#basically its just him seeing mike in the living room and running quickly to his house because he needs to grab some things

[wu-does-art]

au where mike narrowly escapes the upsidedown while on patrol and gets an obscure curse to be a catboy for a month. this is amusing to everyone but mike.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

before the incident happen Steven, mike and y/n are good friends , steven got miki, mike have squirtle and y/n got bulbasaur. y/n is not good at battling but good at support steven and mike. when steven won and become the champion y/n congratulations both of them and y/n give mike an suggestion to fill out the pokedex instead, mike agreed to this. when the incident happen steven left, y/n comfort mike when he blame himself but y/n keep telling him that its wasn’t his fault it was the trading machine. when steven return and tell mike that he going to sleep y/n have a bad feeling about it so they suggested to stay their home for the night which steven and mike agreed to this. later on night steven quietly left to get missingno and return to mike room and about to strangle mike y/n rush in and push steven, steven is angry at y/n to let fake miki in peace but y/n keeping telling steven "is this miki want this?" then y/n pull out they pokeball and threw it and tell venasuar to used vine whip to stop steven and turn on the light to see the fake miki. steven is shock and crying "I just want her back and I miss her so much!" then the fake miki disappeared, y/n comfort steven and telling him "it wasn’t you or mike fault, its just an accident" when steven crying and hear a voice " don’t forget I’m with in your heart" steven see the window and saw miki in a ghost form with sadness oh her face, steven realise his anger and sadness "what have I done...." (woah that my longest ask I ever got)

And this is my longest Pokepasta fic thus far!! Which is basically my retelling of Strangled Red’s story (but with Y/N and a bittersweet ending au)

......................

While you weren't the very best at Pokémon battles, you were an excellent supporter of those who dedicated their lives to it.

For instance, there’s your best friends Steven and Mike. You’ve known the brothers for years, the three of you dreaming of the day you could train your very own Pokémon.

When the time finally arrived, they chose Charmander and Squirtle respectively, while you happily picked Bulbasaur. Immediately they bickered over the superior Pokémon and initiated a battle, in which Steven achieved his first victory. You were proud of him, but declined when he offered to battle you next.

Instead you remained in Pallet Town, quietly training your Bulbasaur and other captured Pokémon in peace while the two explored the region to conquer the gyms and earn badges.

You had a nice garden of berry trees and a small stock of potions should the brothers or any of your friends need them for their Pokémon. Some Team Rocket goons came along to steal your supplies and kidnap your Bulbasaur, but they evolved into Ivysaur, attacking with a powerful Solar Beam that sent the evil-doers running scared.

Nobody was going to harm your beloved grass-type on your watch.

Meanwhile, you’ve overheard news that Steven was gaining quite the reputation throughout Kanto, as his Charmander--who he named Miki--proved to be much stronger than others of her species. And she was quick to evolve into a powerful Charizard.

She swept the competition when fighting the Elite Four; type disadvantages and super effective attacks didn’t stop her one bit. Soon afterwards, she and her trainer were back in a familiar setting:

Facing off against Mike and his Blastoise.

Against all odds, Steven won and earned the title of champion, which was quickly televised as news reporters flocked to Indigo Plateau.

You were elated to see the brothers shaking hands on TV. You couldn’t be prouder of what they achieved throughout their long journey.

Once they returned home, you threw them a big party alongside your recently-evolved Venusaur and your main Pokémon team to celebrate. While Steven deserved it for becoming champion, you made sure Mike wasn’t left out, saying that him beating all the gyms and the Elite Four was no small feat.

It was a huge victory for both of them--your lifelong friends.

All in all, it was an amazing day.

Probably the best day of your lives.

............

“Heya, how’s the Pokedex coming along?”

“Oh great! I just need one more Pokémon to complete it, then I can finally get my hands on that sweet, sweet diploma.”

“Nice! So who is it? Mew?”

“......uh, no.”

“...Aerodactyl..or Zapdos?”

“....I have all the Legendaries and fossil Pokémon. You’ll laugh if I tell you who I’m missing..”

“Try me.”

“It’s Charizard, okay?” Sighing, Mike slumped over the couch in defeat, finally ripping the bandaid off. His face was flushed as he stared at the screen of his Pokedex, frowning at the empty space beside Charmeleon.

Although you did promise not to laugh, you couldn’t help but be slightly amused that he was missing the final evolution of a starter, of all things.

Ever since Steven won the championship, Mike revealed to you that he was still a bit salty over losing, pouting over it in recent days. So you suggested that he tried finishing the Pokedex instead, and he loved the idea.

He got to work searching for all the Pokémon he missed in his journey, even revisiting the most dangerous places. 

Of course, his heart was bigger than his brain most of the time, and you expected him to come back beaten up and empty handed...

Only to show up at your doorstep beaten up, but with an annoyed Mewtwo at his side, grinning from ear-to-ear. He even proudly admitted to finding a shiny or two.

Least to say, you were very impressed.

So to learn he acquired that one before a Charizard had you shaking your head. “Seriously? That’s all?"

“..I know it’s dumb. I should’ve had one since the beginning. But I’ve had crap luck with finding a Charizard. I’d train a Charmander but that just takes too much time..” Pouting slightly, Mike tapped his fingers against the table, thinking.

Then he suddenly sat up and snapped them. “Aha! I know what to do! I’ll just borrow Steven’s!” His eyes practically shimmered as he looked at you. “We can trade!!”

You blinked. “You really think he’d give up Miki that easily-?”

“Oh no, no, no! I-It’s only gonna be a temporary trade!” He stammered in correction. “She needs to recognize me as the trainer in order for the entry to register. Besides, Steven said he just needed a Blastoise...so we’ll swap our Pokémon for a quick second and then swap ‘em right back! That way, we finish the dex at the same time.”

“Hm, sounds like a good idea. As long as he’s okay with it.” You nodded in agreement, smiling.

“Yeah! He can trust me. Man, I’m a genius.” He laughed, standing up and stretching before eagerly grabbing his Pokedex and bag. “I’ll go talk to him about it. Smell ya later, [y/n]!”

"Later, Mikey!”

With that, he left your house, waving goodbye to Venusaur--who was tending to the plants on your windowsill. They waved a vine right back.

He was super excited. 

Why didn’t he think about this sooner?

.............

“I don’t want to.”

“What? Come on, I just gotta borrow her for a second to finish the Pokedex.” Mike pouted as he and Steven chatted in front of the computer. “The entry won’t register unless she recognizes me as master for just a second.”

“...but she’s my Miki.” The latter muttered, clutching his bag’s strap closer to his body.

Least to say, this was a side to Steven that Mike’s never seen before. Of course he knew how much Miki meant to him, but to be this clingy seemed ridiculous. It’s not like he was going to run off with his Charizard the moment she was in his possession.

"I promise I’ll give her back. Come on, please?”

“........”

“..please? I talked to [y/n] about it, and they said it’s fine.”

Despite Steven’s continued hesitance, he eventually gave in and nodded silently. “Fine..let’s be quick about it.”

“Alright! This will take just a sec.” Mike ducked down to ensure all the cables were connected, before getting back on the chair. He booted up the trading system on the computer, the tubes extending outwards. “Then we’ll both be Pokemasters! How awesome would that be?” He chuckled.

As they took out their respective starter pokeballs, Steven stared down at Miki’s with a slight frown.

The idea of giving someone else the Charizard he adored and cared for, even temporarily, made him nervous.

But...he could trust his own brother, right? Mike would never try to steal his precious Pokémon.

And besides, you said it was okay, too. So why was he so worried?

Certain that promise will be kept, Steven started the trade first, setting the pokeball down on the table. It was vacuumed up into the machine, displaying a small sprite of a Charizard as it travelled through the tube.

He relaxed his shoulders a little, waiting patiently for the transfer to finish.

“Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“In case you’re worried..I also promise to give you back-”

SNAP

The loud sound startled the brothers, who looked back at the screen and realized it was somehow frozen, with Miki in the middle of the tube.

“Huh? What’s going on?” Mike’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion as he tapped on some of the keys, but nothing on-screen changed. “That’s weird. Must be glitching or something..”

Steven, on the other hand, felt his heart sinking into his stomach, wondering what the hell that noise was and why the trade suddenly stopped working. “What do you mean? I thought you checked this thing. I-Is Miki alright?”

“..I-I don’t know. I swear everything’s been updated..” Mike kept trying to get the damn thing to work, though he was starting to panic as nothing was happening. “Shit..shit...I’ve never had this issue before.”

“You mean..she’s stuck in there?!”

Maybe, I don't know! I’m gonna have to reboot-”

“NO!” Steven snapped, realizing what a huge mistake this was. “We need to get her out NOW!! Shutting it down might hurt her!!”

“We don’t know that! She might be fine!”

“Well how do you know that for-?!”

However, they stopped arguing as the screen became overwhelmed with glitches, before abruptly shutting down. And they stared at it, a tense silence falling over them both as they tried to process what happened to the machine.

Then the tubes slowly retracted, though not before one spat out Miki’s pokeball the same way it entered. But it was heavily damaged, splits and cracks all over its surface. 

It managed to roll over towards Steven, who picked it up with shaky hands to examine it..

Horrified to find a bloody cable dangling out of it.

“....Miki?”

..........

[One Year Later]

While Steven was away visiting Pokémon Tower, you decided to check up on Mike. You knew he couldn’t have been doing well at all...considering it’s a rather somber anniversary:

The day of Miki’s death.

Investigators looked at the trading machine in the brothers’ home and ruled it as accidental due to faulty internal wiring. Upon examination of her body and the pokeball, they theorized that it got damaged when the system glitched, somehow allowing the cords to breach the device and wrap around her throat. 

The machine still attempted to finish the transfer...essentially strangling the poor Charizard to death as she was dragged through the tube.

As to what caused the glitch remained unknown. Several Team Rocket grunts were interrogated, suspected of sabotaging the machine remotely...yet all of them denied having such knowledge or even the technology to do that.

Other trading computers throughout the region were checked, with the majority of them having no issues. Even so, everyone in Kanto was advised to use them with caution and do “test” transfers with empty pokeballs first.

Despite there being no arrests, it didn’t make Steven feel any better about what happened that tragic night.

He lost his favorite Pokémon, his starter, his ace....his precious Miki.

When she died, it was like a part of him died with her.

The depression hit him so bad, he gave up on everything that made him the great champion of Kanto. He released his Pokémon, abandoned his badges...and even handed all of his money to you.

You tried convincing him to keep some for himself, but he got so angry that he cried, saying it’s useless to him since “it couldn’t buy her back”.

Needless to say, you reluctantly took every last dollar.

It was heartbreaking to see him throw away all that he worked for, unable to cope with the grief. But then again, they were constant reminders of how Miki helped him achieve those things..so it’s understandable that he’d want to get rid of them.

Of course, you remained friends--same with Mike. You knew it was nobody’s fault, only the trading machine’s.

Yet their relationship was forever strained, a rift that wouldn’t be so easily mended. Over the past year, they hardly spoke to each other unless it involved yelling or crying. There’s very few days where they had casual chats that didn’t escalate.

Both of them were just shadows of their former selves.

So while Steven was out of town paying his respects, you gave him space on that, opting to see how Mike’s doing.

But the emotional and physical toll this day took on him was clear as he answered the door. His spiky brown hair was even more of a mess, and it’s obvious he had been crying and didn’t bother to hide it. He was still in his pjs, too, a blanket around his shoulders.

The guilt continued to haunt him, considering he suggested the trade that inevitably killed Miki. He kept his Pokémon and eventually completed the Pokedex...but he felt numb when given the diploma.

If anything, it seemed like a hollow achievement--one that he felt unworthy of despite Professor Oak’s reassurances.

You never even saw it, but that’s not why you’re here.

“Hey, Mikey. Can I come in?”

“You sure you wanna be around a Pokémon murderer?” He joked dryly, sniffling as he invited you inside anyway.

Together you sat on the couch, and you looked at him as he took shaky breaths. You could tell he was about to cry again, so you scooted closer to hug him. “I keep telling you..you’re not a murderer.” You spoke softly, rubbing his back. “You didn’t mean for that to happen.”

Immediately he crumbled in your arms, dampening your shoulder with tears as he began to sob, shaking. “I-I can’t...stop blaming myself, though. Every night..I..I-I dream of her blood on my hands..and I hear Steven saying how much he hates me..a-and wants me dead.”

You held him closely, frowning. “Mike..”

“I shouldn’t have begged for that trade like...l-like a stupid little kid. He didn’t wanna do it, and I pushed him!! It’s all my fault..I-I killed her...”

“No. You didn’t kill anyone.”

“..b-but-”

“You didn’t cause the glitch. I know that for a fact. Something like that has never happened in the history of Pokémon trading..it’s nothing that you did, Mikey.”

“...were we just unlucky?”

“...yeah.” You regretted telling him that, but you both knew it was true.

There was no easy way to comfort him over this. No amount of words could ever ease the guilt that crushed his spirit. 

So you just held onto him for a little bit longer, knowing he needed you now more than ever.

After he calmed down, you decided to keep him company for the remainder of the day. His Blastoise also hung out with you both, as they understood his pain and missed Miki dearly, though they never blamed their master for what happened.

Later that evening, Steven finally returned home. He was somber as usual, shoulders slumped and exhaustion in his eyes as he looked around the now empty living room.

At last he was here, away from all the townsfolk who tried giving him crap out of “pity”.

It was all meaningless garbage, stuff that they could be using for themselves instead of wasting it on him

He internally scorned them for saying he should’ve gotten over it by now.

No..

Absolutely nothing could help him get over Miki.

Not when the sound of that snapping was still fresh in his mind, playing over and over like a record.

All he wanted to do now was sleep. He didn’t care about anything else. So he headed to the bedroom, finding you and Mike watching TV in there. The brunette glanced at him briefly upon seeing the door open, but was unable to say anything except a shaky apology before curling up in bed, turning away.

"Hey, Stevie.”

Looking at you, Steven simply nodded in greeting. His expression was blank, although his eyes watered as you stood up to hug him, finally allowing himself to be a bit more vulnerable around you.

While he didn’t show it as much as Mike, he appreciated your presence throughout this difficult year. You never pitied him, not like everyone else in town who told him to “move on” or shamed him for abandoning his champion status.

After letting you go first, he bowed his head, speaking in a hoarse murmur that you could barely hear despite him being right in front of you. “I’m going to sleep.”

Even though you were happy to hear him talking, you didn’t necessarily like the idea of the brothers being here all by themselves.

Not only because you wanted to be there during their time of grief..but also because you had a bad feeling in your gut. 

At that moment, you didn't know why. It simply didn’t feel right to leave them alone. Not tonight.

“Why don’t you guys spend the night at my place?” You suggested with a soft smile, noticing Mike glancing at you now. “A change of scenery might help. And I have two spare bedrooms if you don’t wanna share one.”

Both of them were silent for a few moments, though they both eventually agreed, wordlessly getting some of their things together for the sleepover.

Soon you all headed over to your house, getting settled in for the night.

You slept in your usual room while Steven and Mike took the spares, secretly relieved they didn’t have to share.

You made some teas to help with their insomnia.

However, Steven's remained cold by his bedside, as the solitude finally gave the ex-champion time to think.

He laid wide awake in bed, holding onto one single thought:

It was something he overheard back in Lavender Town..ghost stories of how it, a “taboo Pokémon”, was lurking in the waters of Cinnebar. Unlike manufactured digital Pokémon like Porygons, this one was a physical glitch living in the real world. 

It supposedly held an unfathomable power that violated natural laws, thus being forbidden from being caught by trainers.

These rumors used to scare him into not surfing out too far.

But...if it was truly capable of performing the impossible, then what if he could tame it? Control it like any ordinary Pokemon?

Maybe it could even help him, unlike all of these useless people of Kanto who claim “dead is best”.

No.

He wouldn’t accept that. He couldn’t keep living with the grief, knowing this world cheated him and took what he loved most away from him.

Why should he play fair?

It was about time he did something about it.

'I’m going to do it. IT can bring her back. IT can do anything..’

...............

Indeed, it was true.

Missingno, the glitch Pokémon, was right there in Cinnebar--almost as if it was waiting for him.

It immediately joined his side without any hesitation, and he used it back at Pokémon Tower, neglecting the professor’s warnings.

And it worked!

He got her back! It was like a goddamn miracle.

Now all he had to do was return to your home, eager to show you his beloved Charizard. Within her damaged pokeball, she slept soundly, and he refused to let go of it. She was still weak, but he vowed to make her strong again.

Just knowing his plan worked made him smile deliriously as he wandered throughout Kanto, not needing any bikes or flying-types to carry him. Hell, he didn’t even need a Pokémon to swim out to find Missingno!

It empowered him with a foreign dark force, stronger than anything a dark-type could cast upon him. But he didn't feel bad at all.

Far from that, actually.

For the first time in his life since the tragedy, he felt...happy.

He was so happy, he couldn’t stop smiling. And he wondered why all the trainers who were out this late suddenly averted their gazes as he walked by.

Even the officers didn’t try to stop him, instead nervously telling him to move along and stop staring at them.

They seemed to know the power he possessed.

He was living it..breathing it.

By Arceus, did it feel good.

After entering your house, Steven quietly locked the door before heading to the room where Mike was currently sleeping.

He stopped and loomed over his bed, staring down at him with such hatred..

How could he sleep at night, knowing that he’s suffering because of his selfish actions?

Something like that is unforgivable.

"STRANGLE”

A hushed, distorted voice whispered to him once, and his smile only grew more.

What a fitting end that would be for his brother...her murderer. It was slow, but quiet so you wouldn’t hear what was happening. That was fine by him.

He can make things look like accidents, too.

He was so close to getting her back.

They'll be reunited! Together forever!

That sounded delightful. All he needed to do was finish the job by avenging her.

“Goodbye.” He rasped, startling Mike awake as he looked up to see the tall figure staring down at him in the darkness of the room, terrified to his very core.

“Steven!!”

Tensing, Steven noticed you running into the room, only to freeze in shock at what he looked like:

His face was overcast with the darkest shadows, eyes glowing an eerie red, and his hair extremely frazzled--worse than a feral Arcanine’s mane.

But what was most horrifying about him was the pearly white grin that stretched from ear-to-ear.

It looked so..unnatural.

And you knew exactly why he was like this.

"Get away from him, now!!"

As you shoved him away from Mike, Steven stumbled back clumsily, seething at you for foiling his plan. "He told you.."

“You can’t do this, Steven. This isn’t going to change what happened!”

He didn’t understand the cost. What bringing a Pokémon back from the dead would do to this world..and to himself.

You couldn't let him go any further.

“No, but it worked. She’s here with me again. See?” Laughing hoarsely, he dropped a broken pokeball, watching as it rolled near the dark corner of the room. It opened up to reveal the shadow of a Charizard without a flaming tail.

You could barely see it, but it wasn’t the Miki you all knew and loved.

“Th-That’s not her, Steven..it’s lying to you. Do you think she would’ve wanted this?!”

“Yes.” He spat with such coldness, growing increasingly frustrated. “She’d want me to kill the bastard who took her away from me..this is the only way, [y/n]."

You just shook your head, knowing what you’ll have to do now. You didn’t wanna hurt him, but if there was any humanity left in him....you’ll have to bring that out somehow.

"I'm gonna ask you once..stop this. Put that thing back in the grave.”

“Never.”

“....then I’m sorry.” Reaching into your pocket, you grabbed a pokeball and tossed it to the floor. “Venusaur! Help me out!”

Your starter emerged with a growl. But upon realizing they’re in a bedroom and not on a battlefield, they glanced at you in confusion. “Ve? Venus?”

“Use Vine Whip on Steven.”

“...saur?” They swung their head towards Steven and M@#$, suddenly overcome with terror and bewilderment. But despite their scary appearances, Venusaur was conflicted about harming a human; they simply looked back at you. 

“Just trust me.” You pleaded.

“What..? You can’t do that!!” Steven shouted, gritting his teeth at your betrayal. “You can’t attack me with a Pokemon’s move!!”

“If you can cheat, so can I. Now USE VINE WHIP!!”

“WHY YOU-!!” He darted forward to tackle you, but a flash of green lashed out at him, slashing his hands with searing pain that made him cry out.

You stepped aside as he was then tripped by vines, collapsing to his knees. His back was heaving as he pressed his forehead to the ground, screaming in agony and frustration.

If he had to kill you, too..so be it. He'll strangle anyone who tried stopping him from being with Miki.

"Y-You want me to be unhappy...IS THAT IT?!! YOU DON'T WANT ME TO GET BETTER?!!"

"We do wanna help you, Steven..but not like this." You shook your head, rushing to Mike's side and sitting with him. He hugged you, trembling in fear. Venusaur joined you too and took a defensive stance.

Steven snarled animalistically as he stood back up, noticing the dozens of cuts on his fingers. He'll admit, your starter was smart and had some sharp thorns, but that only succeeded in pissing him off.

Then a sudden bright light illuminated the room, and he looked to see them retract their vine. He scowled. “I’ll burn you all alive...MIKI, USE-!!!” 

However, as he pointed to you and glanced at his Charizard at the same time..he suddenly stopped himself. 

His throat tightened upon seeing what she truly looked like, now that the darkness could no longer conceal her.

He was so confused.

What he brought back from the grave wasn’t Miki at all...but a glitchy rotting corpse that struggled to resemble her.

Her flesh was falling off, especially around the neck, muscle and skeletal remains exposed in countless places--and her wings had many holes in them. The pitiful thing could barely even stand, needing the walls to support her.

And her face..oh god, her face...

It was nothing but a decaying skull with veins, dried blood, and hollow sockets staring at him. 

The whine she emitted was horrendous, and full of glitches that pained Steven’s ears, as he covered them. ‘No..this..this can’t be...’ He was mortified, realizing his mistake.

It didn’t bring her back. Not at all. Instead it put an abomination in her place, feeding off of his guilt and rage.

It tricked him.

You had no idea how Steven would react to seeing the truth, but you gave Venusaur a pat on the head for their quick thinking.

For a while he stood there, but soon he was on his knees again. The darkness overshadowing his entire face was gone, instead revealing an expression of genuine anguish and tears.

“...y-you lied to me. I just..I just wanted her back!! I-I miss her..”

M@#$ tilted her head, emitting a softer yet heavily glitched growl.

“Leave...GET OUT!! YOU’LL NEVER BE HER!!” Steven screamed heartbrokenly, watching as the corrupt Charizard finally dissolved into pixels.

At last, she was gone..now that he saw through its façade.

You were relieved to see it let him go, returning him to his old self. So you got up and cautiously approached him, although you felt a vine loosely wrap itself around your hand.

“Saur?”

You looked back at Venusaur, smiling in reassurance. “It’s alright now. You did good.”

“..ven.” Nodding in understanding, they let you go, watching you walk over to the weeping man on the floor. You kneeled down, and he looked shocked to see you in front of him.

But before he could say anything, you pulled him into a hug. Despite his attempts to kill you and Mike..you knew that wasn’t him talking. This was one of your best friends.

You knew he was in there somewhere--and you were happy he was back.

“I-I’m so, so sorry..” He clung to you, shaking as he apologized over and over again. “I’m a monster. I...I-I thought..I could save her. But I just killed her again..”

His fingers still stung, but nothing was more painful than the misery and guilt in his heart.

“No you didn’t, Steven.” Tears pricked your own eyes as you soon helped him to his feet. He managed to sit down on the bed once you both made it over there, right next to Mike while you sat near Venusaur. “What happened wasn’t your fault, neither was it Mike’s. And I know she wouldn’t blame either of you guys for it.”

“Venus..ve..” Nodding in agreement, Venusaur rested their head on your lap, and as you pet them, you could see Mike and Steve staring at each other for the longest time. Their expressions were almost unreadable.

You wondered what would happen. It made you a little nervous.

But to your surprise, Mike made the first move as he hugged his younger brother. “I know you s-still hate me. You have every right to. But please..d-don’t do something like that ever again, okay? I..I can’t lose you, too, bro.” He sniffled, doing his best to keep himself together.

Steven, on the other hand, broke down once more upon hearing the hurt in his voice. He sobbed into his black shirt, finally allowing himself to be comforted by the other.

He knew he didn’t deserve any forgiveness..not when he tried trading his life for hers.

You were right about everything. This isn’t what Miki would’ve wanted.

“Char...”

Hearing a voice, he looked up, putting his chin on Mike’s shoulder as he glanced at the window. His eyes widened in disbelief upon seeing a certain Charizard’s ghostly reflection in the window.

It wasn’t that awful glitchy creature..but the real Miki.

A pinkish scar was visible around her neck, albeit barely visible, and a somber expression adorned her face. Her flaming tail flickered brightly against the night sky, as if it was lit anew.

She looked so real, as if she was right outside the window and wanted to crawl in. But Steven knew she wasn’t actually there.

She was gone. Nothing could bring her back. Not even it. He had to let her go.

The only part of her he could keep alive were the memories.

With a watery smile, he nodded to the reflection, watching as she smiled back and disappeared, though not before he heard that same voice in his head, this time in human language.

“Don’t forget, I’ll always be in your heart, Master. Keep that fire going.”

[chopshop-creationz]

I did that "if I was ina slasher" thing, plus what to do if you were

:readmore:

Jason:

Idk, stay off the camp grounds and you'll be fine I guess. If its 09 Jason we might have some trouble since he can run but then agian like I said before, Considering Jason is not the type to kill for absolutely no reason  distracting him long enough to book it would be the key here. 

Michael Myers:

Og mike is easy as long as you dont go into any one door rooms or places you'll easily be cornered. He wont run after you cus he just walks. Rz Mike .........welp I've lived a good life.. Ok for real though literally just never be in his line of site, dont even looks at him cus he'll still get you. I'd follow those rules and get to a public area quick (which wouldn't be available here :) )

Ghostface OG:

Other then block the number ;Lanky ass mofo, also trips a lot. Basically the opposite of MM, corner him and he cant run. Dont forget to bring a bigger knife, after all hes just using a dinky paring knife. I'd probably bully him on the phone before he even showed up and even if he did baseball bats are pretty good aginst intruders

Leather face (bubba Sawyer)

He also dosnt move very fast but if he does grab you your probably outta luck. Probably stay up areas like a tree like a mischievous cat. Personally I wouldn't even be in this shite but being short could make hiding a lot easier

Letherface (Thomas Hewett )

Idk I've never seen that one but hes very big so probably the same rules with RZ mike

Never be there in the first place

Billy Lenz

Idk really....like I guess dont say anything back on the phone? Not really sure what to say about the dude being in your attic the whole time just dont be a heavy sleeper. Being real I wouldn't have really cared about the phone calls, let him go on and then hang up lol. Once I'd figure he was hiding in my fuckin attic the whole time I'd answer agian to ask "did you see my boobs? >:v "hello sir?" "That's confidential material". After all my attic door is directly above my bedroom's door and I'd probably notice the tomfoolery goin on a lot quicker

Brahms Heelshire

Uhhhhhhhhhhh.......I guess do what the list says and follow the rules, I wouldn't be to botherd by some old couple asking me to watch their doll son (if I'm getting a good pay lol) about Brahms specifically, if we bein real , woulda figured that out pretty quickly "lol oops my worn PJs are missing? Haha who could have did that ? ;) haha "But no seriously, considering how he acts towards Gretta theres no real threat here? Well that is if he likes you and arnt some other dude up in the house without permission

The Sinclair brothers

Uhhh once again I dont know too much about them cus I've only seen clips from long ago. Vincent dosnt seem that hostile (exept for turning people into wax figures) Bo seems like a real peice of work though and I bet hes the real threat here. The little bro idk much about cus isnt he like at the very end for like 2 minutes?

[ladyseaheart1668]

Endless Summer Book 4: Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 56)

Description: The Catalysts attempt to return to their lives as River Skye finally comes home.  tagging: @endlesshero1122 @mysteli @feartheendlesssummer @whatmcsaid @tigerbryn11

Chapter 56: Not Over

Alodia

I almost can’t believe how quickly I start to feel better once the fever breaks. The pain, which had felt like some hellish demon with teeth made of red-hot iron gnawing at my lower back, begins to recede within hours. 

“That’s how it tends to go with an infection like this once we find the right antibiotic,” the doctor tells me. “You are fortunate, though. These days, a lot of bacteria have developed resistance to antibiotics. But the infection is responding well to treatment, and all your vitals and your blood work look good. And your daughter appears as healthy as a baby horse. ...I would just like to take a quick look at how you’re healing from the birth if that’s okay.” 

I nod, turning onto my back with Jake’s help as the doctor draws the curtain around the bed. Improved as I am, I know I’m not at full strength yet, because moving still hurts. I guess I must have winced, because the doctor raises an eyebrow in concern as she pulls on a pair of gloves.

“You okay there?” 

“I think so. Guess I’m still pretty sore.” 

“That’s to be expected. You probably won’t feel one-hundred percent for another week or two at least.” 

I draw my knees up and part my thighs while the doctor pulls up a stool at the foot of the bed and lifts the blanket. I keep my attention focused on Jake’s face above me and the pressure of his hand on mine as the doctor carries out her checks. Occasionally, I let my eyes wander around to the multiple bouquets and mylar balloons that have built up over the past couple days, gifts from the Catalysts, Tahira’s team, my aunt and uncle, and Jake and Diego’s parents. 

“Everything is healing beautifully. Stitches should be dissolved by next week. You’re probably going to be feeling pretty tender for a while though.” 

“Yeah, we had the whole tearing conversation with my OB in California some time ago.” 

“Good. If you have any pressing questions regarding the birth and recovery, you can of course ask me, or one of the maternity staff. We can also forward your hospital records to your regular OBGYN.” 

“How long do you think it will be before we can go home?” Jake asks. 

She pulls the blanket back down and stands, peeling off her gloves. “Well, the fact is, we want to get her and your baby out of here ASAP to lower the chances of either of them picking up a secondary infection.” She smiles at me. “Now that the fever’s gone, we’re gonna get you off the drip and onto some oral antibiotics, and we can pretty much start the discharge process immediately.” 

“So soon?” My own question surprises me, but it’s out of my mouth before I realize it’s on the end of my tongue. 

“Believe me, it’s better we get you both out of here.” 

“I know. It’s not that I want to stay here. It’s just...thinking about how we’re going to get home...how soon we can get home…” 

“That’s all taken care of, Princess. Aleister is having Castor and Pollux deep cleaned, and he and Grace are gonna put us up for a few days until Mike gets up here from Santo Domingo. Diego and Varyyn are with Estela and Quinn, and your aunt and uncle basically paid for hotel rooms for everyone else.” 

His infodump has my head reeling a little, but there was one particular tidbit I find myself fixing on. 

“Why is Mike…?” I trail off as realization crashes down on me in an icy wave. A bit of information I had nearly forgotten in my struggle to bring my baby safely into the world while fighting a fever. Jake wasn’t worrying about me for all that time from the safety of our home in California. I don’t know the details, but I have a sinking feeling that has something to do with the reason that Mike isn’t here with us now. 

Jake folds my hand between his palms, glancing at the doctor. “Hey...do you have everything you need? I’d like a few minutes alone with my wife, if that’s okay.” 

“Of course. I’ll get the ball rolling on your discharge.” 

I wait until I’m sure she’s well clear of the room before I reach to stroke Jake’s cheek. “...I know Lundgren got his filthy hands on you. ...Fiddler told me. ...I’m guessing he got a hold of Mike, too.” 

He leans into my touch. “...And Sean and Michelle. Nabbed us all as I was bringing ‘em back from the island.” 

“I don’t know if she told me that. That conversation got swallowed up in worrying about you, and then I got sick and River started coming, and…” I swallow, running my thumb along the fuzzy ridge of his cheekbone. “...Did they hurt you? Any of you?” 

He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “Knocked us all around a little. Michelle’s the smart one, of course, so she escaped the worst. ...Mike’s in Santo Domingo having his prosthetics repaired. Lundgren ripped them out ot torture him.” 

I shudder. “Oh, god...Oh, Jake, I’m sorry...I’m so sorry…” 

I’m crying before I realize it. And as soon as I do realize, it turns into sobbing. Jake reaches down to gather me in his arms and cradle my head against his shoulder, rocking me tenderly. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs into my hair. “It’s okay. He’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine. In a few days, we’ll be home with our baby.” 

“I w-wanna be home,” I hiccup. “I wanna be home with River, but I’m scared of leaving everyone again. I just wanna bring them all home with us…” 

“Well, it’s a very big house. ...On the other hand, you cram us all into the same house long term, it might start to feel less big. Plus, it would mean a brutal cross-country commute for some of them.” 

I can’t help chuckling a little bit, which makes the sobs start to die down. Jake gives me a moment to get myself under control before he speaks again. 

“...How are you feeling, Princess? Really?” 

“Physically?” I pull back gently to lie down on the pillow again. “Definitely better. My head is clearer, and I don’t hurt as much. But I’m still worn out. And by the way, you’re gonna have to make due with blow jobs for awhile, because it’s gonna be a long time before you stick that thing in me again, if ever.” 

It’s his turn to laugh, and he bends to kiss me. “Princess, I will tug it for the rest of my life as long as you’re still a part of that life.” 

“I will be a part of your life as long as the universe allows,” I promise. “...But Jake, we both know this isn’t over.” 

He sighs, and I see his forehead crease before he presses it to mine. “I know. I know you’re right. But for River’s sake--and mine--will you let the others take care of that for now? I ain’t saying don’t worry, because I know that’s impossible. But River and I need you healthy. Can you stand to let yourself be looked after for a while?” 

I feel a rueful smile tug at one corner of my mouth. “Am I to assume that arguing is pointless?” 

A tapping at the open door to the birthing suite distracts Jake from answering. We both look up to find Raj and Diego hovering in the doorway, Raj with a paper bag in his hand, and Diego with his right arm in a soft blue sling. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since River was born, and I sit up a little straighter as he hesitantly steps over the threshold. 

“...Are we interrupting?” 

The baby has started fussing, and Jake eases off the edge of the bed to go pick her up. I open my arms to Diego. Just before he rushes into them, I see his face twist with anguish. And as he falls against me, his one-armed grip is surprisingly strong. 

“Goddammit, Allie,” he whispers quiveringly. “Goddammit…” 

“...Did I scare you?” 

He pulls back sharply, enough so he can look me in the face, but he keeps a grip on my shoulder. “Did you scare me?! You had me on my knees saying the Ave Maria! Do you know how long it’s been since I said the Ave Maria?!” 

There isn’t really a lot I can say to that, but I smile ruefully. “...Thanks for staying with me.” 

“What, you thought I’d bail?” 

I snort. “God, no. But I can still be grateful.” 

“...You’re really okay?” 

I nod. “I’m fine. The fever is gone, and the wound doesn’t really hurt anymore. I’m still pretty sore down there, though.” 

A smile finally starts to play cautiously around his mouth. “...Well, that part’s Jake’s problem.” 

“How about you?” I ask, gingerly touching the strap of his navy blue sling. 

“That’s nothing serious. It was dislocated, but they popped it back in. Just got to wear this for a few more days, and take it easy once we get back home. ...Raj brought food, by the way.” 

“Oh!” I pull back a little to smile at Raj. “Sorry, big guy. I didn’t mean to ignore you.” 

Raj chuckles. “We’ll blame it on the new mommy brain and leave it at that. Speaking of which…” He shoos Diego back enough that he can drag my bed table over across my lap, and sets an insulated lunch box on top. “I figured you could do with something better than hospital fruit cups and oatmeal, so I brought you a special Raj lunch. Michelle supervised its creation, and it’s full of stuff that’s supposed to be good for new moms.” 

“What is it?” 

“So glad you asked!” With a flourish, he opens the bag, and pulls out each item in turn, presenting them like a game show prize lady. “A sandwich of salmon, spinach, and poached egg on whole wheat bread with a garlic white bean spread; in case you are extra hungry, a side of gourmet trail mix made from an assortment of nuts and dried fruit; and to drink, a pineapple-orange-banana smoothie with extra protein powder, and just a few extra leaves of spinach!” 

I can’t help but be uplifted by his enthusiasm, and hold out my arms for a hug. “I must be the most spoiled new mother in the world.” 

Raj embraces me lightly over the table. “As you should be. You know in some Asian cultures, a new mother spends a whole month resting while her mother-in-law takes care of her and the baby.” 

“Oh yeah?” I look at Jake. “Think your mother would spend a month taking care of me?” 

“Honestly, I bet she would. The problem would be getting her to ease up and let you start taking care of things after the month was up.” 

“Hmm...probably best not to give her ideas then.” 

“Probably. We’ll have my folks over in few more months, when we’ve had a chance to get settled.” 

“...But…” Raj says, “in the meantime, do you think you guys will be needing any extra help? I know it’s going to be a pretty full house as it is, but Diego’s going to want to take it easy with lifting and stuff for a while, and Michelle says Mike will probably need time to recover, too. If you need a couple extra pairs of hands and someone to do the cooking, I have some downtime, and I know Lila would be happy to come along.” 

I look questioningly at Jake, who shrugs. “I don’t have anything against that. It’s a big enough house. And if Varyyn and I are gonna be the only ones at full strength for the time being, I wouldn’t say no to a couple extra pairs of hands.”

“And probably better those hands be Raj and Lila than anyone’s parents,” Diego adds. “I bet Varyyn would prefer not having to wear his disguise twenty-four-seven.” 

“Yeah. And,” Jake adds with a sigh, shifting River to rest against his shoulder, “it’s probably preferable not to involve anyone who ain’t already involved in the bigger picture. ...Like you said before, Princess, this ain’t over.” 

“But for now, we’re all safe and sound, and Allie has a lunch to eat.” Diego smiles encouragingly as he pushes the tinfoil-wrapped sandwich toward me. “Go on. Dig in.” 

Jake

I gotta admit, it does my heart good to see my wife savoring the meal Raj brought her and enjoying our friends’ company. She seems almost back to her old self as she talks and tells jokes and teases with them. Although, as I put River in her arms, I can’t help but be reminded that she’ll never be exactly like her old self again. Not now that she’s a mama. Not like I’m ever gonna be exactly like my old self again either. I’m a daddy now. That’s gonna change me forever. The thought scares me, like it has a lot over the past nine months. But just a look at that precious little face is enough to reassure me that I am never gonna regret it. 

Diego and Raj eventually leave us on our own again. After nursing and burping, River sleeps just long enough that we can fill out her birth certificate, nestled side-by-side on the bed. From there, it’s not more than an hour or two before they’re wheeling Alodia toward the hospital exit with River in her arms again while I walk at her shoulder, a baby carrier in the crook of my elbow and my arms laden with flowers and mini mylar balloons. Any staff we happen to pass on the way out smile and wave or give us their congratulations. I have a feeling that in a hospital, any chance to see a patient off happy and healthy is a cause for celebration, and that probably goes double for a new mama leaving with a baby. 

Grace is waiting in a car for us at the curb outside the hospital. One of Reggie’s old carseats is in the backseat. Grace settles the baby in the carseat while I help Alodia into the seat beside her. 

“There’s a surprise for you guys when we get to our place,” Grace informs us as I circle around the car to get in on the other side of River. 

“Nothing too strenuous, I hope,” Alodia quips. “I am not up for a party yet.” 

Grace chuckles as she starts up the car. “Oh, believe me, I realize that. No, everyone is pretty sure parties are off the table for you for the time being. ...But you do know that everyone is going to want to see you before you leave, right? You gave us a scare, and no one wants you to go before we all know you’re okay. ...Plus, everyone wants to see River.” 

“I am not opposed to visitors,” Alodia assures her. “Just...only a few at a time.” 

“Absolutely. We won’t let you get overwhelmed.” 

“River, either,” Alodia adds, stroking our sleeping daughter’s downy hair. “Poor thing is probably overwhelmed as it is, suddenly coming into all this noise and color and light.” 

“Birth is the craziest thing that ever happens to us, and none of us remember it,” I remark, letting the blade of my forefinger run gently back and forth across the soft back of River’s tiny hand. Her little fingers twitch just slightly, and the base of her pacifier rocks back and forth across her lips, but she doesn’t wake up. I don’t expect the quiet will last. 

River does sleep throughout the half hour or so it takes to drive to Aleister and Grace’s luxury Northbridge apartment. As we pull up to the curb, I realize what our surprise is. 

“Mike!” 

I must have been a little louder than I thought, because River wakes up with a cry that can only be described as irritated, but it doesn’t fully register until I have already launched myself out of the car towards Mike. He’s balancing on a walker, so I at least have the good sense not to jostle him, but I can’t hold myself back from grasping him firmly by the shoulders. He grins, carefully removing his hands from the walker one at a time to grasp me back. 

“Good to see ya, Grandpa.” 

“Shit, you too! We weren’t expecting you for another couple days! How are you feeling?” 

“Well, as you can tell,” he says, nodding at the walker, “I’m not quite ready to run a marathon yet. But my new legs are healing up nice. ...Good to see you, Goldilocks.” 

His gaze shifts over my shoulder, and I turn to look back at my wife supporting herself on Aleister’s arm while Grace bounces River in her arms. Alodia smirks at me, her eyes twinkling mischievously. 

“I feel like I should make a joke about you abandoning your wife and child in the car to go hang out with your buddy,” she drawls. 

I grin sheepishly as Mike carefully returns his grip to the walker. “Sorry about that. Let me make it up to you.” 

I lunge and sweep her up bridal style, and I have the pleasure of feeling her arms twine around my neck. 

“Mmm, much better. However, unlike your daughter, I am actually capable of walking.” 

“But you don’t have to. Not right now, anyway.” But I do return her to her feet after capturing her mouth in a kiss. I don’t entirely take my hands off her yet, though. After her ordeal, I don’t think she’s really that much steadier than Mike right now. Her grip as she slips her arm through mine confirms my concerns. 

I’m standing between my wife and my best friend, and neither of them are fully able to stand under their own power. I’m starting to feel that much more grateful to Raj for volunteering to help us out for a while. 

I think Mike notices Alodia’s weakness, too, because his forehead creases just a little. “You all right, Goldilocks? From what I hear, you gave everyone a real scare.” 

“It was pretty scary on my end, too. But I’m fine now. How about you?” 

Mike shrugs. “Ahh, you know. A few weeks of rehab, I’ll be a six-million dollar man again. In the meantime,” he adds wryly, stroking the frame of his walker, “it’ll be hard to call Jake ‘Grandpa’ when I’m dottering around on this thing.” 

“You just called me ‘Grandpa’ two minutes ago.” 

“And I cannot tell you how hard I internally cringed. Seriously, if you could have seen my internal expression, you’d have thought I was sucking lemons.” 

I am morally obligated to reach out and swat him for that, but before I can, Alodia abruptly steps forward to wrap her arms around his shoulders. It’s an awkward embrace, encumbered by the walker and both of them still being weak, but it’s a sincere one, and Mike leans into it gratefully. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Alodia murmurs. 

“You too,” Mike says softly, reaching up to pat her shoulder with one hand. “But can we go inside? I wanna properly meet that baby you’ve been carrying around for the past nine months!” 

***

The Catalysts come by in shifts throughout the afternoon and evening, apparently having planned it all out beforehand. No one stays more than an hour at a time, which proves to be a good thing, since Alodia is clearly worn out by about eight in the evening. We’re set up in the guest room of the Rourke apartment, with River in a bassinet beside us, and Mike on the foldaway bed in the living room. 

Alodia nurses River and rocks her to sleep before lying down herself. At first, I curl up beside Alodia in bed. She’s asleep within minutes, but I’m not as quick. And after an hour, it’s pretty clear that I’m not on my way to dreamland any time soon. I don’t want to leave Alodia or River. I never want to leave Alodia’s side again. But I’m restless. Anxious. And eventually, the desire not to disturb what precious little sleep my wife might have before our daughter wakes her up again wins out over my irrational need to pace back and forth between them. I check the windows, making sure they’re locked, then I slip out of the room as quietly as I can, heading back out into the living room. 

I find Mike, Aleister, and Grace all seated in the living room. On the coffee table are four short, round glasses and a bottle of golden red liquid that I’m guessing is some kind of whiskey. 

“We were starting to wonder if you had also fallen asleep,” Aleister says. He gestures to the glasses. “We thought you might like to wet your baby’s head.” 

“Kind of a weird expression,” I remark. Nonetheless, I pick up the bottle and take a seat in an armchair to read the label. “Ooh, Irish Mist. Fancy.” 

“It is not every day that one becomes a father. The night Reginald was born, Diego, Varyyn, and I toasted his birth with Irish Mist.” 

I crack open the bottle, and lean forward to fill each of the four glasses about halfway. I set down the bottle and raise my glass, the others following suit. 

“To River Skye McKenzie, my beautiful angel. And to her mother, my better half, who is truly the best and bravest of us.” 

“Here, here!” Grace says. We clink glasses, and I take a long, deep drink, savoring the sweet notes of honey and spices riding atop the alcoholic burn of whiskey. I return my glass to the table empty and lean back in my chair. 

“When my sister and I both were born, my grandpa had my dad and the men of the neighborhood over to smoke cigars on the porch.” I chuckle a little. “Rebecca remembers helping our grandma in the kitchen, and seeing all the men outside smoking. She says what she remembers most about the day I was born was our dad coming in from outside to give her a hug, but she pushed him away and said, ‘No, Daddy! You stink!’” 

My story prompts the expected laughter. 

“I am afraid Irish Mist will have to do tonight,” Aleister says. “I did not think to buy cigars. Nor would I know enough to ensure I was purchasing a quality product. As I understand it, Cuban cigars are the best, but those are illegal.” 

Mike shudders. “Honestly, I think the smell of a Cuban would be enough to give me flashbacks. Lundgren used to smoke contraband Cubans.” 

“Same here,” I agree. “I mean...there was that one time…” 

“...That one time what?” 

I chuckle a little, rubbing the back of my head. “Okay, no one currently in this room was there when Zahra blew up MASADA…” 

“What’s that got to do with Cuban cigars?” 

I sigh, but in spite of myself, in spite of how literally everyone else in the room with me was in some kind of bad situation at the time, I feel a smile playing around my mouth at the memory. 

“Okay, so it’s me, Alodia, Sean, Quinn, Estela, Craig, and Zahra trying to find another way out of the complex after the gondola gets severed, and when we go through a control room, Zahra gets the idea to blow the whole thing up. We figure it’s worth the couple extra minutes, so we let her do it. And while she’s rigging the system, I find one of Lundgren’s Cubans somewhere on the floor. ...And I light it up. But only to spite the bastard.” 

“But did you enjoy it?” Mike asks. 

“Hell, yeah! The hype ain’t a lie, buddy. Not saying I’d do it again unless it were one of his personal stash, but that was a real good smoke. ...Still...it wouldn’t be right to celebrate River with Cuban cigars. Lundgren and Rourke did enough to taint her birth.” 

“Nothing has been tainted,” Grace says firmly. “She and Alodia both came through it well and healthy.”

“I ain’t losing sight of what’s important,” I assure her. “But I can’t let my guard down, either.  ...We all know this ain’t over.” 

Grace sighs. “...No, you’re right. It isn’t over. ...Which means...I should probably tell you what I learned in Ireland.”

Diego

I knew that the Catalysts wouldn’t have sat on their hands while any of their own were in danger, but I am surprised to learn just how busy they were during the time that Allie and I were in Arachnid’s claws. I’m even more surprised--and frankly unsettled--by some of the things they learned. Yvonne might be alive. Lundgren flew the same plane that killed Allie’s parents, even though the twisted wreckage of that plane is the property of the NTSB. The whole mess with Allie’s mom, that weird AI message from a program made by Allie’s mom. It all leaves us with a lot more questions than answers. 

I told the police everything I felt like I could safely tell them. I went so far as to tell them that I think Everett Rourke might be alive because that’s who our kidnappers claimed they were taking us to. I don’t know if they believed me. I don’t know if the future of the Vaanti is safe. A part of me hopes that they lose interest in the case since everyone who was abducted has been recovered safely. But I also know that none of us are really safe until Rourke is either back behind bars or dead. 

Aleister and Estela make all the travel arrangements for those of us going back to California, including my folks and Allie’s. Castor carries me, Allie, Jake, Varyyn, Mike, Raj, Lila, Rebecca, and River. For once, Jake and Mike aren’t going to be flying. Pollux is taking our families. A third plane, smaller but no less luxurious, takes Jake’s parents back to Louisiana. They’re reluctant to leave him. They don’t want to be apart from their son, or their daughter, or their granddaughter. He assures them they can come visit soon, but that their daughter-in-law needs some time to recover first. 

At the airport, Allie’s aunt and uncle hesitate to part from her on the tarmac. Allie stands with River in her arms, patiently enduring as Molly smoothes her hair and kisses her forehead, asking if she’s sure Allie doesn’t want her and Rob to wait at the airport in California to drive her home. When Allie insists she’s sure; that Molly and Rob should go ahead and get home so they can rest. Rob says they’ll make sure there are cars waiting for us to take us all back to the house in Laguna. 

My parents board the plane before I arrive at the airport. On board the plane, I nestle up with Varyyn on one of the double-width leather seats. I wind my arms around him and bury my face in his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He kisses the top of my head. 

“Are you alright, my love?” he murmurs. 

“...I’ll be fine,” I assure him. “I’m just...disappointed. I knew my parents weren’t ready to meet you. But I had hoped...I don’t know. I had hoped it wouldn’t be like this. Even if I knew it probably would be.” 

Varyyn sighs, bringing a hand up to stroke my cheek. “They may yet come around. Or they may not. In the end, it is up to them. All I can promise is that I will love you regardless of their decision.” 

“...I love you, too.” 

“You guys all set?” Raj’s voice makes me look up. The others are boarding behind us and finding their seats. Jake helps Allie settle in and get her seatbelt on, River still cradled in her arms. 

“Are you sure a plane is really the best way to travel with a newborn?” Lila asks. 

“When the choices are between a rental car, a train, or a private plane for a cross-country trip, a private plane is hands down the best option,” Rebecca declares. “I mean, if we were on a commercial plane, I’d think twice, since those things are basically flying petri dishes. But this plane has been deep-cleaned, unlike the train. It’s more comfortable than a car, and faster than both the car or the train.” 

“Yeah, but what about her little ears? All the pressure?” 

“The doctor says that if I nurse her during take-off and landing, that should keep her comfortable. Besides...I just want to be home.” 

Home. The word washes through me in a way that comforts me even as it makes me want to cry. Images flash through my mind of the house I share with my husband, my best friend, her husband, and his best friend--and now, my little niece and goddaughter. Watching movies in the living room with Allie. Sharing dinner around the table or out on the balcony. Cuddling with Varyyn in the hot tub in the evening, letting the warm, swirling water sap the energy from my body, and then sliding into bed beside him and drifting off to sleep in his arms. At home, I don’t have to hide. I don’t have to walk on eggshells or worry about losing anyone’s love. At home, I’m safe and free. I meet my best friend’s eyes, offering her a tired smile. 

“I’m with you, Allie. Let’s get home.” 

Raj

Nothing but the best for my friends, that’s my motto. I came to the house in Laguna Beach to make sure that my friends would have the best care while they needed it, and I waste no time in getting down to business. Alodia, Diego, and Mike need space to convalesce. But with a new baby in a huge house like this, there is a lot to be done. Jake and Varyyn can’t be expected to do everything, and that’s where I and Lila come in. 

River is constantly monitored. Whenever she cries, someone is ready to come running to change her diaper, or to bring her to Alodia for feeding. I prepare meals ahead of time that can be easily heated and served, so no one goes hungry. Lila helps me cook and keep the house clean. Alodia’s aunt and uncle attempt to send cleaning and catering services to her at one point, but they end up being politely refused. Lila and I have everything under control, and none of us want strangers poking around here. 

Alodia is occasionally moody, snapping at everyone to stop fussing over her, and she can’t wait to be free of this gilded cage and go back out into the world. This is usually followed by tearful apologies, with all of us assuring her that we don’t take it personally. She just had a baby, she’s allowed to be moody. Besides, the moment someone places River in her arms, it seems like everything is right in her world, and everything is right in our world, too. 

...Except it’s not. Not entirely. 

River is happy and healthy. Alodia is getting her strength back. Diego gets rid of the sling, and Mike starts to get around without the walker again. But underneath the surface, there is still trauma. There’s still fear. 

“They’re having nightmares,” I tell Lila one morning as we’re preparing breakfast. She pauses for a moment with a knife poised above an orange before swiftly slicing it in half. 

“Is that so surprising?” she asks. She doesn’t look at me as she speaks, but concentrates on making sure the thick, white heart of the orange half in her hand is positioned properly on the cone of the juicer before she presses down and begins to twist. Bright yellow juice splashes down into the container below. 

“Well, no. But it is sad. Jake and Alodia especially should be concentrating on enjoying their new baby, not having nightmares and worrying about whether Rourke’s coming back for them.” 

Lila pulls the now-deflated orange rind off the cone of the juicer and tosses it on the countertop. Ribbons of tattered orange flesh cling to the inside of the rind. She picks up the other half. 

“...Do you ever have nightmares from Mr. Rourke?” she asks softly. 

“Of course,” I reply. “Not as much as before, but I think we all have them sometimes. After what we all went through, I think I’d be more surprised if any of us didn’t.” 

The twisting of the orange on the juicer slows just slightly. The toaster pops behind me, and I pluck four pieces of perfectly browned bread from the slots to toss onto a plate. 

“...I have nightmares, too.” 

The butter has been softening on the counter, and my knife slides easily through it. The heat from the toast softens it further, and it spreads cleanly. 

“...You want to talk about it?” 

Lila shakes her head, picking up her knife and another orange. “No. Not now. They don’t really matter anyway. They’re about things that happened in the past. I’m less scared of them than I am of what happens in the future.” 

“Do you mean Rourke’s next move?” 

“Of course that scares me. ...But more than that, I’m scared of him trying to use me against all of you again.” 

“We won’t let that happen, Lila. You’re safe with us.” 

“...But are you safe with me?” 

I pause a moment before putting down my knife. I turn to Lila, put one hand on each of her shoulders, and turn her toward me. 

“Lila...look at me. ...Has Rourke approached you at all since you’ve been with us again?” 

Her eyes widen in what looks like genuine surprise. “What? No, I...that isn’t what I meant!” 

I relax just a little. “...Okay.” I slowly take my hands away from her shoulders. “...You’d tell me if he had, wouldn’t you?” 

She nods. “Of course.” 

“Good. ...Because if he approaches you again, we can help you. We can help keep you out from under his thumb. ...We’re not gonna let him just have you back.” 

A weak smile lifts the corners of her mouth. “I believe you.” She hastily turns back to the oranges in front of her. “You should...um...finish buttering before the toast gets cold.” 

Overhead, the sharp, piercing cry of an infant rings through the air. I smile. Another morning blending into another day. It’s not perfect. We’ve got reason to worry. But for now, all is well. 

Diego

I keep my head down as I move through the halls of my high school, clutching the straps of my worn-out backpack. It’s the same shabby gray one I’ve been carrying since freshman year. I’m a junior now, and the corners near the bottom are starting to fray where the sharp corners of paper-bag covered textbooks have dug into them. 

My stomach growls. I skipped lunch again today. My parents were gone to work early again, and I didn’t leave myself enough time to make myself anything this morning. I barely had time to scarf down a banana for breakfast. I didn’t have enough cash for a cafeteria lunch, either, and besides, I preferred spending my lunch period playing on the computer in the library to sitting by myself at the end of a table filled with noisy strangers anyway. 

If I can scrape together enough change from the bottom of my pencil case, I might have enough to get a bag of chips from the vending machine before I have to go to my after school job. But for now, my hunger isn’t all that sharp, and I am heading towards English Lit, the only class I currently look forward to. 

The class is taught by Mr. Hunter. He also teaches the film-making class I want to sign up for next semester. He’s in his early fifties, and not handsome. He is tall and lanky, with gray-green eyes and a dark helmet of slicked back hair that sits atop a rectangular face. He has one of those mustaches that seemed to be popular in the 1970’s that always make a man look a little sketchy. He wears paisley shirts and slacks, and his voice reminds me of Bert from Sesame Street.

Mr. Hunter is the best teacher I’ve ever had at this school. When we studied Romeo and Juliet, he started off by giving us all a printed-off list of Shakespearean insults. When one girl tried to mumble her way through a line-reading, he shouted, “Put some feeling into it, you saucy wench!” 

Mr. Hunter is also gay, and he does not attempt to hide this. When my parents ask about my teachers and which ones I like best, I leave this fact out. If they knew, they would make me switch to another class. Mr. Hunter has a picture of himself with his boyfriend on his desk. I’ve seen it when I’ve gone up to hand in assignments. His partner is bald and ruddy-skinned. He’s not handsome, either, but he has an open, friendly smile. Sometimes, I imagine them kissing. I worry that I have a crush on Mr. Hunter. 

On the post of every classroom door is a laminated pink triangle, with a message proclaiming that this is a safe space for LGBTQ students. These triangles are mandated by the school district. Not every teacher honors them. One teacher actually tore hers down and refused to put it back up. She was fired. Last year, two girls were voted “Cutest Couple” in their senior class. I look at the triangles, prominently displayed as I walk into each classroom, and I don’t feel particularly safe. I feel safe in Mr. Hunter’s classroom. 

Inside Mr. Hunter’s classroom, two boys from the football team act out a love poem with one of them in a curly blond wig and the bottom of his shirt tucked into his collar to create a crop top. They end with a flourish, with the boy in the wig jumping into the other boy’s arms and goosing him. Everyone applauds their performance, including Mr. Hunter. 

Outside Mr. Hunter’s classroom, guys of all stripes growl “faggot” in my direction, and even the girls who are nice to me seem pitying more than anything. There’s a Pride club that meets after school two days a week, but I don’t dare join. I’m slowly realizing I can’t deny the truth anymore, but that doesn’t mean I can just announce it to the world. 

I have just enough change to buy a bag of chips after school. I put it in my backpack as I make my way toward the library where I work for a few hours each day. I see Sam Dzugan eyeing me as I pass through the main doors to the school, and feel dread so familiar that it’s almost dull. Of all the bullies at this school, Sam is the worst. He also knows where I work. If he’s bored and hungry for a power fix tonight, I’m in for a rough walk home. 

But he doesn’t follow me to work. At the library, I set to work filing back the books from the return cart. As I do, my mind wanders to the same place it always does: Alodia. 

Alodia. My ideal friend. I conjure up an image of her beside me. She would be pretty, like all the most popular girls at school. I summon a small, pale figure with blonde hair, big blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. I talk with her in my head as I wander the aisles of the library with the return cart. I can picture her cheeky smile as clearly as if she were really beside me. I have spent many years getting the details of her perfect. Early incarnations of her were dark-haired. Green-eyed. Taller. I drew pictures of her. I wrote down her description in a private notebook that I kept under my mattress. But she never felt as real as when I wrote her with golden blonde hair and sapphire eyes. 

She laughs at all my jokes as I work the rest of my shift. I forgot to eat the chips I bought, and I’m hungry enough now to start feeling dizzy. ...Alodia would invite me to dinner at her house. A huge, fancy house with a pool, where a chef would have prepared a gourmet meal. 

“Don’t worry about Sam,” she would say. “If he gives you any trouble, I’ll fight him off.” ...Because Alodia would be fierce. A fighter. Alodia was a hero. A hero who loved me unconditionally. 

Alodia was never meant to be my lover. I wasn’t looking for a lover when I first dreamed Alodia into existence, which is probably why I always imagined her as a girl. I could scarcely imagine having a lover before I had a friend. That was what Alodia was to me. A friend. A friend who would always love me. A friend who I could tell my secrets to without judgment. A friend to fight for me and protect me, who saw value in me, and needed me back. 

But my friend is a fantasy. And when I leave work and Sam corners me in the encroaching darkness, Alodia vanishes…

...I wake up with a gasp, bolting upright in the darkness of my room. Beside me, Varyyn grunts in his sleep and rolls over, the moonlight reflecting off his blue skin. I stare at his sleeping form for a moment, trying to take stock of myself. I’m shaking. My pajamas are damp with sweat. I feel cold. I feel sick and empty with fear. I don’t exactly remember what I was dreaming about, but one thought keeps echoing in my mind: Allie. I have to find Allie. 

I slip out of bed as gently as I can while I’m still trembling. I don’t want to wake Varyyn. As I slip into the hall, motion-sensitive lights plugged into the sockets near the floor illuminate my path. My dream is still hazy, but bits and pieces trickle back as I shuffle down the hall with my hand on the wall. I was alone. Allie didn’t exist. It was a timeline that I have all but forgotten, and it felt entirely too real. 

I need to find her. Or at least evidence that she still exists. The door to the nursery is slightly ajar, enough that I can see the soft glow from the lamp on the bedside table. I peek through the crack in the door and relief floods through me. Allie, bundled up in her robe and slippers, sits in the rocking chair with River in her arms, gently rocking back and forth. I exhale slowly. I should go back to bed, but I am not ready to let her out of my sight yet. I start to push open the door. She gasps a little, looking up sharply. 

“Oh, Diego!” She smiles at me, settling back into her chair. “You startled me.” 

“Sorry,” I whisper back. “...Did I wake up River?” 

“No. I just fed her, so she’ll probably be out for an hour or two.” She looks up at me as I come to settle into the armchair across from her. “...What are you doing up?” 

“...Bad dream,” I admit. “...About...about you. I had to come check on you or I was never going to get back to sleep.” 

I half-expect her to joke about me being a creeper watching her while she sleeps, but instead she sighs. “...I kinda know the feeling.” 

“Yeah. I bet you do.” 

“You wanna stay up with me for awhile?” 

“Yeah. But I feel like I should be telling you to get some sleep while you can.” 

“I probably should be sleeping,” she admits. “...But I don’t really want to let her go.” 

There’s not really much I feel like I need to say to that. I understand. I don’t think there’s anyone in this house who doesn’t empathize with that feeling in one way or another. Especially now. 

“...Diego…?” 

“Yeah, Allie?” 

For a long moment, she doesn’t say anything, though her mouth opens and closes a couple times. Then, she swallows and takes a deep breath. 

“...I love you. I love you, and I love Jake, and Raj, and all the Catalysts…” 

“We love you, too, Allie.” 

“...When you imagined me. In that other timeline. When I didn’t come to be until the Island...did you ever imagine my future?” 

I can’t help flinching. Her words feel like a cold pinprick at the top of my spine. “...Allie...I...I don’t really remember that timeline…” 

“I know. I know. But...it happened. It existed. I was once born to be what you needed. What all the Catalysts needed. ...But now...now I have River. Someone new who needs me. She needs me more than any of my Catalysts.” 

“I...I think that’s true,” I say slowly. “...We all love you, and we want you with us. But River is your child. She’s helpless and new. She needs your love and your care and your guidance to survive.” 

“...I’m scared, Diego. I’m scared by how much I love her. I’m scared by how much she needs me.” 

My earlier fear is being replaced with concern that is entirely for my friend.  “...Allie...are you okay? Is this some kind of postpartum depression?” 

“I don’t know what this is, Diego. I know that I love River more than I ever thought I could love anyone alive. I would have torn myself apart for my Catalysts without hesitation. I gave up my existence to give my Catalysts the world. ...But I can’t consider that anymore. Because River needs her mother.” 

“Oh, Allie. That’s not a bad thing. None of us want you to tear yourself apart.” 

“I know. ...But I am afraid of what happens if the world asks for it. ...If I end up at the Threshold again, or a new Raan’losti…” She looks up at me. “...Diego...I think I have to face what’s in the pool shed.” 

I feel my blood run cold. I know what’s in the pool shed. The collection of objects that were left for us in the Crystal dimension when we went to rescue Tahira. Including…

“...Are you sure?” 

She nods. “...It was left for me to find for a reason. I have to touch the Andromeda idol again.” 

[blueeyedrichie]

okay as a ~*~*distraction*~*~ what part time job do you think each loser would work in the 00’s au? (or any timeline you want)

oop piggybacking off my last ask to add that I personally love Richie working at a movie theater/video rental/store like Newbury Comics (idk if that’s a national chain or not)

okay i’m not joking when i say that i read the first ask and was like “RICHIE VIDEO RENTAL STORE” and then saw your second ask and i fully screamed bc of course we would have the same brain once again :’) soooooo

richie: i’m fully thinking that like he would work at some local place when they are still living in derry, and when they move away for college he would work at blockbuster and think it’s literally the coolest thing ever. like he’s FINALLY gotten to the highest tier of video rental stores. and the other losers are like “dude you do realize that like rental stores are a dying business right” but richie works there til the bitter end, a big part of that being that all the kids that come in think his voices are super funny, like whatever movie they rent richie will talk to them in the voice of the main character or something and it’s just really fun for him. also free candy, helloooo? and the losers are all v supportive and come rent movies from him specifically. and he also tries to get eddie to go into the 18+ room, and eddie’s like “dude we literally are 20 years old, it’s not like we have to sneak in” but richie just thinks it’s funny and so sometimes they’ll run in there together only to run back out giggling like little kids because it’s fun and they can (pls ignore that my timeline here is probably way off from the actual 00′s au i’m just ~doin what i want~) and i think toward the end of working here is when he’d really start to focus more on like his rtvf degree bc i love that for him and he’d get his first dj job while he’s still in school

eddie: mechanic shop!!!!!! let that boy enjoy his love of cars!!!!!! again, he’d work at a local place until they move and tbh probably have a hard time finding a solid job because he just has the little bit of experience from derry. but with the support of his friends and his determination he finally lands a job at a pretty reputable mechanic shop in new york (i’m just going with new york but i mean they could be anywhere) and he quickly becomes one of their top mechanics. he also is taking automotive technology classes and i imagine him getting an internship or something and getting to work on really fancy cars and stuff, though he truly prefers working on like old cars and helping his friends out. he fully teaches richie how to change the oil in his truck at some point bc he gets sick of richie always taking it in for something so simple and paying for it with his ~blockbuster savings~ and he also shows everyone how to change their tires :’)

stanley: i think stan would volunteer at like zoos and animal adoption places. at first he’s mainly just like a janitor and cleans up the walking paths and runs concessions and stuff, which he’s honestly okay with because he gets to spend a lot of time just bird watching and admiring the animals and practicing his bird calls. and i think once they all move, he’d get a position at a big zoo as like a guide and he would teach lessons on how to tell different birds apart and how to do bird calls. i think even when he does get the job, he’d probably still volunteer at animal shelters on the side and he’d be the person in the room with the people who will potentially be adopting to see how the animals respond and he gets to decide if they get to adopt or not

mike: i really love the idea of mike working in antique shops. i can see him falling in love with some little shop in derry that is probably on its last legs and asking for a job, and they probably tell him they don’t need the help but he is persistent and basically ends up just working there and while they can’t afford to pay much, they let him take random things he finds home. of course, along with all the trinkets there would be tons of old literature there and he’d spend a lot of his time reading. in new york, he’d probably be in search of similar shops that he can fix up and find more cool items, and he always gifts each of the losers cool things he finds that makes him think of them. i can also definitely see him working in the university library sometimes, but i think he’d love finding old photos and books and knick knacks and learning about where they all came from

beverly: honestly i think bev would work at a movie theatre, but spend almost all of her time flipping through magazines and drawing up sketches of clothing and listening to music. she starts at concessions and moves up to box office, and she definitely sneaks the other losers in to watch movies for free. she and richie argue about whose job is better and who has the better candy (it’s literally all the same, eddie will tell them) and she also gets to bring home movie posters and distributes them amongst the losers. she definitely gets caught letting them all in for free movies and has to stay late to mop the theatre floors, but little does her boss know that the losers will continue to sneak in anyway and help her clean up. i think she’d keep working there until she gets an internship with a designer. all the losers keep the movie posters that she’d given them over the years

bill: bill works in used bookstores and libraries, and also prefers to accept his pay in the form of taking as many books home as he can. he’s usually there on his own, and he always brings notebooks (this dude can’t afford a laptop yet okay) with him so that he can write his own stories when he isn’t reading. i also can fully see one of the gifts that mike gives is a typewriter to bill that he finds in one of the antique shops :’)) the shops in derry aren’t very busy, so he gets to spend most of his time there reading not only novels, but also books on being a writer and this is where he learns a lot about becoming an author. in ny, i can definitely see him being a library aide and i just have a very vivid image of bill on one of those slidy ladder things looking through the books on the top shelf and being mesmerized by just how much there is to read. even when he isn’t actually working, he’s in a corner of the library working on his original works and just enjoying the atmosphere

ben: ben works at a comic shop, but most of his time is spent sketching buildings and rearranging the store shelves so that it’s neater and makes more sense in the aspect of ~architecture~ and his boss is like in true shock every time he comes into the store in the morning and finds not a single comic out of place like he always did with the people that worked there previously. he draws inspo for big, fancy buildings from things he sees in the comics and likes to redraw them to a realistic scale and imagine what they would look like in real life. the losers of course love to visit him here as well, and they help him choose his best sketches to create a portfolio before they go off to college where he presents it to his professor who would honestly be pretty impressed by it all (and i’m thinking would prob be like “is this the building from ~insert comic here~ and ben would be like YES) and that’s how he gets an internship in architecture

AHHHHH this got so fucking long omg thank you for sending <33333 

[talesofphantombandits]

Tech Whiz ~ Matt Devlin - Part 1.

Hey guys, so I recently watched all the episodes of Law and Order: UK that Matt was in and came up with this idea for a story.  Hope you all enjoy and let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts.  Edits will be made later on.

Pairing: Matt Devlin X OC. Summary: Saylor Clarke gets a new job working on the tech aspects of solving the crimes that Ronnie and Matt investigate. She swears to herself that she will not get into any office romances but the more time she spends with Matt the harder it gets not to fall for him. Someone on the sidelines however are always watching their every interacting, when things go to the next level Saylors mystery admirer will make themselves known in the worst way possible. 

Tagging those who showed interest in my post about this story, if you don’t want to be tagged in further parts let me know and i’ll untag it immediately.  Thank you for showing support though <3 @dreamingundone​ , @fyeahmeninroyalnavy​ , @alittlepronetopanic​

Saylor Clarke visuals. 

As it is for anyone, the first day of walking into a new workplace was a nerve wracking experience. It was only made more daunting as Saylor took in all the bodies dressed in various formal suits and ties, pencil skirts and blazers. 

Of course, Saylor was also dressed presentably, but the big difference between her and her new colleagues was the dip dyed shoulder length emerald hair she sported, the numerous piercings in her ears - which were mainly covered by her hair - and a small green ring through her nostril. 

She was grateful her sleeve tattoo in progress was covered under her blazer or she would have felt even more uneasy than she already did. Her only body art on show was five thin lines encircling four of her fingers. They were dainty and usually most people didn’t even notice them unless they were in close proximity to her. Even so, she loosely clasped her hands into fists in case anyone decided to peer too closely. 

Still, alternative styles evidently were not a popular sight in the The Crown office, because as Saylor walked down the aisles of cubicles, eyes zoned in on her. She tried to remind herself that this was not the first time she’d faced stares over her appearance and that it no way detracted from her professionalism or ability to do her job. That’s all that mattered, and she would remind them all of that in due course. 

Arriving at a standard looking office that overlooked the city, she met DI Natalie Chandler who went over all the necessary debriefing and documentation with her. The woman’s kind nature lifted some of the nerves rattling through her and she hoped she would get to work with Ms Chandler in the future.

Natalie then led her over to the middle of the bustling office to a set of desks where two men had their backs to her. 

“Guys! This is our new tech master, Saylor Clarke.” 

Both of them swung around in their chairs, the older gentleman who sat to the right and she shared a warm smile with him, but what caught Saylor’s was the young man on the left. “I’d like you to meet DS Ronnie Brooks and DS Matthew Devlin.” She smiled, meeting both their gazes in greeting. 

“She’ll be taking over from Angela from today.” Before Natalie walked away she gave both of them a pointed stare. “Be nice! Look after her.” 

“We’re always nice!” Matt called after her playfully then turned on Saylor and she forgot her own name for a breath. “Hey, Mathew Devlin but you can call me Matt.” He held out his hand for her to shake.  Worried her hand would be sweaty due to the first day nerves and her body’s response to meeting someone as striking as Matt before, Saylor hesitated, but suddenly she realised how rude that would look and slipped her hand into his. It enveloped hers and she hoped he didn’t hear the way her breathing jittered at the contact and noticed the electricity that skated up her skin leaving goosebumps in its wake, and she truly hoped he didn’t feel the slight moist covering on her hand. If he clocked onto anything at all, he never let it show as he gave her a friendly grin and returned to his desk. 

With ocean eyes that shamed the carribean shores, sunkissed skin that enhanced every muscular valley in his bare forearms and bone structure that rivaled the godly marbled statues she’d seen at the A&E, it was fair to say Matt might have been the most mesmerizing man she’d ever laid her eyes upon. 

One word came to her mind. Shit.

How was she going to stop herself from crushing on Mr Devlin?

“Ronnie Brooks,” The older man stated, waving a hand. “don’t worry you’ll settle in right away. If you need anything though don’t be afraid to ask us. Me and Matty will be happy to help.” They both offered her bright and reassuring smiles and she felt instantly welcome in their company.  

“Thank you, guys. It’s nice to meet you both. I guess I better go log into my computer, and get it all set up.” Ronnie pointed out her desk which was a little way across the room from theirs, she thanked him and made her way over, cursing herself on the way for being so awkward.

Her first day seemed to flash by, and before she knew it, it was dark outside and people started leaving the office in drips and drabs. Nothing too exciting had happened through the duration of the day. It wasn’t as though she had expected to be thrown straight into the middle of the chaos on day one, but admittedly, lack of productivity had her itching in her seat. 

However, her day was pleasant nonetheless; she had managed to set up her computer almost exactly the way she liked it, she’d gone and spoke to some of her other new colleagues around the office to get to know who she would be working with and had been pleasantly surprised at the warmth she was met with. She shouldn’t have assumed they would judge her based on her looks, she needed to squash that insecurity. 

But mostly, she had chatted with Matt and Ronnie. Apparently, not much was happening in the way of cases, so they had time to tell her about some of their most interesting cases and how tech had helped them catch their criminal in the end. She looked forward to being able to be a part of that team and process in the future. 

Both men were incredibly charming and sweet. She counted herself lucky that she’d been put in an office with such lovely company. Ronnie was instantly like a father figure to her, he seemed gentle and caring and she was in no doubt that he’d be the first to her aid if she needed it. Matt on the other hand spoke to her in a more flirtatious manner, which of course she could never honestly say she minded. It was actually an honour to have such a beautiful man trade playful banter with her, but she had to remind herself that this was her work place now and no matter how she may want to, nothing past friendship was to be permitted between the two of them. 

There was only one person she met in that office that first day that made her uncomfortable; Mike had walked up to her desk, and she could tell right off the bat that this man was typically shy. Knowing this feeling all too well she greeted him warmly, but as soon as he started speaking she got an unsettling feeling from the interaction. She couldn’t, however, put her finger on what exactly it was that was making her so uneasy about the man who had only said one word to her. 

After the single interaction though, she didn’t see him for the rest of the day so she brushed it off and buried herself in customising her systems to her personal preference. 

At the end of the day, she was at her desk switching everything off when she felt someone approach her from behind. She sent a silent prayer that whoever it was, it wasn’t Mike. Regardless, of the lack of action she’d seen through the day, she still felt drained from all the information she’d had to retain and had no energy left to try to understand him.

“How are you getting home?” 

Turning, a jolt of excitement spiked through her fatigue when she saw Matt standing a few feet from her wrapping his scarf around his neck. “Not to sound creepy or anything, I just thought It would be decent of me to offer you a lift seen as it’s pitch black outside and you said earlier that you live on the other side of London.” 

She smiled not only at how genuinely adorable this man was with his slight pout, but also at the fact he remembered when she’d idly said where she lived. Then she quickly reminded herself not to overthink his basic capacity to listen to information. She couldn’t let her head run amok. “Thank you Matt, that’s really nice that you thought of me. But I have my bike.” 

“Bike? As in a peddle bike? I mean I could probably fit it in the back of my car. London traffic in the dark isn’t the nicest to people on bikes.” 

“Erm, no, my motorbike.” Matt looked taken aback at this. Saylor simply laughed at his surprised expression.

They both started for the door. “Okay this I have to see!” She looked at him confused but she couldn’t hide the amusement on her face. “Oh no I didn’t mean you riding a motorbike I meant the actual bike.”  

 “Sure! You can come meet Alvin.” 

Matt stopped in his tracks in the middle of the foyer, Saylor stopping a step in front of him, eyebrows raised. “What?”

“You named your bike after a chipmunk?”

She burst out laughing at the remark, envisioning the small rodent in question. “No.” she shook her head. “I named my bike after the Glam Rock star Alvin Stardust, a childhood favourite.” Sniggering to herself as she walked out of the revolving doors. 

Matt was close on her heels as she walked to where her bike was parked on the side of the street. Stopping in front of it, she reached inside of her jacket to grab the key for the little storage box on the back of the bike.

“Matt meet Alvin, Alvin meet Matt.” 

“Wow, such a beautiful bike.” Matt slowly walked around observing every detail of the vehicle. 

“Thanks. I try to keep him in tip top shape.” Matt paused again looking over the bike to Saylor who had finally freed her helmet from the box. 

“You do maintenance on the bike yourself?” 

She looked up to find Matt staring at her in something akin to awe. “Yeah, I won't let anyone else touch him.” 

She got up on the bike and started up the engine. Itroared to life.

Putting on the helmet, she turned to Matt one last time. “If you’re lucky one day I might let you ride him, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She winked at him, closed the visor and as Matt walked back to the pavement, he watched as she safely pulled out and sped off. 

The last look on his face said it all; maybe she wasn’t the only one that was going to struggle toeing the line between friendship and something more. 

...............

The next morning was uneventful, but Saylor didn’t mind too much. It gave her additional time to settle in and socialise some more. Which included Matt.

When she got home the previous night she couldn’t shake the smile from her face. Her interactions with him the previous day had left her feeling like a campfire had ignited in her stomach and set a flock of butterflies into a frenzy above. 

“Hey, a few of us are heading out for something to eat tonight if you would care to join us?” She turned in her chair to find Matt and Ronnie stood behind her with hopeful smiles on their faces. 

“Sure, why not.” She leaned back in her chair and grinned at them both.

“I hope I’m invited too.” 

As if out of nowhere, Mike appeared beside Saylor, that uneasy feeling came back to her. She shifted in her chair then glanced at Matt who seemed to sense her unease. He moved to perch himself on the corner of Saylor’s desk, putting himself between them. She looked up at him and gave him a silent ‘Thank you!’

“Sure. Everyone's invited.” Ronnie chimed in. 

Saylor and Matt both snapped their heads to Ronnie. Obviously, he hadn’t read the room, but it was too late. Mike said he would meet them at the pizza place later and had walked off.  

Unable to pinpoint exactly what it was about Mike that gave her the creeps, she felt a little bad, but every time he was near her, the hair on the back of her neck would stand up and she had the greatest desire to be as far away from him as possible. 

“Jeez, Ronnie, why’d you invite him? Can’t you see that he makes Saylor uncomfortable?” 

Ronnie looked at Saylor, confused. 

“Does he make you uncomfortable? I can go over and uninvite him?” Ronnie started walking to Mike's desk but Saylor reached out an arm and stopped him. 

“No, no. It’s okay. I’m probably just overreacting, he’s probably a really nice person, I have to give him a chance. Besides this is only my second day, he barely said two words to me. Can’t be making enemies straightaway, can I?” She smiled at them both, trying to be as lighthearted as she could. Ronnie said a simple okay as he walked back to his desk.

“Did you bring the bike today?” Matt said still perched on her desk, she swung back round to face her computer. 

“I got a cab today actually, I never ride when it’s raining.” She chuckled to herself. “One of my mum's rules, actually. I understand though. Plus, I’d rather not turn up to work drenched.” 

“So, you’ll be getting a cab home?” 

She just nodded as she typed away on the keypad. If someone would have asked her what she was working on she wouldn’t have been able to answer. It was hard to concentrate when she had such a handsome man distracting her. 

“Or I could give you a lift after the pizza place, I mean I’m the designated driver so....” 

She stopped typing and looked up, catching his eye. “Sure, I guess it saves me some money. Unless you want gas money which I will happily provide.” 

“Don’t worry about it. Just buy me a coke at the pub.” He snapped his finger and pointed at her with a wide grin.

“You got it.” She tilted her head as she looked at him, matching his grin. 

“Great, I guess I’ll meet you back here when it’s time to leave.” Nodding again, she watched as he got up from the desk and walked away with the biggest smile on his lips.

Sighing, she knew she’d spend the rest of the day trying not to overanalyse said smile and tame the butterflies wreaking havoc inside her.

By the end of her second morning she’d already made some amazing friends. She just hoped that it would stay like that, that she wouldn’t ruin this job for herself like she did the last one.

No way would she let that happen again.

Time ticked by ever so slowly. Every time she looked at the clock, only mere minutes had passed. Now and then, she’d peer over to Matt’s desk. Most of the time he’d have his back to her, but sometimes he’d be talking to Ronnie and would catch her eye, a dazzling smile appearing on his face.

She didn’t have the adequate vocabulary to describe how adorable Matt Devlin truly was.

After her lunch, she’d been given some work to do which she became immersed in, completely forgetting about the time and what was happening around her. She only became aware of her surroundings again when Ronnie placed a warm hand on her shoulder. 

“You ready?” 

She looked up to him smiling down at her, she saved her work and switched off the computer. “More than ready.” Grabbing her bag and jacket, she met Ronnie by the door. 

“Matt just had to go drop off some paperwork, he said he’d meet us by the car.” Nodding, she followed Ronnie out to the back parking lot. 

Less than a minute later, Matt came strolling over to them smiling, swinging his keys around his finger.

Ronnie let Saylor ride shotgun, even though she insisted she would be fine in the back seat.  “It’s the most gentlemanly thing to do.”  He smiled as he got into the back. She looked at Matt over the roof of the car rolling her eyes but got in the font anyway. 

When they reached the little pizza place, they found a booth near the back and settled in. Once Matt had taken his coat and scarf off, he got the drink orders and went to the bar. 

Ronnie and Saylor were having a full blown conversation when the bell above the door chimed, indicating that someone had entered the restaurant. 

Both looking up at the noise, they could see four people entering and looking around. Saylor only recognised one of the people. Mike.

“Oh god.” 

She shook her head and looked to Ronnie.

“What is it?” She enquired. 

“That women behind Mike, she’s from the evidence team. Completely obsessed with Matt, finds any excuse to come up to the office to see him.” He sniggered, evidently amused.

“Honestly, can’t say I blame her.” Saylor laughed at the surprise on Ronnie’s face. 

“I’ll remember that remark!” He jokingly threatened her, but before Saylor could reply, the group had reached their table, and the women who Ronnie had pointed out sat down next to Saylor. 

“I’ll go help Matt with the drinks now we have more people.” Ronnie got up and headed to where Matt still stood at the bar. 

Saylor just stared after him in complete disbelief that he had left her with a bunch of strangers. 

Not even a second after Ronnie had left his seat, Mike slid in the booth next to her. She tried her damn hardest not to shift away from him when he shuffled in closer to her. 

Finally, the two men came back from the bar, hands full of drinks and distributed them out to everyone. She caught Matt's eye when he handed her, her drink then his eyes shifted to both sides of her. His eyes showed concern but he mouthed a ‘sorry’ to her. Replying with a gentle smile, she let him know she was okay. For now. 

“Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. My name is Alice! and this is Chase, we work in the evidence lab.” Alice held out her hand which Saylor shook, then proceeded to shake Chase’s hand as well, of which he held onto her hand a second longer but then just smiled at her and sat back into the booth. 

“Saylor, I’m the new tech wiz in the office.” She changed her attention back to Alice who was now sizing her up. 

“Oh, lucky you. You get to be in the office all the time and be around Matt.” Saylor looked to Matt who was conversing with Ronnie and tried to think innocent and professional thoughts. 

“He’s an amazing person. I mean I’ve only known him for two days and he’s been nothing but kind to me.” 

“He’s more than amazing. Have you seen him? He’s so yummy. If only he could see how amazing I am, I’d take him straight home and do nasty things with him.” Saylor was taken aback by the way Alice was talking about one of her coworkers. 

All she could do was laugh uncomfortably and turn away hoping to end the conversation but she forgot that the person on the other side of her was Mike. She was trapped. 

“Don’t take no notice of her, she has no filter and has been completely obsessed over Matt for years.” Chase reached over and moved Alice out of his way so he could sit next to Saylor. “I’ve heard way worse come from her mouth about that man.” Saylor gave the man a ‘oh god’ look but smiled at him anyway, glad that finally she was sitting next to someone she could converse with normally. 

The rest of the meal was relatively normal. Although she missed the time with Ronnie and Matt, she found that Chase was also someone she could see herself calling a friend in the future. He’d also saved her when Mike shifted unbearably close to her so again, but then Chase switched seats meaning she was back next to Alice, and she’d take that over sitting next to Mike any day.

When they were getting ready to leave, Chase also offered her a lift home but she had to decline, looking up to see Matt waiting for her by the door, his sparkling eyes dancing in the candlelight. “Thank you, that’s really kind, but Matt already promised me a lift home. Thank you for saving me tonight, twice!” She laughed. 

“No problem. Anytime.” Then he did something unexpected. He grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. She didn’t know how to react so she just smiled and waved her goodbyes. 

“You ready?” Matt smiled at her, opening the door. 

“Yes.” She walked out into the rain, Ronnie trailing behind her and the three made their way to the car parked just outside. 

They dropped Ronnie off first and bid their goodnights to him, and then for the first time that night, it was just the two of them. 

Saylor gave him the directions to her flat before any conversations started. 

“Seems you have many admirers already!” 

Saylor chuckled and turned to look at Matt, the streetlights highlighting his sharp features as they drove. “That's funny because I hear you have admirers too!” 

“Urg, if you’re talking about Alice, I don’t want to hear about it. She’s a nice person and I respect her but agreeing to go on a date with her was one of the worst decisions I've ever made.” He glanced at Saylor in the passenger seat to see her beaming at him.

“You went on a date with her? I bet that was eventful!.” 

“Oh! it was, but I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of hearing about it.” Saylor huffed out a ‘spoil sport’ and went back to facing the front of the car.

“Did you enjoy tonight?” 

“I did, everyone’s so nice. Shame I didn’t get to speak to you and Ronnie much. I was kind of trapped between Alice and Mike, who, for some reason I can’t put my finger on why, but he gives me the creeps.” She shivered in her seat. 

“Yeah, I could see how uncomfortable you were with him earlier.” 

“Luckily Chase was there to put a barrier between us.” She didn’t look but she could tell he was glancing at her. 

“Ah Chase! think he has a thing for you.” They both looked at each other when Saylor laughed out loud. 

“Yeah well nothing will come of it. For one, he’s a nice guy, but I don’t feel any attraction towards him. And secondly, I promised myself long ago not to date coworkers.” Matt's face fell, and for a moment she thought she saw disappointment in his eyes, but it was only a flash. 

She couldn’t say anymore though as he pulled up to her apartment. 

Looking up at her door, she sighed. She’d told Matt that about coworker relationships, but every time they were close, all she wanted to do was be in his arms and just feel his arms wrapped around her.  

She opened the door but turned back to Matt. “Thank you for being so kind to me in my first few days and for dropping me off home.” 

He smiled in reply and she wondered if she’d ever get tired of that smile. She doubted it.

Without time to think it through, she reached over the centre console and kissed him on the cheek. Once she realised what she had done, she moved back a bit to read his reaction, but all she saw was shock and happiness all mixed together,  and gods, she really wanted to kiss him. She could see he wanted the same as his eyes travelled down to her lips. 

But she couldn’t let it happen. 

So, she pulled back further and finally got out of the car. 

“Goodnight Matt.”

[chloelucia13]

Chapter 12: The Mind Flayer

Pairing: none for the moment (currently Jonathan Byers x Platonic!Henderson!reader)

Prompt:  You always thought Hawkins was the most boring town of all, stuck in a vacuum void of excitement and entertainment. Well, it seems that way until the world decided to flip upside down, literally.

Chapter Summary: Returning to the lab proved more difficult than you had thought, and it wasn’t just because of the demogorgon-like creatures that littered the town. But when everyone was finally out, a savior finally showed up on the Byers’ porch.

Warnings: LOTS OF ANGST, maybe a tiny bit of fluff, language, lots of conflict, descriptions of violence and gore, AND JONATHAN IS BACK BABEY

Word Count: 3082

A/N: Finally some drama! I’m really excited to hear what you guys think of this chapter, and I’m especially excited to release next week’s chapter because it literally made me cry when I was writing it. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy! As always, the taglist is open! Let me know what you guys think!

Catch up here!

Tags: @just-my-fandom​, @nightbu-g​ 

You hadn’t realized just how long you had been standing that day until your feet ached with every step you took.

“You’re positive that was Dart?” Lucas asked as you all walked along the train tracks, making the trek home.

“Yes, he had the same yellow pattern on his butt,” Dustin responded shortly.

“Wait, hold on,” you spoke up. “You named that thing?”

“Obviously, keep up Y/N.” He huffed.

“He was tiny just two days ago,” Lucas brought up.

“Well he’s molted three times already.”

“Malted?” Steve questioned confusedly.

“Molted. Shed his skin to make room for growth. Like hornworms,” Dustin explained.

“When’s he gonna molt again?” Max asked.

“It’s gotta be soon. When he does, he’ll be fully grown. Or close to it. And so will his friends.”

“Yeah, and he’s gonna eat more than just cats,” Steve deadpanned.

“Wait, a cat?” Lucas cut in, stepping in front of Dustin to stop him. “Dart ate a cat?” 

“No, what? No,” Dustin scoffed.

"What are you talking about? He ate Mews,” Steve responded, even more confused than he was earlier.

“Mews? Who’s Mews?” Max asked, seeming almost as lost as Steve.

“My cat,” you huffed.

“Y/N! Steve!” Dustin whined.

“I knew it! You kept him!” Lucas accused, shoving Dustin slightly.

“No!”

“No?”

“No, I... He missed me. He wanted to come home.”

“Bullshit.”

“I didn’t know he was a demogorgon, okay?”

“Oh, so now you admit it?”

“Guys, who cares? We have to go,” Max interrupted, growing impatient.

“I care! You put the party in jeopardy! You broke the rule of law!” Lucas continued, ignoring Max.

“So did you!” Dustin countered.

“What?”

“You told a stranger the truth!”

Dustin shone his light in Max’s face, and Max looked away in annoyance and disbelief. “A stranger?” she spat.

You and Steve shared a look as they continued to fight, both of you silently arguing on who needed to butt into the conversation and stop it before it went too far. That silent argument quickly ended, however, when you both heard a loud screeching in the distance. Steve shone his light in that direction, and you walked slowly beside him towards the source of the sound.

“Guys?” Steve voiced.

The kids ignored him, continuing to bicker.

“Guys!” you shouted, startling them all and making them look at you, panic rising in your throat. The screeching continued, and the two of you jogged forward.

“No, no, no. Hey guys? Why are you running towards the sound?” Max asked as Dustin and Lucas began following behind you and Steve. “Hello? Hello?” She let out a huff before hurrying to catch up with you all.

The screeching continued in the distance as you all stood at the edge of the cliff that overlooked the Hawkins Forest.

“I don’t see him,” Dustin sighed.

Lucas raised his binoculars to his eyes as he surveyed the forest, pulling them away a moment later with a look of worry on his face. “It’s the lab. They’re going back home.”

***

You were silent on the rushed trek down to the lab, unable to even imagine speaking without bursting into tears. You felt like it was your fault. Like a butterfly effect. If you had stayed at the lab for Will, none of this would’ve happened. These strange creatures wouldn’t exist, and no one’s life would be at stake.

Bile had been lingering in the back of your throat since you had seen all the lights in the lab shut off, and at this point, you thought you were about to pass out from panic and guilt.

Luckily, you all had made it to the fenced area around the lab in record time, and you were now making your way around the fenced area to get to the automated gate.

“Hello? Who’s there?” a voice shouted just past the clearing of trees, and it made you jump. You immediately gripped onto Steve’s wrist, shaking like a leaf as you all made your way through the clearing, Steve’s flashlight shining through the dark night.

As soon as two figures came into view, their voices echoed in unison. “Steve? Y/N?”

“Nancy?” Steve spoke, shocked.

“Jonathan?” you whispered out, mirroring his shock.

“What are you guys doing here?” Nancy asked, all of you rushing forward to gather together.

“What are you guys doing here?” Steve echoed.

“We’re looking for Mike and Will.”

“They’re not in there, are they?” Dustin asked, and your stomach churned.

“We’re not sure.”

“They are,” you choked out, staring up at the looming building. “I-I was supposed to come back for them. I just went home to grab this stupid thing-” you waved your machete in your hand- “and now they’re stuck in there a-and...” You trailed off, tears welling in your eyes.

An ear-splitting screech broke through the air, and you let out a silent sob. The tears began to flow freely as you rushed over to the gate, wedging the tip of the blade between the two bars that held the gate closed. You tried with all your might to wedge them open, but to no avail. “No, no, no,” you cried out, hooking your fingers into the chain link and jangling it. “Fuck!”

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and you immediately flinched away from it, turning around to see Jonathan standing there. “Y/N,” he whispered, trying to calm you down. “The power is back on.”

You nodded, fervently scrubbing the tears away from your cheeks before stepping away from him. The creaking of the gate motor sounded, and you watched as it slowly inched open. 

“Come on, Y/N, we’ve gotta go!” Jonathan shouted at you as he hopped in the driver’s seat of his car. 

You shook your head. “I-I need to stay here. I need to make sure they all get out. I can’t,” you explained, your voice cracking with every word.

You knew Jonathan didn’t have the time to argue, and you stepped aside to let them drive in and pick them up. He sped past you, leaving you and Steve and the kids at the gate.

“You okay?” Steve asked, stepping over to you.

“No, I don’t think so,” you whispered, sniffling.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He patted your shoulder.

You nodded, standing there for a moment. “You’re right, Steve.”

“About what?”

“I only like the people who don’t care about me.”

He examined your face, trying to find the right words to say. 

“Guys!” Max shouted, and you looked up to see Jonathan’s car, followed by Hopper’s car. You all immediately cleared the way to let them drive through, and Hopper pulled up next to you all.

“Let’s go,” he urged, and you all clambered into the car before speeding off.

***

You silently sat in the dark dining room, your knees tucked up under your chin as you stared blankly into the living room at Will’s sleeping figure, Jonathan sat next to him. You could hear Hopper yelling demands into the phone just feet from you, but it felt like it could’ve been 100 yards away. It was like your head was underwater, everything sounding warbled and muted. You knew that feeling all too well, that sensation. You were dissociating, completely checked out as your brain replayed every horrible thought on a loop until you felt as if you were going insane.

“Hey Y/N, you there?” 

You felt a tap against your shoulder and you jumped to your feet, grabbing onto whatever touched you and holding it tightly in your fist.

“Y/N, Y/N! It’s me! It’s Jonathan!”

Your vision cleared and you saw Jonathan’s wrist clasped tightly between your fingers. You immediately loosened your grip and shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Sorry,” you voiced flatly.

He rubbed his wrist, his eyes flickering over your form. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

“I’m fine.” You squeezed past him, out of the dining room and into the kitchen.

A moment later, the kids and Steve hurried into the kitchen, gathering around the kitchen table. Hopper, Nancy, and Jonathan all entered after them, everyone bunching up around the table as Dustin laid down a book.

“The mind flayer,” Dustin announced, referring to the creature printed on the page the book was opened to.

“What the hell is that?” Hopper voiced from behind the group, disdain in his voice.

“It’s a monster from an unknown dimension. It’s so ancient, it doesn’t even know its true home.” Dustin glanced around the table, noticing the disinterest and confusion on everyone’s faces. “Okay, it enslaves other dimensions by taking over their brains using its highly developed psionic powers.”

“Oh my god. None of this is real. It’s a kid’s game,” Hopper interrupted, already growing frustrated.

“It’s a manual. And it’s not for kids. And unless you know something that we don’t, this is the best metaphor-”

“Analogy,” Lucas corrected.

“Analogy. That’s what you’re worried about? Fine, an analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is,” Dustin huffed.

“Okay, so this mind flamer thing-” Nancy began.

“Flayer. Mind flayer,” Dustin corrected.

Nancy let out a sigh. “What does it want?”

“To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race.”

“Like the Germans,” Steve generalized.

“Nazis, Steve,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes.

“Yeah, the Nazis.”

“Uh, if the Nazis were from another dimension, totally,” Dustin agreed. “It views other races, like us, as inferior to itself.”

“It wants to spread, take over other dimensions,” Mike added.

“We’re talking about the destruction of our world as we know it,” Lucas continued.

“That’s great. That’s great. That’s really great. Jesus!” Steve rambled, turning away and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Okay, so if thing is like a brain that’s controlling everything, then if we kill it,” Nancy voiced, picking up the book.

“We kill everything it controls,” Mike completed her thought.

“We win,” Dustin concluded.

“Theoretically,” Lucas corrected.

Hopper took the book from Nancy’s hands, examining the page. “Great. So how do you kill this thing? Shoot it with fireballs or something?” he grumbled.

“No. No, no fireballs,” Dustin chuckled. “Uh, you summon an undead army, uh, because...” He began to stutter, remembering who he was talking to. “Because zombies, you know, don’t have brains. And the mind flayer, it... It likes brains.It’s just a game. It’s a game.”

“What the hell are we doing here,” Hopper huffed, closing the book and tossing it onto the table.

You let out a sigh, stepping away from the table and hopping up onto the kitchen counter, sitting there silently as everyone began to bicker.

“If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, It’s Will. And maybe Y/N,” Mike spoke, pulling you from your trance. “He’s connected to it. He’ll know its weakness.” Mike turned to you. “And you were in the upsidedown with him. You’ve been with him through this. And you knew something was wrong with him, that day at the school.”

You shrugged. “It was just a feeling. And I haven’t experienced anything Will is going through. I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

“But wait,” Max interrupted. “I thought we couldn’t trust him anymore. That he’s a spy for the mind flayer now.”

“Yeah, but he can’t spy if he doesn’t know where he is,” Mike countered.

***

You were sifting through one of the few closets full of stuff in the Byers’ house when someone cleared their throat behind you.

“Hey Y/N, can we talk?” Jonathan asked from behind you before moving to sit next to you on the floor. You nodded silently in response, prompting him to continue talking. “I... I really appreciate you helping Will and Mom. It really means a lot.”

Again, you just nodded. 

“Are... Are you and Steve dating?”

“What?” you voiced, finally taking your gaze away from the pile of fabric to look at Jonathan. “No, God no.” You scoffed before turning back to the pile, pulling out an old comforter. “Are you and Nancy dating?”

“I... I don’t know. I think so.”

You hummed, picking up the pile of sheets you had found that would work as decent coverings for the shed.

“I-I just asked because you and Steve were together with the kids.”

“Yeah, well he’s been one of the only people who has given a shit about me these past few days, so maybe that’s why.” You pushed yourself to your feet and turned to walk away, only for Jonathan to step in front of you.

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” He reached out and rested his hand on your shoulder. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “I don’t really think I can anymore. I mean, I was gonna the day after Halloween. You know, the night you left me at that party so you could take Nancy home? But then you disappeared with Nancy, so maybe I just shouldn’t waste my fucking time trying to talk to you.”

“Y/N-”

“We’ll talk about this when Will is better. Or will you even be around?” You shoved past him and stormed out of the house, over to the shed.

“Let’s get this shit done with,” you told Steve, tossing the sheets to the ground by his feet. Both Steve and Nancy gave you a confused look before exchanging a look between themselves. “What?”

“Are you okay?” Nancy asked, reaching out towards you.

You turned away from her, grabbing a sheet off the floor. “I’m just fine.”

***

You were almost fast asleep with your head laying against the kitchen table when Hopper, Joyce, Mike, and Jonathan all stormed in. Bob grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and everyone gathered around him as he began to write down a series of dots and dashes.

“What happened?” Dustin questioned as everyone watched over Hopper’s shoulder.

“I think he’s talking, but not with words,” Hopper sighed.

“What is that?” Steve asked, his brows furrowed.

“Morse code,” Lucas and Dustin and Mike replied in unison.

“H-E-R-E,” Hopper spelled out.

“Here,” Max cut in.

“Will’s still in there. He’s talking to us.”

“So we need to keep him aware, keep reminding him of where he is,” you stammered out. “Maybe he can tell us how to help him.”

Jonathan immediately rushed out of the room, and a small glimmer of hope began to reside in your chest, making your heart race. 

“Maybe you can talk to him,” Mike spoke, and you nodded slowly.

“I mean, I can try.” 

Jonathan rushed back in with his radio in his hand, and Hopper and Joyce followed behind him into the backyard and to the shed.

Hopper stopped in the doorway, grabbing Will’s radio off of the kitchen counter. “I’m gonna send you what he says. Write it down,” Hopper instructed before leaving.

***

The letters “C-L-O-S-E-G” were written out on a piece of cardboard when Hopper entered the room.

“Y/N?” he voiced, and you rose to your feet. “It’s your turn.”

You nodded, following Hopper out into the shed. You closed the door behind you before you slowly moved over to the empty seat positioned in front of Will. 

“Hey bud,” you whispered, sitting down. “It’s me, Y/N. Do you remember me?” You searched his fearful eyes as he shook his head. “We... We were stuck in the Upside Down together. I had found you there, in Castle Byers.”

Tears were already welling in your eyes. “I protected you while we were there,” you continued, your voice cracking. “You were so tired, so cold. One night, a day or two before we got out, you... You weren’t doing so well. But you didn’t want to fall asleep, you were scared. So I told you stories that my mom would tell me to get me to go to sleep. And I sang you Joy Division.” You wiped away a few of the tears that had fallen down your cheeks. “That was the only time I saw you smile when we were there, and it... It gave me hope. It helped me believe that we would get out of there. And we did. And I know that you feel like you’re still stuck in there, I know that you’re scared. But I’m here with you. We’re all here with you. And it’s gonna be okay.”

A small sob began to bubble in your chest when he stayed silent, but it quickly turned into a gasp of horror as you heard the ringing of the telephone sound from inside the house. Will’s head immediately snapped in that direction before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and a strange sound echoed in his chest.

You stumbled out of the and backed away as Hopper and Joyce rushed forward. “It knows. It knows where we are,” Hopper voiced gravely.

Joyce immediately ran over and grabbed the syringe filled with a tranquilizer and injected it into Will’s arm, effectively knocking him out. A moment later, a familiar screeching filled the air.

You all worked to free Will from his binds before you all ran back inside, slamming the door shut behind you. Steve handed you your machete as soon as he saw you, and you gripped the handle tight.

Nancy took a shotgun from Hopper, and you, Nancy, Steve, and Hopper all stood in front of everyone else, wielding your weapons. A loud thud echoed from the side of the house, and you all shifted to face that way.

“What are they doing?” Nancy voiced.

Snarling sounded to your right, and you all shifted again. Its screeches grew louder and louder, and your heart began to thud in your ears.

And then, silence.

A moment later, glass flew all around the room as the body of one of the creatures flew through the front window, rolling limply onto the floor. You all inched closer towards it, ready for it to lunge.

“Holy shit,” Dustin exclaimed.

“Is it dead?” Max asked, hesitant. 

Hopper pushed its head with his foot, watching as it lolled around.

You opened your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the creaking of the front door. Startled, all of you turned in that direction. The lock on the door slid out of place, and the other lock on the doorknob turned before the door inched open.

In the doorway stood a girl, one that you recognized immediately.

You all lowered your weapons as Eleven stepped through the door, blood dripping from her nose.

[hartigays]

“I’m in love with you." "Shut up and kiss me."

1. “I’m in love with you.”

4. “Shut up and kiss me.”

steve comes in from the cold with a shiver, knocking his boots against the doorframe to shake loose any remaining snow.

there’s a thin trickle of snot dribbling from steve’s nose, and he wipes it off with a gloved hand, sniffling. he doesn’t have to look in the mirror to know that his nose is red and chapped after the hours he’d spent outside clearing the traps.

“we get anything good?” hopper asks. he’s squatting by the fireplace, tossing some logs and sticks into the flames.

steve brandishes the belt of rabbits and squirrels he’d collected, smiling. “we did pretty good, all things considered.”

joyce is the first to jump up, examining their kill with a gleeful smile. it’s been a few weeks since they’ve gotten this much in the traps, and they’re in dire need of protein. steve wants to strip a rabbit clean and roast it over the fire to feed el right then and there, her sunken-in eyes concerning him more than anything.

“good thing, too,” joyce says, sighing happily. “we need it. help me in the kitchen, will ya, hop?”

the two disappear into the kitchen, and steve makes his way into the living room, crouching down by the fire to warm his hands. the kids are gathered around under an assortment of blankets; el is curled into max’s side, and will his mimicking their position with mike. dustin and lucas are huddling for warmth as well, curled up under the same flannel blanket.

“we eat tonight?” el asks, fixing steve with inquisitive eyes.

steve nods, leaning over to ruffle her hair. “sure are, kid.”

it’s been over a year since the world went to shit, every corner of the earth crawling with the living dead. they still aren’t sure how it happened, but they’ve managed to adapt as best as they can as a group, under the circumstances.

steve has been thankful since day one that he’d been with the party when this shit went down, rather than home alone in his big, empty house.

joyce and hopper had been holding a family dinner when the world basically ended, so steve had been in the company of them, all the kids, nancy, and jonathan when the first of the flesh-eaters staggered its way onto the porch. el had taken care of it quickly, but it was the first of many.

after that, they’d stayed at the byers house for as long as they could, but it’d been a matter of time before they’d needed to go on the move in search of food. along the way they’d come across robin and heather, trapped in robin’s house with the rotting corpses of her parents.

it hadn’t been more than a few days after picking them up, everyone parked in their cars in a vacant lot trying to ride things out, that a herd had passed through. the group had fought with all their might, but they’d been hopelessly outnumbered.

that is, until one crazy motherfucker with enough firepower to rival a small army came blazing through, blowing the head off of anything that had once been dead and since came back to life.

and that motherfucker had been none other than billy hargrove.

billy had survived the first wave of flesh-eaters by letting them overrun his house, using neil as bait. steve hadn’t asked too many questions about why billy had been so comfortable using his father as a tasty snack for the living dead; he’d met neil once or twice, he didn’t need to ask.

and one good thing about neil was his tendency to stockpile weapons. which, in any other situation, might not look so good. but in these times, it was nothing short of a blessing.

an unfortunate casualty of billy’s neil-turned-zombie-snack plan had been susan. according to billy, he’d tried his hardest to get her to leave with him and max, but she’d refused to leave neil’s side. even after neil turned into a flesh-eating monster, trying to rip her head off, susan had declined to leave her home.

it was only a matter of time before she became dinner for a pea-brained flesh-eater. billy had to pull max away as she kicked and screamed, initially not wanting to accept her mother’s fate. but it was too late - the moment susan had gotten a chunk ripped out of her neck by the thing that had once been her husband, max stopped fighting.

it’d only been a few days later that they’d swung in and saved the party’s collective ass, staving off the now near-inevitable fate of every living creature on this planet. that fate being the inevitability of being torn apart by flesh-eating monsters, only to be reanimated as flesh-hungry monsters themselves.

now, the group is holed up in a dilapidated home that had once been a bed and breakfast of sorts, just trying to ride this shit out without losing their heads. and they haven’t lost anyone yet, by some miraculous stroke of luck.

that isn’t to say that they don’t worry every day that each hour might be their last. but they’re thankful for the small things.

steve acknowledges this now, as he appraises the group of kids before him. although they’re more like teenagers now, having grown up far too fast during all of the chaos.

el opens up the blanket she’s sharing with max, gesturing for steve to come get warm. he accepts her invitation gratefully, curling up under the blanket as another shiver runs through him.

“cold,” el says, her eyes meeting steve’s. she has a hand covering his icy fingers, her brows furrowed in concern. “too cold.”

“don’t worry, kid. i’ll warm him up.”

the voice comes from the hallway, and a moment later billy appears at the threshold, leaning against the doorframe with a toothy smile.

steve can’t help but roll his eyes, even though his stomach does a little flip-flop. el’s eyes flit between them, her brows coming even closer together in confusion.

“ugh,” nancy groans from the kitchen. steve sees her shoot billy a disapproving look. “keep it in the bedroom, hargrove. there are kids here.”

“hey, we’re like, old now. we know what sex is!” dustin protests.

steve chokes on his own spit, his cheeks heating up. “we are not having sex! i don’t even - that’s not even - i can’t believe - that’s just - it’s just. it’s wrong - we don’t even -”

billy gives steve a look, his brows raised, and it effectively cuts off steve’s rambling protests. because, okay, it’s not like billy is wrong, per se. steve has seen billy’s dick more than his own in recent weeks. but really, can anyone blame him? like, it’s the end of the world, for fucks’ sake. it’s not like he has many options to choose from.

and it doesn’t help that billy is, like, disgustingly hot, even after having not showered in months.

maybe steve is just weak. or maybe he’d thought about riding billy into the sunset more often than not before the world decided to go and practically spin off its axis. either way, he doesn’t hold himself solely responsible for having fallen into bed with billy the moment billy had used a cheap pickup line when steve had taken a few too many sips of toilet wine, and had stayed there ever since.

steve heaves himself up off the floor, scuffling over to billy to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. “quit it. they don’t need the details.”

“but i like the details,” billy protests, though it’s more to be annoying than to actually argue.

billy tugs steve in by the lapels of his coat, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. steve can’t help but smile into the kiss, his heart doing little somersaults in his chest.

“you did good with the traps,” steve tells him, bumping their noses together. “got enough to last us ‘bout a week.”

“told you they’d work,” billy says, sticking his tongue out. “and you said i was too much of a city boy. better pay up, princess.”

steve rolls his eyes, despite the fact that he’s pulling billy in closer. “i stand corrected. happy now?”

“ecstatic.”

billy leans in for another kiss, but steve steps back with a cheeky smile, backing into the kitchen despite billy’s disbelieving look.

steve helps joyce and hopper strip and clean their kill, stringing up most of it above the fire to form jerky in the smoke. the rest they cook up for their evening meal, finally having enough food for everyone to go to bed with a full stomach.

later, after a long evening spent laughing and eating around the fire, the group turns in for bed, sated and full. steve offers to take on cleanup duty for the evening, so he’s the last to make his way to his room, trudging up the stairs with an armful of blankets.

billy is already laying in bed, lounging in nothing but sweatpants, cocooned in their comforter. they’d originally shared a room with nancy and jonathan, but the two had switched to bunk with robin and heather once they realized billy didn’t care whether or not they were present when he wanted to get laid.

it’s not like steve really cared either - billy is tight and warm and all the things steve wants to bury himself into after a long day of trying to survive. and it can’t be said that billy isn’t a giver either - he has a dick and he knows how to use it. steve can attest to that fact. he’s experienced far too many days of not being able to walk straight to say anything less.

and billy’s appetites aren’t anything steve can complain about, because they now have a room to themselves. which is nice for reasons other than being able to pound each other into their mattress. they can stay up late whispering to each other, talking about the future and their dreams and how they feel.

turns out billy isn’t just busting it open for steve’s monster dick. he’s after steve’s heart, too, and steve is more than happy to give it to him. despite billy being an absolute tool in high school, he’s turned out to be a soft-hearted romantic in the midst of the apocalypse.

“you’ve gotta stop alluding to our sex life in front of the kids,” steve says as he crawls into bed, having changed into a warm set of flannel pajamas that he’d grabbed from a wal-mart on one of their many food runs.

billy just looks at him, his blue eyes big and innocent. “but how else will everyone know you’re mine?”

steve snorts, snacking billy’s bare shoulder. “i think you’ve made that abundantly clear. seriously, hop is gonna force us to sit down with him and have ‘the talk’ if you don’t cut it out.”

“sounds sexy,” billy says with a wink, and steve can’t help his cackle. “‘sides, they said it themselves. they’re not kids anymore.”

“it’s still weird,” steve groans. “and you act like they don’t hear us railing each other nine times out of ten. the walls here are like paper.”

“railing each other, huh? i don’t believe you. i think we need to test that out to see if that’s actually what we do.”

steve shoves billy with a groan that’s half a laugh. “oh my god, you’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“only for you, sweetheart,” billy tells him, tongue poking out between his teeth.

“shut up and kiss me, asshole.”

billy normally would challenge steve given the insult, but not tonight. instead, he rolls over, tugging steve in and sealing their lips together with a contented sigh. steve isn’t sure if it’s because he’d been gone for hours clearing the traps, or if billy is just in a cuddly mood, but steve certainly isn’t complaining. he just kisses billy until both of their lips are swollen and bruised.

it’s when they break apart that billy fixes steve with a wide-eyed stare, his chest heaving a little. “i’m in love with you.”

steve’s heart feels like it stops in chest, and his mouth pops open in surprise. “wait, seriously?”

it’s not what steve means to say, but it’s not innaccurate. he is in disbelief, just a little. billy looks kind of self-conscious, his eyes drifting up towards the ceiling. he rolls onto his back, putting some distance between them.

steve reaches out and catches billy’s hand, threading their fingers together. “hey, i didn’t - that’s not what i meant. i mean, i love you too. i thought that was obvious.”

billy’s head snaps over to look at him, his eyes narrowed. “yeah? you’re not just saying that ‘cause i’m the only hot piece of ass left within a fifty-mile radius?”

“you were the only hot piece of ass within a fifty-mile radius before the world ended,” steve mutters, his thumb rubbing across the softness of billy’s skin. “i mean, seriously. i didn’t need the dead to rise up for me to know that.”

“oh,” billy says, and steve can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek. “thought you were only in it ‘cause you didn’t have any options left. y’know, nancy having ditched you for stalker boy and robin liking pussy and all.”

steve shoots billy a disbelieving look, snorting softly. “billy, you literally had me getting hard for you in the showers after basketball practice. doesn’t bother me than you’re not a girl, if that’s what you’re worried about. i fucked tommy when i was fourteen.”

billy chokes out a surprised laugh, and it echoes around the room. “you’re fuckin’ kidding me.”

“nope.”

“well, shit. thought you were straight as an arrow before all this,” billy says thoughtfully. “would’ve paid to see you fuck hagan. bet he cries when he cums.”

“nah, he giggles. which is somehow weirder,” steve laughs. “wonder if he’s dead.”

“dunno, saw him with perkins at the school when everyone was gathering there for that refugee camp they kept talking about. got overrun, last i heard,” billy says with a shrug. “maybe he made it out.”

“i hope so,” steve hums, then shrugs when billy gives him a pointed look. “he was my best friend once upon a time, you know. just ‘cause you’re jealous doesn’t mean i hope he’s dead.”

“yeah, yeah,” billy snorts, rolling his eyes. “can we fuck now? i need to get the image of you pounding hagan out of my mind.”

“why, that get you worked up?” steve teases, poking at billy’s cheek with his index finger.

billy just catches steve’s wrists in his hands and rolls him onto his back, straddling his hips and pinning him to the mattress. steve can’t help but giggle when billy leans down to kiss him, tangling his fingers in his curls when billy releases his wrists.

the world is a bleak place these days, but steve has carved out his own slice of happiness despite it. smiling into billy’s kisses, the warm weight of billy on top of him, grounding him, steve knows he’ll do whatever it takes to defend his little piece of paradise.

and maybe it’s not what steve envisioned for himself back when he was an idealistic teenager. but he’s not going to argue it. it’s not like they have much left to find joy in, after all.

steve will take whatever piece of it that he can get.

send me super sappy prompts!

[stxn-the-mxn]

Family || 2019!Richie Tozier X Daughter!Reader

IT CHAPTER 2 SPOILERS

Being in the town of Derry felt more surreal than anything. It didn’t seem real, actually being in the town your father grew up in. Richie didn’t talk about Derry, in fact, he never once mentioned his childhood. In the fifteen years you’d been alive, not once was Derry mentioned. The first time it had ever been mentioned had been the night he came home and started packing.

***

It hadn’t been that long since you’d gone to bed, 1:30 am most likely. Usually, you went to bed earlier, maybe 10 pm or 11 pm, but on nights when Richie had a show, it would be hours till you went to bed.

It was a tradition for you to watch every one of your dad’s stand up shows, and hope that some of the jokes you had written made it in. Richie made it his mission to have at least one of your own jokes in his set.

Tonight, he had included three of yours, which all went down well after his hiccup at the start. One of yours got the biggest laugh, and you could see Richie’s proud face through the screen.

You switched off the TV after the show ended, and as usual, crashed on the couch. When Richie got home, he usually carried you back to your room, but that night, he made no move to pick you up, pacing around their rather large home instead.

“Dad? What’s going on?” You wiped the sleep from your eyes, as Richie thundered around the house. It was around 2 am, a regular time for Richie to come home after a show, but usually, he tried to be quiet to let you sleep. Tonight was not one of those nights.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry, I tried to be quiet, I did. I jus-”

The empty suitcase in his hand rang some quiet alarms.

“Dad? Where are you going?”

“Home. I have to go home.”

“Take me with you.”

Richie thought it over. He couldn’t in good faith leave you home alone for as long as he would be gone. Surely you’d be fine if you did what he said. After all, he promised you all those years ago, when one of his late-night flings left a baby girl on his doorstep, that he would be the best damn father around.

“Only if you promise to not leave my sight.”

You held up your crossed fingers and crossed those fingers over your heart. 

“Right well, get packing, sweetie. We leave as soon as we’re done.”

***

The drive to Derry was a combination of obnoxiously singing along to the radio and you catching up on some sleep. The sign welcoming you to Derry sent a shiver down your spine, not going unnoticed by Richie.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“W-what? Oh! Yeah, yeah I’m good.”

He didn’t believe you but didn’t bring it up again. 

The car pulled into the parking lot of the Jade of the Orient, a Chinese restaurant. Your dad seemed almost shocked by its presence. Clearly, this wasn’t in Derry when he was a kid. Richie spotted two other people off to the side and seemed to recognize them.

“Big Ben? Bev?” You trailed behind him, a few meters behind, somewhat out of sight.

“Richie?” The woman asked, not noticing you as you peered at the two adults. The taller male made direct eye contact with you, a confused expression forming. You stepped closer, not caring if they saw you at this point.

“Uh, Richie, you seem to have a fan.” ‘Big Ben’ said, gesturing behind him. Richie whipped around, only to be met with you smiling awkwardly at him.

“Oh, no, actually this is my daughter, Y/N.”

The pair had extremely shocked faces. You felt a bit more offended than you should have at that comment. The pair seemed to notice but didn’t backtrack on their comments.

“I’m Beverly, it’s lovely to meet you.” Beverly held out a hand for you to shake, which you took happily. Ben simply greeted you with a smile.

“Well, let’s go meet everyone else. I wanna see how they react to Y/N.”

The whole vibe of the restaurant felt normal until you stepped into the reserved room for what you had heard was called “The Losers Club”. Your dad, being your dad, hit the gong on his way in, causing three heads to snap towards where the four of you were standing.

The three pairs of eyes stared at Richie, Ben and Beverly, before instantly snapping to you. Their expressions were similar to Ben and Beverly’s.

“Richie, Ben, Beverly.” One of the men at the table stated, trailing off as he looked at you again.

“Right, I’m starving. Let’s eat.” Richie cheered, and everyone else just accepted that Richie was not doing what they expected. And for some reason, they felt like that was what they expected.

“Hey, Rich, would you mind explaining who that is?” Another man asked, nodding in your direction.

“Oh! Right, this is my daughter.” The three men who weren’t Ben and Bev all dropped their jaws.

“It’s lovely to meet you all, I’m Y/N.” You smiled, feeling less nervous as they smiled back. Going around the table, they all introduced themselves as Mike Hanlon, Bill Denbrough and Eddie Kaspbrak.

You immediately noticed a strong bond between all of them, even if they had only reconnected less than an hour ago. It was a similar bond that you and your father had; family.

You also noticed a different bond between Richie and Eddie. It wasn’t news to you that your father wasn’t straight. And this Eddie man, no offence to anyone, did not give off straight vibes.

It was strange, how well you felt you fit in with the group of forty-year-olds. You and Eddie found many a common interest, including joking around and teasing Richie. The more Richie remembered, the more he realised that you were basically a baby Eddie, save for the hypochondriac-ness.

It brought a smile to his face as he watched the two of you mucking about like toddlers from beside him. 

Dinner continued on, and eventually, one of the waitresses brought out a bowl of fortune cookies. Everyone eagerly took one, cracking them open.

“Huh, mine just says ‘Could’. These cookies are bullshit.”

You looked at your slip of paper, and something about the words written caused that shiver to once again run down your spine.

Welcome to Derry, Y/N! Why don’t you stay forever?

Your hands were shaking, quite violently. Richie glanced over at you and immediately rushed to your side. He took the paper, reading it quickly before ripping it up. He hugged you tightly, comforting you like he would when you would get nightmares.

“You’re alright, sweetheart, you’re gonna be alright.”

***

You felt guilty, honestly. Richie had made you promise to stay in the hotel, not to set foot outside, but you didn’t listen. After finding yourself in a brand new town, so much different from your hometown, writing new material for your dad seemed bland. 

Exploring the place your dad grew up in seemed way more fun. Plus, it was a small town, what could really go wrong? 

In your journey to the centre of town, the only thing that went wrong was the kid who almost ran you over with his skateboard. Aside from that, you were yet to run into the other adults or anyone for that matter. The Canal Days fair was drawing in quite the crowd.

Turning the corner, you froze.

Something about the abandoned cinema in the middle of the town drew you in. It ran in Tozier blood to love the movies. Finding a hole through the newspaper, you pushed the door open. It was incredibly dusty, and you felt your throat constricting. Eddie had warned you earlier about how gross this town could be.

The hallway that led to the cinema was lit up, and the smell of popcorn was on the verge of overpowering all your senses. Something told you to run, walk, do anything in the opposite direction. But your body wasn’t listening, and you found yourself in the screening room in no time.

The screening room seemed harmless, but nothing in this town really was. You turned to leave when the sound of a projector turning on echoed through the empty room. Turning around slowly, every bone in your body trembling, you were met with the blinding white glow of the screen.

Your eyes locked with the harmless, yet frightening screen, panic settling in. 

The white screen wrinkled, and two beady yellow eyes opened. A scream latched itself in your throat, unable to escape through your dust infected lungs.

“Well, well, welcome to Derry, little Miss Tozier.” The face shrunk, smaller and smaller, and became a clown. At this moment, you wished your feet would just move, but alas, you remained glued to the spot.

The clown’s glowing eyes pierced your soul and reached out a gloved hand, grabbing the screen. The screen began to tear. The scream you were holding in escaped, causing the clown to laugh. Once the screen was entirely gone, the clown made his way towards you, leaping over the seats. 

Your feet, much to your dismay, remained glued to the ground. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t real. You would pinch yourself, open your eyes, and be back at home, watching some crappy movie and bullying it to death with your dad.

It wasn’t working. No matter how hard you pinched, no matter how many times you whispered that “it wasn’t real”, you kept opening your eyes to see that fucking clown.

Your entire body was shaking, all senses except sight seemed to disappear. The clown was only two rows away. One row away. Here. 

A gloved hand clamped around your neck, your already constricted throat growing tighter. The clown smiled, never breaking eye contact. Drool dripped from his mouth, as he growled lowly. His face contorted, turning into Richie.

“You’re useless. A burden. I should’ve left you on that fucking doorstep. You’ve done nothing but hold me back. I never even wanted a child. Your mother was a drunk mistake, and so are you. I might as well leave you here to die.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks. No, your dad would never… Is that really what he thought? Had he spent fifteen years blaming you in secret? No, no, he promised that he loved you. He swore on his life that you were his everything.

Maybe it was true… after all, would any gay man want to live with and raise a reflection of someone who he never wanted to be with?  No. You had to push the thundering thoughts aside. No.

“N-no.” Your voice was weak, only just loud enough to hear. “Richie” tilted his head, a sad expression on his face. His skin was reverting to the pasty white of the clown. 

“No? Poor Y/N doesn’t want to accept that no one truly loves or wants her. Not even her own father.”

“Y-you’re not r-r-real. You c-c-c-can’t be real.” Words struggled to form, and those that did struggled to escape. The clown dropped his Richie facade and in a terrifying turn of events, smiled at you.

His grip continued to tighten, and you could see black dots forming in your vision. The sensation of trickling blood set your mind ablaze. You didn’t know where it was coming from, but it was there, and the clown was the cause.

In your last seconds of consciousness, you heard the thundering sets of footsteps coming down the hall, but the clown had sensed them first. You felt like the world was spinning before everything faded to black, your father’s panicked, fearful face the last thing you saw.

***

“Fuck, shit, shit, fuck!” The five other losers sat, heads hanging as Richie stormed around the building. They didn’t know what to do. Who would, in this situation? Bill was the only one who was close to understanding what Richie was experiencing.

“I’m a terrible father.” His pacing stopped as his knees gave out, collapsing onto Eddie, who caught him with ease. He held Richie tightly, letting him sob into his shoulder. 

In the minutes since Richie had been too late, he was already struggling to come to terms with the gap of silence where you used to stand. It wasn’t right. It was unnatural, unheard of,  unorthodox. 

He couldn’t speak, the wave of guilt and despair pulling him out to sea.

“Richie, I wholeheartedly promise you that you are the best damn father ever. We are all going to get Y/N back, and we will stop at nothing until we do.”

Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie, and one by one the losers joined in. Y/N Tozier was a loser now. And losers never left a loser behind.

***

The sewers were cold, wet and extremely uncomfortable. It was impossible to tell how long you’d been stuck here, but you did know that you’d walked through what felt like thousands of tunnels. You just wanted your dad back.

You couldn’t shake the tiredness that weighed you down. Closing your eyes wasn’t an option. You couldn’t let your guard down, not for a second, unless dying at the hands of a killer clown was on your bucket list.

The clown hadn’t shown his face since he took you. Part of you felt relieved, you didn’t have to fear for your life yet. But God knows what he was doing on the surface. You could only hope and pray that your father and his friends were okay.

Tears cascaded down your cheeks as thoughts of your dad filled your mind. All you wanted was to be held in his arms again. Your dad was your everything, and you were his. This was most likely the longest you’d been away from each other. 

You threw a small pebble up and down, catching it over and over again. Your trajectory was off on one throw, and it bounced and rolled its way over to the wall. Building up some courage, you scampered over to where the rock was, but your mad dash back to the “safety hole” was cut short by an echo.

“Come one, we gotta squeeze through that hole. We can all make it through if we try hard enough.”

That was Mike’s voice. They had come to save you. Somehow, no matter how far below Derry you were, they found you. You ran to where Mike’s voice was coming from, tripping over the smaller spikes on the ground.

“M-M-Mike!” 

Said man’s jaw dropped and he ran towards you, and you grasped onto his jacket. Having a physical being to cling onto was calming. As you stood there, clinging to Mike for dear life, more people came through the small gap, the first being Beverly. She ran to you too, her hug even tighter than Mikes. She was the only loser who knew exactly what you had just experienced.

As Bill and Ben appeared, you could barely see them from between Mike and Bev’s arms. But they were there, and they were real and they were everything you needed right now.

“Y-you found m-m-me!” Bill looked at you surprised as you stuttered over your words. Your stutter wasn’t simply a stutter of fear, it was like his. He knew the causes of a stutter very well. And looking at the causes, he could cross out genetics and prayed he could cross out a brain disorder. Which left emotional trauma. Psychogenic stuttering.

As you remained surrounded by the four losers, quiet bickering drifted into the cavern. 

The four stepped aside as Eddie and Richie came through the hole. Eddie froze, his dropped jaw widening to a smile while Richie remained frozen. There you were, alive, seemingly unharmed, surrounded by all his closest friends.

“Y/N. Holy fucking shit, Y/N!” Eddie exclaimed, hugging the girl close to him. They had only known each other for a few days, but they were already extremely close.

Richie still hadn’t moved, so Y/N and Eddie took the first step, sending Richie into a crazed sprint as he ran to hold his daughter again. Tears blurred everyone’s vision as father and daughter reunited. 

If Richie had an option, he would have chosen to never let his precious baby go.

“Richie. We have to perform the ritual. It's now or never.” 

***

The Ritual of Chüd didn’t work. Mike hadn’t been telling the whole truth. And also, a spider-legged demon clown was chasing and tormenting the Losers Club. 

Each loser had run off in different directions, Richie and Eddie both pulling you with them as your eyes lay transfixed on the evil entity. The sewer’s tunnels were long, windy and tight at some areas. They seemed never-ending.

Until you came to a sudden stop.

Standing in front of the three doors, Richie, Eddie and yourself contemplated what to do. In this sort of situation, nothing was to be trusted. Flinging open the ‘Very Scary’ door, you all found an empty closet.

“O-oh. Well, this s-s-s-seems harmless eno- oh what the f-f-fuck?” You screamed as a pair of disembodied legs ran towards you. Richie pulled you behind him as he slammed the door shut. 

The next door they opened read ‘Not Scary At All’ and at this point you were highly doubting that. From behind your barrier of Eddie and Richie, you could see a small dog staring at you all. It also seemed harmless at first, so you waited for it to fuck around and scare the shit out of you.

“Aww, it’s actually kinda cute.” Eddie cooed, leaving you a tad confused. Richie seemed to agree, telling the dog to sit, which it did.

“Aw, that’s precious.”

The dog twisted into a beastly creature, which was truly inevitable, wasn’t it? Your father and Eddie screamed as if they hadn’t been expecting any of this. The door slammed shut, and you quickly found yourself running out of the cave, back to where this whole mess started.

As you stepped foot into the cavern, bright lights drew you in, and you couldn’t feel anything. You were numb to the world around you. The screams of your father were nothing but faint echoes.

You could feel yourself succumbing to the lights. You let them decide your fate. This was how it all ended.

Until the lights disappeared, and you came crashing into Richie. You blinked slowly, adjusting to the darkness once more. Richie cradled you to his chest as Eddie stood off to the side, amazed at what he had just done.

IT lunged a clawed limb at the Eddie, but he ducked in time for IT to get trapped in the rock walls. It was a chance to escape.

On your feet once more, you ran to meet all the losers. Clambering through the hole once more, you used the time to think of a plan.

“We n-n-need to bring IT d-down to size. If w-w-we can lure IT in, IT’ll h-h-h-have to shrink to f-fit through that h-h-h-hole.” You muttered, mainly to yourself, as you contemplated your options.

“That just might work,” Bill announced, bringing you out of your daze. “But I don’t think we have to lure IT out here…”

Bill had a plan.

Crawling through another entrance, you mentally cursed yourself for coming back to this hellhole. Bill stood before the clown, who loomed over you all. 

“You’re just a clown.”

Physical pain flashed across IT’s face. 

“A clown!”

“You’re a sloppy bitch!”

“You’re nothing!”

The clown’s spider legs weakened, collapsing slightly. The insults continued being thrown, and IT continuously grew weaker. As IT staggered backwards into the centre spikes, IT grabbed the smallest loser, pulling her towards itself.

You fought against IT’s arm, yet somehow still found yourself powerless. Even now, IT was too strong for you.

“Put me d-down. You’re just a clown. Just a motherf-f-fucking clown!” 

With a final punch to the clown’s stupid red nose, IT let you go, deflating into an ugly baby-looking creature. You ran to Richie and Eddie, the pair making another protective barrier around you.

You all moved towards IT, and Beverly kneeled down beside IT. IT’s expression was pure fear. 

The beautiful irony of it all.

She reached into IT, yanking out a rotten, yet beating heart. Each loser placed a hand on the heart, and IT seemed to be begging for mercy. For forgiveness.

You all squeezed the heart, crushing it and watching the life drain from the monster that had tormented Derry for millions of years.

IT had been defeated for good.

***   

Driving away from Derry was therapeutic. It was a breath of fresh air. For the first time in far too long, you felt safe.

On your way out, Richie pulled over on the bridge and got out. Walking over to the wooden rails, you followed behind him, not noticing the other car pulling up too. Richie traced a pair of letters on the wood.

“R + E.” You murmured, much louder than intended. Your dad spun around, catching you just in time to make the connection. His eyes drifted behind you, to the man standing beside his car.

“It was a-a-always you and E-Eddie, huh?” 

You kneeled beside him, hugging him tightly. You knew how long it took your dad to accept who he was, so seeing him recarving the faded ‘E’ into the wood, with ‘E’ standing not so far behind meant the world to you.

“Can you just go kiss h-him, for god’s s-s-sake?” You whispered into his side, making him laugh.

“I just might, so you better close your eyes.” He covered your eyes with his hands, making you laugh loudly.

“And miss s-s-seeing my dad happier than e-ever? I could never.” 

His smile held so much love and appreciation for the beautiful girl he had raised that people all across the USA could feel it.

***

“Dad! These are our s-seats.”

Your dad followed behind, making sure you were reading the right part of the tickets.

“Yep, these are them.”

You sat down first, leg bouncing in anticipation. You had wanted to see this live for years and finally, you could get into the show, with adult supervision.

“It s-starts in three m-minutes!”

If it weren’t for the sheer fanciness of this building, you’d be bouncing off the walls in excitement.

Three minutes passed quickly, and the announcement was made that the show was starting. You stared at the stage, a huge smile on your face.

He walked out on stage, and the applause was thunderous, but you knew you were the loudest.

“Yknow, my husband is a bitch and I love him so much.”

Looking at Eddie’s jokingly hurt expression, you burst out laughing, harder than you ever had in your life.

***

It was around 2 am when you all paraded back home. It had been a long, carefree night, only made better by the pure joy radiating off everyone in your family. Eddie fumbled for the house keys, eventually unlocking the door, only to be knocked down by their surprisingly strong Pomeranian, Stanley.

A minute after you walked inside and kicked off your shoes, you passed out on the couch. Stanley curled up beside you, licking your face.

Eddie and Richie shared similar expressions as they gazed at the adorable sight. Not once had either of them believed their lives would come to this.

Richie Tozier never believed he’d be a world-famous comedian, married to his best friend that he’d been in love with since childhood, with the most amazing daughter anyone could ask for.

Eddie Kaspbrak never thought he’d escape his never-ending cycle of letting an emotionally abusive woman control his life, marry the man of his dreams and have a daughter.

Y/N Tozier-Kaspbrak truly believed that no other kid was as lucky as her. No other kid had a perfect, unbreakable pair of parents like she did.

No other family was as beautifully perfect as the Tozier-Kaspbrak family.

Not even close.

***

@peteporkers @unamused-fangirl

[19tozier]

alone together (mike hanlon)

warnings: swearing, allusions to sexual content, takes place before events of chp. 2, there’s room for a part 2 if anyone wants it!

inspired by the song alone together by fall out boy

[losers&reader are adults in this]

if you weren’t in such a predicament, you think you’d be able to laugh at your situation.

as it is though, you’re so angry the edges of your vision bleed a little red and there’s white static where your thoughts should be and you are absolutely going to kill your best friend.

maybe it’s not really her fault, but you sure as hell aren’t about to take the blame for this one, so it’s easier to point your fury to someone else. especially since she isn’t exactly here to defend herself.

you sigh to yourself, stabbing at your phone in an attempt to get it to work. you’re in the backseat of a shitty taxi, trying to connect to some signal to see if you can book a hotel since you apparently are on your way to the wrong derry.

really, how many tiny cities in the northeast united states are named derry? apparently a lot, you’ve figured out, since you’re not currently on your way to derry, pennsylvania, but rather derry, maine.

you sigh again, giving up with your phone. it’s not connecting at all. you’ll just have to find a hotel when you get there.

it’s ridiculous, truly. when your best friend had asked you to be her maid of honor, you were absolutely ready for all it entailed. you’ve been writing your speech since the moment she asked you, you’ve already helped her pick out her dress and everything, and you’d planned her bridal shower accordingly. when she’d said she wanted to take you on a trip back to her tiny hometown, where the wedding was going to be, you’d jumped on it.

in hindsight, you know she’s never mentioned being from maine, but you also don’t remember her mentioning pennsylvania either.

either way, now you’re coasting into the tiny, desolate town of derry, maine, stuck here until your flight tomorrow evening. your friend had just laughed at you hysterically when you’d figured it out and had promised to pick you up from the airport when you got in.

you sigh again, watching the little town go through the window. you have no idea where to go or what to do, since you can’t get your phone to work enough to look for hotels, and this place seems too small to really have something to choose from. nevertheless, the taxi makes a couple more turns before it comes to a stop outside of what looks like an old inn.

you pay him quickly, grabbing your bags and marching on into the townhouse. all you need is one room, even the tiniest they have, and you’re golden.

there’s no one around except for the little old woman behind the counter. she barely looks up at you when you hurry over, continuing whatever it is she’s doing as she tells you, “we’re fully booked.”

you pause in your tracks, your blood running cold. “what?” you say, incredulous. this tiny town that doesn’t even really need an inn is fully booked? that’s not possible.

the old woman still doesn’t look up at you. “we’re fully booked,” she repeats, the words harder now.

you want to argue, the anger simmering back through your veins, but truthfully you’re exhausted and feel on the verge of tears. you don’t think you could talk without crying, so you just nod once, grabbing your suitcase and walking back out into the cool evening air.

there’s not much around you, truth be told. you’re in what you think must be the heart of the town but even that is only a diner and a few other buildings. a handful of people meander through the streets but you feel profoundly alone.

you really don’t know what to do. you can’t get a room here in derry, and you could absolutely go back into the city and get a room near the airport but your phone still isn’t working enough to call another taxi or try to book a hotel room. unless you can find a place to call one, you’re stuck.

just as you think that, your eyes land on the library across from you.

it’s a safe bet, you figure, starting your walk over to it. you cross your fingers that it’s open. public libraries usually have phones, and if not they’ll have maps, right? or at least a working knowledge of any place you might be able to stay.

the place is quiet when you walk in, the door thankfully unlocked. you know that’s normal for libraries but it feels even more than that, like a blanket of silence has enveloped the building. it should make something inside of you shiver but it helps calm you down, especially once you figure out that there’s no one around even here.

it’s concerning, because you’re exhausted and hungry and you really just want to lay down but you can’t. at least it’s warm and comfy in here, you think, tentatively walking further in, your suitcase rolling along behind you.

the library is big and open, rows upon rows of old books spread throughout the big space. the windows show the rapidly darkening sky, the sun well on its way to going down, and the library is washed through with a dark golden light.

footsteps sound from behind you and you whirl around, suddenly terrified. you thought you were alone but you were obviously mistaken because a man is walking down from the stairs you hadn’t noticed, and your knees are suddenly weak because he is absolutely the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. he looks up when he hears your gasp, his own eyes widening. his face is warm and gentle and the smile that melts across it makes you feel at home.

“hello,” he says, his voice deep and soothing. his eyes fall to the suitcase at your side and his expression goes sympathetic. “the townhouse full, then?” he doesn’t seem surprised; this must happen a lot.

you swallow, tearing your gaze from the long lines of his shoulders and legs, nodding. your tongue feels thick in your mouth but you manage to get out, “i didn’t know where else to go.”

it comes out more raw than you wanted it to. it makes your throat tight with tears again, the reminder that you’re stranded with no place to stay, but you can’t focus on it because the man smiles again, as bright and beautiful as the sun.

“that’s alright, i’m glad you came here.” his smile shifts into something softer, more intimate, and a shudder goes down your spine. “i’m mike. i’m the librarian here.”

you offer your hand to him to shake, barely restraining your swoon when he does. his grip is sure but gentle, his hands big and warm and rough in the way you know means he’s a working man, and you ache to feel those hands elsewhere. “i’m (y/n).”

mike grins. “what brings you to derry, (y/n)?” he asks, his hand still holding onto yours. fire spreads over your skin from the contact. “not many people come here unless they have to.”

you blow out a sigh, shaking your head with a rueful grin. “i may have not realized my friend lived in derry, pennsylvania and just went for the first derry i could find,” you admit. you can take the blame a little better now with this beautiful man in front of you.

you didn’t think it was particularly funny but he throws his head back and laughs out loud, bright and sharp and gorgeous, and you decide that you’d do anything to make him laugh like that again. his eyes scrunch closed and his handsome face transforms in his happiness, so beautiful you almost can’t look at him.

“that’s unfortunate,” he agrees through his chuckles. “how many other derry’s can there really be?”

you scowl, doing your best to put on an act. you want him to laugh again. “apparently way too fucking many.”

it works exactly how you wanted it to; he laughs even harder, nearly bending over with the force of it. his hand shakes in yours and you just hold onto it tighter. you aren’t completely convinced that he’s real but you’ll be damned before you let him go.

eventually, his laugh peters out, leaving him grinning and holding your hand. he doesn’t comment on or react to the latter thing, just lets his eyes flick to the bag still at your side. something unreadable passes over his expression before it settles back into that soft look.

“this might be forward,” he says, and his thumb strokes over the back of your hand. your body lights up. “but maybe you could stay here? i live upstairs actually, and there’s enough room for you. you don’t have to if you don’t—“

“yes!” you almost yell, surprising even yourself with your volume. you struggle to get it back under control, trying to keep your composure as much as you can. “i mean, i’d like that.” you pause, your cheeks flushing, before you shyly murmur, “thank you, mike.”

his own cheeks tinge pink, the slant of his eyes bashful and pleased. he nods, tugging you with the grip he still has on your hand to the stairs he’d come down earlier. you grab your suitcase and happily follow.

the upstairs isn’t as open as the actual library. you can see it’s more of a converted attic than anything else, but there’s a refrigerator and basic kitchen utensils, a desk haphazardly covered in books and old-looking papers, and there’s a big, soft looking bed pushed into one corner. sure, there are boxes everywhere too, but it feels homey enough that whatever tension you were still feeling melts away. it feels like mike.

the sun has completely set by now, the only light coming from the lamp on the desk. it pools around mike’s face in a way that almost forms a halo, his features in sharp relief to his soft smile. you want nothing more than to tackle him onto the bed, but he clears his throat and drops your hand before you can. you miss his touch like a phantom limb.

“i know you probably have clothes with you,” he says, nodding at your suitcase, “but i have shirts if you want them? some shorts maybe? i just—“ he rubs the back of his neck, that pretty flush stealing over his cheeks again. “it might be more comfortable.”

it makes something inside of you warm. this gorgeous man, however much of a stranger he is, is trying so hard to make you comfortable. you don’t think you’re imagining the way he looks at you, nevermind how he held your hand, and so you decide to go for it.

you step forward, putting your hand on his chest and looking up at him through your lashes. he audibly swallows. “i’d like that,” you all but purr.

mike almost stumbles with how quickly he tries to get clothing for you, something that you’re hopelessly endeared by. you catch the t-shirt he throws to you but ignore the shorts that come with it. hopefully, you won’t need them.

when you turn around after you’ve changed, the hem of his shirt falling to your thighs, you’re surprised and a little in love to see he’s deliberately turned away, giving you privacy to change. you wanted to draw this out, maybe learn a little bit more about him, but now you’re completely overcome by the need to kiss him.

he must hear your footsteps because he says, without turning, “you can take the bed if you want, i’ll sleep—“ but you don’t let him finish, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around to kiss him as hard as you can.

he makes a noise against your mouth, caught off guard, before his arms wrap around your waist. he pulls you in against his chest, kissing you so deep you feel lightheaded. this close, he smells like some spicy cologne that is doing wonders for you, and his lips are both soft and firm against your own. you never want to stop kissing him.

“i think the bed is big enough for both of us,” you mumble against his mouth, licking against the back of his teeth.

mike growls deep in his throat, kissing you even harder. he curses when his hands sweep down your sides and discover you aren’t wearing the shorts, just your lacy underwear under his big t-shirt. you inwardly smirk to yourself.

he pulls away, his eyes dark and his chest heaving. you barely restrain a whimper at the sight. “i’m really glad you went to the wrong derry,” he murmurs, letting his lips trail down your jaw and neck. you shudder, gasping, clutching at his shoulders. you let yourself be walked backwards to the bed. you’ve barely bounced onto it before his weight is on top of you, comforting and delicious and exactly what you want.

your friend isn’t going to believe this, you think as his hand slips up under your shirt and his lips press to your neck. you’re going to have to send her a fruit basket for this golden opportunity.

you are so glad you went to the wrong derry.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Hawkins’ Charm (Part 9)

Synopsys: They had gotten out of Hawkins. After all the shit that had happened, all the heartache and pain, Billy and the Reader had gotten away from that hellhole, building their life in California as he had dreamed. But when Max’s graduation rolls around and they go to celebrate, it’s as if the Upside Down was just waiting for all of them to return. And it has a bone to pick.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x f!Reader; platonic!Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Genre: angst, bit of fluff

Warnings: blood, mentions of injuries and death, fighting, swearing, mentions of smut, but not full-on

Word count: 2120 (I’m sorry if there are any mistakes :D )

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE BILLY’S ACTIONS AND THE THINGS HE’S DONE! THIS IS BASICALLY AN AU, WHEN REALLY LOOKING AT IT! SPOILERS FOR S3! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!

Italics are flashbacks

“Billy, stop!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, throat burning with every uttered syllable, but no sound came out. When Y/N had come to and seen the bruises he’d left around her neck, she had almost passed out again, but had to remind herself – this was not Billy, this wasn’t her caring sometimes hot-headed boyfriend that had wrapped his palms around her neck and tried to squeeze the life out of her. This was a monster using him as a servant to do its bidding. 

           For a second, their eyes met as she stood at the other side of the mall, the Mind Flayer’s attention on El who laid on the ground before it. And there it was – recognition in Billy's eyes. If only for a moment, he remembered who she was, who he was to her.

           As quickly as that had happened, it was gone, and Billy turned around grabbing a screaming El who had woken up and skidded away by her ankle and dragging her towards the monster. No, Y/N thought to herself, that’s not gonna happen, and rushed to the side where a discarded shotgun laid on the ground. She checked its ammo, loaded and aimed. 

***

           “You,” Y/N pointed at Hopper as they jumped out of the van, “stay in the car and stay low. We don’t need someone to see your face and freak and call the cops.”

           “I am the cops,” he grunted but slid lower onto the seat, masking his face with a baseball cap.

           “No,” El butted in, “keyword – were. You’re technically still dead. At least as far as Hawkins is concerned. And the rest of the world.”

           Like a child, Hop grunted our a ‘whatever’ and watched as the group entered the store, the little ‘DING!’ ringing sharply through the air. “Stay low my ass,” he muttered and slid down the chair to vanish from view.

*

           Y/N tapped her foot against the tiled floor, and each little movement of the muscles tightened the feeling in her back where the salve had seeped into her skin and had lost the cooling effect, making her grit her teeth to keep the whimpers of pain at bay.

           Each beep as the items were scanned amped up her anxiety, and she started chewing on the tip on her thumb which Steve promptly slapped away from her mouth.

           “If your boy sees you without a finger, it’ll be my head he’ll come after,” he grumbled and crossed his arms mimicking Y/N’s stance and tapped his foot at the same time.

           “Oh please,” she rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you two already gone through your dick-measuring phase?”

           “When are boys ever?” Robin snarked from where she stood behind Y/N, and the two fist-bumped at that.

           “Hey, don’t I know you?” the clerk squinted his eyes at Y/N with a pointed finger in her direction. “Aren’t you that chick that ran off with Hargrove?”

           “If by that chick that ran off with Hargrove you mean his girlfriend throughout the senior year and decided to move to California with him then yeah, I guess so.” She was really over all of the judgement from others.

           Her mom hadn’t been too pleased when she’d announced that she’d be going to San Diego with Billy. Especially given how Y/N had planned on returning to New York and going to NYU at the start of the last semester. 

           Sure, it hadn’t been the most pleasant of stays, but the Big Apple had grown on her. She’d found some peace and had been able to collect her mind after everything Hawkins had put her through. That is until the tanned Cali boy slammed his way into her world.

           He completely shook everything up, from what Y/N wanted in life to what she thought she deserved. There’d been a tremendous amount of guilt that plagued her heart since Barb, and once returning to Hawkins it got bad again. 

           She hadn’t been there to help and look for her, she hadn’t stayed and brought justice to one of her best friends, instead, she'd opted to run away. Y/N felt like she’d been selfish and a horrible person. Until Billy helped her understand it wasn’t her fault. And he made sure she knew it.

           “You couldn’t have done anything,” he’d muttered in her hair one night after the boy had climbed through his window seeking solace from his dad, only to find Y/N dry heaving over her toilet seat. “Fuck, sweetheart, it wasn’t your fault, you gotta understand.”

He hadn’t known the real circumstances then, but it didn’t matter 'cause the words hit their mark either way. “That fucking lab and those people were a messed-up bunch, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to take care of yourself.”

           Y/N had shaken her head. “I-I should’ve stayed. I should’ve helped Nance and Steve. I-I sh-should’ve fought for her.”

           A hand wove into her hair and made her rest her cheek against his chest. “How can you fight for someone else when you can’t even fight for yourself?”

           “So, what do you need all this stuff for?” the cashier asked taking Y/N out from her thoughts and making small talk while scanning the copious amounts of rope and batteries. “Infiltrating the CIA?” Oh, if only he knew how close he was.

           “Going on a camping trip,” Y/N gave him a tight-lipped smile. They seriously didn’t have time for this shit.

           He pulled up the two barrels of gasoline and shrugged. “Must be some trip if you need all this stuff.”

           “You never know,” Robin said curtly hoping he’d just hurry up, “maybe a bear blocks our way back to civilization, and we have to fight it off.”

           “With what? Ropes and walkie talkies?”

           “Exactly,” she gave him a sarcastic smile, and he finally rung up the total.

***

           Billy couldn’t breathe. He felt like his lungs had collapsed and a boulder sat on his chest, pressing down on him. His vision swam, bright lights merging in a sickening dance turning his head dizzy.

           Pain. That’s all he felt. But maybe that’s what he deserved. He’d been an asshole, a major one at that. Maybe this was his way of repenting. Spending his last moments alive in unbearable agony for all the hurt he’d caused while he was alive. Especially to those he loved. 

           His eyes dripped close, but then two hands planted themselves on his shoulders.

           “Max,” he gurgled out, pain shooting through his body right down to the very tips of his toes.

           “Hold on,” the redhead sobbed. Fuck, is she crying? Over me? “Don’t you dare die on me, or I swear I’ll dig up your grave, zap you back to life and skin you alive.”

           “ ‘M sorry,” he choked. “ ‘M sorry.”

           And he knew he was gone when an angel came into view. A beautiful gorgeous angel.

           “Billy,” she called his name. “Billy, please.”

           Fuck, she sounded so much like Y/N. His Y/N. A small smile came over his face. Maybe death wasn’t that bad when it took the form of the only person that had every truly, really loved him. Not even his mom had loved him as much as his girl did. 

           Sure, he missed her like crazy every day of his damned life, but she had left him with that bastard that was nothing more than a sperm donor to him. A little kid on his own to live with a monster. Billy wasn’t afraid of the dark or what hid in it. He was afraid of the person in the next room with a beer bottle in his hand.

           But Y/N… he’d been so shitty to her in the beginning, to her friends. But somehow, she saw through it, saw through the tall and dense walls he’d built around himself and had fallen for the man hiding inside the fortress. 

           “Billy, stay with me,” the angled pleaded. Of course, he would. He could never say no to her.

***

           Once they got to Joyce’s, they split up in groups, Billy taking his sister, Mike and Nancy back to their places while Joyce stayed with Will, and Johnathan took Dustin and Lucas back to theirs.

           “Have you talked with Lucas?” Billy looked over to Max and saw her visibly shrink. She folded her arms and slid down the seat a bit more as if trying to minimize her existence, and it worked as even sitting down he towered over her like a tree

           “About what?”

           “You know what,” he gave her pointed look before returning his gaze back to the road.

           For a moment, silence settled between them, but then Max sighed and groaned out “No. In fact, I actually tried to do that before everything with Y/N went down, but he just waved me off. Said it wasn’t a big deal.”

           Max’s ginger eyebrows were pulled together in a frown of hurt and confusion. “And I know I haven’t been the most understanding and was giving him the silent treatment, but I just… I don’t know what to do… I don’t know how to make it better.”

           Billy sighed, looking at how the trees zoomed past them on both sides before carefully replying. “You love him, don’t you?”

           “Yeah,” she said throwing her head back against the seat surprising him with her blatant honesty. “I mean we’ve been together, on and off, since like being thirteen… kinda hard not to.”

           As Neil’s house slowly started to come in view, Max asked him to stop on the curb.

           “Drop me off here. I’ll just sneak around the house and climb in through the window,” she said and turned to look at Billy grimacing. “Neil doesn’t really let me stay over if there are boys around.” She let out a sneer. 

           Her brother just shook his head and smirked ruffling her head. “You’re trouble, you know that, Maxine?”

           A scoff got stuck in her throat. “Me? Have you met yourself? You snuck out so many times during your senior year just to go to Y/N’s, I’m surprised Neil didn’t pick up on your routine and put bars on your windows.”

           Billy sorted. “If he’d even tried, I would’ve found a way to get to her.”

           “Sentimental asshole,” she rolled her eyes, but he could see that there was nothing malicious behind the gesture. “See you in a few hours.”

           “Stay safe,” he said, and Max nodded, quickly leaning over and pulling Billy in a tight hug. “Everything’s gonna work out. With Lucas, this whole shitshow. I promise.”

           “Do you think Y/N's gonna be okay?” Max mumbled in his ear and opened the door, her muddied up sneakers getting even dirtier.

           "She's the strongest person I know. She'll be just fine,” he looked to his lap and his heart clenched. She was, without a question, but that didn’t make him feel any less worried. Rather it terrified him to the core because who knows what situations awaited them. Billy wasn’t ready to let go of his life just yet, and he knew she'd do anything for those she loved. 

           His knuckles tightened around the wheel.

They’d make it out. No matter what. Or he’d burn everything in its wake. 

***

           A miracle the doctors had said. Not only that vital organs hadn’t been punctured, but that the chemicals Billy had downed a week ago hadn’t fully burned his insides apart. When Y/N heard this from the nurse, she had to rush away from her boyfriend’s side by the bed into the attached bathroom and throw up.

           Her throat burned like ten thousand hot pokers were being pushed down it. Her hands shook as she opened up the faucet and splashed ice-cold water against her face. Y/E/C eyes looked up to see the blue-black bruises littering her neck, Billy’s two handprints like tattoos against her skin. 

           No, she shook her head, not his, but that monster’s that used him as a puppet. Her Billy would never hurt her. 

           “Is he gonna recover?” Y/N asked glancing at the nurse when she reentered the room assuming her previous position. He was the same nurse that had looked at her neck and she had blatantly disobeyed his pleas for her to rest. She had to be with Billy.

           “Physically, yes… Psychologically is a different kind of story,” the nurse said. “But the doctor thinks he’s gonna be just fine. He’ll need a lot of help, but we're optimistic."

           Y/N nodded looking away from the nurse and back to her boyfriend. With shaky fingers, she took ahold of his palm and brought his fingers to her lips. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. I’ll be here for you… We’re gonna be just fine… we’ll make it…”

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A/N: soooo.... it’s been a while.... a lot of things have happened and continue happening, but I hope you can forgive me for posting an update so late. Life just gets hectic and I do this for fun, so when pressing matters come up, I have to focus on them :D

I’ve started my last year of uni and I’m shitting bricks, but other than that I’m immensely enjoying everything I'm doing, mum’s visiting me next week, so that’s a plus, but also my first assignment is in less than two weeks, so yay me! :D

P.S. my tags are always open :)

[stellar-alley]

•The One With The Monster•

Hey guys! Just a little warning before this chapter starts, I will be touching on religion, but it is in no way accurate and I am not trying to offend anyone in any way. This is all simply for the story, so if I say anything please do not take offence.

Also: This story is based on the song Monster by Dodie, so if you'd like to listen to it while reading then it can help set the mood.

Enjoy!

~

"So what are we going to do with him?" The arc angel glances over at his associate.

"Well, I suppose we could always assign him to an unsolvable case, someone who can not be saved. That way he will stay on earth forever" The lower level angel suggested.

"We could always assign him to-" The arc angel tapped a name the list he held with his index finger.

"Hm... Good choice. A demon he's bound to fall in love with, he will be gone within a decade. Clever" She smirked at him.

"Would you like for me to inform him? Or shall I?" He asked as she shook her head.

"Oh no don't you worry, I will tell the boy about his new and permanent position"

(Basically, our little angel was just assigned a case to a demon where he'd inevitably fall in love and die, all because they couldn't accept that he was gay)

~

Tell me again about how it hurts

"Okay... Eddie please, just tell me again how much it hurts" Richie leaned forward to cup Eddie's face with his hand. The shorter boy pushed him away. Suddenly Eddie was up and of the bed, pulling at the ends of his hair as pain flashed through his eyes.

"I-It feels like someone stabbed me in the back with a needle and I can feel the fucking venom spread through my system. Like roots of a fucking weed growing" He hissed.

Shit... This is what I was worried about

Being awfully loud for an introvert

There was a moment where Richie didn't speak, he just let Eddie rage.

Eddie sat down on the edge of the bed, practically hugging himself, with blank eyes and an emotionless face, "God, I can feel it seeping into my blood" he sighed. "Rich... Baby, what's happening to me?" Eddie's fear-filled voice cracked as his eyes grew watery.

Richie couldn't even meet his gaze as he muttered a guilt-filled, "E-Eddie... I'm so, so sorry".

Eddie's brow scrunches together, he tilted his head like a confused puppy. "Richie... what did you do?".

~

Richie moved out of his family's house at the young age of 22. His parents were very reluctant to let him live on his own, worried that he'd somehow spill the family secret, start the next set of witch trials or something. He was a demon after all. He loved Maggie and Wentworth with his entire heart, but as Panic At The Disco once said, if you love me let me go.

He wasn't a monster, neither were his parents. They were just two angels in love who made a wrong choice, so of course, they were thrown down to earth, banished. And heaven forbid there be any angels on earth that aren't guarding a human, so Maggie and Wentworth there stripped of their white angelic feathers and gifted new ones, darker ones.

Still, they were just as magical, just as magnificent. Long and elegant,  they shimmered like the dark night sky. Their wings only came out when they wanted them to, unfurling like a red carpet being rolled out, it was one of the best feelings in the world to Richie. But if not then they just kinda went poof, disappearing. Although they would have to let their wings out at least once a week or else they'd wake up with major back pains. Sometimes Richie would even do it subconsciously in his sleep, he'd wake up from a nightmare and he'd just be curled up in his own dark wings. It was oddly comforting. When they went full dark angel, they had the wings as well as small black horns that would peak out through Richie's equally as dark curls. There were also dark eyes and sharp fangs.

There were other things that came with being a demon. They had magical powers, to a certain extent, they could make things happen, some call it miracles. Oh and also if they were to lash out and lose control, one would be able to see their pointy fangs and blood-red eyes. Richie had always been in love with his demon eyes. Their normal brown colour turned to a deep red, and the rest of the whites in his eyes turned black, making him look like a total satanic worshiper. Which they weren't by the way just cause they were demons didn't mean they had to worship the dark lord.

His place was magnificent, to say the least. It was a one-bedroom apartment with a kitchen and living room and just enough space for an office corner. But he made it work. He was only one person after all. He tried to keep everything organized, only half failing, which had surprised even himself. The apartment wasn't messy, he kept the dirty clothes in the hamper and the trash in the bin. Although he did always have a couple of dirty dishes in the sink and way too many papers on his desk, but he didn't mind.

Everything changed about two months after he moved in. He was sitting at his desk, some chill music on the in the background (Fly by Bloodwich to be precise. Recommended by Stan) when he heard something smash and fall from outside in the hallway. Richie waited a moment before he decided to go make sure no one was like... bleeding out on the floor.

Stepping out into the hallway that connected all the apartments, he noticed another male figure. Richie couldn't make out his features as he was crouching down on the floor in front of his door, back towards Richie. The guy had dropped a vase, pieces of porcelain scattered across the floor.

"Shit shit shit! Mom's gonna kill me!" The guy whispered, he frantically tried to collect all the pieces.

Richie knew he could help, alongside his miracle abilities, he also had a little bit of mind control. And he couldn't bear to hear this guy whimper about this damn vase any longer. He was going to command the guy to back away and he'd miracle the vase back to its original state, then just clean up the boy's memories a little before letting him go, so he wouldn't question the now fixed vase.

Before he gave the command he allowed his eyes to roll back into his head, they reverted back into their demonic state as he commanded, "Stop". Richie's voice stern and deep, it always got that way when he commanded someone to do something.

The boy froze.

"What?" He suddenly jumped up from his position on the floor. Richie wiped his eyes away, they changed back to their normal brown just as his eyes met the eyes of the other boy's. For a moment he could've sworn that the other's eyes were blue, but not like, blue but blue. A blue that could give the sky and sea a run for their money, a blue that'd make someone have to shield their eyes cause it was so bright. But he blinked just as Richie tried to focus on their colour, and suddenly they were brown, just brown.

"Sorry... I uh... Thought you were my neighbour, they party a lot and I always tell them to shut the fuck up" Richie told a terrible lie. No one on his floor partied, they were the Losers floor after all. He knew how weird he sounded so he quickly kept going, he tried to get rid of the awkward tension. "Sorry about the vase" Richie rubbed anxiously at his neck.

"W-What vase?" The guy asked with a lifted eyebrow.

"The one that broke..." His voice drifted off when he looked over and saw the vase that sat perfectly on the ground beside the other boy's feet. "oh" was all he could say at that moment.

Good going trashmouth. What the fuck just happened?

"I'm Eddie," The guy, who is apparently Eddie, said, forcing the awkwardness away. He stuck out his hand for Richie to shake.

"The name is Tozier, Richie Tozier" He replied and shook Eddie's hand. "Moving in I see?" He motioned to the boxes that line the hallway.

Eddie's eyes went wide for a moment, maybe a moment too long before let out a laugh mixed sigh, "Yeah, this is me" he pointed to the door right across from Richie, the sight caused the trashmouth to smile a little bit more at the thought of having a cute neighbour.

Now that Eddie was no longer crouched on the ground he was finally able to get a good look at him. Eddie was a petite guy, for sure a couple inches shorter then Richie and had a smaller build as well. He had a head of neat chocolate brown hair that flopped into his eyes, which he constantly swatted away, Richie found it adorable. He wore a pastel blood hoodie and black skinny jeans and some nameless runners.

"Welcome to the Losers floor" He said with a wink.

"The what?" Eddie asked.

"The Losers floor, that's our name. You've got me, Richard Trashmouth Tozier, the leader of course" He nods, "Beverly Marsh, the badass" Richie points to the apartment beside his own. "Benjamin Hanscom, the nerd" He points to the farthest room, the one after Bev's. "Mike the animal lover, he has a cat, but don't tell the landlord" Richie smirked, he gestured to the room across from Ben's. "And then there's Bill and Stanley. God, I don't know how they fit two people in that fucking apartment, let alone a god damn bird".

Eddie's eyes went wide at the statement, "A bird?".

"Yeah, Staniel loves them. I think her name is like Alley or something" Both of the boys turn to the camera like it's the office.

He leaned casually against the doorframe to his apartment, "Need a hand with the boxes, Edwardo?" Richie asked.

Eddie had to resist the urge to shoot the nickname down and deny his offer, but he knew that be seeing more of Richie in his life. Eddie was his guardian angel after all (;

~

Eddie was an angel, well he was pretty sure he still was. Eddie always had an enteral battle going on inside of him. They fought over what was right if he should be listening to his lord and saviour or to his heart. He repressed his feelings for centuries, but love always won. Coming out was something. (I don't feel comfortable going into details). But everyone seemed okay with it, sure some hated the idea but everyone liked Eddie. And as luck would have it, a week later he got his first official Guardian placement, Richard Tozier. They'd given him everything he needed, a book full of fake memories and a storyline to follow, it was all set, well... kinda. They basically just gave him the job, no further explanation on why Richie needed to be guarded or anything at all for that matter. They just told him he had 3 days to prepare before being shipped out.

Living on earth was something. But the guys above gave him some books and tips to keep his heavenly side a secret.

Don't fly in the city, don't use your powers unless necessary,  and never, ever tell your person about your secret.

All they said was don't fly in the city, they never told him he couldn't just sit in his apartment with his blinds drawn and his wings out, so that's what he did most nights. He had specific shirts and hoodies with little slits in the back so his wings could come and go with ease. Sometimes he'd just opt to sit shirtless on his couch while watching Will and Grace reruns.

With no knowledge of what he needed to guard Richie against, Eddie simply chose to be the friendly neighbour that was always there to help. But then he realized how dreadfully annoying Richie can be, and then their iconic banter began. But during all of their arguments and bickering, a spark was lit. The two went from friendly neighbours to each other best friends. They'd developed countless traditions that were carried out throughout the week, Taco Tuesday, well that was just the day they went to eat at Burrito Gringo. There were also Sunday laundry nights, where they'd spend countless hours in the creepy basement laundry room laughing their asses off about some random ass shit since anything was hilarious after 1 am. Although on Mondays, both of the boys always seemed to be oddly busy. Maybe it's because these are the days when they both hiked to different parts of the city, heading deep into the forest, away from civilization before letting their wings out and taking flight.

Around the one-year anniversary of Eddie moving in, Richie had no doubt in his mind about 2 things. 1) That he was head over heels for Eddie fucking Kasbrak, and 2) that said Eddie fucking Kaspbrak was also an angel. How did he know this? Well, the first day the two met, Eddie literally miracle-d the vase with shiny blue eyes. These eyes were not only a one-time occurrence, sometimes when Eddie laughed a little too hard, the times he got a little bit too embarrassed, or when he sneezed too hard, or if Richie's touch lingered a little bit too long on Eddie's body, they'd appear. Even though it was always only for a moment, blink and you'll miss them, Richie always noticed. And one day when Richie was walking home from the radio station he may or may not have noticed that he could see perfectly into Eddie's apartment. From there, he watched the short boy grow angelic wings from his fucking back. So, yeah Richie kinda knew Eddie was an angel.

He never brought it up, for various reasons. Richie knew a lot about demons but he also knew his fair share about angels, and he knew that if word got out to the people above about someone knowing Eddie's secret, he'd be in deep shit.

Even though the trashmouth knew what he saw, he could practically feel the angelic powers pour out of his little angel, but he didn't want to face the facts. He didn't want to believe that the boy he loved was an angel. They could probably be together, to hell with the sides! They'd make it work... But then came the inevitable, the biggest thing that stood in their way. Something everybody knew.

An angel and a demon could never share a kiss. It was a curse put upon the first angel and demon who fell in love, all those years ago. The curse states that when the two opposing creatures kiss, the being of light will lose their spark, it will go dark, they will go dark. Basically it means that Richie was to kiss Eddie, Eddie would lose his wings, and he'd turn into the same beast that Richie was. Or even worse, Eddie could die, if he wasn't able to survive the turn.

So Richie suppressed everything, his thoughts, his ideas, his feelings. Anything that could lead to having a crush on Eddie was shoved into a box and stuffed into his metaphorical closet. He wouldn't allow himself to be the reasoning behind Eddie's banishment, he couldn't... Richie wouldn't be able to live with himself if he knew that he was the reason his little angel was turned dark. So he made a vow to never kiss Eddie.

So Eddie kissed Richie instead.

~

It had been officially one year and one month since Eddie moved in across the hall from Richie, and it has been exactly one month since the two started dating. Richie was the first one to make a move, he was reluctant since he couldn't kiss Eddie, but he could see the yearning in his angel's eyes and he really just wanted to be happy, to make Eddie happy. That's all he ever wanted.

So he gave in. Eddie confessed his feelings one night after Richie's failed attempt at a tinder date with some asshat named Connor. Eddie spilled his guts out about since the first time he saw Richie in the hallway, he has been living on this high, the feeling that he only got when he was with Richie. And that feeling gave him life. What Richie didn't know was that the life Eddie was feeling was the feeling of finally living. He was doing what he wanted, on his own terms, with the man he loved. That night forward they were officially boyfriends.

Eddie found it kind of odd that they didn't share their first kiss after they both confessed their true feelings. Instead, once Richie finished spilling his guts, he simply wrapped Eddie up in his arms and the two held each other, their hearts beating as one. That night they slept together, no sex, just being wrapped up in each other's arms was enough. And Eddie was okay with that.

~

It was just another morning that the demon and the angel had woken up together. Eddie had woken up first. To no surprise, he found his limps were tangled up with Richie's. But once the demon had woken up, the two sat facing each other in bed for a while. Until Eddie practically jumped on Richie, cupping his face and kissing his lips.

Richie was left in shock. They'd kissed. And it was amazing. There was only a single moment where Richie's mind burst at the thought of their lips touching, but instead, he drowned it out by passionately kissing Eddie back. Eddie had pushed Richie onto his back, playing with his hair as the made out on the bed, that's when Eddie jackknifed off of Richie. That's when he started to turn, and that's where we are now.

~

"Eds, baby I'm so sorry. I should've told you sooner" Eddie snapped his head to face Richie. His angel eyes were showing, and they were blazing like a roaring fire. The flames so burning hot that they turned sky blue.

"What the hell did you do?!" He hissed, anger and confusion laced his voice.

Richie could barely let out a stuttery, "I-I'm..." that's when he let his eyes roll back. With regret he let his demon eyes roll forward, he hoped it would be more than enough of a response.

His blue eyes snapped open wider than ever, "Y-You!" he shrieked. Eddie went to stand and get the fuck out but before he knew it, he'd stumbled over his own feet and landed on the carpeted floor of Richie's bedroom. With the pain that radiated through his body, he felt something, stress relieved from his shoulders, but now there was more weight on them than usual. His wings. Eddie curled up, the pain simply had more space to cover.

Richie slid out of his bed and shuffled over to Eddie. "Please can I just-"

"No, NO! Get away from me" Eddie backed away, "You demon fucker, you did this to me" he hissed. Hastily he got to his feet,  he stumbled out of the room.

Get out of my room, smile wiped clean Isn't it weird to be so mean?

Eddie had sworn Richie out countless times, but nothing stung as badly as the words that just slipped out of his mouth. He couldn't even begin to imagine the pain Eddie was going through. The guys below always described it as the feeling of what it's like to burn in the deep pits of hell. But the least he could do was make sure Eddie didn't have to go through this alone.

He marched into the main area of his apartment where he spotted Eddie had sprawled out over the couch. The demon moved quickly to crouch down beside Eddie. The angel's eyes were in a half-open stat, but once they caught sight of Richie they reverted back to their blue shocked look. But now they were focused on something just above Richie's eyes.

I'm guessing that I've grown horns I guess I'm human no more I can tell I've rotted in your brain

"Oh... Sorry. This happens sometimes" He smirked down at the shorter boy. His hands wandered up to brush up against the small horns that had appeared in his dark curls.

The shorter boy was hugging himself, the pain pounding in his head. "I can't believe you'd do this to me. Turn me... Make me into a monster" Eddie breathed breath after breath, each word filled with a hatred that was new to the both of them, and Richie hated every moment of it.

Oh, how easily passion twists You think I'm a crazy bitch I craft my words to fit your head 'Cause no one listens to the dead

"You think I wanted to do this? Do you think I wanted to turn the fucking love of my life into the same thing that haunts me? The thing that looms over my fucking head every goddamn day of my life? Eddie I always wanted what was best for you, that's why I joke and I play and I never let you in because I didn't want to get close. I didn't want to feel anything for you but I couldn't" Richie's emotions were about to overflow when he realized the amount of stress that sat on his back. So with a roll of his kneck and a stretch of his arms, he allowed his pitch-black demonic wings to magically roll out behind him.

If Eddie's eyes could grow bigger then they already were, then they did. "LIES! That's all your kind does. It's all been lies, and to think I fell in love with a fucking spawn of satan".

The words burned like a slab of meat over an open flame. There was one way that Richie knew he could capture Eddie's attention, grab his attention by the balls and tell him what's what.

So maybe I will talk to you The only way I know how to I've said my speech through sharpened teeth

"Edward mother fucking Kaspbrak. Do you think, that I would spend over a year, lying to my dumbass neighbour just to turn him? 365 days, 8760 hours, 525600 fucking minutes, all so hell could have one more damned demon? Eds, Eddie, light of my life, I never, ever, planned on turning you" Richie's voice was stern and serious. It was something that was new for Eddie. He couldn't help but notice the fact that Richie's teeth had sharpened into fangs, poking out from behind his lips as he spoke. They must have unconsciously lengthed as his emotions grew stronger.

Although he wasn't focused on Richie's new way of talking. He was focused on the words, the phrase he just said. Light of my life. A direct quote from The Shinning, the same words Jack Torrance told his wife Wendy during the climax of the movie. It was their safe word, the phrase they said when something was happening when they needed help, when they needed each other. If something was happening and the other needed help, no questions asked. Suddenly everything became so much more serious to Eddie.

Eddie curled deeper in on himself, with closed eyes, and a weal voice, he wept, "Then why am I dying".

Richie's dark heart broke at the sight of his boyfriend who crumbled before him. "oh... Spaghetti" He muttered, collapsing beside him, throwing his arms around the angel. "I-I'm gonna figure this out".

With that declaration, the two stayed like that for a while, Eddie curled on the couch with his wings behind him with Richie's arms wrapped around him. Their foreheads pressed against each other's. Richie's wings even lowered down and wrapped around the angel. When the dark wings touched the lighter ones, it was like the first time their hands brushed up against each other. It sent a shiver up both of their spines.

Eddie's body had almost grown used to the pain, it was numbing, his body ached, but the feeling of Richie's touch made everything just a little bit better. As much as Eddie wanted to be mad about this, it was Richie's fault, deep down Eddie knew his boyfriend didn't mean it.

The angel felt the demonic presence that cuddled against him shift and move, followed by the all too familiar 'Click' sound of Richie's phone turning on. He tilted his head upwards and saw Richie's head was perched on top of his own while he scrolled through the contacts on his phone. "Seriously rich? Ruining our moment? I'm literally dying you asshole" Eddie's voice had a little less pain and some more confusion mixed in there, and maybe even a little laughter.

The demon's lips turned into a little smirk. He slowly slipped off of the other, "I've got this angel, just give me a moment. Don't die!" He hollered whilst he walked into the other room.

Richie had his parents on speed dial and the phone rang three times before they answered. He cut to the chase and asked what to do if an angel was turning. Of course, Maggie informed him that there's nothing he can do, the change will most likely kill the angel.

Richie's voice came out sounding way too chirpy for the situation he was in, "hmm, no. My angel won't be dying today. So we need another way".

There was a sudden muffled sound, followed by a very quick argument of few words before Wentworth picked up the phone, "Son? yeah, I'll call you if I find anything until then, keep the angel awake and alive. Love you son" and the line went dead.

You break the rules and spikes grow from your skin

Eddie had heard the stories, every angel knew them. The ones of the curse and what it's done to the angels that were stupid enough to fall for a damned demon. But for some reason, Eddie knew that deep down he would've kissed Richie again if he had the chance to go back, he'd do it again and again, no matter what the cost. Because deep down he knew that this boy.... this demon, was the only person Eddie truly ever felt this way about. He's never cared about anyone the same way he cared about Richie, it was love.

The angel could sense the demon when he re-entered the room. At that same moment, another jolt of pain shot into his body. This time it started at his lower back and spread like roots to a virus up his back.

"H-Holy shit" Eddie's eyes snapped up to meet Richie's, worry washed over him when he noticed that the demon's face had gone as white as a ghost.

"What? Rich, what is it?" he questioned. Richie stared in shock as black veins slowly kept up the back of Eddie's neck. They edged their way up to his neck and into his wings. They trained the whites of his wings as they. It seeped into the feathers and kept growing, black spikes in a world of white.

"Eddie, hey, sweety, trust me okay? It looks bad, I won't lie. But we're gonna beat this, you and me" Richie's voice was reassuring, but Eddie still needed to see what was happening. He rapidly sat up, ignoring the pain that it caused. He moved towards the full-length mirror Richie had proper up against the wall in his living room.

His voice was weak, only able to let out a soft "No....". Richie stood behind him, which was good since Eddie basically collapsed after seeing himself, the shock had overtaken his body.

Please let the devil in

Richie, of course, caught his boyfriend. He cradled the boy in his arms, softly stroking his hair while he wept into his sweater. The apartment was silent, the only sound to be heard was the soft sobs and sniffles that the angel.... that Eddie let out as Richie held him close.

A meter apart, we blankly stare

The demon wasn't that strong so at one point he had to slowly lower himself and the boy who laid in his arms to the ground. That's where they laid for a while. The pain pulsed through Eddie's body which caused the tears to keep falling. Richie held him tight, one hand holding the other's while the other would run through Eddie's hair, in slow calming motions. The two laid on the kitchen floor, Richie's back was leaning against the counter for support. Both of their wings were sprawled out everywhere as they laid together.

After countless minutes, Eddie's weeping stopped, so did the rising and falling of his chest as he breathed. "Eds?" Richie asked, voice low. When he was left with no response he asked again. "Eddie?". Now worry filled his face as he turned his boyfriend over to see his face had gone soft, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. "HEy, Eddie, Eddie?"

We shout in our heads, "Are you still in there?"

"no, no, NO... no" Richie winned, he ran his hands along Eddie's body. He moved his index finger and his middle finger along the boy's neckline, he tried to find a pulse, anything. But there were no signs of life.

Well, this ends bad then, we knew it would

"It can't end like this... I-I won't let it".

The sound of his phone ringing cut through the air like a knife. He grabbed his phone from his pocket, he smashed the answer button when he realized it was his father who was calling. "What?" His voice came out weak, hopeless even.

"Son... Blood" His father sounded out of breath. "A demon's blood can change him, bring him back".

"What? Dad, no... No, I can't turn him, h-he's an angel"

"Richie, either you turn him or he dies. You don't want him to die, do you?" The question made something snap deep within the demon. He knew what his dad was doing by the tone in his voice. He'd used it in the past to manipulate Richie, not in a bad way, but he needed it right now. His dad knew he wouldn't want to lose Eddie, so he left him no choice.

"Fine" Richie hissed, he clicked the end call button before dropping his phone.

So we won't eat our words, 'cause they don't taste good

(Mild blood warning)

The demon slowly moved his boyfriend off of him and laid him carefully onto the cool tile floor beneath them. Richie moved quickly through his kitchen, he got one of the various knives from a drawer before he took a seat again beside Eddie.

"Okay... Eddie, I'm so sorry" Richie apologized again for the 100th time. He took his own hand and with the knife, he made a clean cut across his palm. The demon hissed, fangs poking out from his mouth, at the pain.

Before he could change his mind, the demon carefully picked up his boyfriend's hand from where it sat on his chest. He studied it for a moment, examing the soft skin against his. He shook his head, cleared his mind. It was hard, his hand began to shake the moment he gripped the knife.

Just do it. He thought.

"I love you," He said as the knife drew blood.

The moment he was done with the knife he let it clatter to the ground. Instead, he put Eddie's hand in his, pushing their cuts together in hopes that enough blood would enter the boy's system for this cult-like ritual to work.

He held their hands together, he pressed his lips up against the back of Eddie's hand, and just held them.

Eddie's eyes snapped open. His heart beat strong and hard inside his chest. He looked over and saw Richie, a demon, his demon. He held their hands together to his chest, his head tilted downwards.

His voice was weak, tiered from the aches and pains, "Rich..." he whispered.

The demon's head jolted upwards. He was overwhelmed by emotions, he's alive. A smile spread across his lips as he let out a small, "Eds".  Without missing a beat he jumped at him, wrapping him in his arms and hugging him.

The sudden action caught the former angel by surprise. "H-Hey... It's good to see you too trashmouth".

Tears began to fall from Richie's eyes, unable to hold back his emotions any longer. He slowly let go and moved to face his boyfriend, "I, thought you were dead. You flatlined" he looked into Eddie's eyes and suddenly his face fell a little.

The angel's eyes were still blue, but there were no whites to them. They were actually similar to Richie's, which he loved. The only difference was that instead of red, it was blue, and everything else was pitch black.

Eddie noticed immediately and mirrored his emotions, fear, and worry. Which Richie caught on to and quickly changed this up, "I have something to tell you". Eddie simply responded with a small nod, "So you know the curse right?".

"Of course, everyone does".

"Exactly. So, uh... Yeah we kissed, and you almost- um, ya know... died. But I brought you back! You're here now, and you're alive. But y-you aren't the same" He glanced away, unable to meet his gaze, suddenly ashamed of his red and black demonic eyes. "I-I guess it's better if I show you".

Richie slowly got to his feet and helped Eddie to stand, the boy's legs were a little wobbly but he wrapped an arm around Richie's waist for support as he led the shorter boy towards the mirror. What stood before him sent a little shiver down Eddie's spin. He looked into his new eyes, the blue he was used to seeing remained the same, but instead of the normal white that usually surrounded them was replaced with a black as dark as night. The darkness grew wide for a second, his eyes stared at himself in shock. His wings had changed as well, the black veins were now gone, and so were the white feathers he knew so well. Although his wings weren't black like Richie's (Which Eddie kinda found dark and sexy), his new wings were a silver-grey, they shimmered under the light, slightly changing as he moved and tilted his body.

I'm guessing that I've grown horns I guess I'm human no more

The no longer angel noticed something else. Little spikes poking up through his brown messy hair. The little horns felt smooth to the touch.

"I'm so sorry Eddie. I never meant for any of this to happen" Richie kept his eyes on his hand, where the cut had already healed.

"Richie... We could've never been together before. An angel and a demon? That's insane, totally against every rule, on both sides" His voice was stern, anger slowly building up as he went on. It all changed within a moment, "But I'm not an angel anymore..." His voice drifted off a moment before Richie realized what he meant. The dark-haired boy stared wide-eyed at his boyfriend,  not 100% sure what was going to happen. His heart began to flutter. Then the smile he's grown to love spread over Eddie's lips, even going up to his demonic eyes.

"So it's just you and me now" Without missing a beat, Eddie closed the gap between Richie and himself, he moved his hand to grab the collar of Richie's shirt before he pulled him down towards him and kissed him.

~

"So what now?" Richie asked his boyfriend, who's head was leaned against his chest as the two laid together in Richie's bed after a hot and intense makeout session. It left both of them sweaty and speechless. The power that the two shared was something neither of them had ever felt before, leaving them both a little mad that they hadn't done it sooner.

Two ugly creatures, two sinister preachers

"Well... Now that we're two ugly creatures, two sinister preachers" The jokes rolled off his tongue. Richie could get used to these demon themed jokes.

Blind to the past, like a couple of monsters

The newly deemed demon rolled over to lay propped up on his elbows, facing Richie. "Rich there's one thing I know for sure. Heaven can't get to me, and I have a feeling Hell can't get to you". Eddie hadn't a clue about Richie's past, but he knew he'd find out sooner or later since they were in this mess together. Two separate sparks that by some miracle collided, creating something amazing.

"So it looks like it's just us..." Eddie's voice drifts off.

"You and me" Richie confirms.

"Us, together" The two smiled at that thought, "Just a couple of monster".

~

Word count: 6119

D A M N

Guys, I'm pretty sure this is the longest chapter/oneshot I've ever written. I had so much fun writing this chapter! Exploring their backgrounds and giving the whole angel x demon thing a go, and I really enjoyed it, I hope you guys did too!

As I said this chapter is based on the song Monster by Dodie. I knew the moment I listened to this song that there was some deeper story behind the lyrics and I needed to bring it to life.

Anyways that's all for me! I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, and don't forget to like and comment, it shows that you like my work and encourages me to keep writing.

Until next time

so long and goodnight.

[zaraquinn]

Your Love Keeps Lifting Me Higher

Billy Hargrove - Making reader’s heart go uwu on a late drive

Word Count: 1357

Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Requested by: @ashleymarieriffle

Author's notes:

Y/N - Your Name

Additional Notes: i’m in love with this idea of the reader is dustin’s older sister. thank you for this request. I also made a small addition to it including the kids. also small au?? basically an au that everyone wants to live in after season three.

————

————

“So Y/N,” Dustin said, entering his older sister’s room with the feeling to bother her before she left the house. “Do I get to meet this mystery boyfriend that may or may not exist?” He leaned on her doorframe, as she finished her lipstick and makeup touches. “Dustin.” She said with a warning tone. “I really don’t think you’d wanna know.” Y/N groaned, walking over to her kid brother. “And besides, he does exist.” Dustin chuckled, as he finally had the upper hand. “That’s not what you said about Suzie, and look what happened,” he explained—Y/N rolling her eyes at Dustin’s winning argument. “She does exist.” Y/N finally gave in, turning back to her little and witty brother. “So, you have to tell me, since you didn’t believe me.” Pointing at his older sister with finger guns, she lightly punched his shoulder, walking down the stairs of their home to the kitchen. “You really don’t want to know. Really.” “Oh please, eldest sister; Dearest sister that I love and care about very much, I can stand for myself.” Y/N was about to tell the younger Henderson to drop the subject but the doorbell had suddenly rung. The two Henderson siblings had glanced at each other, before racing to the door. Unfortunately, Dustin’s smaller figure had successfully snaked his way underneath Y/N and opened the door; and to his extreme surprise, was met with a ravishingly handsome (shirt halfway unbuttoned) and lovestruck Billy holding flowers at the Henderson doorstep. Dustin’s facial expression had turned him wide-eyed and speechless. Only getting a dramatic gasp before Y/N had swiftly stepped in front of him and cut him off by slamming the door behind his face.

Billy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion from the scene that weirdly unfolded in front of his eyes. “My little brother. He’s friends with—“ Y/N was going to explain, but Billy ended up beating her to it “With Max. Yeah. I know. Did he not know we’re dating?” He asked suddenly, pointing at her front door. Y/N opened her mouth to say something; almost hesitating before blatantly being honest. “No.” Billy just returned her response with a heart-warming smile. “Let’s go.” And led her to the car, and giving her the flowers.

————

Dustin suddenly broke out of his trance, shaking his head back to reality. He quickly opened the door and saw Billy and his older sister drive away in his blue Camaro; the smoke distributing in the air. Shutting the door with a slam, Dustin rushed to his room, muttering many ‘holy shits’ with each pounding step his feet made. He reached for his walkie-talkie and pulled the antenna up and switching it on. “This is Dustin! Code orange-red! I repeat! This is Dustin! Code orange-red!” He screamed into the talkie. For the first time in a long time, everyone in the party had answered. El was with Will, Max was alone at home and Mike was hanging with Lucas. Everyone had heard his not-so-important code orange-red. “What is it?” Max hurriedly said through the walkie-talkie. “Max, my sister Y/N is dating Billy!!” Dustin screamed into the walkie once more. “WHAT?!” The whole group screamed at the same time through the walkie’s receiver.

————

Out of Touch by Hall and Oats had started playing in the car, and Y/N happily blasted it, opening the windows and letting the gnarly music echo through the empty space that was Hawkins, Indiana. Her hair flowing in the wind as Billy accelerated the car’s speed. A smile painted her face as the music blasted. “So, where are we heading Lover Boy?” She smiled at her driver, as he bit his bottom lip; loving the nickname. “Just thought we could do a late night drive. Anything for you Babe.” Billy said, grabbing her hand was his other hand stayed on the wheel. “Perfect.” She smiled, grabbing his hand happily. “So does Max know about you and me?” Y/N wondered, lightly kissing Billy’s neck as he drove through the starry sky. “She’ll figure out eventually.” She smirked to himself. “If you had to tell her, what would be the first thing you’d tell her?” Y/N pressed on, running her hands underneath Billy’s unbuttoned shirt and her lips wandering at his neck. Billy sighed and smiled at the feeling, parking at the quarry to get a sight of the large moon that settled in the starry sky above them and the song Here, There, and Everywhere by The Beatles started playing; matching the romantic mood of the moonlight illuminating above them like a spotlight. He put the car in park and turned off the engine, finally able to face Y/N as his hands quickly made its way to settle on her waist.

“Well, I would start with how the first time I saw you I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And how beautiful you are. And how smart and logical you are. And how loving you are. And how you’re the most insanely hot girl in Hawkins.” He chuckled at the last part, and Y/N growing pink from the compliments. “Not true.” She nodded with a laugh, thinking about how he could find her as ‘the hottest girl in Hawkins’. Billy only chuckled, giving her kisses on her forehead and nose. “You can’t say that. It’s true.” Y/N giggled endlessly, adoring her boyfriend. “You’re such an asshole.” She shot back humorously with a laugh. “I would say how much of an asshole you are. And, how you really are to me. And beknownst to everyone else—that there is something underneath that bad boy persona everyone sees.” She smiled, showing dimples and all. At that moment, Billy truly felt in love with Y/N. “You know, Max is starting to warm up to you more. She told me that you have been more of a brother to her now. Playing catch with your kid sister and taking her to the arcade?” Y/N giggled, getting Billy’s cheeks all pink. “Sounds like the Billy I know.” Y/N said, totally adoring her boyfriend’s flustered face. “It’s all because of you.” He kissed her passionately, wanting to show her how much he loves her. “I think you should keep your asshole attitude for everyone else. And keep this Billy for me and those close to you.” He laughed at her remark, kissing her nose again. “Because I’m selfish.” The two finally continued kissing underneath the pale moonlight, doing what teenagers do.

They drive a bit longer during the midnight hours after their time was up, blasting soft music with all the windows down with their hands intertwined. With her hair blowing in the wind and singing along to the soft music, they soon reached the Henderson household—Billy dropping her off at her doorstep. “Are you sure you don’t wanna come in and sleep over? I don’t want you to get in trouble with your dad—“ Y/N said before getting cut off. Normally Billy would’ve said no, in fear of his dad, but he thought he could give less of a fuck this time. “Yeah, I’ll stay.” Billy said, locking his car on the street and meeting Y/N at her doorstep. He met her with a kiss as she unlocked her door; holding her waist as she playfully laughed at the affections.

As the door swung open, the lovebirds were met with the six kids. They’re eyes wide in shock to find none other than the bad boy of Hawkins and the detective teen of Hawkins. Billy and Y/N met the kids with furrowed brows as both Max and Dustin crossed their arms. “Billy?” Max asked, expecting an answer from her older brother. “Dearest sister Y/N?” Dustin dramatized. The two teens stayed silent, not knowing what to say. With one look, the kids all looked at each other and broke into an enormous fit of laughter—leaving the lovebirds in quick confusion.

————

✨MASTERLIST✨

💐STRANGER THINGS REQUEST POST💐

[etraytin]

Directors cut for “Ourselves and Immortality” (I sobbed, btw, the whole way through it. SOBBED. Especially when Donna has to ID people. But I loved it.)

Ourselves and Immortality is by far the most depressing fic I have ever written, but thinking about it makes me happy because I FINALLY got it finished, woo-hoo! It started out as a one-shot (just like Such A Winter’s Day, in fact), at the beginning of my 100-Day-Fic-A-Day back in 2016. I was in a very creative mood back then and taking pretty much any prompt anybody threw at me. My husband, who is only a very casual TWW fan but gives good prompts, tossed me “Roger Tribbey’s first hour as President.” 

“Wow,” I mused, “Everybody’s going to hate that.” 

But the idea was too tantalizing to pass up; it was so completely unlike anything I had written so far. Even just doing the one-shot involved a fair amount of research, figuring out where Secretary of Agriculture falls in the order of succession and such. Turns out, basically everybody else has to die in order for Roger to land in the hot seat. And if President Bartlet, Vice President Hoynes, and the Cabinet were going down, it seemed obvious that most of the staff would be gone as well. This fic prompt came along just as Designated Survivor was getting started, so I didn't want to go the "terrorists blow up the State of the Union" route, because that felt too done. Unfortunately (or fortunately for real life) there's really not that many ways to take out the government that don't also take out Washington DC and that don't involve targeted building destruction. 

(This got kind of long and involved, so I’m tucking it behind a cut.)

I wound up reaching back into my sci-fi reading childhood, to an original series Star Trek novel called The Pandora Principle. In that novel, the crew discovers an alien artifact and takes it to Starfleet Headquarters for research, only for the artifact, secretly a weapon, to shatter when it is scanned and release a bioagent that eradicates all the oxygen in the air like a self-replicating virus. Everyone in the building dies except for Captain Kirk, who for shenanigan-related reasons is in a self-sealing bunker under the building, and the rest of the novel is devoted to trying to nullify the agent before it manages to escape the hermetically sealed building. It's a great book, evocative and claustrophobic, and I definitely recommend it, but for the purposes of what I thought was a quickie one-shot, I stole the idea of a weapon that could asphyxiate everyone in a building nearly faster than they could realize they were doomed. As the story developed I had to cobble together a little modern-Earth science to flesh it out, but I hoped that the story would hold without much in the way of explanation of how everything had happened. 

One thing that helped was that OaI was not, at its heart, an action adventure story. It was barely a mystery, really. Our main characters were not the ones charged with solving the mystery or catching the bad guy. For the most part, they were not even in direct danger (except for Syl's brief action turn at the end). We spent one chapter with Mike Casper as he investigated and one chapter with the bad guy to get some important creepy exposition, but by far the character we spend the most time with is Roger. It's not Roger's job to know what the Asphyxiant is made of or its exact biological effect, and it's not Roger's job to hunt the bad guys down like dogs in the street. Like pretty much every West Wing story, it's Roger's job to keep the country running, and it's the job of the people around him to help him. The story had to be about what was happening in The White House, with the action-adventure plot clicking along offscreen and occasionally cropping up in a phone call or Sit Room briefing. I had to avoid a lot of temptation, but in a way it made the job easier. West Wing stories are stories about relationships. 

Writing the canon characters was very hard, especially in the beginning. The thing that never caught for me about Designated Survivor was how quickly the survivors moved on after the disaster. Their friends and colleagues were murdered, and there was little indication that anybody even cared. But Margaret, Carol, Mrs. Landingham, Danny and especially Donna, these people were gutted. Every single one of them was utterly devastated, but from Roger's perspective it was hard to see because all of them are so good at their jobs and so dedicated, they'd keep carrying on as best they could until they collapsed. I decided pretty early on that I would start spreading the point of view around so we could see what the characters were going through in their own voices, but that only Roger would get more than one chapter. (I did break this rule right at the end; Donna gets the first and last non-Roger chapters in the story.) Roger's narrative ties the story together but being the President requires one to stay largely in one place while being told things, so spreading out the POV also gave the story a little more momentum.

Donna's first chapter was probably the hardest part of the story to write, both because I am a hardcore J/D shipper and I'd just shut the pairing down in the cruelest of ways, and also because it was through her eyes that I had to bring the scope of the horror home without fully traumatizing the readers. My first draft of the chapter included considerably more time in the refrigerated warehouse with the FBI team, and a lot more detail about the last minutes of the lives of the senior staffers. I ended up going through and cutting a lot of it out, leaving the audience to understand how terrible it was by the way it affected Donna, rather than by my descriptions of it. And yes, it is one of several chapters I cried while writing. There's a reason (several reasons, but my own feels especially) that I had to let Zoey and Charlie live!  And yes, Margaret was speaking for me when she admitted to temporarily forgetting about Annie and Gus, but we got around to them eventually. 

OaI wound up containing most of the material I wrote for it, but it has one deleted scene and one crackadelic alternate ending. The deleted scene occurs shortly before the state funeral and is from Bonnie's perspective; she and Ginger are trying to pack up Sam and Toby's offices to allow the new senior staffers to move in. I got it half-written, then thought I lost it in a computer-related accident. It was so damn sad to write the first time, and it was all character work and only smidgens of plot, and I was really mad about losing the work, so I decided to skip over it and go straight on to the next thing, which I believe may have been Zoey's chapter. It turned out that I did recover most of what I'd written for the chapter, but by the time I found it, the plot had moved on. I tried to make it up to Bonnie by giving her a nice little character bit and a job promotion at the end of the story. 

The crackadelic ending is sort of a long story. Most of the reason that OaI got finished despite all my life changes and busy years and general creative slump is that my parents both fell in love with it. You may ask, "Doesn't having your parents reading your fanfiction make things awkward sometimes?" and in answer I will point you to the number of real sex scenes in my published fanworks, which is zero. And then I will nod enthusiastically. But my dad, especially, loved this story and decided that he ought to be in it. And that he ought to be the Chief Justice. My dad is a retired judge, so he felt this should not be too much of a stretch for him, career-wise. I tried to explain the concept of self-insert to him, but then caved and created a thinly-veiled expy of him to be Chief Justice, then gave him a little ceremony in-story and a few extra mentions here and there. I gave him that chapter as a Christmas present, and he was happy! For awhile. Then he decided that he ought to be the President. I tried to explain to him that this is not how governmenting works, which he of course already knew, but he was firm. His Chief Justice character was great, and he ought to be President. He is nothing if not persistent, and also nothing if not hard to buy gifts for, so for Christmas the next year, I presented him with Chapter 28: The Surprise Noncanonical Epilogue, which has never before been published to the internet. It is very silly. 

This has gotten very long and I still need to write today's Quarantine Journal, so I guess I'll wrap it up there. If you have any specific questions about the story or any other stories, feel free to toss them my way! 

[carol-effing-danvers]

push me, pull you

this is part three of the series “run long, roam far, return soon” part one: “knock me the fuck out (i dare ya, babe)” (cont.) (fin.) part two: “where we grew up”

(click here if you’d prefer to read this in AO3′s format)

“You guys have been in here for over twenty minutes,” Steve complains, turning into the kitchen of the Wheeler’s house – not the same as the one they lived in while Nancy and Mike where in high school. Karen got her heart set on a fixer-upper after Mike left for college and it became a passion project for her. It’s old, charming, and deeply haunted. “What are you two doing?”

Quickly, El turns away from Billy, nervously running her hand over the end of the braid draped over her shoulder. She’s dressed a little nicer than he normally sees her today, in a sweet flowing dress patterned in butterflies that leaves her shoulders bare. There’s always been an innocence to her, despite her childhood, or maybe because of it. A wide-eyed wonder that he secretly hopes she never loses.

Steve notices that Billy looks concerned as he informs Steve “El’s gotten herself ready for a big date.”

“Billy,” she pleads, mumbling at her hands. “I can’t.”

“Just ask,” he coaxes softly. “Even if he says ‘no’, anything is better than wondering. You know that.”

“Ask who what?” Steve asks, confused. Then, feeling like he’s been hit with a frying pan: “Jesus fuck, please do not say Lucas, I will have a fucking heart attack-”

Lucas has spent six years hoping that Max would see what a monstrous snake her husband was and leave his ass and Max has, from what Billy’s told, regretted most of the eight years since they broke up for good. Steve can’t take watching life break El’s heart that way, not sweet and loyal Eleven.

“Henderson,” Billy says, clipped and brusque. “She’s talking about Henderson.”

“Why would you talk El into asking Dust on a date?” he says, even more confused now. “Eleven doesn’t even want to talk to Dustin. I mean, I don’t think you hate him, but he’s pretty sure that you do. He can be dramatic sometimes.”

El trembles as she slides down the wall into a crouch. “I can’t!” she tells Billy, her eyes filling with tears. “Billy, I can’t! I’ve already messed it up.”

Crouching beside her, Billy says, “Why d’you never talk to him, honey?”

She shrugs, staring at the floor as she wipes furiously at her cheeks. “I can’t-I can’t remember how to talk around him,” she says, swallowing against a fresh urge to weep. “I forget words.”

“Yeah, baby, I know. Love can make you super dumb.” Billy says sympathetically and Steve feels sucker-punched when he realizes that he is talking about the way teenage Billy felt about teenage Steve.

Turning on his heel, Steve enters back into the group of people laughing around a game of mock D&D in Max’s living room. “Hey,” he says, smiling at Dustinas he gestures wildly with a half-empty glass of Guinness. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Um, yeah.” Dust downs the rest of his glass and hands their shoddily made up script to Erica. “Have fun. Make me proud.”

“Wow, the bar has never been lower.”

“I love you too, you little shit.” Steve begins pulling him along toward the kitchen. He’s not sure he’ll ever get over Dustin growing up to be bigger and taller than him. Bemused, he asks, “Where are we going?”

“I think that it’s time for El to apologize to you,” Steve says firmly. It was the one thing he was sure of – his realization may never have arrived if Billy hadn’t been laying in the hospital bed and apologized in that dead, traumatized monotone.

Dustin begins to resist a little. “No, Steve, c’mon. The six of us don’t really have to be attached at the hip.”

“You think she hates you.”

“No, I said she didn’t like me,” Dust replies patiently as they approach the kitchen. “That’s not the same thing.”

Billy and El are where he left them, and if he didn’t believe it before, he believes it when he actually looks at her reaction to seeing Dustin.

Eleven’s back straightens up and her eyes widen, leaning away from their approach like someone is actively holding a gun to her head. If Billy’s reaction to his own love was rage, El’s reaction seems to be terror.

“Dude, what did you guys do to her?” Dustin is just as clueless as Steve was, but it doesn’t take a genius like him to notice that she’s been crying recently. “Eleven…”

Even the simple act of hearing her name makes El tremble. Dustin can barely seem to stand looking at her and it pains him. Steve says, “If you guys ever want to get past this, then she needs to apologize to you.”

“Why the hell do you think she needs to apologize to me? I’m the asshole, you dipshits! Have the two of you seriously been telling her that was her fucking fault?!” Crouching, Dustin mutters, still without looking quite at her, “C’mon, you don’t need to do this. Go to The Party, I’ll talk to the idiots.”

“Dustin, what you talking about?” Steve demands, “What’s your fault?”

Startled, the younger man looks at him, blinks, then quickly says, “Nothing, stop harassing her about this. She doesn’t need to apologize, we don’t talk to each other, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have my back, okay?”

Billy tries to say something, but Steve cuts him off. If he knows what Dustin sounds like when he’s tired, then he also knows what Dustin looks like when he’s done something he shouldn’t have. “Why do you look guilty? Dust, what did you do? Why did you call yourself an asshole?”

Awkwardly fluffing his curly hair, like an exceptionally sad-looking poodle, Dustin grimaces and tells El, still without looking her directly in the eye, “Sorry, I thought you already told him. I should have known you wouldn’t rat me out. I’m sorry they’ve been bugging you.”

She stares at him, wide-eyed, as he turns to Steve and bluntly says “Eleven doesn’t like me because two weeks after graduation, after she broke up with Mike, I basically shoved my tongue down her throat.” Everyone in the room gapes at him in shock and he sighs heavily, “We were all at a bonfire, I was drunk, she was really drunk, She didn’t want to talk to me anymore, and I totally respect that. You guys need to stop this weird crusade to force her to like me, because it’s my fault. I earned it.”

Dustin flails his arms in a ‘so, there’ kind of gesture, and adds, “El, I’m so sorry for this whole thing, I should’ve apologized immediately, but you look so freaked out anytime I go near you, and I didn’t wanna corner you like some kind of creep. You’ve always been Mike’s girl, and it was so fucking gross and sleazy for me to…”

“I’m not a possession.” Eleven interrupts, her voice hard and cold. “I don’t belong to Mike Wheeler. Michael Wheeler doesn’t own me.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Dustin assures her. With a nervous laugh, he adds, “I don’t think anyone could if they tried.”

And El’s face fills with a helpless rage that reminds Billy painfully of himself. You idiot, he thinks, watching Dustin’s face, so full of friendly sympathy. So clueless for a kid so smart. She wants to belong to someone. She wants to belong to you.

Were his feelings that obvious?

Oh, totally, Robin’s voice answers in his head, explaining to Erica on the phone. There poor Billy-boy was, heart on his sleeve, checkin’ Steve-o out like he was on the effing menu. And Steve got so flustered every time Billy walked in, he never even noticed.  

“You kissed me,” she repeats angrily.

“I’m sorry,” Dustin repeats, miserably. “I took advantage of you, El, and it took me so fucking long to apologize, but I really am so sorry.”

“I don’t remember,” El seethes, fists clenched. “You kissed me, and I don’t remember.”

“You were really drunk,” Dustin says gently. “But I promise, I won’t ever do that again, okay?”

Oh, that is the opposite of the thing Eleven wants to hear. She’s so angry – she feels like something she so desperately wants has been taken from her, and now Dustin is telling her she doesn’t even have the chance to get it back again.

“Bastard,” she hisses, eyes beginning to shine and glitter with unshed tears. On the stove, a kettle begins to whistle sharply, even though the burner it’s sitting on isn’t even lit.

Dustin begins backing away, eyes wide, and El lunges, grabbing the front of his sweater with clawed fingers and kissing him, passionate with anger and six years of love that she’s just been choking herself on.

She pulls away just as abruptly, and Dustin’s lower lip begins to bleed sluggishly. “You bit me.”

He doesn’t sound mad, just quietly shocked.

“That’s all you can say to me?” she demands, as the tears begin to slide down her face. She has made herself into a fool, and for no good reason. She told Billy this was a mistake.

“I…yes?” He’s bewildered by the combination of passion and violence, and even more bewildered by the tear. Maybe the kiss made them even now? But then why the hell is she crying? Fuck, he’s been trying not to upset her, Dustin can’t stand it when Eleven cries, but somehow, he’s managed to do it anyway.

Swiping angrily at her eyes, El darts toward the back stairwell beside the sink. Dust, feeling like something important was slipping away from him, grabs her arm, though he knows that’s the last thing he should do with El when she’s upset. That’s how you end up suddenly knowing what the ceiling feels like on your back. “What do you want me to say?” he pleads, grabbing both of her elbows. “Just tell me what you want, and I promise I’ll do it.”

LOVE ME BACK!, she wants to scream.

“Nothing,” she says dully, limbs going slack like a puppet with its strings cut. The lie crushes her. “I don’t want anything.”

“Do you just…really not like me, then?” he asks in a small voice, and the question startles her into a half turn. “Because you didn’t remember my dumb drunk kiss, but you always act like I’m a Demogorgon that’s about to…eat…you…”

Her face is a brilliant crimson, arms crossed defensively over her chest. His lower lip still stings. “Oh.”

“Don’t look at me,” she says in a mumble, shoulders hunching. She covers her eyes, tears spilling out from beneath her fingers. Chin trembling, she repeats, half-pleading, “I don’t want anything.”

Dustin swallows hard, licks his lips. He’s been less nervous presenting his actual dissertation plan. “What if I want something? Would that be okay?” He watches her chewing on her lower lip before she nods. “Can you please look at me?”

Slowly, arm trembling, she lowers her hand and stares at him, her gaze darting at him and then away, frightened and hesitant. She’s barely able to raise her voice. “...okay.”

He never had the slightest conception of the power his touch could have over her, but when his hands cup her face, all of the cupboard doors suddenly swing themselves open. His thumbs wipe at the trails of tears on her cheeks and the dishes on the shelves tremble along with her. Dustin lets her relax enough to look him straight in the eye and says, deadly serious, “Do you have any idea how fucking difficult it is, finding a girl who can measure up to you?”

Her brows pinch together.

“Because I’ve tried,” he confesses. “For twelve years, in three different states, I’ve tried to find a woman who can compete with the first girl I ever fell in love with, and it’s asking way too much of one person.”

Eleven listens, stunned, as he continues “Because that girl is the kindest person I know, and the strongest, and the bravest. She’s clever, and funny, and beautiful, and wise. She’s stubborn as a mule and she pushes anyone who’s ever loved her to be the best version of themselves. She can flip cars without breaking a sweat, and she makes a chocolate cake so delicious that after my first bite, I cried literal tears of joy.”

She’s crying again, and the bags of flour and sugar on the counter have split their seams and begin to pour their contents all over the countertops and the floor. Like Eleven’s heart is bursting, and they burst with her in sympathy.

Pressing his forehead to hers, Dustin whispers “That’s all I want. Find me your equal. I’ve tried, but every time I come home, I see you and I know it’s no use. No matter who they are, they can’t be better than an Eleven.”

“…I can’t say anything that nice,” she admits, holding his hands to her skin. “I’m-I don’t have the words…”

Karen’s tulips, half dead in their vase, are suddenly blooming in full life on the center island. Billy and Steve grin at each other.

Very quietly, Eleven says, “You carried me.” At his confused look, she continues “In the school. When we were young. You carried me. I remembered that.”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t know why, because she seems to think this is very important.

“It was the first,” she tells him. “The first time I really knew what ‘safe’ felt like. It was you. It’s always been you, too.”

Dustin laughs. “We’re a pair of perfect fuck-ups, aren’t we?”

Seriously, she asks “Are we a pair?”

“We could be. If you want.”

She considers that for a moment. “Does it mean I can have a real kiss now?”

His eyes flicker down to her lips. After fully breaking, his voice has always had an almost musical quality, but it seems especially nice to her. “They both felt pretty fucking real to me.”

The back of her neck tingles. As stubborn as he accused, El insists “More?”

Dustin glances nervously at Steve and Billy.

Steve laughs and Billy rolls his eyes. “At least go upstairs, we don’t need to watch the two of you making out.”

Billy sighs as El drags Dustin up the stairs. He’s intensely familiar with dating someone who looks innocent but turns into a fucking maniac in the sack when they’re in the right mood.

Fuck, I hope the kid has a seatbelt and a fucking helmet.

[numba99]

Fatal Attraction Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: When a mysterious man shows up at your job, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to him - and him to you. But behind the beautiful face is the dark lifestyle of a man who has made his wealth through becoming the most powerful drug dealer in the city. Word count: 2.7k

Song (I already forgot to do this for part 2 so you’r getting the one I meant for that part too) - ... Ready For It? // Taylor Swift & Finally//Beautiful Stranger // Halsey

Warning: mentions of death

Two weeks. Two weeks shouldn’t feel that long but it felt like an eternity. That was how long it had been since you had seen Mika, or even heard from him. You didn’t know what went wrong. When your date got interrupted, you thought you’d get an explanation a few hours later, or at least the next day. You were beginning to wonder if what you witnessed was a lot more serious than it seemed. 

A small, overly anxious part of you was afraid that maybe Mika got hurt by the Dimitri guy and that’s what you hadn’t heard from him. You tried to push that thought out of your head, but with each day that went by, it seemed more possible. You didn’t think Mika would be the type to just ghost you, especially after you figured out he was really a coke dealer. You could rat him out if you were mad for all he knew. Not that you would ever do that. 

You were pretty desperate for any contact at this point. A simple “im okay,” text would have at least put you at ease. But nothing. Maybe Mika wasn't the guy you thought, you didn’t know him that well, really. Or maybe something really bad happened...

You shook your head at yourself in the cracked mirror in the strip club changing room. You couldn’t let that thought get to you right now. You had a job to do, a shitty job, but a job nonetheless. Rent wasn’t going to pay itself, and you certainly weren’t going to get any tips if you looked all mopey.

So, you stepped out and did your thing. No amount of pep talk, however, could prevent the heaviness in your chest when you looked at where Mika usually sat and found and empty chair. It had be empty for awhile now, but you still weren’t able to shake that little glimmer of hope that you’d look out a find him there, just like old times.

You weren’t quite sure how long you were up there for. It all felt like a daze recently. It could have been 5 songs, maybe 10? You didn’t really know. What you did know was Rick was now excitedly motioning for you, which meant only one thing. Private room booking. The absolute last thing you wanted to do right now.

“There’s my little money maker,” Rick said with his classical sleazy smile.

“Where am I going?” you replied, biting back a gag. You had men look at you nearly naked every night, but something about how Rick looked at you made your stomach churn. He was someone who enjoyed his job way too much.

“Room 2, enjoy,” he replied. You rolled your eyes and walked away quickly; you didn't wanna give him a chance to slap your ass as you left. You seriously hoped this guy would be a big tipped, because it was going to take everything in you to give him a decent show.

When you stepped into the little room, your stomach fell to the floor. “Mika,” you gasped. You couldn’t believe your eyes at first, but it was really him sitting in front of you.

“Hi y/n,” Mika said. Anger bubbled inside you, you marched toward him and gave him a hard shove. He was sitting, so it didn’t really do much, but it was cathartic.

“Hi? You disappear for two weeks and all you can fucking give me is a hi?” you growled. You had to whisper-yell because the walls were thin, but you think he got the point.

“You have every right to be mad at me,” Mika replied calmly. It irritated you more.

“You’re fucking right I do! Do you have any idea what was going through my mind, or do you only care about me when you want a little show?” you snapped, gesturing to the tiny lingerie you wore.

That bothered him. “No y/n, not at all,” he replied sternly, “It’s complicated... but I want to explain.”

“You better,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“But not here, it’s not secure enough,” he told you.

“I don’t get off for another hour,” you replied.

“I can get you off now,” Mike replied, reaching for his wallet.

“No, I don’t need you throwing around your money anymore,” you stated, “If you really care, you’ll wait for me. If not it was nice knowing you.” With that, you spun around and left. It left you feeling sort of on a high. It felt good to tell him off, and even though you were annoyed you were glad that he was okay. Now it was just a matter of if he was going to wait.

The next hour went by quickly, to your delight. You hated that you were excited to see Mika. You should be pissed and never want to see him again. While you were still mad at him, you were eager for his explanation. You were hoping all the nagging questions that plagued your brain these last two weeks would finally be answered.

When the hour was up, you found Mika’s car waiting outside. You were happy he waited for you, but you didn’t allow yourself a smile. There was still a lot to be discussed.

“Where are we going?” you asked as you slid into the backseat. You stayed as far from him as the backseat allowed. You didn’t trust yourself around him, not even when annoyed.

“Your place, if that’s okay. We wouldn’t be expected to go there,” Mika replied.

“Expected? By who?” you questioned.

“It will make sense when I explained, just trust me,” Mika urged.

“Alright, fine,” you replied, but this better be good. You gave the driver the address and you started on your way. It was then you realized Chris was not in the front seat. “No sidekick tonight?”

“I thought this conversation would be better for just the two of us.” Mika replied, with a tone in his voice you couldn’t quite place. You suddenly felt a knot form in your stomach. It was that same sort of feeling when a parent said they needed to talk to you.

The car came to a stop before you could have a full blown panic attack about it.  Mika followed you silently into your building. The elevator climbed to your floor painfully slowly. Had it always been this slow? You swore it was just trying to torture you now.

“My place is, er, small,” you said as you slipped the key in the lock. Small was an understatement. It was basically a glorified closet with a kitchen and a bathroom. It wasn't much at all, but it was yours and yours alone, which was a difficult feat in Manhattan. You were proud of it, and its many, many flaws.

“I don’t mind,” Mika replied as you shut the door behind the two of you. You led him to the couch, feeling your palms get a sweaty as you waited for him to begin.

“So?” you prompted.

“I don't even know where to begin,” Mika sighed.

“Well how about you begin with whatever happened at that bar you took me too. With that guy, um, Dimitri?” Mika tensed at his name.

“I’m still really sorry I put you in that situation,” Mika sighed.

“It’s fine Mika, just tell me what’s the matter,” you replied, gently touching his thigh for reassurance.

“Alright well like I told you, I basically oversee all the coke that comes into the city,” he began, “It’s been like that for a while now. Dimitri used to work for me, we were close, actually. I considered him a friend, but he betrayed me. He left me to run with the Russians.” 

“The Russians?” you questioned.

“They’re my rival I guess you could say,” Mika answered, “They’re the seconded biggest group of coke dealers in the city, though they really don’t have anything on the flow I have coming in. Dimitri has been trying to one up me ever since he left.” 

“Why’d he leave?” 

Mika shrugged, “Could have been anything. He wanted more money, more power I’m guessing. He always wanted to call the shots but at the end of the day everyone answered to me, just like the answered to my father. He started this all and I inherited it from him when he-” Mika stopped mid-sentence, like the words got stuck in his throat.

“What happened to him?” you probed gently, you scooted closer to him, sensing he wasn’t about to tell you a feel good story.

“He was killed, not by Dimitri’s hand, but he was the one who put the hit out. He thought with my father gone he would easily be able to take the empire from me. Clearly he he had no idea who he was dealing with,” Mika said bitterly.

“Mika I’m so sorry,” you replied, wrapping and arm around him. He was trying to be strong, but it hurt him, you could see that.

“It’s alright. I killed the man who pulled the trigger and have been making Dimitri’s life a living hell ever since,” Mika replied. He paused, giving you a cautious look. “I’m sorry, I hope I’m not scaring you.”

“I’m not afraid of you Mika,” you replied firmly. At least that answered your question from your last date. 

“You should be,” Mika replied, “You should be afraid to be anywhere near me.” 

“Why?” 

“Why?” Mika incredulously, “Did you not hear what I just told you?”

“I heard you but I don’t see how that should make me afraid to be with you. You kept me safe,” you reminded him.

“We got lucky,” Mika replied, “If Dimitri had seen you, if he knew that I cared about you, you’d never be safe again. He’d do anything to hurt me y/n, including killing everyone I care about if he can. Hell, he’d start going after the people you care about. Your friends, your parents.” 

His last words stung, not that he could know why. “He’d too late,” you mumbled.

“What do you mean?” Mika asked.

Your anxiety spiked, just as it always did when you had to tell the story. It never got easier. “My parents were killed,” you told him, “Just a few years ago. They were walking home late at night and two guys tried to rob them. They put up a fight and they both got shot.”

“I’m sorry y/n I didn’t know,” Mika said softly.

“It’s fine, you had no way of knowing,” you replied.

“Did they catch who did it?” Mika asked.

“Yes, but only one of them got jail time. The one that gave up the other’s name got a plea bargain. He says the other one pulled the trigger, but really I have no way of knowing. For all I know, the guy who killed both my parents is still walking the streets today,” you explained, a chill going down your spine as you finished. 

“What's his name?” Mika asked, his face etched with anger.

You could never forget it, “Thomas Holmes. As long as he’s around, I don’t feel safe, not really. So I’m sorry Mika, if you don't want me around you’re gonna have to think of something more creative.”

“I hate that you have to feel like that, that someone did that to you,” Mika replied, frowning. 

“That’s life, I guess,” you tried to make it come out like a joke, but it wasn’t very convincing. Everything about what happened to you sucked. 

“Do you have any other family?” Mika asked. You just now realized his hand was holding yours.

“No, my parents were only children and my grandparents passed when I was younger,” you told him, “I was in college when it happened. I had some friends from that and I tried to keep going, but it was too much. It kinda sucks when you walk in the room and suck the whole life out of it because no one knows what to say to the girl with two dead parents. So I dropped out and that's how I ended up stripping.”

“I’m sorry,” Mika repeated, squeezing your hand.

“We aren't so different I guess,” you said.

“No you’re nothing like me,” Mika shook his head, “Nothing good will come of being with me.”

“That’s not your decision to make, Mika,” you replied sternly, “Like I said, if you really want me gone then just say it, but I’m not backing down because you’re scared for me. I think I’ve proven by now I have a good head on my shoulders.”

“Your life’s not gonna be the same.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “At this point I’m sorta used to life altering events.”

“There will be somethings we have to go over,” Mika said.

“Blah, blah, blah, we can go over your rules later,” you teased, but then added more seriously, “I just wanna be yours, Mika. I don’t care what I have to do.”

Mika leaned in close to you, his forehead pressing against yours. You breathed in his familiar scent, immediately making heart race. “You’re mine, y/n,” Mika murmured, “And I’m yours.” His hand found your cheek and the next thing you knew, his lips were pressed to yours.

You hated cliches, but there was no other way to describe how it felt to kiss him but fireworks. It was weird, Mika was still somewhat of a stranger to you, but you never felt so secure with someone. It was like you’ve known him your whole life. 

“You’re crazy, you know that right?” Mika said breathlessly. It was the first time you saw him smile all night.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you raise a brow.

“Bad for you, good for me I guess,” he teased.

“Very good for you,” you replied, pulling him in for a kiss another kiss. You tangled your hands through his hair, sliding on to his lap. You nipped at his lower lip before slipping your tongue in his mouth. You could kiss him for hours, you thought, you never felt anything so intoxicating. And if just this was good...

“Not tonight,” Mika pulled away as you reached for his pants.

“Why not?” you pouted.

“We should take things slow, I want it to be special,” Mika told you, pushing a lock of hair out of your eyes.

“What my ripped up secondhand couch isn’t special enough for you?” you feigned offense.

Mika laughed, “I love your couch. I just wanna do this right.”

You nodded, “Alright, I can be patient. But will you stay the night?” The thought of him leaving now, even if it was just for the night made your heart hurt.

“Sure baby, I’ll stay,” he replied, his hand on the back of your neck as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Let me just call the driver and let him know hes free to go. I’ll meet you in the bedroom?”

“Sure, if you get lost, just call my name I’ll come get you,” you joked as you hopped up. Mika smiled, pulling you for another kiss before letting you go. You scurried into your room, changing into the cutest pair of pjs you had. You got into bed, laughing to yourself at the thought of Mika having to squeeze into you little twin size bed with you.

A few minutes later Mika came in. “We’re all good,” he told you.

“I’d offer you something to sleep in, but I don’t think anything I have would fit,” you said.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Mika replied. With that he began to strip. Sure, he only went down to his boxers and the tank under his shirt, but it was more than enough to make your lower stomach churn. You’re taking it slow, you’re taking it slow, you’re taking it slow.

“Sorry the bed’s so small,” you said you lifted the covers for him to get in. It was a tight fit and you were practically on top of him, not that you minded.

“It’s alright it’s... cozy,” he smiled, gently running his fingers along your face. He was quiet for a few minutes before adding, “Would it weird you out if I said I thought about being like this with you a lot?”

You shook your head, “Not at all.” The thought gave you butterflies.

Mika smiled, giving you one last kiss, “Goodnight, y/n.”

“Goodnight, Mika,” you replied, settling into his chest. You didn't know how to explain it, but in that moment you knew without a shadow of a doubt that you and Mika were destined to be with each other.