Closer (series) Ch.i. The Cabin

Closer (series) ch.i. the cabin

Duncan Vizla x F!Reader

when a retired assassin unexpectedly finds love in the heart of a cold and unforgiving winter, will he be able to escape the demons that follow him? Is a pleasurable & quiet life possible when you've fallen for the black kaiser?

rating: E (strictly 18-21+ only) | word count: 3.8k series masterlist

content warnings: a polar story, love, angst, emotional hurt comfort, language, canon typical themes & graphic depictions of injuries & violence, brief mentions of smoking & alcohol, mature consensual established relationship, intimacy, adult content ✨

“Don’t fall in love with me.”

"It’s too late for that.”

Subtle drifts alive in a tinted sheen of white, dust upon the forest floor’s deepest shade of green, towering over a peaceful lake frozen in time by the chill of Winter’s breath, where the recent snowfall has just begun taking shape around the modest cabin where so often you call home.

So soon, the light of the fire had welcomed you there inside, crackling soundly against a freshly chopped wood, surrounding you with an unfamiliar kind of warmth that you had only hoped for; a stoic man – the one you call yours, to be seen there, where tired eyes fall heavily within the lowlight of the room.

The fireplace whispers its softness into your ear, a soothing secret you’d like to hold onto perhaps for the better part of later; the air of night, safeguarding hints of blissful memories all the while there, which you so often tend to hide behind.

It’s usually the tv’s static playing in the background when you arrive; a tape or movie left on all night after sleep has suddenly taken over…

But tonight had been different, Duncan was different; sitting calmly nearest to the pane of glass where frost had collected outside the window, sighing with an exasperated exhale of breath, almost annoyed that his phone had disturbed him there.

“The answer is still no.”

With a temperamental vigor, his pocket sized flip phone slams itself shut; the call ending, just as quickly as it had been answered.

You sit down beside him, the palm of your hand resting there on his shoulder, before your cheek has taken up there; watching as he immediately snaps the phone’s sim card in half, before tossing it into the dust ridden ash tray on the table.

It’s always the same routine – as if he’s entirely used to being called by the same person who seems to demand so much of his time. Yet all he wants is to spend all of it with you, uninterrupted by the drawl of a rented film, an incessant phone call, or the memories that tend to plague him; the sleepless nights, when you aren’t there to comfort him, somehow becoming all at once too much to bear.

"What do they want from you, Duncan?”

“Something I am capable of, but have no interest in doing anymore.”

And somehow, the vagueness of his answers had been enough, at least for now, knowing better than to keep pressing him for things far away from any realm of your understanding.

It’s not like he would let you anyway.

Instead, you ease into a single kiss left behind at his temple; lightened strands of silver hair, tickling at the tip of your nose while his fingertips graze past your cheek as you do.

He picks up a cigarette, one that’s already been lit from some time before; nothing left to the Marlboro nub at its edge, except the last bits of burning ash where he’s placed it between his sharpened lips.

By now, you’ve ended up across the room, waltzing away from him as you eye the way his cheeks hollow out with the slow drag. It takes everything in you not to bite your lip at this, enticing and wrong all at once, but still, you can’t help it; imagining how it is that a man like him could make the simple act of smoking look and feel so desirable, even from so far away.

fuck.

It’s quiet for a while; unable to form words in these passing minutes where all you can do is watch him – no matter how hard you had willed yourself not to.

But it’s the low hum of his voice that soon breaks this wave of silence, saying only but one word in the moment to you.

“Yes?”

Breathless, the pure feeling of it all, suddenly caves in there at your chest, just as soon as you’ve been caught staring, opting for the glass left nearest to his bedside table to occupy your mind instead.

Against your better judgment, you think it’s better off this way; peering up over the chill of its edge, and leaving enough space between you, coating your lips as if giving them something else to do.

It is all in hopes of saving yourself from an impending fall into oblivion; much safer experiencing the Black Kaiser from a distance this way, even though it doesn’t have to be like this at all…

And instinctually, when it comes to your closeness, he too, senses that it shouldn’t be, either.

Then comes more of nothing.

Your thoughts, suddenly going completely wordless.

“Hm.”

His drink’s been sitting there longer than usual while thoughts of his own have been meandering into the intimate space of your fallen in between; seeming to have forgotten about it fast when you had shown up at the door, but by now, you’re the one who’s downed it already…

Gone tenderly in seconds just as soon as you had picked it up, his glacial stare begins to follow your eyes just as selfishly, as the melting ice of it drips from the edge of your lips' glossed over swell.

The satisfying burn of his brand of liquor coats the back of your throat in a pleasurable warmth; licking your lips of all that’s left of the strong scotch flavored honey, before his startling hands have landed heaviest with intent there upon your sides.

They’re exactly where you’ve always wanted them to be, and as if somehow he knows this, he whispers, leaning over the subtle curve of your shoulder…

“Don’t fall in love with me.”

"It’s too late for that.”

The lingering scratch of his dark shadowed stubble catches against your skin then, pebbling it where he’s been marking kisses to your neck in shuddered gasps of breath; living with collapsing into him as if gliding out on air – featherlight and arching, unable to form reasons for why you shouldn't have this.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“No.”

With his chest soon pressed to your back, you can feel the way his sweater feels plush and taut against his muscle from behind; the weight of invisibly scarred hands, hovering something slow and capable as they’ve been sliding over your middle; a newfound courage, taking over at the insistent rolling of your hips onto him.

Flush and hard, he breathes you in; indulging in the magnolia of your scent, his eyes closed into calming, as the inviting gravel tone of his voice encases you intensely in the room.

“This is no life for you.”

“Convince me then…”

“I can’t."

Melded there together where you lay inside his arms, the thick strain of his cock hits hard against the shape of you where you want him most; a satisfied groan, drawn outwards from his chest where he lifts a practiced hand into cradling you.

It is there that he becomes devoid of self control, taking all of you there with him.

"You cant? Or don't want to?"

Something hurried and swift happens when he doesn't care to indulge you any further; legs wrapping themselves around him tightly then, all because you don't seem to either. A sudden push enlivened by the slotting of your lips and hands, bringing you into him nearer, where so soon you’ve ended up roughly on top of his table.

And he grins; a softened word escaping around the languid circle of his tongue, and your muffled gasps of breath, trying his absolute best to convince you of it.

“Apologies.”

A rich white shirt is all that’s left upon him now; his belt undone, and his pants falling haphazardly around his knees. It’s unlike him not to have considered the time, but he’ll get there eventually; discarding the rest of his clothes in their swift abandon, only after yours have met with his sweater now lying on the floor…

You help him the rest of the way, when your affection begins to find its overwhelming ease into such a perfect rhythm; the warmth of your bare skin bleeding into his chest where he now falls into you so indelicately.

The slow drag of his thrusts drag into you something smooth, and deep, a heated coming together that so often you both find yourselves lost inside. It happens when he firmly cups the underside of your breast with the palm of his hand, paying careful attention to their aroused peaks; tweaking them between his fingertips, before grasping impatiently at your thighs.

His need to feel you overshadows anything that’s ever haunted him there before; leaning down to envelop you in a kiss so fervently – the softened whine he’s just stolen from you there, only further igniting the flame inside his chest.

And as if blinded by the way your lips fall open in their silent reach for air, his leg lifts heavily upon the wooden surface of the table; greedily fucking into you harder at this new angle, where knives, and scattered pens, wildly clang against one another.

Your heady moans fill the clouded confines of his headspace, chasing after his concentrated charge with pleading eyes that only want him to unravel sooner.

But as much as you love him this way – so heated and entangled, the courageous roll of your hips wills him into moving just the slightest bit slower; his loving touch, giving you all you need in those moments where your desperate sighs have called for it.

“Please…”

And when you’ve come apart at the tail end circle of your tongue, he allows your faithful hands to take over for him at the hem of his shirt; gasping for cool fits of air in between, before lifting the material up and over his head.

In your eyes, you favor him just the way he is, chest hairs curling with soft greys amidst all that is still dark; the patient drag of your hands against them, always leaving him feeling incomplete when they are gone.

And so he stills you there, just for a second to relish in the way you feel at the covering of your palms, as if sensing trouble should your hands and his ever divide; a heartfelt intensity, that breathes new life at the very seam of your fingertips as they further intertwine.

“Stay with me, darling.”

Duncan’s well meaning thoughts begin to tire themselves out into flashes; blurs of wandering and distant visions of his past, somehow forcing mistruths into being there inside his mind.

He tries to convince himself in dreams of all the reasons why he should not love you; always settling on the risk being far greater than any chance of truly allowing himself to…

Yet, still, he folds into you anyway, lost to all his senses, and unable to let your gentle touch slip away; even now when you’ve breathlessly shifted beneath him.

"You’re shivering...”

Pressing soft kisses to your wrist, the once stoic exterior begins to fall away, where glistening strands of hair brush just above the warm hazel of his eyes.

With his brow knitted together – latched on, and distracted, they almost appear an affectionate shade of gold in the dimly tinted light, and despite how startling they might seem to everyone else, even so, you can not get enough of them.

“Here.”

Soon he’s cradling the back of your neck, tenderly lifting you from where he had just been commanding over you earlier. Caged in, vulnerable and bare, he embraces your fitting body into the strength of his arms, carrying you towards the comfort of his bed where soon he’ll pay careful attention to loving you elsewhere.

“Duncan… wait, it’s…”

“Shh, I’m not going anywhere.”

…

Stepping out of the rest of his clothes, his belt crashes with a sudden thud to the floor; heavy steps answering the sound over to where he now patiently lays you down, dipping all his weight there with the bed.

He seems to tower over you there, always handsome and somehow less intimidating in the dim firelight. But, little do you know, the reason why he softens just as easily, is because of the overwhelming effect that you have on him, no matter how hard he tries to push it all away.

Slowly he moves, cock hard and coated in the slick of your arousal, hitting just below the tuft of hair trailing down his middle, softened and uncharacteristically beautiful.

He palms himself once over, eyes trained on the way you’ve become so entranced by him; grasping hard around himself, before grazing the swollen tip deliberately over the sensitive peak of your aching clit.

At this you almost whimper, biting down hard on your lip and forcing the sinful cry welling there to recoil. It isn’t until you’ve arched your head back into the patterned blue covers that he now steadies himself upon them; strong hands finding an insistent embrace beneath your thighs, so eager just to have his mouth on you again.

His silence is an ambient virtue, for a man of very few words, but still you’ve come to know in time what he’s always thinking; always one step ahead of him, in tune to the rough gravel at the pit of his throat, until the part happens when he’s surprising you all over again.

an urgent knead to your flesh,

a course scratch of hair along your skin,

the flat of his tongue on your…

oh.

“Let me take care of you.”

The simple words, string themselves together in gentle, staggered breaths, hovering closely over the plush skin of your inner thighs; grazing a dark silver kiss there, as his eyes soothe themselves into closing.

He takes his time in all the ways he chooses to love you; a heated tension wrapping around you tightly each time, where his tongue circles almost cruelly around your dripping sensitive bud.

He flicks you there relentlessly now, stilling your pretty movements with the splay of his weathered palm against your waist, only to have you fall apart in the safety of his hands where you can’t help but moan; the delicious suck of your clit between his lips, sweet, and incredibly warm.

Breathless, you feel as though you had been taken of every ounce of air; the delicate veil of fog clouding your mind, settling only after he’s laying by your side there. Eyes so lost to a tranquil well of meaning held inside yours against the shadows, as if in search of the very secrets he intuitively knows, and already has the answers to.

I love her.

I will not rob her of this.

I need her.

More than ever.

And as if reading his mind of all conflicting thoughts, the kind caress of your hand is all it takes to keep him there; slotted limbs wrapping further there around him, all in hopes of something so much better.

Shifting beside him, the flow of your silhouettes embrace one another in your wordless shades of back and forth; a kiss, soon to have been deeply felt, when your lips collide by slanting over, leaving nothing behind to everything really you want.

Enveloping his bottom lip in yours, the dark pleasurable scratch of his mustache catches onto the plush feel of you at the top, breathing air for each other as if one of you had truly forgotten how.

And where you both have now reluctantly pulled apart, hovering and wandering around for the slightest bit feeling of more, you’ve already comforted him to lay down upon his pillows; straddling him where his hands now slide in tender passes firmly upwards and down along your back.

The heat of your skin, once pebbled before by the outdoor chill, lost to the frost covered glass forming waves of smog upon your window.

“Duncan…”

“I’ve got you."

You say his name as if to be sure that he had truly been there – and he is, always, waiting for you, no matter what may become of his life in these very moments.

For right here, right now, it’s just you and him; alone, and sated, where nothing else matters.

I love him.

And if this

is all we have,

Then,

I hope he knows.

With the flat of your palms steadied against the broad planes of his chest, he looks to you with such adoration in his eyes; tilting his chin with a stretch to meet you before falling back onto his sheets defeated with an exhale of breath. Your capable charge over him now, awakening him to the inviting patterns made by the softened tracing of your fingertips.

Slowly they meander along the taut strain of muscle, feeling hints of himself begin to tighten ahead of a mounting anticipation. Your careful hands, reaching for him as he lays heavy there from behind, gesturing with the salacious roll of your hips against his hard cock; the swollen tip, slick with his own essence, brushing deliberately against your clit with each forthcoming slide.

With his eyes winding shut to what’s being felt breathtakingly lower, you begin to slowly sink yourself down upon him, relieved when the large expanse of his hands have tensed upon the rippling of your covers; even more so when they’ve grown all the more impatient, relishing in taking over with a grip there at your sides.

It only takes a moment then for you to fully adjust, clenching tightly there around the delicious stretch of his cock before you are able to really move; writhing against the hardened feel of his hips, enjoying all the ways he’s been raking over your form, falling high above him there.

And so you press, knowing he’ll be watching; circling the budding pearl of your clit in tandem with his practiced thrusts, eyeing him with a shattered moan as your neck lends it’s pleasurable arch back into the air.

It isn’t until a sudden exchange is being made between souls that just can’t seem to get enough of one another; Duncan, collapsing into the tension of your winding rage of dominance, with the alluring grit of his teeth, and the near shift of his back now laying itself all the more strengthened.

Lost in the night, a mess is soon being made against his pillows, fed up with them entirely now as all else threatens useless. Your figure, and his, caught tangled between soft, barely used sheets, and the rough pads of his fingertips, tracing lower where yours had previously been before.

The quick roll of your hips has you falling, bereft of all thought when he’s leaning up and forward to embrace you there; flexing his arms where his hands now grab hold of the covers beneath you, and his mouth, hovering over your breasts where his tongue chases after the rush of enveloping them there.

Grazing lightly over their stiffened peaks, a clash of teeth and hands motion against the glistening sheen of your skin; so heated by the mere sensation of his touch alone, that soon he’s pulling away, searching your beautifully tired eyes for confirmation that you haven’t yet slipped away from him.

“Tell me what you need.”

Sinking down onto him over and over in a perfectly unsteady rhythm, your sudden need for release becomes all the more great, with Duncan allowing time to stop just for you to let everything go; to take what you want from him as the warmth of him marks echo incoherencies along your chest there as you do.

“Just you. Only you.”

He’s reaching and pulling you down with him, muffling a deep hum of a groan with an open mouthed kiss, slipping past your lips’s parted open bloom of a divide.

Out of breath and absolutely incapable of catching it, you’ve found a momentary shade of comfort the only way you know how; caressing the sharpened part of his high, and chiseled cheek, all while whispering some sort of forbidden keepsake in his ear.

"I love you, it’s too late.”

And he hums all too deeply – satisfied and pleasant; whispering his own affectionate confession over your mouth’s pretty corners.

“It’s not…”

His eyes are serious and true, lacking hesitation when he gifts you with such unexpected, meaningful words; making damn sure that this last embrace will never cease or part, that you’ll never have to say goodbye to each other as long as he had been there to prove himself.

“...I know it now, I can not hide from you. I don't want to.”

Your dampened skin is soon to lead him on a path toward home, kissing you once tenderly upon your forehead; holding you to him there, relieved and resting, and satisfied with never having to let you go.

…

You’ve found your way toward the peaceful tides of slumber after he’s situated you both more comfortably beneath a soft patterned quilt, hoping just to drift with you there, pressed, and curled up into his side.

But instead, there is a maddening sound of an incessant ringing coming from his phone there in the background, echoing impossible calls, and threatening any chance of a restful sleep to be had in the sweetened confines of his cabin’s wholehearted desolation.

It was a problem then, that he knew needed to be rectified right now…

More than ever.

“It’s alright, Duncan, let it ring.”

“I can’t.”

Leaning over towards the nightstand, he angrily opens its drawer, pulling out a striking handgun laden there in black, before taking perfect aim, and pulling the trigger across the room.

“Oh! What are you…?!”

Jumping at the startling sound of a single shot being made, you can only hide your face deeply into the prominent curve of his side.

It’s sudden and surprising; not exactly something you imagined happening where he’s now cradled the back of your head with his palm – as if to say it’s safe now, there’s no reason to be frightened of me, even though right then it feels as if maybe you are; an outdated phone, scattered there in pieces, and all that remains of it, found within a cloud of dust trapped across the floor.

“Forgive me, I…”

All is completely still, then, where uncertain looks encase one another in those inconceivable moments, remembering words left both unspoken and not, in waves of purely being from before.

I love you,

it’s too late,

this is no life for you …

oh how swiftly you had fallen.

And where your head now attempts to rest itself solely with affection there upon his chest, the sound of his wistful breathing, only brings you in that much closer.

… ❤️

a/n – thanks so much for reading ! 💫

this series was originally written & posted between 2020 - present, so I am looking to repost an updated version of the story back onto tumblr & ao3, & finally complete the ending after a very long hiatus.

If you are reading this again, or even for the very first time, thank you so much 🙏✨ & as always, I would love to know what you think of it ! xo A

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@miraclesabound @kalllistos

Sighs of Breath & Longing

Obi Wan Kenobi x Force Sensitive!F!Reader

stolen glances on your ship to alderaan pass inside the comfort of your loving in between, where a certain little princess wills obi wan into taking a closer look inside his heart…

rating: T or M (blog is 18+ only) | word count: 1.3k

(gif credit: @bladesrunner)

** may contain spoilers for episode four of the obi wan kenobi series **

"What you did for her, and all that you've just faced…you shouldn't be alone in this. Not now."

"I do not want to be, not truly…"

You begin to watch him from afar as he’d taken kindly to the little girl – the softened princess with her gentle eyes, and only the strongest of hearts, caring for him instantly. The comfort that she'd been found and that he had done that for her, instilling such wordless relief woven by the joining of their palms.

For a moment it felt as though his eyes had no longer been so weary; that innocence and sensitivity given freely from a child - at the mere touch of her delicate hand alone, had all at once filled him with the warmth he had lost.

You could only imagine what that might have meant for him; to give in to that tender fill of patience laced by love, now that you've had a quiet chance to rest after everything that has just gone on…

A feeling of your own – so distantly imagined, that once she'd been safely returned to Alderaan, what then, could this journey imply for you both?

Would he have wanted you to stay with him, just as he sensed your breathless kindness there watching from a delicate veil of cast shadows?

Had he been in tune with all of your heartfelt thoughts and musings, when the sterling blue of his eyes had reflected something slightly hopeful in them, right then as he'd just looked up?

If perhaps you might have slipped away, would you only have dreamed of it yourself?

The passing glance, holding still against your eyes, enlivened there by amber shades of grey, and waiting all at once?

You can only bring yourself to smile softly; to hold onto those stray moments where even the little one has intuitively quirked her brow.

Eyeing the way she leans over to him playfully, her all knowing grin glides itself alight wholeheartedly with wonder, whispering something to him that makes him sigh so endearingly out loud.

"Ben, aren't you going to talk to her?"

He looks to her fondly with a subtle light of exasperation; something entirely too familiar about it all, awakening his memory to much kinder thoughts.

"Now is not the time, Leia."

"But isn't it?"

Shaking your head all to yourself, his ethereal stare lays claim to you all over again, as if the time for saying things, or even feeling them, hadn't been more perfect than it had right now.

"You're too smart for your own good."

"I know."

That when he taps her knee the slightest bit conspiratorially, as if to say – stay out of trouble, little one, so soon he can be seen walking over; smoothing the coarse tufts of his beard all the while nervously, between his forefinger, and thumb.

…

"You know…"

He begins, curiously; a certain glimmer left behind to his eyes when he whispers to you once.

"...a very brave, young lady told me that I should come over here, do you think perhaps she might have been right to assume as much?"

Smiling gently from the ship's farthest end, the gliding feel of your silhouette slips around him, lending a soft wave of your hand to one of the ship's doors, as it closes right behind you.

"I do, if that is what you might have wanted."

He breathes you in even nearer, then; wordlessly tracing the slightest hitch of your breath as it hovers past the chill of night, and the dimly held light upon the wall.

"It was."

For a moment you sense his eyes, and how they’ve wandered off in the careful feel of softened time that passes, finding yourself wondering about all it is that he could possibly be thinking about.

"Are you hurt, General?"

He looks away, tired eyes reflecting all of their blue, where no longer they lay solemn.

"I'll be alright."

Your shoulders fall, an exhale of breath soon to give way toward a faded sense of relief, sighing when nothing else comes.

"Forgive me for overstepping, but…"

And he turns to you amidst a cascade of idle shadows, instinctually caressing your face as if it had been every wave of truth; so endlessly overwhelming, and pure.

"What is it, darling?"

Leaning into his smooth and capable touch, the drifting feeling of it alone almost leaves you speechless, forgetting all it is you had hoped to say to him from the start.

"I sense such a deepened ache in you, Obi Wan…your body is not the only thing that must heal itself."

Brushing along your skin, the winding feel of his palm cradles itself tenderly upon your face, as if lovingly entranced by it.

"I know."

"What you did for her, and all that you've just faced…you shouldn't be alone in this. Not now."

"I do not want to be, not truly…"

Listening to the inviting sounds of elegance woven throughout his voice, your compassion brings you toward him even closer, colliding with the plush feel of his chest beneath his robes, and the patient way his arms have soon wrapped themselves around.

"...which is why I am here…offering myself as I stand before you."

"I'm not sure I fully understand your meaning…"

Flush with your hips, the tip of his nose grazes itself past your cheek, pressing a featherlight kiss to you there, before whispering against the skin.

"I think you do."

The sensations of his tenderness so swiftly have caught onto your entire being, endlessly commanding over all of your nerve endings, just to ignite them with his affection; as if the inevitable pull between you then, just hadn't been enough.

"I do not know what lies ahead for me."

His eyes fall away with you into something so heartfelt, and pleading, intuitively sensing all the ways in which you've become so wistful.

"Then come with me, wherever I may go, stay here by my side."

Threading the kindness of your touch throughout his hair, your fingertips catch onto all the honeyed strands of silken gold, finding it most difficult in the sincerity of this moment, not to fall completely when you steady yourself.

"Suddenly I find myself feeling very much lightheaded…"

He grins, pulling you close, all while anchoring you to him; endearing creases there inside his cheeks, enticing you further, lending the flat of your palms in a deft slide along his chest, with his hands, immediately coming up to cover them.

"Good. Then you feel it too."

So leisurely, the warmth of his air hovers deep inside the span of your entwined arms, leaving you thinking that perhaps all of this just might have been too much.

But it wasn't.

None of it was, how could it have been?

Not when his hands had been grasping so desperately at your sides like this, before coming round again to rest inside the incredible feel of your longing arch; nudging a trail of marks behind the sensitive shell of your ear, as if you would ever tell him that he should stop…

"Forgive me, it appears I've lost myself…"

Caressing his face in both hands, the blur you feel is soon to clouds the many shades of all your looking, so softly once more when you have smiled.

"No apologies, none needed, none at all."

You kiss him then – lips slotted together and slow, enveloping the pleasurable scratching of his top lip with your own, before welcoming the sound of a heady groan past the pretty corners of your mouth.

And it stays, fanning aimlessly where it's been driven outwards from his chest, embracing you impassioned there around; the languid circle of his tongue, tethering to all your tension, just as soon as the fervent feeling threatens to infinitely break apart.

… 💙

a/n – every week after watching, I just want to kiss him. 👋🌸 hope you loved this sweet story with obi wan ! let me know what you think in a reblog or a comment down below ! xo

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Tease; (Post Azkaban) Sirius Black

Not my gif, all credit goes to the owner

Req: Maybe something about the reader being the eldest weasley, or either Bill or Charlie’s twin and they sneak around behind Molly and Arthur’s back in Order of the Phoenix? Ideal scenario, Sirius and the reader are having seggsy times in his room (kinky, degradation/breeding kink if poss) and Sirius has to keep her quiet if people are in hallway? No worries if not 😘🥰

C.W.: Soft dom Sirius in the beginning, Molly’s a cockblock, some thigh riding in the beginning as a lil treat, mentions of Sirius’ family issues and his time in Azkaban, D/s dynamics, bratty reader, exhibition kink, fingering, oral sex (male recieving), punishment sex, breeding kink, degradation, spanking with a belt, Sirius has a crying kink.

Word Count: 5.1k

***

I sat on Sirius’ bed at twelve Grimmauld place and admired him. The book I had been trying to read laid on the bed, long forgotten as I studied the man in front of me.

Sirius was standing in front of the floor length window looking longingly outside. After being cooped up here for a summer, save for the time he took Harry to Kings Cross, it’s only natural to want to be free.

Recently however, he seemed much more content now that he had constant company, between members of my family and the Order he was scarcely ever alone. The Weasley’s are not a small family, dad often jokes that we have enough people in our immediate family to form a Quidditch team and still have some people left over.

But just because they had a large family doesn’t mean that my parents weren’t keen on taking in one more, even if really Sirius had been the one to take us in. Despite the portrait of Walburga’s protests, My family, along with Harry and Hermione, had stayed with Sirius for the better half of the summer, and my parents and I were still staying with him now late into the fall.

Keep reading

Only You

Pairings: Din Djarin x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, PinV sex, breeding kink, oral (female receiving), daddy kink, slightly rough Din, cursing.

Summary: second req from my dear @scorpio-marionette, “trust me, you don’t want to know what I’ve been thinking.” For our boy Din.

A/N: I’m gonna be slow to post, after 2.5 years covid has finally got me and I’m not well so I will post when I can but I’m not putting pressure on myself. I’ll try my best because I know I have a lot of requests to get through (from like Xmas 🙊) and my Javi series needs an update but we will see. 🥰🥰

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

Din was on another planet seeking alliance - one of the many he had been on previously as a bounty Hunter. Now, he was accompanied by members of the Mandalorian council. He hated this. All the formalities of being Mand’alor. The constant negotiations and protocols, it was just too much. All he wanted was to get into the crest and get back to how it used to be. Just him, Grogu and you.

Din had zoned out of the conversation - they were all the same at this point - his mind drifting to you again. His lips curved slightly as he thought of your beautiful smile, and how it always made your eyes sparkle. He’d left you in Mandalore - not that he had much choice - and you ruled in his place while he was away. Something that required a lot of begging on his part.

He loved you and wanted to make you his wife, his queen. He succeeded with the first but you still refused to be called a queen. I don’t like titles Din, they make people think they're above everyone else when they're not. He had argued that you would make a great queen, a compassionate one but it did not deter you from your choice.

While Din was lost in his thoughts of you, Grogu had snuck away and when he realised his son was no longer with him, he panicked. Standing abruptly, he leaves the meeting to his adviser and searches for his son. He finds him in the local market, face glued to a tank of frogs and he can’t help but chuckle. He uses the force to lift one out and towards his mouth when a man shouts, startling him. “Hey, get away from them you little Hutt spawn.”

Din could feel his blood boil, his fists clenching at his side as he stormed over towards his son. Picking him up he grabbed a blade from his hip and brought it to the man’s throat. “Say that again.” The man quivered in fear and began apologising, handing a frog to Grogu. “I didn’t mean it, no harm done.” Placing the blade back in its place, Din turned to leave when a woman appeared out of nowhere.

Her hands caressed Grogu’s ears as her gaze landed on the visor of Din’s helmet. “He is just adorable, is he yours?” Din nodded, unable to speak. Her hands began to roam and landed on his arms as she squeezed his muscles. “You are such a good dad, if you want to have another - I’m happy to help.” Was she flirting with him?

Din swallowed thickly before he came to his senses and pushed her away gently. He didn’t speak. He couldn’t. Walking away he was stopped again by another woman. What in the maker? “That was amazing, what you did back there, protecting your son. Interested in having more?” Din didn’t stop this time as he barrelled back to the ship.

Boarding the crest he removed his helmet and ran his fingers through his hair - Grogu cooing happily as he sat watching his father. This had been happening a lot lately, women throwing themselves at him, wanting to mother his children. It’s not something he ever thought about. Sure he had Grogu but having children of his own - wasn’t something he ever thought he’d have. Now, it’s all he can think about.

He thinks about it every day and at night when he sleeps and now all he wants to do is get home and breed you. You are the only one he wants to be the mother of his children. He just hopes you want that too. Hitting on his com-link he summons his council back to the ship, sitting in the pilot chair and setting the coordinates for Mandalore. His body hummed with desire and his cock ached.

He needed to get home, now.

***

As soon as Din landed he went in search of you, ignoring the pleas of his council to discuss urgent matters. He didn’t care. This was far more urgent.

He knew where you’d be and when he stood outside the door to the library, he could hear you humming inside. A smile spreads over his face and he opens the doors startling you. “Dank farrik, Din you scared me.” The book falls from your hands as he grabs you around the waist tight, pulling you close. “What’s gotten into you? Did the negotiations not go well?”

He loves how you are always concerned about these things but right now his mind is on other things. He growls and you shriek a little as your hands rest on his chest plates. The beskar cooling your flushed skin. “Need you now, mesh’la.” He pushes his hips against yours and you can feel his desire for you, hard and throbbing against his cargo pants.

What’s got him so riled up? “What’s going on in that head of yours?” His grip tightens and he closes his eyes, “trust me, you don’t want to know what I’ve been thinking.”

“I do, so tell me.” He releases a deep breath and his eyes find yours. “Want to…want to breed you… wanna see you round with my baby.” You freeze, eyes focused on his visor. “What?!” He grabs your hands and places them on either side of his helmet, before helping you lift it off him. It falls to the floor with a loud clunk and his brown eyes stare at your beautiful face, a mixture of love and lust swirling behind them.

“I want to…I….” He becomes nervous suddenly and you place your hand along his cheek. “It’s ok, tell me.” His eyes fall to your lips quickly before meeting your gaze again. “I’ve been thinking…what if we had a baby…a brother or sister for Grogu?” His grip on your waist tightens a little and your lips curve into a smile. “You want us to have a baby?” He nodded, his eyes full of hope.

“Ok!” He smiles brightly before his lips crash onto yours. “You're sure?” You nod before pulling him into you again. “But you’ll have to work for it,” you whisper into his ear. “What?” Pulling away you create a little distance. “I want you to chase me, hunt me, and if you catch me - then you can breed me.”

His eyebrows quirk as an amused smile spreads across his face. “What if I lose?” You move back towards the door, “you won’t.” With that, you ran. He removed his gloves and flexed his fingers. This was going to be fun.

***

You moved as fast as your legs could carry you as you run through the palace, knowing full well he would catch you. He always did. You thought about hiding but then you entered the throne room. An idea is formed and you rid yourself of your clothes before ascending the throne and taking a seat.

The beskar was cold against your skin and a shiver ran through you. Your exposed breasts are pushed forward as you sit straighter, waiting for your king. The doors are pushed open and Din stalks towards you, faltering in his step when he sees you upon his throne. His eyes seem to darken and his lips curve into a seductive smile. Din was ravenous, and his desire permeated the air. He stands before you, “My Queen.”

“Kneel.” You command and he quirks his eyebrow at you, the hint of a smile on his face. You know he doesn’t want to play these games but he will if he wants you. “For someone who doesn’t like titles, you sure are bossy.” He drops to his knees and looks up at you with a tsunami of emotions behind his eyes. Sitting forward slightly you beckon him towards you with your finger. He crawls towards you slowly and your heart swells, knowing you are the only one he’d do that for.

His soft plush lips kiss your bare feet as his hand wraps around your leg. “What does my Queen desire?”

“You want to breed me?” Din nods his head as he inches closer to you. “Then strip and fuck me here, on your throne.” A growl emanates from his chest and he sheds his armour and clothes quickly, standing bare before you - chest heaving. He drops to his knees again, his hands tracing up your legs as his lips skim the inside of your thighs before his mouth finds your core.

Your back arched off the throne and your breath hitched as he worked his tongue into you. His stubble and moustache created delicious friction. “Oh fuck…Din..” He adds two fingers and you mewl below him as you come hard, cunt fluttering around his thick fingers. He pulls away and stands, grabbing his cock as he pumps himself. “Up!” He commands and you stand on shaky legs.

“Want you to ride me on my throne. Use me, my Queen.” You straddle his waist and his big hands grip your hips tight as you slowly sink down on him. A groan escapes his lips as he fills you. “So kriffing tight…gonna fill you up mesh’la…watch it take root and…oh fuck…” His head falls back as pleasure courses through him, your hips moving above him. His hand moves towards your breast grabbing it and squeezing tight before he captures your nipple with his mouth.

“Din..oh maker…I’m gonna come…” He helps you move above him, his eyes focused on where you are both joined, watching his cock move in and out of you. “Come mesh’la, come for your king.” You clench around him as you cry out in ecstasy, “oh fuck…yes daddy…”

Din is still below you and his nostrils flare as he asks you what you said. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment, “daddy.” He stands, his grip on you tight as he flips you onto your back. You're bent a little and the position is a little awkward but you don’t care. He pounds into you grunting loudly in your ear. “Say it again.”

“Fuck me, daddy.” Oh, fuck you were doing this again. His hips begin to falter and he moves his hand to your clit, rubbing circles over your swollen bud. “Want you to come again…then I’m gonna fill you up, breed you.”

“Yes…please fill me up Din, make me yours.” He thrusts twice more before spilling inside you, coating your womb with his seed. You’re both panting and sweaty as you come down from your high. “Are you ok, mesh’la? I wasn’t too rough?” You smile up at him as your hand rests on his cheek, “never. I want you to do that again.”

He chuckles as he pulls away slowly and helps you up. You can feel his come dripping down your thighs. “I love you.” His lips meet yours in a soft kiss before the doors burst open and his council stand mouths agape as they take in your naked forms. “Oh, your majesty, we are so sorry, we didn’t know…”

Din pushes you behind him in an attempt to hide you. “Out! Now - and keep your eyes off my wife.” You bury your head into his shoulder in embarrassment as they all shuffle out of the throne room. “I’m never gonna be able to face them again.”

“If any of them say anything I’ll kill them.” He bends a little, grabbing you and lifting you into his arms. “Now, I’m gonna take you back to our room and keep you full of me all night, make sure I have you bred before morning. Would you like that, my Queen?”

“Yes, my king.”

Part 2

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @trickstersp8

Din djarin: @paulalikestuff @anaaaispunk @hb8301 @djarinslove @browneyes-issac @dins-cyare @agingerindenial @afootnoteinyourhappiness @stevie75 @almaeunice @readsalot73

don't you (forget about me) | steve harrington x reader

“Oh, great, she’s here,” Steve says, stepping away from the door.  "First of all, Harrington," You scoff, glaring at that mop of hair with all the rage you can muster. "I have a name. Second of all, we are talking here—” Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever—" "You did not just roll your eyes at me—” Dustin sighs. "Here they go." (or: You've always thought Steve Harrington was a weirdo. When you find out you might be in terrible danger, he might be just what you need.)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader (she/her pronouns used), lots of henderson siblings bonding <3

words: 13.9k

a/n: gif by @dailysteveharrington. thank you all for being patient and i hope you all like it<3 i loved this season and i love steve so i hope you enjoy this lil enemies to lovers fic. this fic is a one shot, but let me know if you'd like a sequel once vol 2 is out bc its a bit of an open, ambiguous ending ;) also some fun facts before this fic starts: dustin's dad appears at will's funeral in s1 and there are several theories about him-- officially, he and dustin's mother are divorced in canon. i'll explore that in this fic. ST4 SPOILERS. this is set in season 4 ep 3 "the monster and the superhero" and follows vol 1 canon also sorry if this doesnt follow canon pretty well i mostly did it from memory cause the wiki still isnt fully updated 💀

disclaimer: this fic discusses the topic of an absent parent, please proceed with caution if this is hurtful to you. also warning for canon typical violence and cursing. english is not my first language so please let me know if there are any mistakes.

📼 NOW PLAYING: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Mind

Your mother had always been slightly overbearing and fearful, but the murder of Chrissy Cunnigham you think might actually kill her. Or at least will force her to lock you in your bedroom and flush the key down the toilet.

“You can’t go anywhere without telling me,” your mother tells you over breakfast, worriedly overcooking her bacon. “You hear me? I don’t want you running around town without me knowing. Or better yet, don’t go anywhere at all!”

You glare at Dustin’s chair, where your brother is munching on toast and eggs, hoping your mother takes the hint. She does, and so she shakes her head and says, “Dustin’s different.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Maybe this killer has a thing for pretty girls,” your mother shakes her head, shivering. “Chrissy Cunningham was such a nice and pretty girl, right your age.”

“You don’t know what that killer was thinking!” You groan. “Why can Dustin leave but I can’t?!”

“Dustin’s not an eighteen year old girl with an easily breakable neck.”

“He’s easier to man-handle!”

Dustin frowns, finally looking up from his breakfast. “I’m not!”

”Besides, do you even know where he was last night?” You ignore your brother’s protests, choosing to point at him as he scoffs in offense. “I bet you don’t, because he’s always sneaking out!”

“I’m not always sneaking out!”

“I try my best with you, Dusty,” she sighs, finally sitting down. “But your sister is right, you’re difficult to keep track of. You’re always running around, like those little legs have minds of their own.” She points the spoon she was using for her coffee at your face. “Don’t you throw that in my face, (Y/N).”

“Mom, you’re right,” you nod, sipping your orange juice, trying to appeal to her soft spot. “He is difficult to keep track off, and there’s a dangerous killer on the loose. How about I keep track of him? Make sure he’s not getting into any trouble, hm? I’ll make sure we’re always safe, together.”

Of course, you were planning on bolting as soon as you were out of your mom’s sight. You mom’s cat Tews meows somewhere across the room, as if he knows not to trust you. That damned furball.

“What the fuck? No!”

“Dusty! Language.”

“Mom,” Dustin says, exasperated. “I don’t need a babysitter. Much less a babysitter that’s also my annoying older sister.”

“No, you have Steve Harrington for that,” you mutter under your breath, and Dustin manages to kick you under the table. You glare at your little brother, then turn to address your mom once again. “I promise we’ll stay together. I know— no, I understand that it’s scary out there right now, but I can take care of myself. And Dustin. You have to trust me.”

“I trust you. It’s the murderer I don’t trust.”

“Mom—”

“Let me finish,” she stares pointedly at you, and you promptly shut up. “I don’t want you two sneaking out. But, it’ll make me feel better if the both of you are together.”

Dustin covers his face with his hands. “Shit.”

“Yes!” You squeal. You stick out your tongue at him, and he rolls his eyes. “Guess you’re stuck with me, Dusty.”

“Screw you.”

“Dusty, it’ll be fun. (Y/N), don’t taunt your little brother,” your mom scolds both of you into silence. “It’ll be like old times, won’t it? Aw, you two used to be thick as thieves back then.”

Dustin sighs, picking at his toast absent-mindedly. “Was there a murderer on the loose back then too?”

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

After breakfast, you give Dustin a ride until you arrive in a neighborhood that is most definitely not Lucas Sinclair’s like he told you it would be. You turn to stare at your brother before you unlock the car’s door, confused.

“Where are we?”

Dustin looks at your shoes. “I told you. Lucas’s.”

“Okay, you might lie to me whenever you want, just not to my actual face, Dustin.” You roll your eyes, and he mirrors you. “Seriously, why did you make me come all the way down here?”

“Why do you care?”

“I know we’re doing this to get mom off our backs, but there is actually a killer on the loose,” you say. “So, excuse me if I’m also a little wary about dropping you off at unknown locations, or whatever.”

“Fine,” Dustin sighs. “I’m here to see Max and Steve.”

“Steve?”

“Harrington.”

You blink at him. “Fucking Steve Harrington?”

“See?” Dustin rolls his eyes again. “This is why I didn’t tell you! You are extremely uncool about Steve, you know.”

“I’m not!” You try not to dwell about how defensive you sound even to yourself. “I’m extremely cool about him. I’m extremely cool about the fact you hang out with that douchebag with stupid hair.”

“He’s not a douchebag! I don’t get why you hate him so much.”

Because you remember him and his friends making fun of you all throughout High School, his sneering and stupid stares. Like your brother, you’d never fit in— you never liked going to parties or drinking and you never made an effort to be liked by him and his group of popular dorks, instead you spent most of your days in the library, reading, hiding from Steve and his friends. Whatever honorable things Dustin saw in Steve Harrington you think he might have imagined them.

Now, in your last year of High School and with Steve becoming a social pariah, you don’t have to hide the fact that you still dislike Steve as much as you did back when he was still King Steve. Steve, for however much Dustin insists that he’s changed, upon first meeting you had tried to sweet talk you as if he didn’t know who you were. And you had barely kept it together enough to tell him to fuck off. Ever since then, you and Steve Harrington had hated each other’s guts. Your mutual dislike of each other is not lost on Dustin, who continues to mostly ignore it and tiptoe around it as best as he can.

“He’s not not a douchebag,” You murmur. “Why is he hanging out with two fourteen year olds during spring break? Isn’t the barf bag, like, supposed to be in college, going to frat parties, having a life of his own?”

Dustin doesn’t appreciate the way you talk about him, clearly, but he still replies, albeit unhappily. “He’s helping me with something.”

“With what?”

Before Dustin can respond, someone knocks on Dustin’s window. You jump, surprised, but it’s just Steve and Dustin’s friend redhead Max, looking bored and impatient. You groan and reach over Dustin’s seat to roll the window down.

“Do you mind?” You say to Steve. “We’re talking.”

“Oh, great, she’s here,” Steve says, stepping away from the door. 

"First of all, Harrington," You scoff, glaring at that mop of hair with all the rage you can muster. You ignore Dustin’s groan. "I have a name. Second of all, we are talking here—”

Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever—"

"You did not just roll your eyes at me—”

Dustin sighs. "Here they go."

“I did not roll my eyes—”

“You absolutely did!”

“There was something in my eyes.”

“That something was lies!”

“Jesus fuck,” Steve finally throws his arms up in exasperation and turns to your brother, ignoring your insults. “You done talking to your lovely sister there, Henderson? We got a counselor to see.”

“What?” You frown at Dustin, irritation immediately melting into concern. “What’s he talking about?”

“Steve, shut your mouth,” Dustin glares at Steve, who shrugs and finally steps away from the car. “Nothing, (Y/N), seriously. See you later?”

“No.” You shake your head. “What does he mean a counselor? Are you seeing Ms Kelly?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise. It’s—” he looks like he’s scrambling to think of an excuse, then his eyes land on Max. Something flashes across her face and she speaks next.

“It’s for me.” she says, “Chrissy died in my neighborhood.”

“She’s kind of freaking out,” Dustin says, and when you finally turn to look at Max you realize how tense she is, her shoulders square, with her lips forming a straight line.

“Oh. That sucks. Hey, Max.”

“Hey,” she greets, awkwardly. It’s part of her charm, you think.

“See?” Dustin asks. “Can I go now?”

You nod, a little shaken up for some reason. Maybe Chrissy’s murder still made you feel slightly ill, and the mention of it made you feel even worse. You couldn’t imagine what Max might be going through. It didn’t help that they had found another body this morning, either. 

“Ye— yeah. Sorry. I hope everything’s alright, Max.”

“Yeah,” she nods.

Dustin nods to the door. “Can you unlock the car, then?”

You wordlessly comply, and as your little brother steps out of your mom’s blue Ford Cortina, you talk to Max once again. “Ms Kelly is great help. I’m sure she’ll make you feel better. She really helped me this year, you know, she’s a great listener.”

“Yeah, I know,” Max says. “I’ve been thinking about seeing her for a while, a—actually. I’ve heard she’s well… you know… fine, or whatever.”

“Hey, there’s no shame in that,” you shrug. “Lots of people go to see Ms Kelly… Actually, now that you mention it, Fred Benson, the guy they found this morning, was seeing Ms Kelly too. And Chrissy Cunningham.”

Dustin pauses before closing the car door. “What do you mean?”

You blink, slightly confused as to why you’d even bring it up. “I’ve seen them in Ms Kelly’s office before. I’m not sure why I’m even mentioning it, sorry.”

“No, no, (Y/N), that’s…” Dustin says, then doesn’t finish. “You’ve been seeing Ms Kelly too?”

“Yeah,” you nod, a little ashamed. You think about telling Dustin about everything that’s been going on, the nightmares, the guilt— but then you glance at his friends looking expectantly at him and cower. So you don’t continue.

It’s Steve who breaks the silence. “Henderson, chop chop, let’s go.”

“I’ll see you at home?” Dustin says, a little softer.

“Yeah, yeah. I was gonna go to Dinah’s near Ave Park, but do you think you’ll need a ride later?”

“Steve’s got his car,” he says. “Don’t wait up, okay?”

You nod, watching him leave.

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

It’s around eight PM, and Dinah is painting her toenails as you skim through one of her books, the soft hum of the TV in the background, entering through the open bedroom door. Her parents are watching the news, the news anchors are urging people to stay home and to lock their doors to be safe of this new serial killer.

Dinah’s house is your usual hangout spot beside your own. You don’t have many other friends, and there’s only so many times you can force Dustin to watch The Breakfast Club before he’s fighting you for the remote.

“It was all Matty could talk about,” Dinah continues to rant. “I can’t stand this murder talk any longer! I can only hear about Chrissy Cunningham’s missing eyeballs so many times, (Y/N), it’s way too fucking gruesome, but it’s all everyone in this town seems to care about.”

“It’s a pretty pressing issue,” when Dinah glares, you shrug. “I’m just saying! You know I agree with you. I don’t want to hear about it anymore.”

“Chrissy was always so nice, wasn’t she?” Dinah shakes her head, putting her nail polish back in her nightstand, then wraps her arms around her legs, hugging herself. “And Fred had a future in front of him. It’s so unfair. They had a family that loved them.”

“Dinah, I really don’t wanna talk about it,” you say, feeling yourself shiver. You don’t want to think about poor Fred or Chrissy, or the families mourning them. You try to focus on the book in your hands, but the words start blurring together, becoming harder and harder to read. 

You blink, confused, then realize Dinah is still talking.

“It’s the truth, isn’t it? I think about their dads too. Chrissy’s dad was crying so much at her wake. Do you think your dad would ever cry for you like that?”

You finally snap to look back at your friend. She’s staring at you like you’re small, like an insect she could stomp on. You’ve never seen her black eyes seem so soulless, so empty.

“Maybe they’ll be tears of joy, don’t you think? After all, weren’t you the one who made him walk away?” She tilts her head to the side, a sneer forming in her lips. “They could be a family without you.”

There’s something wrong in Dinah’s eyes. There’s something wrong about all of this, but you can’t point to what, where are you, when, why…what…?

When you blink, Dinah’s eyes look normal again. 

“(Y/N),” She asks, frowning. “Are you there?”

You shake your head. What the fuck was all that? 

“What?”

“You were staring at me like you weren’t all here,” she explains, grimacing. “Where did you go just now?”

“Sorry…” When you speak you feel a dull ache around your temple, and you lift a hand to rest against it, trying to soothe the pain aimlessly. “I think I need some painkillers or something, my head’s killing me.”

“Again?” 

“Yeah,” even before spring break you had confided in your friend about the headaches and the nightmares— you never told her why, but she at least knew you were seeing Ms Kelly. 

Dinah stands up, careful not to stain the carpet with her fresh black nail polish. “I’ll ask my dad for some Tylenol. Stay here, I’ll be back in a sec.”

Before Dinah is out the door she’s interrupted by the doorbell, which rings once, twice, three times and more. Dinah frowns, as her dad yells I’m coming, Jesus!

“Someone’s impatient…” you murmur, hand still resting on your temple.

“Hey,” Dinah, who has always had great hearing, says. “I think it’s your brother.”

You frown, and when Dinah’s father confirms it’s your brother by yelling out that It’s little Henderson!, you and Dinah head downstairs to find a heavy breathing Dustin, Max, Lucas and even Steve Harrington, looking as if they just ran a marathon.

Dustin’s eyes land on you. “(Y/N)!”

“Dustin?” you say, “What are you doing here? You need a ride ho—?”

Dustin runs to hug you by the waist, almost knocking the air out of you.

“Are you okay? Do you have a headache? Is your nose bleeding? Do you feel—?”

“Woah, Dustin,” you don’t know what to do with your hands— you and Dustin hadn’t hugged since he turned twelve and he and you both deemed it lame. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

Dustin finally lets go of your waist to grab you by the face and inspect it properly. He roughly pulls your face down and tries to pull up your nose to look at your nostrils. “No nosebleed yet?”

Steve tries to stop him. “Dustin, buddy—”

Lucas adds a sustancial, “Dude.”

“Dustin!” you push his hands off your face, feeling your cheeks heat up when you notice everyone looking at you. “What the hell are you doing?”

Your brother opens his mouth to speak, but then seems to notice Dinah behind you and seems to think better of it. “We need to talk,” he says instead, “Like, right now.”

“Right now?” You ask. “I already told Dinah’s mom I’m staying for dinner. Dustin, what the hell is going on with you?”

Dinah clears her throat. “I’m… just gonna go get that Tylenol.”

“Tylenol?” Dustin asks when she walks away. “What for?”

“I have a headache.”

“Shit,” Max says, still by the door frame with Lucas and Steve.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dustin curses, deep in thought. “It’s already started.”

“What?” You ask as Dustin starts pacing back and forth.

“We need to find out how to stop this right fucking now,” Dustin starts pacing back and forth. “Think, everyone.”

“Maybe Robin and Nancy found something in the library,” Steve offers.

“Yeah,” Lucas nods. “C’mon, man. Let’s go find them.”

“Okay, yeah. Okay, okay.” Dustin calms himself down, manages to stop his pacing. “Let’s go wait for them at the Wheeler’s. (Y/N), let’s go.”

You throw your hands up in disbelief.  “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?”

“(Y/N),” Dustin says, his voice unfaltering. Dustin is never serious about much, and this renders you speechless. “I need you to listen to me for once in your goddamn life, okay? We need to go. Now.”

“Okay, Jesus,” you say finally. “Dinah’s mom is making Lasagna so this better be worth it, Dustin.”

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

On the way to Nancy Wheeler’s house, you learn two things: One, Dustin knows where a serial killer might be hiding, and two, your brother thinks you’re cursed and are going to die in, give or take, twenty four hours.

You glare at Steve Harrington in the rearview mirror. “What the fuck have you been giving him?”

“I’m serious!” Dustin yells. “I knew you wouldn’t fucking believe me.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, because he looks genuinely frustrated, but a second dimension and a supervillain? Does your brother think you’re stupid? Just how many movies has he been watching? “I just think D&D might actually be getting to your head, Dustin. There’s no way what you just told me is real.”

“Lucas and Max know it’s real too!”

Both of them nod furiously.

“Are the other two fourteen year olds your only source?”

“Steve too!”

Steve winks at you through the rearview mirror.

“Even worse,” you say.

“Listen,” Lucas tries to reason when Dustin groans in frustration, cursing under his breath at you. “I know this sounds absolutely crazy, I wouldn’t believe it either. But I promise you it’s all true, and if we don’t do something soon about it you’ll end up like Chrissy and Fred.”

An involuntary chill runs down your spine every time you think about them. 

“Guys,” you say, slowly, “I know things are scary right now, but I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for the murders besides a demon supervillain.”

“I didn’t believe it at first either,” Max shakes her head. “Not until I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Didn’t Ms Kelly’s file say the others who were cursed were also having hallucinations?” Steve asks the kids, looking for a place to park. “So, have you gotten any weird visions lately?”

Hallucinations? You think back, but can’t seem to pinpoint anything similar to that. Except tonight at Dinah’s place, before Dustin and the rest had rung the doorbell. Suddenly you grow a little paler, uncomfortable at the memory being brought back. That had been weird, but you were exhausted and knowing a serial killer, Eddie Munson, who apparently your brother knew, was out there still was making you restless.

“I wouldn’t really call them visions,” you murmur.

“Shit,” Dustin breathes, looking at you with wide eyes. “It’s spreading faster.”

“Listen, Dustin, I may be going through some shit lately, but I promise you I’m okay. I just need some painkillers for my head, seriously.”

“(Y/N)!” Your brother takes you by the shoulders and shakes you. “Your life is in imminent danger! You don’t need painkillers!”

“I do if you keep shaking me like a ragdoll!”

“Listen,” Lucas says, grabbing Dustin and prying him off you despite his protests. “Just stay with us tonight, okay? We’ll sleep at the Wheeler’s and it’ll make Dustin feel better, right? We’re all tired.”

“Dude—”

Lucas cuts Dustin off and whispers, “We’ll wait for what Nancy and Robin have to say and then figure out how to convince her later, yeah?”

Dustin sighs. “This was so much easier when El had her powers.”

“So yeah? You’ll stay the night?” Lucas asks, hopeful.

You see all three of the kids staring at you and cave in. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.” You say, at the same time Steve parks right in front of the Wheeler residence. Before you can even step out of the car another car pulls over by the garage and Nancy Wheeler and another girl you don’t know step out of it.

“Nance, Robin!” Steve exclaims as he stops the car and steps out. “Had fun at the library? I sure didn’t.”

“It went well, I think—”

“We have a situation,” Dustin is quick to interrupt, reaching over your space and popping his head out from the open window. “It’s my sister. We think Vecna cursed her.”

“Whatever that means,” you mumble, getting out of the car, Dustin trailing behind you and slamming the door shut.

“She doesn’t believe us,” Max explains.

“Well, I personally would be more weirded out if she did,” The girl you don’t know shrugs a little. You recognize her now— she worked with Steve at Scoops Ahoy last summer before the fire at Starcourt, and now works at Family Video. You’ve spoken a bit with her before.

“She’s been having visions, headaches, nosebleeds,” Dustin continues, “like Fred and Chrissy were, according to Ms Kelly’s files. I think Vecna is preying on vulnerable people, people dealing with...” he looks at you for a second, then back at the girls, settling on saying: “Some shit.”

“We found some articles about Victor Creel at the library,” Nancy says, then motions at the house with her chin. “Let’s talk inside.”

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

Nancy and Robin turn out to be as crazy as the rest of them— they tell the story of Victor Creel, infamous in Hawkins for murdering his entire family, and about how he was supposedly possesed by the devil according to some conspiracy newspaper. They want to talk to Victor, but the problem is that he’s now a patient at Pennhurst Mental Hospital and completely unreachable to the public. They plan to go first thing in the morning and the rest of the group seems to agree. 

“We’ll need a disguise,” is Nancy’s big plan.

You never quite get that Tylenol, because the strongest thing Ms Wheeler has is green tea. You think everyone’s lost their goddamned minds.

“So what do you want me to do while all of you plan?” You ask, sitting on the couch. Nancy and Robin leave to Nancy’s room. Max and Lucas are by the desk in the corner speaking softly, Dustin is pacing around the room impatiently as he usually does when he’s this restless, while Steve is sitting on the couch beside you, playing with Dustin’s (or is it Mike’s?) walkie-talkie. “Am I allowed to eat something? Because I’m starving.”

Dustin snatches the walkie-talkie from Steve’s hand. “You’re gonna break that.”

Dustin’s, then.

“We don’t know yet,” Lucas says, walking over to where you are, holding Max’s hand gently. “We’re hoping the girls find out something from Victor. In the meantime…”

“You can eat,” Steve concludes. “... Right?”

“Right,” Max nods.

“We have to do something soon,” Dustin’s the most anxious you’ve ever seen him, even before you took him to see The Empire Strikes Back. “We don’t know how much time you even have once the visions and all the hallucinations start. We said twenty four hours but we can’t be sure.”

“If it helps, they started today. At Dinah’s.”

“You snapped out of it, right?” When you nod, Steve shrugs. “Henderson, I think we have time to order some pizza, at least.”

“And a movie?” You ask, finally relaxing into the couch. You toss away your shoes and hug them to your chest. “Does Mike have The Breakfast Club somewhere around here?”

“Not that movie again,” Dustin groans.

You throw a pillow at your brother, who manages to dodge it easily. “It’s a great movie!”

“It lost its charm after the thirteen time you forced me to watch it with you.”

“The Breakfast Club?” Steve asks aloud. “(Y/N) Henderson is obsessed with The Breakfast Club? Is that why Dustin is always renting it at Family Video?”

Dustin huffs, offended. “Why else would I want to rent that stupid movie?”

“Molly Ringwald,” Steve answers, at the same time you yell out, “It’s not stupid!”

When Nancy comes downstairs she informs you that sadly no, she doesn’t have The Breakfast Club, but that she should. She does have the soundtrack, however, and you think about asking to borrow it tomorrow before she goes back upstairs to order a pizza.

A while later it’s almost midnight, everyone around you is tired, except maybe for Dustin, but the majority wins and you all decide getting some sleep is the best option. You agree, but know that you’re probably not getting any sleep tonight, either; you’ve been having nightmares every night for the past few days and you don’t believe today is going to be any different.

When the lights go off and everyone is already starting to doze off, Dustin is quick to turn his flashlight on.

“Dude! Turn that off!” Steve moans, launching a pillow straight into his face. Dustin doesn’t dodge this one this time, much to Robin and Steve’s satisfaction, who chuckle lightly.

“C’mon, Dustin, what the hell?” Lucas groans.

“Shut up! I’m trying to see if I can find something else in Ms Kelly’s files!”

“Dude,” Max sighs, “you’ve read them each four times already.” 

“You won’t be able to find anything if you’re exhausted,” Nancy tries more softly. “Just try to sleep for a bit, okay?”

“Dustin, c’mon,” you reach for his hand— it’s a bit uncomfortable from your position on the couch and his on the floor, but you do it anyway. That seems to soothe him slightly, to see you still offering comfort, like you’re still yourself. He manages a weak nod, and he squeezes your hand slightly before turning the flashlight off.

After a few minutes, Dustin starts snoring loudly. Steve, who you’re unfortunately stuck sharing the couch with, chuckles.

“He’s a good kid,” he says.

“Yeah,” you can’t help but agree. You wouldn’t trade your dork brother for anything. “He’s great. When he was little, he used to wet his bed all time after watching scary movies with me, and he’d wake me up to change his sheets so my dad wouldn’t yell at him for ruining them.”

“Steve raises a silent eyebrow at you, sounding amused. “And you actually did that?”

“I forced him to watch them. I felt bad,” you smile at the memory. “He would offer to wash the dishes for me, though.”

“Your moral compass is stronger than mine,” he hums.

“You know, he…” you start, unsure if Dustin would be upset if you shared this, then decide it’s not as embarrassing as telling him he used to wet his bed, and continue, “he really admires you. God knows why, Harrington, but he worships the ground you walk on.”

“Henderson?” He asks, a little in disbelief. “I don’t know—”

“I’m serious, Harrington. He loves you,” You hoped you didn’t sound jealous. There had been a time where you thought Steve was almost a replacement for you as an older sibling, but as time went on you realized how important Steve was to him. 

“Well. I’m pretty loveable.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure.”

“He’s pretty loveable, too,” Steve says after a few beats of silence, more softly now. “I don’t have any siblings, did you know that? So it’s… uhm, really cool to have him around. Even if he’s kind of a little shit sometimes.”

“Such a little shit,” you agree.

The rest of the group seems to be asleep already, or maybe they don’t care about the conversation enough to join you. Steve starts telling you about the time Dustin burrowed his hair gel and almost set fire to his bathroom, and you have to cover your mouth to stifle your giggles.

It’s not long before you start to feel abnormally cold, and can’t keep your body from trembling. Steve’s gentle voice is gone. The room is dark around you, and realizing that you must’ve fallen asleep while talking with Steve at some point, you hug yourself trying to seek some warmth. You try to grab a blanket from somewhere. Jesus, it’s spring for fuck’s sake, it shouldn’t be this cold. But you realize that despite the darkness you can see, and when you look up at the ceiling, you find a grandfather clock that most definitely doesn’t belong in the Wheeler’s basement.

“(Y/N).”

The voice calling your name is unfamiliar and it makes you feel ill almost immediately, like your stomach has turned into nothing but knots. You try to speak, to ask who it is, but nothing comes out, you can barely even breathe.

“Do you think you could ever keep living with this guilt?” The voice asks, somehow you feel as if the voice is right behind you, whispering into your ear. It’s like nails scraping against chalkboard in your eardrums. “Knowing what you did to your family?”

You want to turn around and find the voice, but you can’t, you can’t, you can’t. The clock is ticking, haunting you, calling for you. You want nothing but to run away from it, but you can’t move— you’re glued in place somehow, maybe in fear, you can’t tell. Everything is uncertain, except for the clock. The clock, you know, it’s real. 

It’s counting down. You know what it’s trying to tell you. It’s coming for you and you can’t escape it. It’s only a matter of time now.

“Soon, (Y/N)...” It whispers. “Soon, I’ll come for you, and no one will be able to help you, (Y/N)... (Y/N). (Y/N)!”

You open your eyes with a gasp to find Steve’s arms around your shoulders, shaking you slightly. His eyes are wide, a little frightened. When you look around you find Lucas and Max draped all over a chair, their chests rising slowly, asleep. Dustin is in a sleeping bag on the floor, near Robin and Nancy, hugging each other tightly in their sleep. Steve is the only one awake.

“Shit,” you say, placing your hand in your heart. “Did I wake you?”

“We were talking and then you just went somewhere,” he says. “You don’t remember?”

You suddenly feel very cold. “I thought I was sleeping. I saw…” You think about telling Steve, but it seems pointless now, almost. What would you tell him? You saw a clock? “I think it was one of those hallucinations you guys keep talking about. You’re really freaking me the hell out, you know.”

“Fuck, I think Dustin’s right,” he says.

“About me being cursed by a being from another dimension? Are you kidding?”

Steve does manage to look apologetic. “I know it sounds bonkers, but that’s because it is. I’ve seen it.”

“What? This other dimension?” You were starting to think Dustin and his nanny were just trying to play an extremely elaborate joke on you.

“The Upside Down, but no,” he shakes his head, and then his eyes land somewhere around the room, focusing on one of Mike’s many posters. “The monsters.”

“Vecna?” 

“Others,” he says, then murmurs, “Haven’t had the pleasure just yet.”

“The demoger…? What was it?”

“Demogorgon, yeah,” he grumbles. “The Mind flayer too. It’s all real. I wish Will and Eleven were here to actually explain this stuff; they are the ones who actually know their stuff about this.”

You have never seen Steve actually sound so… serious, before. It’s all actually starting to freak you out, you decide, and you aren’t sure if you actually want to find out if it’s all actually real or not. You stay silent for a few moments, sleep escaping you. You figure Steve’s fallen asleep until his voice startles you again.

“You okay there, Henderson?”

No, you want to say. You can’t shake the feeling that the voice is watching you, waiting to catch you by surprise. “Yeah,” you mumble, sleepless, scared.

Steve doesn’t seem to buy your answer however, because you feel his body shifting near your side of the couch, sitting right beside you. When you give him a look (he’s so close he can actually make it out) he clicks his tongue.

“See, I don’t really believe you, Henderson. So, I’m gonna stay near you, just in case you get another vision. Or if you want to hold my hand.”

“Screw you, Steve,” You glare, turning to the other side so that your view is Harrington-less. If you do feel better with him beside you, that’s between you and maybe Vecna, if he’s actually inside your head.

In the morning, when you wake up and Nancy and Robin are both gone (probably visiting a murderer in a mental hospital) and Steve is tangled up beside you, you decide you’ve had enough. 

“So we’re just gonna wait around to see what happens?” Dustin argues, as Lucas and Max try to reason with him.

“What else can we do?” Lucas asks, frustrated.

“Literally anything else, dude! My sister might die!”

“Okay, Dustin, you need to stop and we need to go home, now,” you tell him, looking around the basement for your jacket.

“No!” he points at you. “You’re not going anywhere until we know what to do.”

“Dustin. I’m four years older than you,” you glare, placing your hands on your hips. “I’m the older sibling. I’ve entertained this enough already, but I left mom’s car at Dinah’s and we need to go get it and then get our asses home before mom loses her shit.”

“(Y/N)! Listen to me!”

“No, Dustin!” You finally snap, taking Dustin’s walkie-talkie from his hand and shoving it into your bag despite his protests. “I’ve had enough about monsters and other dimensions and whatever other nonsense Eddie Munson has been feeding you! We’re going home, now!”

“I can’t believe I’m actually trying to help you!” Dustin screams, “You suck!”

“Well, you’re stuck with me!”

“I wish I wasn’t,” he says, his eyes cold. “I wish you weren’t my sister.”

The chills return like a slap across your face, making you stumble backwards slightly. The room around you turns dark immediately, the only person left is Dustin in front of you. But it’s not him, it can’t be, his eyes have never looked this lifeless.

“You took his chance away, didn’t you?” The unfamiliar, bone chilling voice returns. “His chance of having a real family, or at least a father figure. He’s right in wishing you weren’t his sister. He deserves someone better.”

Again you want to scream, but it’s like your mouth is taped shut. Around you Mike Wheeler’s basement seems to fade away into blue, and suddenly you’re standing on your front porch, watching your dad walk away. You’re saying the hardness around your eyes, your lips drawn into a tight line. You don’t look like yourself; you look older, and tired, and disappointed, more like a woman than the girl you were when this happened, the girl you must’ve been.

“Don’t come back again,” you tell your father’s retreating form. But your voice is distorted, so far away. 

“How many times has Dustin needed his father?” The voice asks. When you blink you’re somewhere else; not Mike’s basement, not your home. There’s splinters of wood scattered by your feet, like a house just destroyed. Everywhere around you is red, like blood, like the blood in those horror movies you forced Dustin to watch because he made them less scary when he squealed. “Are you proud you broke up your family?”

“I was a kid,” you manage to say, and only now you realize you’ve been crying all along, the salty tears wetting your dry lips. “I didn’t want Dustin to know what he did. I would take it back if I knew he wouldn’t actually come back.”

“But you did it anyway. You did.”

I did, I did, I did, you think, over and over. You close your eyes, hard, ignoring how it almost hurts.

“You miss him too, don’t you? Despite everything. You’re sadder about the fact that he left you, too. He left his daughter behind.”

“Who are you?” You hiss out, through your anguish.

“I’m part of you, (Y/N). Whether you want to or not.”

You’re not alone. When you open your eyes you see him — a monster, vicious even in looks, like someone slowly peeled away his skin, and all that was left of him was muscle and meat, not even blood. Vecna. Around you there are two different bloody columns, and you’re quick to notice they’re holding Chrissy and Fred’s bodies, like morbid museum displays, tokens. He was right, Dustin was telling the truth about everything, and now you were going to die because you didn’t listen to him.

“No,” you want to say, you want to scream. But you’re not strong enough, you can’t—

Hey, hey, hey, hey

You blink through your tears. You manage to recognize that melody in this unfamiliar place. You want to run towards it, but you’re not sure your legs can even respond to your commands right now.

Vecna seems to think something’s wrong, too, because as the song progresses he grows more impatient. “You think you can escape like this?”

Tell me your troubles and doubts

Giving everything inside and out and

Love's strange, so real in the dark

Think of the tender things that we were working on

His hands— his claws are stroking your cheeks, an aborted tender gesture, like he’s trying to soothe his prey before going for the kill. It’s over, you think, there’s nothing but this certain death. But then; you think of the hundreds of times you forced Dustin to watch this movie with you; of you both playing with Tews until he scratches one of you in annoyance; driving Mike, Lucas, Dustin and Will to the movies; getting ice cream at Scoops Ahoy and guggling when Steve gets rejected once again; putting Dustin’s hair in braids and practicong makeup on him when he was younger; asking Will Byers what he was sketching at the park; Dustin and you laughing during dinner because of some stupid joke. You think about last night, sleeping beside Steve, and the way he made you laugh.

Don't you, forget about me

Don't, don't, don't, don't

Don't you, forget about me

You can’t give up. You can’t leave Dustin.

Somehow you manage to pull Vecna off you with a shove, and you run. You run, you run as fast as your legs let you, as your jeans stain with what looks like blood, as Vecna screams at you. You run like you've never run before.

And then you gasp and you’re falling.

“Shit, fuck, shit!” Someone’s arms are around you, and it takes you a second to calm down to realize it’s Steve, and that you’re in Mike Wheeler’s basement and you’re alive, somehow.

“Holy fucking shit,” Max is saying, but you can barely hear her over the rapid beating of your own heart— erratic, but unquestionably alive. 

“God, god, (Y/N),” Dustin’s voice stands out from the others, and when you look at him there are tears streaming down his eyes, and you can barely process anything before you’re trying to reach for him despite feeling like you’re not even in your own body.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, Steve letting go of yours. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

“I thought you were gonna die,” he whimpers.

“I’m here,” you breathe out. “Oh my God, I’m here thanks to you.”

You realize that the song is still playing, only to notice the headphones in your ears. You see your scattered bag around the room, and the walkie-talkie that Dustin must’ve been looking for already on the floor. Don’t You (Forget About Me) slowly fades to an end before the next song on the soundtrack starts.

“I’m sorry,” Dustin says into your shirt. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were going through something, I should’ve noticed. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” You shake your head, holding your little brother even closer. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Fuck, Dustin, I’m so sorry.”

You stay like that for a moment, hugging Dustin on the carpet, Max and Lucas hovering near, and Steve’s hand on your shoulder, grounding you.

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

When you explain to Nancy what happened and what you saw once she comes back from Pennhurst she’s quick to pinpoint the house you saw when you met Vecna as Victor Creel’s house. All of you grab your things and head to that location. You try to not feel so dreadful, and Dustin forcing you to listen to Don’t You the entire car ride and holding onto your jacket sleeve helps soothe your nerves, at least a little bit.

But Victor Creel’s house is something out of a horror story, dark and abandoned as it is, and the only light source in the house seems to be the hole Robin made when she smashed the window.

“Let’s split up,” Nancy offers, and everyone seems to comply much to your dismay.

Lucas and Max leave to investigate with Dustin (reluctantly parting from your side) trailing off behind them, Nancy and Robin head upstairs and you and Steve are stuck together and instructed to stay downstairs by Nancy, the only thing illuminating your way being your flashlights.

You wander through hallways, staring at ruined wallpaper and dusty portraits. Victor and his family seemed so happy in their pictures, and you wonder why nobody, family or not, ever came to look for their things. The house seemed frozen in time, like one day the family had decided to get up and leave everything behind, the house nothing more than ghosts.

“I hate this place,” you comment, trying to hug yourself tightly to keep the cold at bay. “Thinking that people died here is…”

“Horrible,” Steve finishes for you. “Yeah… Fuck this place, man.”

When you turn to a corner, you freeze in place.

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re seeing this, right?” You point at a clock with your flashlight, unmoving. It’s the same clock from your visions, the one you saw before meeting Vecna.

“Yeah,” Steve frowns. “Real old. Why?”

“I saw it,” you try to explain through the rapid beating of your own heart. “In my visions, I mean. This clock was in them— well, the second one, mostly. In the Wheeler’s basement last night.”

“Shit…” Eloquent as ever, Steve Harrington. “Has to mean something, right?”

“If anything it proves Nancy and Robin were right. It all started here.” You finally force yourself to look away and continue forward, ignoring the way you feel your skin crawling. You hold up your cassette before re-starting the song.  “What would happen if I suddenly got tired of this song? Will it no longer work? Does this mean Vecna will… come back for me?”

“Listen, I— I’m not a genius at this like your brother, or like Nancy, or even Robin,” Steve admits, very honestly. “But I promise we’ll find a way, even if that happens. Besides, Dustin told us how much you love this song. Seems kinda impossible you’ll ever get tired of it if you listen to it every day. And listen, I gotta ask. Breakfast club?”

“What?” You feel heat rise up to your cheeks, embarrassed. You start walking away from the clock, trying to get rid of the chills that had gotten ahold of you just a few moments before. “It’s a great movie.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Steve says, and even though you can’t really see him in the dark, you can hear his smirk, picture his smile. He’s teasing, and you’re kind of glad for it. It helps. “I just didn’t think it would be your thing, is all.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s my thing then?”

“I don’t know. You seem like a Dune fan, maybe.” He wonders out loud, your flashlight lighting the way. 

“I do like the book.”

“See?” Steve points at his temple. “I knew it.”

“I think working at Family Video is finally getting to you.”

“I’m good at reading people,” he says, and you raise another silent eyebrow at him. He continues, “I’d always thought of you as a little brainiac, and that you’d liked movies that were kinda difficult. You were always reading in school. I didn’t think you’d like teen flicks and Hughes.”

“Dune is not difficult. And maybe you don’t really know me enough to know what my thing is,” you shrug. “... Or maybe every girl is a little bit in love with Judd Nelson.”

“Yeah,” Steve actually laughs. “Can’t beat that hair.”

And you can’t help yourself, you smirk. You think you might actually be dreaming, or maybe this curse made Steve seem more tolerable than usual. “You give him a good run for his money.”

“We’re still talking about hair here, right?”

Now you point your flashlight at Steve and elbow him.

“I’m just asking!”

“It was a stupid question. And just so you know, there’s nothing wrong about liking teen flicks,” you say, continuing to walk and not waiting to see if Steve follows. “Pretty in Pink is my new favorite movie and my GPA is still 3.5.”

“Oh wow. Pretty in Pink?” He whistles. “You have a soft spot for Molly Ringwald.”

“Who doesn’t?”

He hums in response.

You stay like that for a moment, walking through dusty hallways and trying to avoid spider webs. Even with the flashlights the place looks abandoned and lonely, and there’s a coldness running down your spine that you can’t shake off no matter how much you try. You focus on trying to catch the sound of Steve’s breathing to somehow ground yourself to reality. It feels like ever since meeting Vecna your grip on reality slowly fades away, like someone is unraveling the carpet from underneath you, trying to catch you by surprise. Like you’re falling into an abyss of darkness and you can’t hold onto anything— because nothing around you is truly real. And so you bite your lip to keep yourself from reaching out to Steve and holding on. You can’t think of a moment you’ve felt as uncertain as you do now; but Steve’s teasing and your bickering back and forth is normal, makes you feel like you’re not actually in immediate danger. You figure if there’s a different dimension called the Upside Down, then you can most definitely forgive Steve Harrington for being a jerk in High School. He has more than proven himself to you. 

Because the truth is that maybe Vecna will win. Maybe you will never beat this curse. And you’ll end up like Chrissy Cunningham, like Fred Benson, like Patrick McKinney; just dead bodies along the trail.

“Hey, Steve,” you call, slowing down to walk beside him. He turns to look at you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. “Uhm. If something… like, happened to me—”

“Woah, woah, wait,” Steve shakes his head. “Nothing will. We beat the curse, remember? With the song?”

“Yeah, but we didn’t actually beat it, did we?” Now you do turn to look at him, and his big eyes almost render you speechless. You don’t know what to call the look on his eyes, but it makes you want to look away from him; makes you want to run. “Listen, Steve, I just— I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says, quickly. You think he’s noticed how embarrassed you feel, and you look away, embarrassed. “You’re just scared shitless like the rest of us.”

“It’s not that,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk around you and picking fights with you. You’ve— you’ve been there for Dustin when I wasn’t, and I guess you’re not actually a bad guy. So… I’m sorry I judged you. And thank you, I guess. For being there for Dustin. And… me.”

Steve doesn’t say anything for a second. You’re still looking anywhere but him, now focusing your eyes on a spider in one of the many spider webs in front of you. You feel embarrassed and stupid, but a little bit better. You know you’re doing the right thing by apologizing— you know Steve now, better than you’ve ever thought you would. You finally dare to take one look at him and his eyes are still on you, and when your eyes lock, he smiles softly.

“You’re apologizing for that?” Steve asks, and when you nod matter of factly, he tilts his head to the side. “Huh. Never thought I’d see the day Henderson’s sister apologized to me.”

“Don’t let it get to your head, Harrington,” you roll your eyes, but can’t help the small smile forming on your lips. “I’m only doing this because I might die.”

Steve chuckles, nodding. “Fair enough,” he says. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too, Henderson. To be honest, I think I kind of deserved it. I was an asshole in High School, so… yeah. I, uh, I’m sorry it took me getting kicked off the clique to realize you’re not half bad.”

“Well,” Now it’s your turn to laugh. “It took me almost dying to realize you’re not half bad either. I think we’re even.”

Steve stops in his tracks, making you stop, too, a little confused. You turn to look at him, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look quite so… earnest, maybe. You can’t name the look on his face, but you can’t look away, can’t seem to be able to keep walking. You’re frozen in place.

“You’re not gonna die, Henderson,” he says, determined. “I won’t let you.”

Your mouth goes dry. All you can do in response is nod. You want to say something, but the words escape you, and so you stare at each other for a few seconds, neither of you saying anything. You wonder if Steve can hear the rapid beating of your heart, if he can make out the way your eyes drop to his lips for a slow second despite the darkness around you both.

Then you hear Dustin yell out, “Guys!” and the moment fades away.

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

Finding Eddie at Skull Rock seems to be harder than it should be, and once you find him you’re made to follow Dustin’s apparently broken compass. You feel like you’re wandering through the desert, with no clear path in mind. Dustin is at the front, with Lucas and Max following closely behind, Eddie (who you now have a hard time believing would ever be able to kill anyone), Robin and Nancy in front of you and Steve.

You find yourself time and time again choosing to spend more time with Steve, that he seems to be the one able to actually make you feel grounded, like you’re not gonna die in the next three seconds. You feel like yourself around him; but different. Steve is different. This whole experience is making you rethink everything you’ve ever known.

You can’t help but wonder in the silence about Dustin and the others, guiding the rest of you through the night time in the forest. Despite all of them being younger than you, they don’t seem to need your help, especially Dustin, who you think is completely in his element leading the way.

After a while of walking in silence, Dustin announces that the compass seems to be going even crazier. At this, Robin pries it off his hands to confirm that it’s true. Eddie and Dustin argue for a second about following the compass and make another Lord of the Rings reference that has you smiling.

“He’s not half bad,” you comment. “Eddie, I mean.”

“I still don’t know what the hell Modor is,” Steve mumbles under his breath.

You don’t try to explain Lord of The Rings to him— you don’t think there’s even enough time. But, maybe one day, when Hawkins isn’t in imminent danger and Steve still wants to hang out with your uncool self for whatever reason.

“What do you think we’ll find wherever this stupid compass is taking us?” You ask him, trying to avoid accidentally stepping on some poison ivy. Just your luck to get cursed and also poisoned on the same week. “You know more about this than me.”

“I’m actually more like, the, uhm, action guy of the group.”

“So you’re telling me you don’t know where we’re going,” You conclude.

Steve nods. “No damn clue, Henderson.”

“Great,” you chuckle lightly. 

“All I know is that it’s probably a portal Vecna opened after killing someone.”

“A portal. To the upside down?” When Steve nods in confirmation, you sigh. “I still can’t get used to how crazy this is.”

“The third time you do this you kind of just start going with the flow of things,” Steve admits. “Russian spies, MK-Ultra, different dimensions, monsters— it all just kind of starts to sound like background noise.”

“Dustin and the kids seem to really know about all of this.”

“They do,” Steve nods. “Dustin is like, their leader. Our leader, I guess.”

“My little brother… fighting communists and monsters.” You shake your head. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. How did Nancy? With you and Mike?”

Steve stops for a second to frown at you. “With me?”

“You know, with Nancy and you dating.”

“Me and Nancy?” he asks, then shakes his head. “No, me and Nance just… we go way back, but she’s with Jonathan. That ship sailed a long time ago. We’re friends now. Besides, she’s the one killing more monsters than me.”

“Oh.”

There’s no way to ignore the way your heart skips a beat at this, or the hopeful glint in Steve’s eyes. The rest of the woods disappear and it’s only you and Steve and your rapidly beating heart. The others are lost to you, in their own little world, searching in the dark with their flashlights like fireflies.

“Yeah,” Steve scratches the back of his neck. “And, just in case, me and Robin are not a thing, either. Just friends.”

“Platonic with a capital P!” You hear Robin yell out in front of you.

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you at Steve’s blush. “Yeah, yeah, think she got it, Buckley, thanks.”

“You’re welcome!”

“That’s… good to know,” you comment.

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, then scratches his chin. “Is it? Good to know?”

You nod slowly, avoiding his gaze. “Maybe.”

“Maybe. Okay. Maybe is—” he breathes out. “Maybe is cool.”

“Maybe is really cool,” you allow yourself a small smile.

“Really?” Steve inquires, and when he notices his smile he gifts you one of his own. “Okay. That’s great. Maybe is really cool. Cool. Cool beans.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip, finally daring to look at him.

Steve follows your movement with his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, breathless.

“Hey guys,” Dustin’s voice rings out, the moment gone. “I think we found the portal!”

You both follow Dustin’s voice until you reach a lake, where Eddie explains Vecna killed Patrick when he was running away from Jason and the rest of the basketball team. 

“So the portal is… what?” Robin asks, “Underwater?”

Dustin shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

He starts climbing up the boat, and you’re quick to grab him by the sleeves of his shirt to stop him.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” You ask him.

“Looking for the portal,” Dustin says, matter-of-factly.

“You told me this portal is supposed to teleport you to another dimension, one Will Byers got stuck in,” you reply, pulling him away from the boat. “You’re not going anywhere near that portal. None of you kids are.”

“Who died and made you the boss?”

“Three people died,” you note.

“I made her the boss,” Robin quips. “Well, Nancy might technically be the boss, actually. Nance?”

Nancy blinks at Robin’s words. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

“Nance says yes.”

Eddie frowns. “Yes to being the boss or yes to—”

“Let’s just go,” Nancy urges, gesturing at Steve to help her drag the boat offshore. Steve complies, and helps Nancy climb into the boat, followed by Robin and then Eddie.

“But what about the curse?” Dustin wonders, looking at you.

“I have this, remember?” You hold up the cassette player, and wink at your brother. “Don’t worry about me, okay? Look after Lucas and Max. Nancy might be the boss, but you’re their leader.”

“Okay, yeah,” he nods, sounding more like he’s talking to reassure himself than anything. 

“Compass, please,” you tell him, and Dustin complies unhappily. You can’t help yourself from grabbing him by the cheeks and kissing his forehead like you did when he was younger. Despite being a good leader, a fighter, he’ll always be little Dusty, who steals your waffles and makes really bad coffee. “See you soon.”

Steve offers his hand to help you climb the boat and you take it with a tiny smile.

The trip on the boat is short and dark. Even with Steve using his flashlight to try and light the way, it’s barely enough to keep you from being engulfed in the darkness of the night. When was the last time the moon shone down in Hawkins? There are almost no stars above, the view chillingly dark. You fear what you might find. Nancy stares at Dustin’s compass, trying to give any semblance of direction when the compass starts going crazy.

Steve starts pulling off his socks. 

“Steve,” Nancy says slowly, “what are you doing?”

“Somebody’s gotta go down there and check this thing out. Was one of you four Hawkin’s High’s swimming co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years?” He figures, already working on his other shoe. “It’s gotta be me, no complaints, alright?”

Eddie chuckles nervously. “Hey… I’m not complaining. I do not wanna go down there.”

You watch as Eddie takes something off his pocket and throws it on the boat’s floor. You want to stop Steve somehow, irrationally, because as far as you know Nancy, Robin and Eddie can’t dive, and you can barely float — but the words die on your throat when you look up and Steve is peeling off his shirt.

“Here,” Eddie says, and you realize now he had wrapped a plastic bag around a flashlight and is now handing it back to Steve. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, taking it from his hands.

“Steve,” Robin rasps out before he dives, and Steve stops to look at her. “Don’t… die?”

“Gee,” he scoffs. “Thanks for the encouraging speech, Robs.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Don’t die, seriously,” you manage to tell him, wanting to reach for his hand but stopping yourself. “Or I’ll kill you.”

Steve nods. He looks like he wants to say something else, but keeps his mouth shut before diving underwater.

The silence on the boat almost kills you, as it rocks quietly, everyone holds their breath waiting for Steve to come up once again. Your heart is in your throat, Don’t You still playing softly in your eardrums, the cassette player still on, a constant to remind you you’re still here. Miraculously.

“He’s…” Eddie whistles. “He’s got balls, King Steve.”

“Yeah,” you nod, looking at the water like you’re hypnotized, waiting for his soaked head to pop up.

“Not what you’d expect,” he adds, a little quietly.

“No,” Robin says, and the way she says it— so fond, so genuine. You couldn’t agree more. Steve is so much more than what you’d expected him to be. “Not at all.”

You stay silent for a few more seconds, all of you waiting for Steve to come back. When he does he emerges with a gasp for air, startling the rest of you. Eddie screams so loud you hear it perfectly well over the music.

“Found it,” Steve claims, holding onto the edge of the boat.

“You found it?” Nancy repeats.

“It was pretty wild,” Steve explains that he seemed to have stumbled into the portal, like an open gate illuminating the bottom of the lake and tinting it red. “It was pretty damn big—”

Before he can continue, Steve is pulled into the water once again, and you jump up instinctively, trying to reach for his hand, but he escapes your grasp quickly. He emerges again and you breathe a sigh of relief— but it’s short lived, because Steve is dragged under once again and he’s not coming up.

“Steve!” you yell. “Steve!”

“What the hell was that, man?!”

Between all the screaming going on, the only thing you can think about is Steve, Steve, Steve—

And so you stand up.

“Wait, (Y/N),” Nancy starts, “What are you—”

“You’re not going in there!” Eddie screams, trying to grab you by the arm.

“I—” You start, but can’t seem to decide on what to say. You don’t know what you’re trying to do, but you know you’ll do it anyway. You have no plan, that much is certain, you’ve never fought a day in your life. “I can’t just stay here!”

“Are you insane?!”

Robin pales. “No, (Y/N), wait—”

With one last look at the rest of the guys, you dive into the water and swim. You’ve never been a good swimmer, but you find yourself swimming like you’ve never had, quickly finding the red portal Steve had mentioned before being dragged down here. What you find on the other side reminds you of when you met Vecna— when he showed you your memories, cold, distorted and dark. You briefly wonder if Vecna had managed to drag you all the way here then, but you have no time to dwell on it too much.

Steve is laying on his back, as some creatures bite at his abdomen incessantly, like leeches. They are choking him, curling their tails around his neck. You stand up and run towards him, only to notice the others have followed behind you, their wet footsteps a reassurance.

“(Y/N)!” Nancy yells, making you turn. She throws one of the boat’s paddles at you, keeping one for herself. 

You manage to catch it, God knows how. Steve is still struggling when you get to him, and the first thing you do is smack one of the things across the face, forcing it on its back and stopping it from further gnawing Steve’s abdomen. You see as Robin starts stomping on the one who has its tail curled around Steve’s neck, and Nancy takes on the other one.

“Shit,” Eddie murmurs when he looks up the sky and sees even more of them approaching.

One of them starts going after Nancy, Eddie trying to come to her rescue by grabbing Steve’s still working flashlight and smacking it as hard as he can manage. You help Robin by hitting the one she’s stomping on with the paddle, until Steve manages to bite its tail, forcing it to curl itself from his neck. 

With more coming, you are distracted enough to barely notice when Steve manages to behead it, his lips stained with pitch black blood.

“Jesus christ,” Eddie mumbles. “Jesus H Christ!”

The adrenaline pumping through your veins, your heartbeat going faster— everything seems to go for so long, when in reality it must’ve been just a few minutes.

“Steve,” you manage to rasp out, walking towards him, only looking at his wounds, unsure of what you can do to help him. “Shit, Steve, are you okay?”

“They only took about a pound of flesh,” he says, making you sigh. “But other than that… Yeah, never better.”

He stares at you when he says it, and you can’t help the way your breath catches.

“You’ll need bandages,” Nancy notes.

“Do you guys know if these bats have like, rabbies?” Robin wonders aloud. Aware that everyone’s eyes are on her, Robin starts rambling about rabies symptoms and death. You and Steve glance at each other.

Steve’s chest is still rising erratically, exhausted, when he asks, “What the hell are you talking about, Robin?”

Before Robin can go on any longer though, the sky is tinted red again, and the screeching of even more approaching creatures gets you on edge. 

“We need to get the fuck out of here,” you say, and the rest of the group seem to agree.

The five of you break into a run into the forest, as far as you can before Steve’s wounds start to appear more serious, and when Nancy deems it safe enough, you stop near a tree where Steve can lean against, still breathing rapidly. You remember that Nancy said he’d need bandages, and so you take the hem of your pants and start ripping them open.

“What are you—” Steve starts.

“Bandages,” you say. “I saw this in Indiana Jones.”

“Indiana Jones?” Steve asks with a chuckle, looking up at the sky, smiling. “Your movie choices keep surprising me, Henderson.”

You tie the cloth around his wounds as tightly as you can, hopeful that it’s a good enough job to keep him from bleeding out until you guys get out of here. The wounds don’t look too bad, but you have no idea how long you'll stay here for. Nancy, looking over your shoulders, seems to approve of your bandage work.

“Thanks,” Steve rasps out.

“Just don’t die on me,” you nod, staring at his eyes.

“I’ll try not to.”

He holds your gaze, your mouth going even more dry than it already is. “I’ll hold you to that, Harrington.”

You’re interrupted when Steve catches something behind you. It’s Eddie’s jean vest. When you turn, Eddie scrunches up his nose.

“For modesty, man.”

“We escaped now, but there’s more of those monsters than what we saw,” Nancy interrupts, walking around, trying to think. “They’ll come looking for us. We need to get out of here.”

“So,” Eddie starts, running a hand through his mouth. “What the hell do we do now? How do we get out of here, exactly?”

“We need to find another portal, right?” Robin replies. “That’s the only way to get out of here. But we can’t go back to Watergate, it’s probably full of those bats now. Those bats full of rabies!”

 “Right now, the most important thing is to defend ourselves,” Nancy says. “We don’t know what kind of monsters are down here. Maybe they’re even worse than that.”

“Hell,” Eddie breathes. “You think Vecna is here?”

“I don’t know… Maybe.”

A chill runs down your spine at the mention of Vecna’s name. Your hand flies to your ear, and only then you realize you’ve jumped in the water with your headphones on, and when you reach the player secured inside your front pocket it’s wet and broken. Through the adrenaline of the fight, you hadn’t even noticed that the song was no longer playing. 

“Shit,” Nancy breathes out, looking at your ruined headphones. “The player.”

“It’s ruined,” you lament, seeing the way it’s soaked. You toss the cassette player to the ground, near Steve’s feet, who pales even more, if it’s even possible.

“Fuck,” he says, breathless, the slight reassuring smile he’d been wearing disappears in an instant. He stands up straight despite his body clearly protesting against it. “We need to find another one before it’s too late.”

“Would it even work here?” Robin wonders. “If it’s one from the Upside Down, I mean. Things seem to be… kind of broken here, don’t they?”

“Then we need to get her out of here right now,” Steve urges, and when he starts trying to walk away it’s Eddie who stops him.

“Dude, do you want your intestines to hang out of your abdomen like some shitty Nightmare on Elm Street scene?” he asks, “Stay still! Those bats could be anywhere!”

“We need to move!”

“Steve, wait a second,” you urge after him.

“We could go to my house,” Nancy offers. “I have guns. We could use them to fend off the demo… bats, or whatever. And we need a player. We can use Mike’s, he has one he didn’t take to California.”

Eddie blinks. “You, Nancy Wheeler… have guns.”

Robin grins. “Full of surprises, isn’t she?”

Steve is already on his way despite his groans of pain, and even though the wounds had seemed pretty superficial to you when you wrapped them up, it doesn’t mean that they don’t hurt like a bitch.

“Steve, you’re just hurting yourself even more now,” Now Robin is sighing, exasperated. You briefly wonder how many times she’s had to deal with Steve like this.

“Let’s go,” he says, ignoring her.

“Steve...” you try to stop him, but he turns around quickly.

“Let’s go!” 

Robin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Where are we even going, oh great leader?”

“Nancy’s!”

You all turn to look at each other, unsure if following Steve is the best idea, but with nothing else to do and no other ideas, there’s only one thing to do.

And so you all start walking.

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It’s a while before you arrive at the Wheeler’s, the five of you mostly exhausted from the fight, with Steve clutching his wounds but still leading the way, right next to Nancy. You’re all on edge the entire way back, but despite the lack of music you don’t feel different yet, and you don’t encounter any more demobats, as Nancy had called them.

Nancy’s house seems haunted in this place, just as much as the rest of Hawkins seems to be. Despite housing monsters, the Upside Down looks more like a ghost town than anything. You couldn’t help but wonder how tiny Will Byers had ever survived something like this so young… Nobody ever gives that kid enough credit. 

Nancy wastes no time climbing up the stairs; she almost seems unaffected looking at her house like this, so… dead. She hovers near a door and turns to look at you.

“This is Mike’s room,” she nods at it. “His cassette player should be in there. Me, Eddie and Robin will get the guns and look for the cassette in my room.”

You agree to it, and she disappears down the hallway along with Eddie and Robin. You and Steve enter Mike’s room, start rummaging through cabinets. You work in silence. You’ve never seen Steve this quiet, this focused. You wonder if he’s mad at you— he had to be. Now besides demobats and trying to escape, he had to help you too because you’d went and done something stupid and completely irrational.

Steve clears his throat, holding up something in his hand. “Found it,” he calls. “Think it’ll work?” He wonders aloud, as you close the closet door before walking up to him.

“Here,” You say, then pull your ruined flashlight from your back pocket. You hit the back of it against the palm of your hand and the batteries come off. You’re not sure if this might work since the flashlight got wet and stopped working once you jumped into the water, but once you plug them into the cassette player it seems to come to life. Steve sighs, relieved. “Thank God that worked. Let’s get that stupid cassette and get out of here.”

“Sounds good to me,” he quips. He wets his lips, looking around. “You don’t feel any different, though, right?” When you shake your head, he seems to be able to relax a bit. “When we were on our way here, Eddie told me you didn’t waste a second to help me.”

You wait for Steve to continue, but he doesn’t.

“I’ve never been much of an adventurer when we were kids,” you say. “Dustin wanted to climb trees and go camping, and I wanted to stay home and read books. We used to fight all the time because I never wanted to play outside with him, because I was scared of bugs and dirt and I just wanted to stay inside.”

Steve doesn’t say anything to that, but he’s near you, hoving near your hand, like he knows you need the comfort, unsure if it’d be wanted from him. 

“If I don’t make it out of this stupid curse, Steve,” you breathe out, legs feeling so shaky you want to throw up, “I need you to promise me you’ll take care of Dustin.”

“He’ll kill me before I let you die,” Steve says, trying t sound lighthearted but failing.

“Steve,” you rag out. “Promise me. Please.”

Steve nods, his voice soft in the way it does when he’s trying to be gentle. “Y—yeah. Of course. You know little Henderson’s like my own little brother.”

“I know,” you acknowledge. “You’ve been a way better sibling than me. I’ve been such a shitty sister and I’m… I’m really glad Dustin has you.”

“That’s not true,” he argues, reaching for your arm in the darkness of the room— you want to flinch away. “He loves you, (Y/N). Seriously, you should hear the way he talks about you when you’re not around.”

You ignore the sting in your eyes and berate yourself for tearing up.

“It’s my fault,” you whisper.

“What?”

“It’s my fault my dad walked away,” you shake your head, tearing your arm away from Steve’s touch, feeling cold as soon as you’re away from him. But you deserve it, you deserve the cold. “I told him I hated him after I learned he cheated on mom and that he had another family, and he never came back. I told him I never wanted to see him again. I’m the reason Dustin doesn’t have a dad now. But— but I was just fifteen, I didn’t— I didn’t know what I was asking—”

“Stop, stop,” Steve interrupts, and suddenly he’s pulling you close to your chest and holding you close.

And suddenly that’s all you need to break down, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. You feel embarrased, stupid for crying about something like this when the world might be about to end, horrifyingly guilty for everything— but for the first time you feel like something has been finally lifted off your chest and you can breathe, here, with Steve holding you. You’re glad Steve stayed behind with you. In truth, you think you might just be glad for Steve.

If someone had told you a week ago you’d be crying in Steve Harrington’s arms you would’ve smacked them. Life can change really fast, huh?

“Nobody is going to die,” his voice is so soft. You’d never thought you’d think of Steve’s voice as anything other than grating, but now you hold onto it like a lifeline. “I won’t let that happen.”

You breathe into his chest. You finally manage to let go of him, thanking God the others weren’t near. You miss the warmth almost immediately, as much as you don’t want to admit it. “Shit, sorry, your bandages.”

“You need to stop doing that,” he quips.

“What?”

“Apologizing so much,” he reaches for your arm again before walking, and you thank him silently. You have to bite your tongue not to apologize again. “Let’s go get that cassette.”

When you both step into Nancy’s room, the silence is almost deafening. 

“What happened?” 

“The guns,” Nancy explains, her eyes focused on her nightstand, not looking up at either of you. “They aren’t here. But so many things that shouldn’t be are. Like— like my curtains, and these— these toys I gifted my cousin Joanna. They haven’t been here since 1983.”

“We’re stuck in time, dude,” Eddie finishes for her.

“Three years, to be exact.”

“What?” Steve asks, confused. “Three years into the past?”

“... From when Will disappeared, you mean?” You question.

Nancy nods. “Yeah, I… think so. But, (Y/N), If we’re three years in the past, it means The Breakfast Club isn’t out yet,” Nancy swallows, hard, then finally looks up to stare into your eyes. 

“What do you mean?” Steve asks, his chest rising erratically. 

You bite your lip. “She means the song doesn’t exist, either.”

Nancy closes her eyes.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” 

“Fuck!” Steve yells, “fuck!”

He kicks one of Nancy’s nightstands with so much force he manages to force it into the ground, Nancy’s belongings following suit, scattering around the carpet, making Nancy flinch. 

“Steve,” you whisper, trying to reach for him. “Stop.”

Steve sits on Nancy’s bed, hand covering his mouth. He lets you rest your hand on his arm, and he breathes out another curse. He almost looks frozen in place like this, and it reminds you that everything in here feels like it is— ghosts, so many ghosts. You feel like you’re stuck in hell. 

“Maybe any song will work,” Robin offers a little desperately, going through Nancy’s drawers, pulling out different cassettes and soundtracks, Duran Duran, Madonna, Elton John. “C’mon guys, one has to work.”

Eddie scratches his neck. “Doesn’t it have to be her favorite song? Isn’t that what Henderon said?”

“Screw it,” Nancy shakes her head, taking in a shaky breath. “We have to try whatever we can. This is our only option.”

“Okay,” you nod, shakily, prying your hand off of Steve’s arm, reaching to cruch own next to Robin and look through the rest of Nancy’s cassettes. “Okay, let’s— let’s try it.”

Robin holds up Total Eclipse of the Heart. “You like Bonnie Tyler?” 

“Seems as good as anything,” you nod, taking it from her hands. As the first notes of Total Eclipse start playing, you gulp nervously, praying this might work, that you have at least enough time to get out of here alive.

Steve still looks miserable, but seems a little calmer now. “We need to get out of here right now.”

“How?” Robin sighs. “How did Will ever manage to get out of this place?”

“There has to be a way,” Nancy figures, then something seems to dawn on her. “Will. Will used to talk to Joyce with the Christmas lights while he was stuck in the Upside Down.”

“The Christmas lights?” Eddie asks, incredulously. “What are you talking about?”

As she explains, you can’t help but think that Nancy Wheeler is absolutely brilliant. You can’t blame Steve for falling in love with her before. She’s interrupted by Robin rather quickly though, when she claims she can hear Dustin’s voice— soon enough, all of you start to hear him, distorted and distant, but it's there no less. Quickly Dustin communicates that he thinks there might be another portal in Eddie’s trailer and that seems to be your best shot at an escape.

Robin and Nancy leave to get some supplies for the trip— whatever they can find to use as a weapon, while Eddie wanders off behind them, with the excuse of rummaging through little Wheeler’s action figures. Steve stays with you, as you stare at Holly’s Lite Brite, unsure on what to do. 

You trust Dustin and his plan, of course you do. Dustin’s done nothing but prove himself to you these past few days. Still, the thought that everything might go incredibly wrong is almost unshakable at this point. What was it Max said to you? Something about how Vecna’s curse made people feel hopeless and lonely.

“You okay, right?” Steve wonders aloud, searching your face. “You haven’t had any visions yet?”

You haven’t felt Vecna’s pull yet, but you don’t want to be overly optimistic just yet. “I’m okay, I think. Are you?”

You glance down at his bandages, but he only nods. “Yeah, they don’t hurt anymore. I’m more worried about you.”

Warmth spreads all over your cheeks and inside your chest, but now’s really not the time for all of these feelings, and so you try to squeeze them out, to focus on something else. 

“I just hope the plan works,” you mumble. “I want to get out of here.”

“You—” Steve shakes his head, looks at you with a look you can’t name. But he sounds frustrated, exhausted. “You just jumped in after me? You didn’t even think…” he trails off. “Eddie said you just jumped. Fucking jumped. You’re unbelievable, you know that, don’t you, Henderson? Absolutely fucking unbelievable.” 

You look down at your hands.

“It was stupid, I know, I—”

“Thank you,” Steve murmurs, honesty bleeding into every word he speaks. You look up at him, surprised. “You saved my ass back there.”

The truth is you hadn’t doubted one second— you hadn’t even stopped to think about what might happen to you. Helping Steve was more important to you than anything in that moment, and you didn’t regret it, how could you regret that? 

“You saved my ass first, back at the Wheeler’s,” you smile at him. “Even later, in the woods, and at Creel’s house. I don’t know if I could have kept going without you… so thank you.”

Steve stays silent for a few seconds, unsure of how to continue. You can practically feel him grow nervous now, when he clears his throat and begins speaking. “Listen, I know we are on the brink of life and death and maybe world threatening danger, but I kinda need some motivation to get out of here.”

“Yeah?”

“So, now that you know me and Nancy aren’t really a thing, and that me and Robin are platonic with a capital P…”

“Keep going.”

“And since you know, maybe is really cool,” you nod, trying to fight off a smile. “We should, maybe, go on a date together.”

“Hm…” you place a hand on your chin. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I can go out with someone who doesn’t like Pretty in Pink.”

“I’ve never said I didn’t,” he shrugs. “I just haven’t even seen it.”

“You haven’t seen Pretty in Pink, you monster?!”

“You know, I’m actively bleeding out here,” Steve gestures at your last minute bandages, his smile almost as handsome as him, even more so after tearing off a bat monster’s head off. Even more so now that it seems you finally have a plan to get out of this goddamn place. “You’re gonna make a dying man wait?”

“You’re not dying, Harrington.” You smack him gently across the shoulders. “I won’t let you.”

Steve chuckles, his hand finding its way to yours, almost nervous, scared of rejection. 

“So? What do you say?”

“I say that if we get out of here alive, and it seems like kind of a longshot right now…” you acknowledge, holding onto his hand and squeezing. “I would really, really like that.”

“Yeah?”

You’re smiling. “Yeah.”

You both might be the people with the worst timing in the entire world— you’re cursed by a demon villain from another dimension, and Steve is bleeding out while you’re both trapped inside the Upside Down, with no clue if you’ll be able to actually escape. Not to mention this is all happening in his ex's house. And yet you can’t help but laugh when Steve tries to reach for the back of your neck and fails miserably.

“I really want to kiss you,” he says, “but my abdomen still really hurts.”

“I have to do everything,” you tease, before closing the distance between you, your lips pressing against his with a sigh. 

Steve’s lips are chapped, bloody, raw, and yours must be equally as bad, salty, open and bleeding raw. But despite everything the kiss is perfect, as imperfect and uncoordinated as it is; the way your lips fit together, the way Steve cradles your cheek, and how you hold the back of his neck while Bonnie Tyler plays in the background of it all. Now, more than anything, you feel hope.

When you break off the kiss, Steve is smiling. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he says. And you just might.

A State of Mind

Daddy!Din Djarin x F!Reader

“I’m your Daddy.” - Pedro Pascal’s actual words.

He said it. I will not apologize for where my mind went with it.

Summary: Din Djarin has kinks that he doesn’t even know he has. He’s leaning into it though. The second the name falls from your mouth, he knows he's in trouble. Word Count: 9k Chapter Warnings: MINORS ABSOLUTELY DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS. 18+ RATING SO EXPLICIT I SHOULD BE SENT TO HELL FOR EVEN THINKING THIS. this is daddy kink filth and I’m not even sorry. soft dom!din djarin, p in v sex, fingering, creampies and cumplay, praise kinks, lil bit of violence Notes: this came from the darkest depths of my daddy kink loving soul and I- I’m sorry but I’m also not.

[post on ao3]

The second he stepped into the ship’s cockpit, I was on top of him, riding his lap, really grinding on him and driving him nuts. The Razor Crest was still in park, not even moving yet. I hadn’t given him time to even start the ship before I pounced on him. Normally, he’d scold me for this because he has a job to do first you know but he’d been gone far too long. 

It had been almost three weeks since I’d seen him last and he was secretly just as eager as me to get a little indecent. The Kid had been sleeping for the entire day, which meant no distractions. Timing was everything. 

The muffled sound of his harsh breathing through the vocoder in his helmet was enough to get me off. His hands roved along my lower back, gloves smoothing down the curve of my ass to grip hard and move me to his liking. He had absolutely no patience today. “Need you now. Right now.” He demanded. His beskar clad body clattered against the pilot’s seat as he plopped down into it. 

I giggled eagerly, working with his hands to pull my bottoms down off my legs. “Stars, did ya miss me that much?” I joked, tearing down the cowl around his neck and burying my face in his overheated skin. I nibbled gently, tracing my tongue along the veins strained from holding his helmeted head up for days straight with no rest.

“I did. Fuck- I did.” He let out a harsh whisper as I sucked a deep bruise into the space where his neck joined his collar bone and rutted my hips along his codpiece. His excitement already straining behind his armor and jutting into the space between my waiting thighs. “I can’t fucking wait.”

His hands slid between us, removing the metal covering and tossing it to the floor with a clang. I loosened the closure of his bottoms and looked up into his helmet as I wrapped a hand around his painfully hard cock. “Then I won’t make you.” I muttered, feeling wet droplets of precum already dripping down the shaft. I slid a thumb over his slit and watched his chest stutter as he gasped for air at the sudden pressure.

Not one to be outdone, he trailed his hand around the curve of my hip, resting a palm on my hip bone and coaxing a thumb gently across my clit. My other hand gripped the pauldron on his shoulder and tightened as he guided more fingertips down into my wet heat. “So fucking wet, pretty girl. You were ready for me…” He laughed softly, the impressed smile nearly visible through the helmet.

I nodded, fumbling at his pants opened up at his waist to silently ask him to get them out of my way. I wanted to forgo any teasing or foreplay, I simply couldn’t take anymore. “Off. Please.” I asked, still sliding his thick cock through my gently twisting fist. He thrusted his hips up, tugging his pants just far enough down to reveal his center comfortably.

“Ready for me?” He checked, gripping onto my half clothed hips with one hand and brushing my hair from my eyes with the other.

“Yes please, Din, let me ride you.” I moaned, lining the head of his cock with my entrance and keeping eye contact with the dark center where his eyes should be. He nodded his helmet to signal his approval and I sank down on top of him.

And suddenly he was there. Right there. My senses are heightened, everywhere so completely touch sensitive, noticing every little sound emitting from him and the ship around us. The high is so intoxicatingly within reach. I tossed my head back to moan when I saw a flash of blue dart past the cockpits door frame. 

Not a single thing in this entire ship is blue.

Not me, not him and not the Kid. 

The Kid. Fuck. 

I wondered if he noticed, but the way he was gut deep inside of me and still relentlessly pounding said he hadn't. The way he was slamming into me made the blood rush in my ears and the adrenaline pump a bold confidence from my fingertips to my toes. 

The blue figure was just outside the kid’s quarters, hopelessly searching for a way to pry the locked door open. Probably judging, by the sound of it, that the ship’s owner was too preoccupied right now to notice. 

His short blaster was still attached to his hip, dangling from the holster on the pants that were pooling under his thighs. He was lost within me, so thoroughly enjoying all he missed about me. I slid my hand down into the holster he could no longer feel and wrapped my fingers around the weapon’s handle. Gripping it in my still spent covered hands, I switched it off of stun and back into blast mode, resting a finger shaking from aroused anticipation on the trigger. 

The blunt of his head careened into the base of my insides, a stunning groan leaving my lips as I felt myself toppling into a gravity shaking orgasm. I channeled the pleasure into focus, letting every muscle in my body relax and dropping my mouth open to emit a single sound. 

“Daddy.” 

I blissfully called out, gripping on his forearm possessively. I took in a final gasp as I tightened around him. He let out a harsh groan, reeling in response to a name I’d never called him before. 

“Fuck.” He hissed, hips sputtering into me and threatening to throw off my aim. I bit down on the flesh of my bicep, using it to balance my shot. I waited, the waves of orgasm crashing through me over and over as I watched for the target to lean into view. 

The back of a blue Rodian head slowly appeared, stepping back to reassess how this goddamn door might open. The bounty hunter turned to think and immediately locked eyes with my hooded, lust blown gaze. My walls collapsed around Din just as my finger squeezed the trigger.

BANG. 

Red blaster fire streamed across the ship, light reflecting off the crest’s shiny metal walls. It was a perfect hit, burning a hole clear through the Rodian’s head right between the eyes. The figure toppled over onto the floor with a thunk.

Din’s rolling hip movements were slowing, death grip on my hip bones loosening as he panted out of his own climax. I felt the fluid warmth of his spend pooling inside me and dripping down my legs. He turned his helmeted gaze up to look at me, his trusted blaster in my cum covered hands. He laughed softly, both impressed and absolutely exhausted from relieving himself like this. “What…was that…?” He cocked his head with curiosity, attempting to crane around to see what I was shooting at.

I tucked the blaster into my own holster and ran my now relaxed palms down his chest. “Some very unlucky bastard.” I replied, looking down at the mess pooling between our laps. 

He sat rigid against me now, realizing what I meant. “What? Coming for th-the..kid…and you…?” He pointed an ungloved finger at me and then a thumb at the still unseen, freshly dead body behind us.

“All under control. Cumming helps me focus I guess…” I said, reaching for the blaster and spinning it in my hands. His cock between my legs twitched again, the semi-hard member springing to life again at the sight of me with his weapon in hand.

“Stars, how'd I get this lucky?” He asked incredulously, gripping my hips again and lifting us both up. He pulled himself out of me and set me down on my feet, pulling his pants up uncomfortably over his still hardening cock. “Let’s go see how you did.” I could practically see the smirk of pride beaming under his helmet.

I walked behind him, my still very naked form crossing the ship. I grabbed my top, sliding it over my body and my bottoms up my legs. I left the cockpit, his footsteps following me more urgently now. I knelt down to the rodian on the ground, body still warm and tracking fob blinking aggressively in its hand. “Thought I saw a tracking fob.” I scoffed, tossing it on the ground and shattering it to bits

“Clean shot though. Right between the eyes. Don’t know how you managed to be so accurate while I was buried in you.” He growled, wrapping still needy hands around my waist and rutting into my ass gently. I spun around in his grip and pulled his loosely tied pants toward me.

“Like I said, you help me focus.”

“..Some kind of target practice..” He joked, heavy helmet looking down at my wrecked frame before him and then at the still open ship door. “Next time, I’m making you wait until we’re in the air.” He pushed our bodies apart gently, grabbing the corpse by the front of its pocketed vest and hurling it out the open ramp with one hand. I jammed the door close button with my open palm as soon as the body hit the ground, kicking the destroyed fob out after it.

“Yeah, that was too close. Sorry.” I apologized, feeling kind of bad for putting us and the kid in such a dangerous predicament.

“Sorry, Daddy.” He corrected, folding his arms in front of him as he leaned on the ship's wall, watching me with amusement. I looked back at his helmeted gaze and blushed. “Don’t think we ever talked about that before.”

“Well I mean-“ I gestured to the Kid's locked door, still snoozing away somehow. “It’s technically accurate.” I laughed, blushing as he stared at me. He hummed softly, shaking his head before taking a few steps past me, gesturing for me to follow him back into the cockpit. 

He didn’t speak for a while and I almost thought he was unnerved by it. He sat down in the pilot’s chair again, preparing the ship to take off and eventually guiding us up into the air. I took my seat next to him and crossed my legs, shifting uncomfortably as our mixing fluid still leaked down my thighs with my every movement.

The tension still lingered, as did the smell of blaster fire and sex tangled in the air. I pressed my legs together, trying to hold myself back from jumping at him again. His thick armored thighs were spread wide, casually showing off the now achingly-hard center of his pants. 

Maybe he actually liked being called that. 

Maybe he liked even more watching me take someone down with his blaster in my hand. 

Maybe he liked most that I’d done all of this with his cock railing into me.

I let my gaze wander over him, burning a hole through his beskar with my stare. He pretended not to pay attention, fiddling with the switches on the ship's navicomputer. Yet, I knew him well enough to know he thrived off of tension, loved pushing me to the edge just to make me squirm. I whimpered impatiently, shifting uncomfortably again as a new wave of arousal dropped down to the seat below me.

I huffed in annoyance, unsure if he was going to do anything about it or just leave me here to soak in the tortured impatience of my three-week pent up needs. I did feel kind of bad for leaking cum all over his seat, even if it was his own fault he filled me so much. 

I stood up, turning between the armrests of our seats to go get something to clean myself up when his hand shot up to grab my wrist. His dark visor rotated to look down at the debauched wet spot on his seat, no doubt a sly satisfied smirk growing under there.

“I didn’t say I was finished with you...” He trailed off, a dark husky whisper muffled through the vocoder.

“It certainly feels like you were.” I retorted, twisting my hips back toward him and staring down into the dark space where his eyes should be. His grip on my wrist tightened and he pulled me closer to him.

“I’ve been gone three fucking weeks. I’m not done with you.” He growled, clicking a few buttons to engage the autopilot and spinning his chair around to face mine. “Sit down, take these off.” He ordered, pulling at the fabric wrapped around my legs again. I nodded, wordlessly slipping the pants off and tossing them into a pile on the floor.

Before I could guide myself down to my seat, he grabbed at my thigh roughly, fingertips digging half moons into the soft flesh there. I gasped, his hand prying my thighs apart and dipping his now ungloved index finger between my folds. He rubbed slowly against the frictionless slick he’d left there, collecting it around each digit and swiping gentle fingertips across my overstimulated clit. I rested my hand on his pauldron, holding myself steady as the return of the overpowering pleasure made my legs shake.

He slid his soaked hand away from my center, raising it up to my lips and holding it there expectedly. I leaned forward and wrapped my lips around his two blunt fingers, licking the mixture of our spend off of him.

“Good girl.” He praised, shoving them slightly deeper past my lips and against my tongue knowing I’d love the taste. “Now sit down and spread those legs for Daddy.” He chuckled deeply, sitting back in his chair and fiddling with the closure of his bottoms to slip his down too. I stood motionless, a little stunned by his demand and certainly surprised that he was actually going for this.

He tipped his helmet forward to softly urge me to do as he says. I obliged, easing into my usual co-pilot’s seat beside him and dangling both knees off the arm rests on either side. I blinked slowly, eyes glazing over with the maddening lust for him that has been torturing me for three weeks. 

I stared into the dark center of his visor, longing for some direction as to what he wanted me to do next. He sat back in his chair, thighs spread wide to allow his hardening cock the space it needed. His gloved hands rested casually on the arm rests, likely to prevent himself from reaching forward to grab onto something else. Some part of me.

I couldn’t see his eyes, but I could feel them, menacingly staring at the wet mess between my legs.

“You looked so good. Taking care of that bounty hunter skug for us. I’m so proud of you, sweet girl.” He complimented, the deep timbre of his voice through the vocoder making the praises sound as good as his moans usually did. I felt my oversensitive opening flutter slightly at the simple thought of making him proud of me.

“Did what I had to do. Didn’t want to interrupt you taking what you needed from me.” I smiled innocently while running my palms slowly down the insides of my thighs. The pent up arousal was still boiling over inside me. I could feel my clit pounding in time with my heartbeats, needing him to touch me as badly as I needed air to breathe.

“Next time you take someone out for me I want to watch you take the shot.” He sighed out, the rush of air not enough to muffle the velvety tone of his voice. I smirked, his words confirming exactly what I thought. Watching me hold his weapons, using his weapons turned him on. If the tone of his voice wasn’t enough to portray how much he liked that, then the return of his now painfully hard cock was.

“Hmmm you liked how I helped?” I asked innocently, trailing my fingers absentmindedly across the soft skin of my center. He hummed in response, shifting uncomfortably as he got more excited watching my hands ghost over where he wanted them to.

“Yes. Were you good while I was gone?” His helmet tipped to one side, baiting me into giving him the answer he wanted to hear. He hadn’t explicitly asked me to wait until he came back, so I didn’t. He was gone for three weeks. I never would’ve survived waiting so long without easing myself through it a little bit. My cheeks went red, flushing my face with guilt. He knew immediately that I wasn’t good. I wasn’t good at all. He hummed impatiently, the metallic sound through the vocoder demanding an answer now.

“No. I couldn’t help myself. You were gone so long-'' I stammered, beginning an apology before he started laughing, interrupting me. It was deep and dark, like he was thrilled at the thought of punishing me for disobeying his unspoken order. He shook his head in disappointment, the light of thousands of startrails passing by glinting off his helmet. 

He spoke slowly and to the point, like he was trying very hard to pick his words carefully. He was formulating a punishment, trying to find a way to both scold me and relieve us of this brutally stifled tension. We hadn’t ever had time to talk about this dynamic before. But he was leaning into the Daddy thing, definitely no way he could deny how much this was thrilling him now.

“Show me.” He rasped, raising his open palm up to point at my center dripping onto the cockpit floor. He tipped his helmet, emphasizing the need to follow his order. Confused, I blinked up at where his eyes would be.

“Sh-show you what? I think you can see…everything.” I gasped out, a chill of arousal creeping down my spine at his increasingly menacing glare. He leaned forward, resting one elbow casually on his knee.

“Show me how you do it when I’m gone, pretty girl.” He muttered, reaching across the space between the cockpit’s chairs to brush my thigh so gently with his ungloved fingertips.

I felt my heart jump into my throat at his words. He wants to watch me take care of something he’s so much better at than me? There’s nothing I could do that could match how he does it. No amount of pleasure I could self-inflict that would come close to the way he stretched me, the way he filled me. 

But maybe this wasn’t about me. He knew I would never be satisfied like this. He knew that touching myself would only make me want him that much more. It was a special kind of torture to not be given everything I needed to get there. That was my punishment. Please him instead of myself. No matter how long it takes.

He sat back in his chair, leaning into the worn out cushions. His open thighs spread apart and his legs jutted out casually into the space between us. The tenting of his pants at his core was about the only thing giving way to the sight in front of him. The rest of his body was rigid and stern like the armor he wore. “Go on. I’ve waited long enough…” He grumbled, fiddling with the closure of his pants to give his growing length some room.

“Yes…Daddy.” I repeated, watching his rigid form break and twitch at the new pet name. I ghosted my hands back down my thighs slowly inching toward my exposed center. “When you’re gone…I like to pretend these hands are yours.” I muttered, gripping the flesh at my thighs the way he always did to keep me from squirming. 

My eyes shot up to the visor of his helmet as I slowly eased down to cup the soft skin of my pussy. I rubbed featherlight circles onto my clit and let out a breathy sigh. “You’re much b-better at this.”

He let out a hmph and I heard the opening to his bottoms rustling off him. He didn’t even bother removing his armor, enjoying the intimidating presence it gave him. “I know I am, little one. But you didn’t behave. Making you wait even longer now.” His hand slid past his open waistband and rested gently around his cock. He was toying with me in more ways than one. 

I could feel my entrance tense between my open legs, the needy hole quivering as I craved the very thing he was now patiently stroking. I sped things up, the pads of my fingers pressing a little harder into my clit and feeling a jolt of arousal go through me. 

I remembered doing this numerous times in our bunk alone while he was gone. But without him hungrily watching me like he was now. This was so much better. Being so bold under his watchful gaze was immensely more satisfying than wishing he was there to do this himself. Even though he wasn’t touching me, him just being there, his presence alone made me wet.

I tipped my head back to moan softly at the feeling, resting comfortably on the headrest. My body opened up a little more for him, the new angle exposing my neck. For once, I desperately wished he’d take that damn helmet off and kiss me here, there, everywhere. I whined as my fingers pushed gently against my clit, opening my eyes to look for a reaction from him. He just stared, like he wasn’t impressed.

“Din please I…can’t do this without you.” I whimpered, slowing down in frustration. I was too distracted, too desperate for his attention to focus on anything but him.

He sighed, the exhale sounding harsher than it did before. His words slurred with arousal, his hand still lazily pumping himself. “You had no problem doing it without me before.”

“But I don’t want to do it myself. I want you to. Please?” I asked with an exasperated pout, running my fingers down into my slick opening and collecting it again.

“You want my help? Daddy’s little brat needs a lesson?” He laughed softly, removing his other glove and casually tossing it to the floor. He stood up, his intimidating frame looming over my exposed body. “Give me your hand. I’ll show you how I do it.” 

I held it out to him and he took it gently, the wetness coating it now slipping between our fingers. His rough hand curled around my delicate one, as he eased a few fingertips back to my folds. I bit my bottom lip to hold back my soft moans. His touch on top of mine had so much more weight, the pressure finally biting back against the powerful arousal that had been brewing for three weeks. My opening reacted more intensely, trying to close around nothing.

“That’s….better. Feels better.” I moaned, his hands guiding tense looping shapes over my sensitive bud. My hips rolled into the touch, craving faster motion than he was willing to give. “M-more. I need more, Din.”

He stepped closer, the sound of his heavy metallic boots clambered against the side of the chair. His hand clasped mine tighter, easing his fingers down through my folds and stroking around my entrance. “I know what you want. I always know. You feel so good and wet. You been this wet the whole time? Needed me to be here playing with your little pussy instead of working?” He asked, guiding our fingertips to trace around the opening. My mouth dropped open and I moaned loudly.

“Yes. I wanted you to come fill me. To come home and feel how wet I got thinking about you while you were away. I wanted to wait for your cock to make me feel good. B-but I couldn’t help it…I can’t help myself. It f-feels too good, Daddy.” 

Before I realized what was happening, his fingers were gently prying me open. His wide fingers spreading my entrance taut around his thick digits, my own hand gripping his wrist desperately.

“I wanted to come fill you too. Thought about having this little pussy all wrapped around me. Such a good girl for me. You got all nice and wet and ready for me to come home. It’s ok you didn’t wait. You were just keeping it warm hmm?” He asked, curling his fingers up to dab at the spongy spot at the top. My toes curled and my hips bucked into him. His other hand pushed my thigh down, holding my writhing body in place.

“Mmmph yeah.” I responded, my other hand now gripping the armrest tightly. “C-can I show you how I did it now?” I smirked, finally feeling aroused enough to act out like he wanted me to.

“Yes, sweet girl. Be a good girl and show me. Show me and I’ll let you cum on my hands ok?” He responded, the thumb of his other hand sliding down my thigh to rub a few loving circles across my clit.

“Ok…Daddy.” I smirked, replacing his fingers with my own as he pulled them out. His fingers returned to the inside of his pants, rubbing his throbbing cock with my juices. I twisted my hips forward, maneuvering the entrance to give him a better view. I slid my fingers in and out of the hole, gasping as I mimicked the rhythm he started before. My chest began heaving, pleasure shooting down my spine in quick jolts. “Din- fuck- I’m so tight. Wanna…let you split me open…miss your cock in me.”

My mouth dropped open as a powerful wave of tingling pleasure coursed through me. With his little bit of help I was already so close.

His fist was tugging rapidly at his pounding cock, his pants now around his ankles on the floor. His helmet was tipped to the side lazily, as he focused all his attention on the pleasure coursing through him and who was causing it. “Fuck…good girl. Did you like when that…bounty hunter saw me fucking you?” He rasped, his fist twisting raggedly at the head where small pearls of pre-cum were beading up again. I matched my fingers pumping in and out of me to the speed of his quick tugs and practically sung at his words.

Because I did like it. Someone else watching as Din brought me to ecstasy made me feel stronger and more powerful than anything else. Knowing that another being could see how good he made me feel gave me focus. I loved it when he fucked me, I didn’t care who knew it. I wanted everyone to know how much I loved it. I loved him.

“Yes…Daddy…needed him to see that only you can make me feel good. Make me wanna…cum.” I groaned, my insides beginning to pulsate around my fingers. I was so close. Just from him talking me through it. “I’m c-close.”

His fist was now jerking faster, pumping him closer to a maddening climax he’d been chasing for the three weeks he was off hunting. “Pretty girl…fuck, me too. You fucking like showing how Daddy makes you feel. Want everyone to know who does this to you hmm? So hot that you’re so proud to call out my name for me. Say it. Call me Daddy again, pretty girl. Scream it when you come for me.” He rambled out demands between desperate breaths. 

I closed my eyes tightly and moaned, the pounding of my walls against my fingers reminding me of how his thrusts always felt when he rutted into me. My fingers weren’t big enough to replicate him, but it still felt vaguely familiar enough to get me there while he was gone. 

But he wasn’t gone. He was right before my eyes. Watching me. Calling for me. I felt the overwhelming sensation overtake me and my walls collapsing on top of my fingers. I was cumming. Hard. 

My thighs tightened, shaking against the armrests as I convulsed. My back arched off the chair and I screamed. “Daddy!!” My eyes fluttered, but I was determined to keep them open. I repeated his name over and over as the waves of orgasm crashed through me.

His hips were thrusting him forward into his fist, the vocoder making his harsh grunting metallic, but lovingly familiar. I watched his entire body tense at the sound of his new pet name falling from my lips. His helmet was focused only on where my fingers were buried inside me. Without warning, I felt my fingers slip out, being replaced by the familiar thickness of his.

“Good girl. Cumming for me. Cum right on my fingers. Let me feel what’s mine, my pretty girl.” He curled his fingers up, tipping his helmeted head back to groan at the feeling. The cockpit filled with the squelching sounds of him coaxing the climax out of me. Filthy moans spilled from my lips as he pumped his fingers into my collapsing walls. “What do you say when Daddy lets you come like this?”

I gazed up innocently into the dark visor of his helmet and whined, overwhelmed by how good it felt and overpowered by the sheer presence of him towering above me. My chest was heaving under the top I still wore, hiding far too much of me from his greedy eyes. “Th-thank you.” I sighed, reaching my hands out, desperate for him to accept them and praise me for my submission.

He chuckled darkly, “Thank you…who…?” he slowed his pumping fingers and pressed up into my favorite oversensitive spot with unbearable pressure.

“Daddy. Thank you, Daddy.” I whimpered, curling my hand into his which now rested openly on my hip bone.

“That’s right. That’s a good girl.” His ungloved thumb brushed over the back of my hand affectionately. I rolled my hips slowly as I repelled down from the peak, my spasming walls coating his fingers in my spend. As quickly as I’d faded, the burning in my core sparked again. I tipped my head back to the chair’s headrest and moaned, his helmet snapping up to follow me. 

“M-more…I need more…” I muttered breathlessly, as the high of my orgasm faded into more ruthless desire for him. Three weeks without him meant the need in my body was not going down without a fight. Arousal had a downright evil grip on my body that was tempting him to come conquer it, the way only he could. “I want your cock. Please.”

“Is that what you want? Hmm? You gonna beg me to fuck you? Being without me is what’s making this little pussy so desperate?” He taunted, pushing his prying fingers deeper and rubbing slow, tense circles on my clit.

“Yes, Daddy. I need you to fuck me more. Want you so bad. Please.” I whined, rolling my hips up to chase his touch and force his hands to work faster. Working me up was so easy for him, all he had to do was stare at me, look terrifyingly intimidating and it made my pussy clench with want.

He was powerful and overwhelming and so strong, but he was so good to me, always satisfying, always giving me everything I needed. He took care of me, in every sense of the word. I saw right past his cold metal exterior into a heart that loved even more intensely than he looked.

“Good girl. I like you like this. So obedient, so pretty begging for my cock. You’re gonna take all of me. Everything I give you. Want you to feel how much I’ve missed you.” A quiet muffled chuckle fell from his lips as he slid his fingers from inside me. 

His strong beskar covered arms curled underneath my thigh and around my waist as he lifted me off the chair and into his arms. Slowly, he slid my dripping cunt along the heat of his pounding length and moaned loudly, slicking himself up torturously. 

“Feel what missing you does to me? How fucking hard I get when I can’t have this perfect pussy wrapped around my cock whenever I need you?” He muttered harshly, sounding more strangled through the vocoder than he ever had.

His cock slid thick and throbbing through my folds, the pounding against my overstimulated clit making my head spin. “You f-feel so good.” I muttered, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders and gazing helplessly into where I knew his eyes were behind the helmet.

I imagined his pupils were blown wide with lust and sex crazed excitement, ready to consume his fill of me. His eyes were probably brown. Intense, deep and mysterious, but comforting, warm and safe. Just like him. I wouldn’t know for sure because he will probably never take that goddamn helmet off. But it was okay, he’d still have me on my knees, at his mercy, hopelessly attracted to him anyway.

He walked us back to the Crest’s dashboard, buttons and switches blinking as we hurdled through the galaxy to force knows where. He tore his cape from his back, sliding it over top of the navigation controls and setting me down on top of it. My bare toes just skimmed the cool durasteel floor, his bare bottom half standing between my open thighs. 

He panned across the transparisteel, watching the blue streaks of hyperspace pass over us. The trails of starlight bounced off his reflective mirror of a helmet, basking him in the dazzling glow of entire galaxies of stars and planets. He was quite a sight on his own without practically an entire star system dancing across him, but even more so now as he stood before me as the master of my universe.

Slow hands traced up my thighs, along my sides, up my rib cage and over my head. He was easing my shirt off my torso, his way of silently requesting to see all of me. I smiled up at him, the urge to unabashedly flirt with him rising in my belly again. I was now entirely bare in front of him, presenting myself as a willing gift on the helm of his ship. 

The untrained eye probably couldn’t tell which one was his more prized possession. Though, right now, with the way his hands were fervently relishing in exploring every untouched inch of me, it had to be me that he spent every waking second thinking about at night. 

Me that he dreamed of coming back to when his hunts were complete. 

Me that he would show off proudly at every spaceport and backwater world we stopped at.

“My girl. My gorgeous, sweet girl. Sprawled out so fucking exposed…on my ship like this…even better than I imagined.” He tipped his helmet down, guiding his length back through my waiting entrance. He lifted his hands, securing them on the ship's dash on either side of my body and thrusting his hips forward. He pressed the tip through my opening and exhaled, the feeling of me beckoning him inside too much to handle all at once. His vocoder crackled, harsh breaths muddling up the usually unnerving sound.

“Din…please. Don’t be gentle. I can take you. All of you. Use me, please.” I whimpered, reaching a hand up to grasp for any part of him, truly desperate to feel him tear through me again. His hands wrapped around my thighs as he shifted me upwards.

With no further hesitation, he plowed inside me, his grip on my legs keeping me from moving at all as he parted my swollen lips and paused, letting me adjust. I crumbled at the sheer power of having to stretch around him, my back arching dramatically up toward his unmoving frame.

“Fuck,” He swore, his entire body rolling forward to press deeper inside my heat. “You miss me?” He teased, mocking me with my own words from earlier and rolling a few shallow thrusts through me.

“Yes, Din…I missed your cock in me so much. Needed you.” I gasped, as he pulled out steadily, only to snap his hips up and start a building rhythm. The bare skin of his thighs slapped against mine, each thrust driving himself further into my cunt. The pleasure swelled through me again, anticipation crashing down on me like a wave that finally broke. He was blindingly massive, his thickness too much for my insides to resist taking desperate hold of. My heart pounded in my throat as I engulfed him, all of my focus centered on how he felt pressing delightfully into all sides of me at once.

“Hmm I can tell. You’re so tight. Needed me to come stretch you out didn’t you, my sweet girl?” He reached up to knead my breast harshly in his hand and chuckled. “Little pussy is mine to take care of. All I think about when I’m gone. How you feel gripping me tight, those little sounds you make for me…fuck, you’re so good.” He groaned as I felt myself pulsating around him. 

The drag of his swollen cock inside me was sending a delightful rush of pleasure through all the nerves in my body. I gripped the tattered cape he set me on top of, praying to every star above that I didn’t accidentally press any buttons and drop us out of hyperspace.

“It’s yours, Daddy. I’m- I’m yours.” I moaned, rolling my hips forward to clash with his own. He grunted at the sound of skin slapping skin, our joined centers grinding together deliciously. My eyes rolled back at the repeated contact, the intensity of his strong thighs forcing mine open making me shudder.

“I love it when you call me that. Fuck…I love it. I’m your fucking Daddy.” He growled, his thrusts bottoming out inside me as a kind of cruel reward. I cried out underneath him at his claiming of the nickname I didn’t mean to spill out so soon.My back arched in response, the sharp pain of him prodding the deepest spot he could find within me felt like sparks bursting through my chest. 

If he was any other man, I’d have kissed him so hard right now. But his helmet just glared down at me, my own totally fucked out eyes reflecting back. I’d never ask him to remove it, even as badly as I wanted him to. As badly as I wanted to look at the real face of the man I’d give everything I had to. As much as I wanted to taste his lips and breathe his air and twist my tongue with his. 

This was who he was. A wall of indestructible beskar that permanently disguised him as an impenetrable force of a man to anyone that crossed his path. That hid him away from everyone. Everyone, except me, who had somehow slipped through the cracks of nearly every wall he’d put up. He allowed me to see him, the man inside who no one ever sees. I loved him, regardless of whatever or whoever he was underneath there.

I reached for him and landed clinging hands on his shoulders. He gripped my hips for leverage and continued pumping into me at a brutal pace. The sounds emitting from his helmet were just barely audible through his panting exhales. I tore at the fabric around his neck, desperate to taste some part of him. I dragged slow, laving kisses in the hollow where his shoulder met his neck. 

He hummed, the salacious contact with his bare skin this close to a spot no one ever saw made him shudder. “Mmm easy with that, gorgeous girl…or I’m not going to last as long as I need to with you.” I smirked against his skin and nipped love bites along his collar bone, as I removed the beskar plating from his shoulder.

“I want these off. I…want to see all of you. As much as I can…please?” I asked, tipping my head to look up at him and pouting. His hand slid up my neck and held me steady as he thrusted up hard. My pouting expression broke as I cried out a powerful moan. “Din! Fuck!”

Suddenly, he was lifting me off him and spinning me onto my stomach on the dashboard. The light of hyperspace streamed into my eyes and prevented me from making out much in the otherwise dark cockpit. The sound of clothes shuffling and armor falling filled the room, leading me to realize he was doing exactly as I asked. Sure, I’d seen most of his naked body before, but him baring his all to me never gets old and it excited me even more.

My hole spasmed around nothing now as I imagined the broad width of his shoulders, the solid plane of his chest, the way his lower torso tightens in anticipation when I kiss down the front of him. He wasn’t intimidating under my touch. He was intoxicating and so tempting, without even trying. 

I turned my head around for a glimpse of the alluring sight I’d imagined so many times before, but his helmet snapped up and his hand curled around my neck gently. He tipped my head down away from my view of him and forced me to go starblind gazing at hyperspace out the cockpit window. More metallic sounds of armor being shucked off him rang out before a barely audible hiss and a loud thunk followed.

He tutted softly, “from now on…don’t turn around unless I say. Understand me?” His words sounded clearer than I’d ever heard. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t have… 

His fingertips applied deeper pressure against my neck, his entire body slowly weighing down on top of mine. His center bent him forward along my back, his chest pressed to my spine, and warm breath fanned across the side of my neck. 

He did. He’d removed his helmet. He’d never done that before in front of me. Never.

“Do you understand?” He repeated, the deep, smooth warmth of his voice with no modulation wrapped itself around me. The deepest, most powerful form of seduction was the sound of him, the real him, ringing in my ears. My skin erupted in goosebumps under his grip and he chuffed, definitely noticing the effect this was having on me.

I needed more. I craved his words in my ear as much as I did his touches to my body now. I wasn’t going to get any of that if I didn’t respond to his question. “Yes, Daddy…I do.” I mewled, any of my more devious plans of resisting him for fun dissolving as he’d torn down the last obstacle between us. I was a goner. “You…took it off…for me?” I asked so quietly and delicately I almost didn’t sound like myself. 

His grip on my neck shifted down and he exhaled softly, an amused and delighted lilted laugh filling my ears. He sounded so beautiful without the helmet on that I silently cursed whatever person decided on forcing him to wear it in the first place. He slowly brushed the hair away from my neck and tipped his bare face as close to mine as he’d ever been before.

Dry, soft lips pressed painfully delicately into the juncture where my neck met my jawline, his warm tongue flitting out to taste the skin he’d always touched. I held my breath, refusing to let any other sense get in the way of feeling his lips on me for the very first time. One small kiss turned into two, turned into three. His own breathing sped up, his nose bumping against my jaw spreading air along skin wet from his trailing kisses. I slammed my eyes shut, just feeling and hearing him without the helmet was enough for me. He didn’t have to show me his face unless he was ready and I wouldn’t push him. 

“I did.” He finally responded, pulling back from my neck and turning my face toward his again. “Don’t open those pretty eyes.” His thumb grazed over my temple and he leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine. Sweeping, wavy curls brushed against my skin and I smiled. So his hair is a little curly and a little messy. My lips parted, ready to confirm for him that I wouldn’t open my eyes for anything and instead was met with his warm, plush lips pressing into mine.

They say when a star explodes, it burns so brightly and so powerfully it can be seen lightyears away, no matter how big or small the star is. Kissing him felt like that. The tiniest little action seemingly so insignificant to the casual observer felt like a galaxy shattering moment in time. Every little beam of light steaming past us at hyperspeed was dull and slow and lifeless compared to the blooming glow of light that seemed to burst inside me. Inside both of us. 

His hands, so rough and hardened from battle and bounty hunting and force knows what else, were delicate and passionate as he tipped my chin up toward him to deepen the kiss. Our noses bumped every so often and I giggled softly every time we broke for air. His tongue slipped against mine, slowly drinking in intimacy he might’ve never felt the likes of in all his life. Teeth grazed lips and kisses dragged down jawlines and under necks, the softest, amorous moans filling the pauses in action.

“Din…I lo-“ I whispered, his repeated kisses breaking up whatever phrase I’d been planning on speaking.

“Keep your eyes closed. I…I want you to hear my real voice when I fuck you this time, my perfect girl.” He said, thick arousal deepening the smooth sound of his maskless voice and making my insides erupt with an intense need for him, stronger than I’d ever felt before. I moaned and nodded my head, unable to come up with words eloquent enough to describe how badly I needed him to fuck me. His lips curled into a wicked smile against my cheek as he slowly disappeared from in front of me.

Soft hands slid down my sides, caressing every dip and curve in my frame and stopping to dig into the swell of my hips. I rolled them forward, opening up my entrance for his taking. However he wanted to fill me, at whatever strength, at whatever speed, I was ready and willing.

A palm spread on my lower back and angled me down onto him as he shoved into me so deeply it felt like he was shifting parts inside me to make room. I cried out, a mix of gasps for air and profane moans spilling out of me. “-oh fuck.” I wailed, rocking my hips back into him, desperate for more. The spread of my lips around him again felt so good it was almost painful and I reached a hand back hoping he’d take it for some sort of comfort. He instantly received it, locking his fingers around my forearm and I followed suit.

His cock pounded against my swollen walls, spearing himself through the squelching pressure of my pussy collapsing around him. I heard him moan for the first time without his helmet, no exhaling breaths blocking out the noise. He was swearing under his breath, muttering through gritted teeth and groaning with each snap of his hips. The beautiful noises of a man’s torturous pursuit of pleasure sounded better falling from his lips than from any other man in the galaxy. I was sure of it. 

I rocked back into him, increasing the speed and providing rebounding pressure against his thrusts. I dug my hands onto the dashboard for control and twisted my hips as I pounded back onto him at the same speed. He let out a deep moan, squeezing the fullness of my ass and guiding me onto him more. I put in just as much work as he did, his relentless drive for me spurring my libido.

He deserved this. He’d revealed everything to me, bouncing on his perfect cock was the least I could do to please him. Heat was simmering down into the building coil of tension in my belly and seeping down his cock every time he sheathed himself inside my heat. I could feel my walls constricting tighter and tighter while the massive swell of him battled and tore them further apart. 

I was dancing on the edge of pleasure, dangerously close to falling over into overstimulation and not caring. I’d keep letting him fuck me until tears fell down my cheeks and until he’d finished enough times inside me that his cum dripped down my open thighs. There’s nothing in the universe that could stop me from chasing the high only he could carry me to.

High pitched and breathy moans left my lips as he relentlessly fucked into me, spreading my thighs now with his hands to open me up wider. His thrusts overpowered mine and he stood tall behind me, taking in the sight of me letting him bury himself in my cunt with everything he had. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl from now on? Wait for me to come home to make you feel good like this? Save this perfect little pussy for me, hmm?” He asked, the teasing questions between salacious groans sending a burning heat into my core so unbearable I whimpered, hot tears beginning to pour down my cheeks.

“Yes.” I muttered inaudibly, blubbering and moaning as he delved deeper, slamming his cock into a spot so sensitive I threw my head back and screamed.

“Can’t hear you. Little louder for me.” He scolded, the venomous taunt sending a rolling current of pleasure from head to toe.

“Yes! Yes, Daddy, I will.” I cried, biting my lip and feeling the surge of pleasure start to drown me as his cock slammed that perfect sensitive spot again.

“That’s right, my sweet girl. Your pleasure is mine to give. Don’t you ever forget it.” He said, bringing a hand down to slap my ass to validate the sentiment and his authority. His mark on my ass might as well be my signet and I made a note to myself to bring this up to him later, to make him laugh. He’d like that little quip. Funny and dirty and smart all at once.

The same hand that struck me to inflict just that little bit of pain was suddenly sneaking around the front of me. He hoisted my ass higher in the air, changing the angle to press his cock downward into me and allowing him to run his fingers along my clit, swollen with inattention and need. My eyes rolled back behind closed lids and my mouth dropped open in a silent scream as he slowly rolled my clit between his two thick fingers. I felt my insides tightening as the surge of orgasm flowed through me, trying to topple me as it threatened to rip through me.

Din pulled my hips against him tightly, rocking into me slowly as his cock prodded into the same spot that made my resolve crumble and my brain go fuzzy. “Go ahead, you’ve been such a good girl for me. Cum on my cock, baby. Cum so fucking hard. Fuck- you’re gonna take me with you.” He gritted out, his harsh breathing sending hot exhales up my back and only serving to make me crash even harder.

His fingers on my clit twisted tighter circles on the sensitive bundle and I felt myself snap. Every muscle in my body tightened as I felt him bottoming out and his length pulsing inside my opening. I paused at the precipice, desperate to hold off my own orgasm until his hit him too. I held my breath, tightening my walls around him until I felt warmth spurting up to coat them. A loud choked out and gasping moan surrounded me and shoved me over into uncharted territory.

“Daddy!” I wailed, finally letting go as he spilled over and over again deep inside my cunt. His hips grinding into my ass kept his cock sheathed inside me, as my entire body writhed around him. I shook as the orgasm rocketed through me, tearing the life out of me and immediately quelling the painfully overwhelming need he’d left me with for weeks on end. He lazily pumped into me a few more times, chasing the overstimulating high that my spasming cunt was giving him.

“Fucking stars above, sweet girl. You’re fucking the life out of me.” He laughed, exhaustion filtering into his voice where unbridled lust once coated it. “Can’t get enough of you.” He whispered, his body collapsing on top of me and his hands turning my face enough to capture my lips in his. I clutched onto his neck desperately and tangled my hands in hair I could finally touch. My tongue danced dazzlingly strong kisses against his own and he pulled away, gasping for air only to grasp my lips with his own for more.

He pulled out slowly, the spilling warmth of his seed overflowing the space inside me. The white fluid flooded to my entrance and dripped down to the cockpit floor, the sound making him pull away with intrigue. His body heat was now painfully absent as he stood behind me, spreading my thighs open and watching his cum leak out of me. He chuckled in satisfaction and whistled in awe at the sight before him.

I expected him to put his helmet back on and go to the fresher to get something to clean me up with. Instead, I heard him thump to his knees and run his fingers through my soaked, cum covered folds. “Now…what do you say when Daddy lets you come like this, sweet girl?” He asked, his fingers now running through the wet mess to collect it. I heard him hum followed by a lewd pop. He was tasting what we’d done.

“Thank you, Daddy.” I panted, still in a state of bliss and too content to care what I looked like right now. “Guess you aren’t too mad I sprung this kink on you like this.”

“Guess not, good girl. Now spread 'em wide for me, I’m gonna lick you clean.”