. It would be too risky for the baby, but in reality it's too risky for max to see you. There was no more hiding your pregnancy. No matter how big the shirt or hoodie is, you can still see your bump. It’s better you stay home and just wait for everyone to come back.

Kicking your feet up, you turn on the tv and watch the start of the race. You see the crowds filled with your brother's face, and his number along with max’s. Sergio had a great start, pushing to the front of the grid, having him leading the race. Max followed closely behind him.

The race after the start was uneventful. Your brother won and you were extremely sad you didn't get to be there to congratulate him in person. Max was second and then Oscar, it was a good podium in your eyes.

You patiently wait for your entire family to come home including your brother. You knew that would be hours though, so you decided to take a nap on the couch. That nap ended up being a five hour nap and when you opened your eyes you saw it was dark out. Something woke you up though and it was the sound of the front door of your parents house unlocking. Sitting up you get ready to jump into your brother's arms to congratulate him. One by one your family walks in, mom, dad, carola, the kids, sergio, and then max.

You feel your heart drop to your stomach, you have to think quickly. He may find out you are pregnant but your family doesn't need to know that. Walking confidently over to your brother you pull him into a hug and say “felicidades hermano estoy muy feliz por ti” congrats brother I am so happy for you. You have yet to acknowledge that max is even standing in your familys living room with his mouth agape. Sergio hugs you back and says a quiet thank you.

“¿Por qué está Max en la casa?” Why is max at the house? You say to your brother hoping max did not catch any of that. But your brother had a different idea.

“Max wanted to come see the house and the city so we offered to let him stay the night and we can take him sightseeing tomorrow!”

You nod your head and walk over to him, extending your hand out for him to shake. “Welcome max, and congrats on the podium” you say. There was no way he didn't see your stomach. You were wearing a tiny tank top that you practically spilled out of. You know he's not going to say anything to you in front of your family. So maybe if you went to your room and ignored him this whole thing would blow over.

You should know better than that though. Because your family loved to bring up the fact that you are pregnant. You couldn't blame them, they had no idea that the father of the baby was 2 feet away from them.

Your mom was the first to speak up. “How is the baby Amor, did you get to rest or did she keep you up”. Well now he knows it's a girl. A part of you wanted to go cry in a corner but another part wanted to dote on your daughter no matter what. “No she has been really content today, during the race when she saw you sergio she got so happy, she was moving all over the place”.

A big smile formed on your brother's face, “that's my niece, she couldn't wait to see her uncle win”. You take a sneakily look over to max and he looks confused, hurt, and tired. You can't deal with this, you have to excuse yourself. You are going to tell them you have to go back to your house, even though you have been spending the last week sleeping over at your parents.

“Guys I think I am going to drive back to my apartment, that way max can sleep in my room” you say hoping you came off as convincing

“Nonsense, I can sleep on the couch” max is quick to reply.

Your dad is next to reply “you can't leave in the middle of the night, you are 8 months pregnant, you can't be alone”.

You don't have the energy to fight them so you bid them a goodnight and head to your room, hoping you don't get a visitor late in the night. Oh how could you be so wrong.

Tossing and turning in your bed you can't fall asleep, maybe it was the nap, maybe it was because your baby's father was 10 feet away from you. You don't know if it's the hormones but you want him, it's like a primal urge. Like you have been separated for so long and he just suddenly came back and he looked good. His hair is long, a tiny bit of stubble growing on his cheeks.

You have to sleep but you can't. You look at your phone and it's 3 in the morning, max has to be asleep right, it was an exhausting race. He wouldn't wake up right? If you go out to make yourself some tea.

You hate yourself for it but part of your subconscious wants him to ask, but you know deep down that would be the worst possible idea. Throwing your feet off the bed you stand up unsteadily and start to slowly walk out of your room. Max looks like he’s asleep as you pass the couch. Once in the kitchen you turn on the small light next to the oven and start to make yourself some tea.

Once done with putting everything away you turn around to grab your drink but see a sleepy looking max walk over to you. You don't mean to sound hostile but you do when you say “why are you up”. This was the man you loved, the father of your baby, but you were angry, at yourself or at him, you didn't know.

“I could ask you the same question” he responded. “I couldn't sleep, so I needed to get myself some tea, goodnight max”. You begin to walk away and as you walk past him he grabs your arm and says “wait, we need to talk”. Shit you've been caught, you think to yourself.

“About what?” Maybe if you play dumb he will also and ignore everything.

“You know about what y/n, don't play dumb, it's not a good look on you” max says with a snarl and strong grip on your forearm. The authoritativeness of his voice and demeanor sends chills down your spine.

“Okay, but not here” you whisper. Grabbing his hand you wander outside to the patio where no one can hear you from inside the house. You sit down and let max talk.

“So. You're pregnant?”

“Yes” is all you can say

“Your dad said you're eight months pregnant, so either you were pregnant when we slept together, or that baby is mine. Which is it y/n?”

“I - I, it's none of your business max, this baby and I were fine before this and we will be fine long after you leave” you stutter out.

“So she is mine, god damnit y/n, why didn't you tell me? I've lost 8 months of your pregnancy. Were you ever going to tell me?”

Guilt is eating away at you and you feel tears burning your eyes.

“I didn't think you would want anything to do with the baby max, you and I live completely different lives. You are you max, having a baby is a big responsibility. Do you know how hard it is for carola? She has four babies. She has to take them on planes all over the world so they can see their dad. How could I raise a baby with you, when we hardly know each other? When you don't even want to be with me? Tell me max, how would that work?”

“That's not your decision to decide on your own. How could you hide this from me? I could have been there for you, I could have been the one taking you to doctors appointments. Who knows?”

“Who knows what?”

“Who knows I’m the dad?”

“No one, I told them it doesn’t matter who the father is”

“I can’t believe you y/n, now everyone is going to think I’m some deadbeat dad who doesn’t want to be a part of their baby’s life. Well to hell with that, no more secrets. I am going to raise this baby and we are going to do it together” he said.

All you can do is nod your head and whisper out an “okay max, no more secrets”

“And who said I didn’t want to be with you?”

This catches your attention, because you hoped he would have ignored you when you said that. But of course he didn’t, max is the most observant person you've ever met.

“Max you have no idea how long I’ve been in love with you. Long before you and segio even became teammates, I yearned for you. But I refuse to trap you into staying with me just because I am having your baby”

“Again y/n that’s not your decision to make, do you think I would have slept with you if I didn’t have feelings for you. What kind of guy do you think I am? Y/n I don’t know where we stand on us being together but we are both the parents and I know we care for eachother. I will move to Mexico if I have to, but you are not going to keep this baby out of my life”

“I understand max, but what are we going to do when the press find out? Do you really want your daughter under that scrutiny? How are we going to tell our families? I’m sure my brother and your father are gonna be really fond of the idea of us having a baby together”

“Y/n you are not listening to me, none of that matters, who cares what anyone says. If your brother decides to punch me so be it, but that’s not going to stop me from being a loving and present dad, I’m not going to be like my father”

Something snaps inside of you, a need to reassure him and be close to him. You stand up and grab both his hands.

“Of course you aren’t going to be like your father, you are an amazing person, I didn’t keep this pregnancy a secret because I thought you would be a bad dad, I did it because I was scared of everything else. You don’t know how much I wished you were at the doctors appointments with me holding my hand. Going shopping to buy clothes and bottles. Some nights I would cry myself to sleep knowing our daughter would grow up not having you in her life. Taking her karting, protecting her, chasing her around that paddock. So don't ever think I hid her from you because I thought you were going to be a bad dad. It was me who was scared of how everyone would react and what they would say when they found out their precious max verstappen would have a child out of wedlock”.

Max pulls you into a hug, and for once in these past 7 months of pregnancy you felt like you could finally breathe.

“I’m going to protect you guys no matter what” he muttered into your hair.

The baby was excited, maybe because she knew her dad was finally with us. She was kicking up a storm.

“Max feel, she’s so happy you are here” you say as you grab his hand and place it on your tummy.

“She’s strong, maybe she will want to play football one day” he says with a smile.

“Let’s go to bed, we can talk more tomorrow” grabbing his hand you lead him to your bedroom.

Laying down on your side, max lays behind you and places a hand over your stomach. You sleep the best you have in a very long time.

Telling your family that max was the father of your baby went as well as you would think. No glasses were broken, no bleeding, there were some strong words shared but honestly you expected that.

As max was taking a shower, you sat in the living room waiting for everyone to come out to leave. Your brother plops down next to you and says “you know you could have told me”

“I couldn’t sergio, I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me”

“Y/n you are my sister, you always come first before my career, I could never be disappointed in you. Grossed out a little? Yeah. But never disappointed.”

You find yourself laughing and laying your head on his shoulder. You don’t know how you got so lucky to have a family so supportive.

Being with max is like a breath of fresh air. You didn’t know how bad you actually needed him, and now that you actually have him, you aren’t sure you can let go.

He jumped into his role of father to be fast and efficiently, much like he does with everything else. Before he left back to Monaco, he asked if he could go to a doctor's appointment with you and of course you said yes. You did make him wear a mask and hoodie to help disguise him.

Your doctor was surprised to see you come with a man, as you thought she probably assumed you were doing this alone.

“Who is this?” She asks with a smile and extends her hand out for max to shake.

Just as you were about to say a friend. He beats you to the punchline.

“Hello, I am the father of the baby, sorry it’s taken so long for us to meet, my work schedule keeps me busy” You smiled and grabbed his hand.

The rest of the appointment was smooth, the exciting part was the ultrasound. Max was by your head, watching tentatively at the screen.

“Baby girl looks good, has a fast little heart beat, height and weight are all in range, let’s take a listen to her” the doctor says as she allows us to hear the echoes of the baby’s heartbeat. This wasn’t new to you, but you never got over the fact that you were growing another life in you. You look over and see max in absolute awe. If you look close enough you actually think you see a tear in his eye. He grips your hand tight and says “her heart beat is so fast and strong, oh my god I can’t believe we are actually seeing her, doctor can I please have an ultrasound picture”. You are shocked he asked her for one, but for some reason his asking really reassured you that he was in this for the long haul, even if you guys weren’t a couple.

The appointment wraps up with the doctor giving us a couple ultrasound pictures and instructions to not travel, as you might actually deliver within the next couple of weeks if not sooner.

As you are driving home with max you ask what he thought. “Y/n that was amazing, I can’t believe we are having a little girl. She’s so big and strong already, do you have any names you think? I know we have a lot of stuff to discuss but after seeing her, everything seems like it’s going to work out. I will do whatever I have to, to keep you and her safe”.

You feel the words get stuck in your throat, all you can do is nod and say “it’s going to be the greatest experience you and I have ever accomplished. As for names, I have a couple in mind but I want your input. I have always really liked the name Alejandra or Catalina. but I want her to have a part of your culture in her name as well”. You look over to him to see a satisfied smile resting upon his face.

“I think those are great names, she will have a part of me in her last name, so whatever first name you want, I am happy to go along with it”.

Life feels really good right now. The sun is shining, and even though you and max are not together in the way you want, you will both work together to provide your daughter a happy life.

Max takes you back to your place. As you both walk in, you wash your hands and proceed to plop down on the couch, not bothering to take off your shoes. Max notices and kneels in front of you to unlace your laces, slowly taking them off. You don’t know if it’s the hormones but the tiniest of touch was leaving you with butterflies in your stomach.

“Thank you max” you muttered.

“What kind of partner would I be if I wasn’t able to do this for you” your heart skips a beat when he says the word partner.

Once finished he stands to look down at you. “You know y/n, pregnancy suits you. You look so pretty with our baby growing in you”. You can’t help but blush at the compliment. Starting to feel a heat overtake your body. You wanted him, but you couldn’t let him know that.

It’s like he could read your mind though. “Do you know I think about our night together often, every time before bed I touch myself thinking about your body and how it felt. Ever since being in Mexico, everytime I shower I get myself off thinking of you. Seeing you so domestic, barefooted, pregnant, not a care in the world, It makes me feral for you. I crave you y/n, do you feel the same?”

If it was easy for you to get up from the couch you would have pounced on him in a second. But instead he understands and grabs both of your arms, hoisting you up so you are standing in front of him. “Max, do you know how difficult it has been for me to not kiss you, grab you, love you this past week, I want you so bad, I want to be yours forever and always”

That's all max needs to hear before he grabs your face leading you into a kiss. It's a little awkward because of your big belly but you guys make it work. You can't stop kissing him. Things get heated very fast, teeth clashing, lips being bitten, hair being pulled. Max leads you to your bedroom where he takes off his shirt then yours. You hadn't worn a bra that day so he immediately went to grab your tits, worshiping them.

“God, your tits are amazing, they are so massive, presented to me, ready for me to take and devour”

You moan in response when you look down to see max leaving feather-like kisses around your nipples. When he hears your moan he pops one of your nipples into his mouth and begins to suck. While it all felt so good, you wanted him in you and he could tell you were growing impatient.

Popping off, he leads you to the bed and makes you sit. Your face now level with his crotch. You take this opportunity to start to unbuckle his belt and shimmy his pants and underwear off. Just as you are about to take him into your mouth, he stops you.

“Not today darling, today is about you, and I want to taste you, I've been dreaming about it for months”

He lays you back gently, pulling off your pants and underwear you feel the slightest insecure at being so exposed. In response you try and close your legs but he doesn't let that stop him. He separates them open with his hands, kneeling in front of you.

“Don't hide from me baby, let me make you feel good” max says as he looks up at you for confirmation.

You nod, and prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see what he's doing. Quite honestly you can't really see him because your belly is in the way but you do make eye contact with him as he makes his way down.

He licks a fat stripe right on your heat, it sends shocks of pleasure coursing through you. Max proceeds to kiss along the sides of your thighs, teasing you.

“Max, babe, please” you beg out.

“Is my girl needy for me? You're mine right? No one else, just mine. Say it y/n, tell me you are mine”

He has barely touched you and you already feel so fucked out. You manage to get the words out though “yes max I'm yours, only yours, I only have ever wanted you”. That seems to satisfy him because his mouth is on your clit in seconds. Taking his time between licking and sucking the bundle of nerves. It felt euphoric, max didn't get a chance to go down on you the first time you guys had sex, but now that you've got a taste of what his mouth could do, you don't know how you could ever let it go.

Sucking hard on your clit, he takes the opportunity to stick his middle finger in you. Slowly working you open, not that you need it, you are dripping in arousal. Your moans are filling up the room, max adds a second finger in you, curling up, creating something you have never felt before. The way his fingers moved inside of you, the way his mouth devoured you. It felt so good, you felt bad because you were pulling his hair, practically moving his face.

“Fuck, max your mouth feels so good”.

Max takes his mouth off of you and says “you taste so good y/n, I could eat you out for hours on end”

You never pegged max to be a man practically starved for pussy but here you are, and you are grateful that he is. You needed him in you though.

“Amor (love), please come fuck me, I need it so bad”

“How can I say no to my pretty girl, lay on your side”

You shimmy yourself up the bed, laying on your side. Max makes his way beside you, laying down. You take the opportunity to turn your head back and look at him. You see him slowly pumping his cock, about to slide it in you he asks, “Shit, do you want me to wear a condom”

Quite literally you couldn’t want anything less. “No no no, please I want to feel you fill me up. I want to be dripping with your cum”

“Fuck you drive me crazy y/n, you have such a dirty mouth on you.”

You reach back and grab his hip, helping him line himself up with your entrance. He trusts into you in one swift motion, the burn is just like you remember. The stretch is unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Max takes his hand and reaches over to interlock his fingers with yours. No words have been exchanged but you have never felt closer to him than in this moment.

You can’t reach back to kiss him, but he does leave a trail of wet, sloppy, kisses down your neck. You can already tell you aren’t going to last much longer, you have had so much bottled up, you needed a release. Max can tell by the way you are clenching down on him.

“Are you close? Play with your pretty clit for me, I’m right there with you”

You nod vigorously, taking your hand and rubbing between your legs. The next thing you know you feel your climax reach an all time high, and you are cumming all over his cock. You let out the biggest moan and feel your legs shaking. You can feel yourself throbbing, basically begging Max to cum inside you. He grabs your hip hard, you look down and see his knuckles are white, he slams into not once, not twice, but three times and suddenly you feel a warm liquid filling you up. Max groans, placing his face in your neck.

You guys lie there in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the closeness and comfort, because tomorrow he will be leaving back home and you don’t know how you are going to handle it.

Max slowly slides out of you and you feel his seed leaking out of you down your thighs. He kisses your cheek and mutters something about cleaning you up. He comes back in with a wipe and spreads your legs to clean you up. This feels extremely intimate but you allow yourself to be comfortable with it because you deserve to be taken care of.

After everything is sorted, you are both laying down and it’s you who speaks first. “Max, what does this mean”

He takes a deep breath before speaking. “I was mad at you for not telling me, I needed time to process everything, which is why I told you I needed time, but don't ever for a second doubt I didn't want you or the baby. I'm in it for the long run y/n. I’ll follow you both anywhere.”

“I’m sorry max, I can't imagine a life where you and I aren't together”

“You shouldn't be due until the end of the season, so right after the last race i'll pack a couple of bags and stay down here. I was thinking we would spend the first 6 months in Mexico and the next 6 in Monaco. I'll keep paying the house so we can go whenever. When racing starts back up we will figure it out then but im looking forward to having a couple of months with you guys disturbance free”

Your heart warms at the idea of him finding compromises for the both of you. And he was right, we would figure the logistics out as time went on, all that mattered was that you both were on the same page.

Max and Sergio finished the season off strong, and max stayed true to his word. Right after the last race he was on the first plane out to Mexico to join you for the birth.

Quite honestly he came in just enough time because not even two days after his arrival, your water broke.

“Do we have everything packed in the car max” you ask while pacing around the room.

“Yes sweetheart, let's get going”

As you expected max was completely calm and collected, acting as a support system. When the doctor came in and told you, we were ready to push, you got scared and max could sense that. He grabbed your hand and whispered “hey look at me. everything is going to be okay, do you think I would ever let anything happen to you guys? you are so strong and I can’t wait to see our beautiful daughter”

His words of encouragement helped you during the delivery process and before you knew it, your baby girl’s cry’s entered the room.

“Dad, do you want to cut the umbilical cord?” the doctor asked. The sheer look of awe was all over max’s face. You watch as he gently cuts the cord and makes his way back to you. After she is cleaned up they plop her down on your chest and you just take her in. She is the perfect mix of both of you, she has max’s pretty turquoise eyes and your dark hair.

You look up at max and see that he has tears in his eyes.

“She’s so beautiful, she’s perfect y/n and she’s all ours”

You nod because you are at a loss for words at how special this moment is.To think what this would look like right now if you never told him. Looking at both max and the baby, you begin to wonder how lucky you got. This baby started as a secret but ended up being the best thing that could happen to either of you. And you can’t wait to see the life that you and max build together.

♡♡♡♡

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