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ladykailitha · 3 months ago

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You're a Dream to Me Part 1

I've been really struggling with Dragon Slayer and trying to get it so that it makes sense, so I'll be cycling in some of the other WIP I have in the wings until I can get it sorted out.

I thought I had another week to try and get the kinks ironed out, but I didn't.

And it ends on a bit of cliffhanger, though not the cliffhanger I original had. Which means that the NEXT chapter will ALSO have a cliffhanger. Once I get the kinks worked out of that chapter.

I hate it when stories fight me. I haven't had one this bad since the first soulmate story "Batshit Soulmates". But I will not abandon it. It just will take longer to come out then originally planned.

So! You're getting this one instead! It has a very lovely backlog and it's a great time to start putting it out because it's Valentine's Day month!

The title comes from The Cranberries song of the same name.

Summary: In a world where dreams show your true soulmate when you need them most, Steve has been having his for years but because his soulmate isn't ready yet, he's never seen what his soulmate looks like. Eddie has been having dreams about Steve Harrington since high school but more in the vein of wet dreams rather than soulmate. But when Brian's soulmate turns out to be a sweet girl who hadn't heard a heavy metal song in her life, suddenly Eddie realizes he needs to stop expecting his soulmate to look a certain way.

Soulmates. The world was filled with them, but only when you needed them. So there were people who went about the world without a single dream or vision. That was how you knew who they were. You would start dreaming of a person and that would be your soulmate. But only when both of you were ready.

Which meant that sometimes one soulmate went without for awhile, but the knowledge of their soulmate being out there was enough to keep them going. Sometimes they married other people or dated around. There was none of this “waiting” for their soulmate. People lived their lives as normal.

People who were married when they discovered their soulmates had a lot of options, including polyamory. Because sometimes the soulmate was platonic.

Steve had been so sure his was platonic because he started having dreams of his soulmate right out of high school, around the time he started working with Robin at Scoops Ahoy! but she knew her soulmate. Vickie Cameron. They were super sweet together.

Steve had seen all his friends get their soulmates, the hardest had been Nancy and Jonathan, because Nancy hadn’t told him she had been dreaming of her soulmate. She just told him in a drunken slur that their love was bullshit and then proceeded to sleep with Jonathan before Steve and her had even officially broken up.

Then he met Robin and for all their connectiveness, they weren’t soulmates. A thought that vexed Robin greatly. She thought it was the universe’s greatest sin that it didn’t see the chaotic potential of the two of them.

Dustin had come home the summer Steve had met Robin all rosy-cheeked and smiling. He had met his soulmate, Suzie Bingham and she was everything bright and beautiful in the world. Steve had patted him on the back, grateful that he hadn’t been left out of his friend group. And while the others hadn’t soulamated yet, but it was a pretty sure thing that Max and Lucas were soulmates and that at least two points of the Mike, Will, and El love triangle were soulmates.

It would be a year before it shook out that it was Will and Mike, as El didn’t seem to need a soulmate. Mike had had some internalized homophobia he had to battle first before he could accept that his soulmate wasn’t El, but Will.

It would be another two years before Max and Lucas sorted it out. It was their senior year and Max realized that the only person she wanted to spend her life with was Lucas and the universe confirmed it for them. Lucas had been having his dreams since they met, but they only solidified when she accepted that their love was real.

Steve’s dreams of his soulmate had always been hazy. He would dream of them curling up behind him in bed and pressing kisses to his neck or just star gazing. Those were his favorite, when they would just lay on the top of some, he assumed trailer or RV, and just talk for hours. He couldn’t hear their voice, or see their face, but he was almost 98% sure they were a man.

When he had told his parents they had scoffed. Gay soulmates were a myth made up by degenerates and deviates trying to push their agenda down everyone else’s throats. But as his father ranted and raved, Steve watched his mother. She would nod and agree, but the light behind her eyes was gone.

He strongly suspected that her soulmate was a woman, but she didn’t dare toe the line. Steve honestly felt sorry for her. And whoever her soulmate was, waiting her not to be homophobic.

It was a stormy night when his first clear dream happened. Steve’s job at the bookstore had kept him late and he had fallen face first into his pillow, with only kicking off his shoes and removing his belt.

It started out like it normally did. Steve was in a large bed in the trailer/RV snuggled up into the piles of blankets and comforters. The rain had carried through to the dream and pounded against the metal roof of their home. His back was to the door.

The front door opened and Steve could hear the sound of rain intensify and then return to its soft pattering as the door closed behind whoever had come in. Steve could hear the jangling of the guy’s belt and chains, he supposed, as the man undressed.

Then he slipped under the covers and pulled Steve close. “Hey, Stevie,” the warm voice murmured and in Steve’s drowsy state in the dream he didn’t even realize he understood what was said for the first time.

Kisses pressed against the back of his neck and Steve smiled fondly. He turned in his dream and snuggled in close. He buried his head into the soft curls at the nape of his soulmate’s neck and sighed happily.

“Someone is snuggly tonight,” the man rumbled.

But before Steve could raise his head to press a kiss to the underside of his soulmate’s jaw, suddenly there was a blazing alarm going off in his head and he was jolted awake.

But just like every other soulmate dream he had the memories of which came flooding back in the moment he could think straight.

“Holy shit!” He dove for his phone and immediately called Robin.

“Steven Abernathy Harrington,” she groused groggily into her phone, “you better have a good reason for waking me up before dawn on my day off.”

“I heard my soulmate in my dream last night.”

Then he counted down in his head, bobbing his head with it. Five, four, three, two, one...

“What?!” she screamed. “Are you fucking with me right now? No, don’t answer that. This is too important for you to lie about. And it’s definitely a guy?”

Steve hummed in the affirmative, biting on his thumb. “He sound so super sweet, too. It was warm and rumbly and I almost want to say familiar.”

There was silence on the line for a beat or two. “So maybe someone you already know?”

“That’s what it felt like,” Steve confirmed. “It was like I finally came home at last. I just wonder what happened in his life to be ready for a soulmate when he wasn’t before.”

Robin tsked. “There is no need for that kind of talk,” she huffed. “That will just lead down a dark path. It doesn’t matter why it took him so long. He’s ready now. Or at least more ready than he was before. But you’ll just have to keep dreaming of that lover boy of yours.”

“Thanks, Rob,” he murmured. “You’re bestest friend a guy could hope for.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she teased. “Now, excuse me while I go back to bed and sleep.”

“Sleep well.” He ended the call and pressed the phone against his lips. He wanted to go back bed and dream more. But he had store to open and a job to do. One he loved, no less. So reluctantly he got out of bed to start his day.

Eddie woke up that morning feeling like he’d been hit by a truck. He wished he could blame it on a hangover from partying all night, but no. He had crashed face first into his pillow from the long ass drive they had taken to get into Dayton the second he had gotten checked-in.

He rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He had dreamed about Steve Harrington. Again. This crush was getting wildly out of hand. But then it had been since he watched Billy Hargrove and him playing against each other in a skins game. Steve was on the skins team and hooboy.

Those shorts sat a little too low on his hips to be decent and the towel tucked into the back of them sought to bring them even further down. It was fucking sinful.

The dream had started as they always had, him slipping into his bedroom in his Uncle Wayne’s trailer and taking off his clothes. But then the dream changed from the usual hot sex to Steve cuddling up under his chin.

Eddie had gotten breathless from the idea of Steve initiating the sex for the first time in the dream when suddenly there was a knock on his door jolting him awake.

The knocking persisted, forcing him to his feet. He shuffled over to the door and swung it open, rubbing his eyes.

On the other side of the door was his manager, Chrissy Cunningham. He raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

“Just what the fuck do you call this time?” she hissed at him, pushing him into the hotel room. “We have to be at sound check in an hour. Hurry and get your shower, I’ll have clothes ready for you when you get out.”

Eddie hurried to do as he was told. He must have forgotten to set his alarm before pillow diving. He scrubbed his face in the shower, trying to get the dream out of his head. But it lingered in a way the didn’t normally.

He dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist. “Sorry, Chris. I must have either forgot to set the alarm or I slept right through it.”

Chrissy pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “I know. You’re usually so good at it. So I’m not mad, just frustrated because we’re running late.”

Eddie nodded and then turned around to drop towel and scrambled to put on the clothes she had laid out for him and then ducked back into the bathroom to do his hair. With his insistence to keep it long, it was a bit of hassle to keep it from frizzing out. Then he was ready.

Once they were in the car that would be taking them to the venue, Chrissy leaned over and asked, “Hey are you okay? You aren’t usually late.”

Which was true, despite all of the ADHD-ness of all of him, he was stickler for being on time, early if he could help it.

He shook his head. “Dreams, man. Some dreams just knock you out until they’re done with you.”

Jeff rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Meaning he was too embarrassed to answer the door because he had another wet dream of...” his voice went falsetto, “Steve Harrington!”

“Fuck off!” Eddie snarled. He knew that it was a long running joke with his other bandmates, but today it felt like it crossed a line.

Jeff blinked at him for a moment. “Okay, definitely didn’t come if he’s that grumpy. Shit, dude, no need to rip my head off.”

“I’d have to attest to the not coming,” Chrissy said with a gentle elbow in Eddie’s side to show that she was joking, “he looked all cute and sleep rumpled this morning. I know the ‘no longer horny’ look, and this wasn’t it.”

“But it’s still obvious he dreamed of Steve,” Brian huffed with a barely suppressed smile. “He’s got that far away look in his eyes that he only gets when he thinks about his loverboy.”

Eddie just rolled his eyes and pulled out his earbuds. He stuck them in his ears and turned up his music as loud as he could, staring out the window.

Jeff and Chrissy glanced at each other and grimaced. Whatever this was with Eddie, it wasn’t usual Eddie drama.

“So is your soulmate coming to the concert, Bri?” Chrissy asked, choosing to ignore the brooding Eddie for the moment. “I can have the box office comp a couple of tickets if you wanted.”

Brian brightened up. “That would be great! Sophie was saying that she’d never been to a live concert before.”

“Man,” Gareth groaned throwing back his head roughly against the seat cushion. “You really lucked out on the soulmate department. Sophie is sweet, hot, and bakes like a fucking pro!”

Brian shook his head. “It’s not my fault your soulmate is a diva. Like the real lucky one is Jeff who got his like right after we got a record deal. She’s been his ride or die like the whole time.”

Jeff sighed happily. “I really, really did. I wish she could have made it out this tour, but gestating twins isn’t easy being in one place, I can’t imagine doing it on the road.”

Gareth kicked the seat between Chrissy and Eddie. “We all thought it was going to be you and Eddie for sure.”

Eddie just sneered and went back to gazing out the window. He had too. Chrissy was everything he thought he wanted in a soulmate. Yeah, she was a former cheerleader, but she liked heavy metal and was a perfect mix of sweet and sassy. She never put up with his bullshit but was there when he hit his lowest point.

But then Chrissy met her soulmate and Eddie was forced to reevaluate his whole life choices. Chrissy’s soulmate was a bassist for an all female metal band called Lilith’s Little Monsters. Georgia was a perky blonde in three inch heels and ripped denim.

That was when he realized he was gay. That liking the same gender was okay. So he went into the whole homosexuality feet first and swinging. He was so sure that the reason he hadn’t gotten his soulmate dreams yet was because he had thought it was a girl, but when Georgia came screaming into their lives at Hellfest last year, he still didn’t start receiving them.

But that was before sweet Sophie came into their life. She wasn’t a metalhead like Miranda or Georgia nor a musician like Leon, Gareth’s soulmate. Leon played violin in an alt rock band. Which was still pretty badass. He was also a bit of a bitch, but that’s what happens when your soulmate was Gareth Hughes. Sophie would absolutely be mistaken as a soccer mom and president of the PTA. She radiating wholesome vibes, which Brian absolutely needed in his life.

That his soulmate could be anyone really opened Eddie up to the endless possibilities. And fuck wasn’t that a kick in the head.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Tag List: TEN SLOTS REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #soulmate au #rockstar eddie munson #bookstore owner steve harrington

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danieyells · 4 months ago

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Since @blundering-thoughtless-hooligan pointed out that I apparently never made a post with everything pointing out that Romeo almost definitely has a prosthetic leg, here's that!

First, and probably most apparent, we have Romeo cat. His back leg is a different color, looking like it has no fur. His tail partially obscures his leg but when it moves you can see there's no foot there at all.

Second is his Nightmare Raid chibi. He wears socks, unlike everybody else--and much like Haru whose prosthetic hand is covered in black.

Third he has a home screen line that implies chronic pain in response to cold(as other people with chronic pain will surely tell you this is Very Common. On top of that Haru's looks metallic and if Romeo's is similar the cold would probably be even worse.) He also has a line about needing a "tune up" to keep his posture beautiful--arguably this could mean something like an atlas adjustment or chiropractic treatment or something, but it could also mean having his leg fixed up.

(thanks to @2flowerz for the tune up screenshot and @jadeleechsupportgroup for the cold one!)

Finally we have chapters 19 and 20 from the prologue. Kaito runs into Romeo because he's running after Lucas who's holding hands with the PC. Romeo is visibly and audibly in pain, with his voice straining. Once they're inside the main building, Kaito comments on that Romeo cannot move quickly, which means that they'll be safe in the building for a while before he catches up.

And one last small thing--Romeo wears socks with his uniform while most other characters don't. This is likely to cover up his prosthetic leg.

The fact that Shion Genkai(referred to by Taiga as "Gen") heavily damaged the casino and is the one who broke Haru's arm could arguably suggest Romeo lost his leg in the same incident. However that's not confirmed and it won't be confirmed for a while I imagine. (On that note, we probably won't get Onsen Romeo until his leg reveal, unless they keep his legs covered and obscured in the art. But I think it would be a good opportunity to have his prosthetic or his residual leg on display a bit. He'll probably wear socks like Rui in Onsen Ed's warding card though) It could easily be a wound from the Clash or he blew his leg up by accident with his stigma or from a mission or Taiga getting hungry or something.

Anyway yeah! That's what we've got so far. We'll probably get more next time we see Romeo, unless Romeo makes an appearance in the Frostheim chapter.

#romeo scorpius lucci #romeo lucci #tokyo debunker #Danie yells at tokyo debunker #tdb ref #i THOUGHT i made this post already but i can't find it so. here it is.

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athenagc94 · 2 months ago

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Dear Daddy Long Legs - Chapter 16

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

First | Prev | Next

Chapter 16

Two hours to midnight.

Two hours and nine minutes to be exact, but who was counting?

Certainly not Jason.

That left at least three hours until he saw you.

Jason knew he didn’t have to fill that time with crime or vigilante work, but the thought of sitting at one of his safehouses—alone—with his thoughts sounded as appealing as chewing on glass.

So, work it was.

He arrived outside the well-maintained townhome located east of Gotham Heights fashionably late. The homes on this block weren’t quite Wayne-level with their extensive grounds and sculpture gardens, but pretty damn close. He felt like a regular Nick Carraway rolling up to a Gatsby party which he hadn’t felt since living with Bruce.

Inside, a New Year’s Eve party was already in full swing. It made slipping inside unnoticed easier now that champagne and liquor had softened the senses. He grabbed a flute from the tray placed near the door and wove through the partygoers, each of them dressed in similar shades of beige and white. The symbolism wrote itself. He clocked every face and gun-shaped lump hidden beneath their suit coats.

Most of the guests were members of prominent mob families from across Gotham. Of course, they’d be armed to the teeth. He expected this and planned accordingly with his guns hidden beneath his ratty sports coat. No one even looked his way.

He spent the last three weeks memorizing the layout of the Riviera home for this moment. Every exit for quick getaways and every alcove for hiding. He took two laps around the first floor to ensure he had it right. A lot of planning went into the night. A lot of patience too. All that work would finally come to fruition if things ran smoothly.

Normally, he wouldn’t give two shits about the Rivieras who for the most part kept to themselves. Their dirty money came from rigging casinos to play in their favor, so Red Hood ignored them. Or at least that was the case until he learned they had intimate ties to Roman Sionis. His contacts pointed him toward the family because they apparently knew where he was and why he’d gone underground.

With the sudden rise in unsanctioned drugs on his streets, Jason had his hands full. He would prefer to be off with the Outlaws, but he had to settle things in Gotham first if he wanted a business to come back to in a few months. It was easy enough to bully Sionis into submission, but he needed to find him first.

Jason decided to drop by the party and see what he could glean off its guests. Alcohol loosened lips. Secrets were bound to come to light as the night wore on, but he knew his best chances lay with Aldo Riviera’s eldest son, Luca.

The Riviera family owned several casinos on Park Row. Hanging at Luca’s usual haunts put Jason on his radar. He took a page from Bruce’s book and played it dumb and docile at the poker table. Jason, who loved a good game of poker and was pretty good at it, had to swallow his pride and throw his hands until Luca took notice. He was the type of guy who needed to surround himself with losers to feel good about himself.

Shocker.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to pull off the pretty boy schtick like Dick or Damian, but with his slightly crooked glasses and the awkward hunch of his shoulders, Jason played the part of non-threatening lackey to perfection. Luca made nice with him and that’s how he found himself invited tonight which was… the only party he’d been invited to. Not that he didn’t have friends. They were just busy or off-world or—

Whatever.

Jason didn’t have to explain himself to anyone.

Parties were boring anyway.

He just had to make it an hour or two before Luca got too shit-faced to have a filter. It happened often enough when they hung out. Luca liked to hear himself talk. With a few pointed questions, he’d have him rambling about Sionis in no time.

“Jacob!”

Jason sighed. It would have been smarter to give Luca a different name than the one he gave you, but he already teetered on the cusp of an identity crisis without adding another fake name to his roster.

So, Jacob, it was.

He donned a timid smile and turned toward Luca. His brown hair swooped down like a stroke of ink, falling just above his eyebrows where an old scar bisected the left one. Handsome, Jason supposed, if not for his rancid personality and a smarmy smile. He sat with three other men in leather armchairs near fire in the sitting room. A pretty, young woman sat on the arm of his chair with a vacant smile that didn’t reach her eyes, his hand resting on her bare thigh.

Luca waved him over with the hand holding a flute of champagne. Jason obliged and settled in the chair closest to him. He nodded to the other three, their faces vaguely familiar, but not their names.

“Bout time you showed up. I was wonderin’ if ya would come or not.” Inebriation made his Jersey accent more pronounced.

Good, Jason thought. That would make this easier.

He let his accent deepen and said, “And miss out on all the fun? Not a chance.”

“If ya wanted real fun, we shoulda met at the casino instead. I’m itchin’ for a few games of poker to ring in the new year. My old man likes to pretend he’s distinguished with the bubblies and fancy canapes that make you hungrier than you were before ya ate them.” His lip curled as he downed his champagne like a shot. “What I’d give for a little fun. I just got back from my holiday in Spain and let me tell ya—”

And he was off.

Jason settled back in his seat while Luca went on and on about his trip and how much he didn’t want to be back in Gotham. Yeah, well, Gotham would probably be better off without him anyway.

His date stayed perched on the arm of his chair, not that Luca acknowledged her beyond that ever-present hand on her thigh. Jason stared at the Persian rug under his boots to avoid looking at them.

It wasn’t the first time Luca had used a woman as a prop, but it boiled his blood every time. Jason couldn’t wait until this was over so he could punch him into the next county for deigning to lay his hands on a woman.

Every so often, Jason pressed his flute to his lips and pretended to drink his champagne. He couldn’t remember the last time he drank for real, but now wasn’t the time to start.

Jason knew plenty of yappers. Steph was one of them, but her inane chatter was regrettably endearing and personable. Surprisingly, Damian was another, but at least his predisposition to monologue like a Bond villain was somewhat entertaining. Luca was neither endearing nor entertaining. His anecdotes quickly spiraled until they lost the plot. Jason was forced to sit back and listen as if he was some great weaver of tales.

A glass of gin quickly replaced Luca’s empty glass. When that was gone, another glass quickly replaced followed thanks to his lackeys.

His mind wandered while Luca talked. Mostly to you. Exclusively to you. Asking about your plans tonight had been spur of the moment. He figured you already had plans with Steph, and he could pretend that he wasn’t the loser with nothing going on.

But his innocent question led him to leaving you apartment with your number. You texted him an hour after he left—just to make sure it was legit. It seemed rude not to text back despite his insistence to use his number sparingly. And maybe that text turned into a handful scattered over the next few days.

Damn it. He couldn’t even follow his own rules.

Allowing himself to see you regularly should have made this wanton ache in his chest go away.

That’s what he kept telling himself, isn’t it?

First it was the letters. When the letters grew stale it was catching a glimpse of you in the crowd. Now that merely existing in your presence wasn’t scratching the itch anymore, Jason was afraid to learn what came next.

Deep down, he knew what came next. You two had already toed the line with increasingly frequent touches that left him tingly and hot, but he was hesitant to take the plunge into absolutes. You enticed him. Your feel, your smell, your taste. Jason could easily lose himself in you and that frightened him.

What happened if—when that stopped being enough too.

What you had was fine, he tried to reason with himself.

It had to fine. Jason didn’t want to rush things simply because he was too pitifully touch-starved to control himself. But that didn’t stop his mind from imagining what could be if he threw caution to the wind and went for it.

Your fingers combing through his hair, knotting in his curls.

How your lips would feel peppering along his jaw and down his neck until you reached the pulse-point and just—

His groin tightened.

Shit.

Nothing more than a slight stirring between the belt line, but it had him sitting a little straighter. Jason shifted his legs to hide whatever the fuck was going on down there, shoving thoughts of you from his mind as he tried to refocus on Luca.

Focus, he told himself, Get the information and leave.

“I can’t wait for somethin’ interestin’ to happen,” Luca continued as he swirled the contents of his glass, “Things have been quiet since I got back, and quiet ain’t cuttin’ it anymore. My old man said to be patient. Things will be gettin’ interestin’ once the new year starts.”

Jason curbed his anticipation. “Oh?”

“An old friend is makin’ a big comeback.”

Finally.

“Cobblepot?” one of his friends provided, looking quite proud of himself.

“No, dumbass. Cobblepot ain’t no friend of my old man’s,” Luca snapped. His fingers dug into his date’s thigh. She hid her discomfort with another placid smile. Jason fisted his glass, resisting the urge to break it over Luca’s head. “You didn’t hear it from me, but Sionis is planning his comeback. What with Hood bullyin’ him all the time, he decided to work from the shadows for a few months, offerin’ a breadcrumb here or there to keep the fucker off his track.”

Jason chewed the inside of his cheek. “Did he?”

“Yeah, and the sucker fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.” Luca took a sip of his gin with a triumphant smile. He acted as if he’d been the one to best Red Hood. If only he knew the company kept, he might not look so smug.

The warehouse, the cartel, the threads that all seemed to lead to dead ends had been purposeful. Jason had been pulling his hair out trying to connect them to something relevant, and now he knew why nothing made sense.

Black Mask was fucking with him.

Pretty ballsy for a man who wasn’t immune to bullet holes.

“Hood’s going to find out,” another guy said, clearly put off by the prospect of getting on his shit list.

“And when he does, he’ll be pissed. No offense but Sionis gets his ass handed to him when Hood decides to—”

Luca threw his gin on the ground, silencing the contrarians with shattered glass and the stink of liquor. The others sank back in their seats, quaking while Jason stared at his feet with a frown.

“Hood can’t be everywhere at once. Not even his connections can help him here. Hell, I don’t even think the Bats know what he has up his sleeve. He’ll be the terror that sweeps through Crime Alley, through all of Gotham.”

Jason snorted.

“Somethin’ funny ‘bout that, Jacob?”

He quickly masked it with a cough. “N-Not at all.”

“Didn’t think so.” His attention fell to the shattered remains of his glass. “Look what you fuckers made me do. Now, I need another drink.”

So, close, and yet so far.

Black Mask was on the move, but Jason needed more than that before he could plan. If Sionis wanted to play games, he was more than happy to do the same. Jason loved a good game, especially if it meant he could be petty. Spite was the only thing that kept him going some days.

Jason shoved out of his chair before he ripped off the hand that remained steadfast on his date's thigh. He’d like to see Luca try to use a woman with bloody stumps for hands.

“I’ll grab you something. Gotta piss anyway.”

There was a bathroom down the hall, second door on the right. He blew past it, flexing his fingers to expel the pent-up rage that simmered beneath his skin. This was why he hated going undercover. It was easier to point a gun in someone’s face until they pissed themselves with fear.

No one noticed as he slipped into the drawing room where Aldo Riviera entertained more prominent members of Gotham’s underbelly near the large bay window that overlooked the street. Luca resembled the patriarch with his square jaw and hooded eyes, albeit a lot younger and without the potbelly hanging over the waist of his jeans. Aldo puffed on a cigar, filling the room with a smoky haze that softened his vision.

Jason decided to take a lap or two to see if someone else knew something before he headed back for another round of meandering story time.

“...operation ruined thanks to the Bat...”

“...the one with the sword...clean off...”

“...fuckers are out during the day now too...”

He ground his teeth and moved on. So much for that plan. He left the drawing room and ducked between two large curio cabinets in the narrow corridor to steel himself for another chance at teasing information from Luca.

Midnight could not come soon enough.

From the corner of his eye, he registered a figure as they passed, paused, and doubled back. A platter of delicately crafted canapes came into his line of sight “Did you want one?”

He startled, rattling the items in the cabinet. he managed to catch to steady it before something broke.

That voice.

It couldn’t be...

You said you had to work.

Oh, God, you were a server for a catering company.

His stomach flipped as he looked up to meet your gaze. The faint quirk to your lips betrayed what he already suspected.

“Well, if it isn’t the elusive Mr. Darcy.”

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A/N: Let the chaos begin! I am very excited about sharing this next arc with you guys. I think you will (hopefully) leave it with more than crumbs :)

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#writing #fanfiction #jason todd #jason todd x reader #batman #red hood #red hood x reader #x reader #dear daddy long legs fic #ao3 fanfic #fanfic

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superblysubpar · 10 months ago

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<- part six | part eight -> | series masterlist

chapter summary: No more bets.

the song: Read Your Mind by Sabrina Carpenter

also for your listening pleasure: Girl Can't Help It by Journey, Open Your Heart by Madonna, U Got The Look by Prince, and The Lady in Red by Chris de Burgh

5,328 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / brief descriptions of scars-previous head injury / SPICE/SMUT - really just some dirty talk and a teensiet tiniest start to oral (reader receiving) | my blog is 18+

Hawkins, Indiana - the past

His hand was in yours, and then it wasn’t.

“Well, well, well,” a voice sneered in front of you as you blinked at the boy who just dropped your hand at the sound of it. “What do we have here, Stevie?”

A group of boys around your age leaned against a falling apart fence just outside of the ride, eyes surveying you up and down, then looking at Steve Harrington standing next to you. The leader of the pack a face full of freckles and a grin that made your stomach unsettled when he pointed it at you and took a step forward.

“I’m Tommy, and you,” he grinned wider, like if he showed off more teeth, he’d placate you into thinking you enjoyed his company, “Well, you must be new to Hawkins. Think I’d remember a face like yours.”

“Knock it off Hagan,” Steve grit out of his teeth, a fist clenched at his side.

“I’m…I’ll…” you stuttered out at the boy named Tommy, backing away and looking at Steve as you did. “It was…I’ll see you around?”

You scrambled away from the boys as Steve took a step towards you, but Tommy’s voice rang out, making his head turn.

“Does Harrington have a little girlfriend? Gonna share all the juicy details with us, Stevie?”

“What? No!” He answered too quickly, cheeks pink, no longer looking at you. “She’s just some stupid girl, I got stuck with her on the ferris wheel…”

You didn’t stick around to hear more, swiping at your wet cheeks with the back of your hand.

Glittery green and gold smeared across it, freshly smudgable after Steve Harrington held your hand until it was over.

A house on Cornwallis Street - Sunday

Your hands shifted on the steering wheel, even though the car was in park. Clammy and shaking as you rubbed them on your denim shorts and took a deep breath. With your window rolled down you couldn’t help but smile at the sound of Journey coming from the backyard, the large splash that followed the shout of ‘Don’t you dare Henderson!’. Peals of laughter and the distinct smell of something grilling only added to elements encouraging you to join them.

But you were still sitting in your car.

You didn’t question it, when after the party last night, Eddie didn’t drive you home, but to the shop, dangling your keys in front of a shocked face as he proclaimed it was finally fixed.

“But…I didn’t pay you, I thought you couldn’t…”

Eddie had waved you off and smiled, “I’ve been working a lot.” He dropped the keys in your lap and grinned wider, “Besides, Harringon’ll be paying me three hundred bucks tomorrow.”

You looked down at your thighs, thinking about who’s hands had just been pushing them apart a few minutes ago as Eddie quietly probed, “Right?”

“Of course.” You nodded, telling yourself that technically you and Eddie had won the bet.

Nobody had slept with anyone.

Which is what you tell yourself again as you take another deep, bravery seeking breath and step out of your car.

Each step on the sidewalk then up the driveway is a little easier, your chest feeling a little lighter as the laughter and music only gets louder.

But then you see the sign.

The same color of the suit you have in your bag.

The same color he told you he can’t concentrate when you wear it.

Bright, bold, outlining four white letters.

SOLD.

You’re still looking at it when the door swings open, Robin greeting you, dripping wet from the pool and a slice of watermelon in her hand.

“Finally! I’m outnumbered, and Max is too busy canoodling with Lucas and I need more girl power!”

She grabs your arm and pulls you into the Harrington’s foyer as a louder call of, “I told you, as soon as Lucas apologizes for what he did-“

“And I told you, that I cannot apologize for something if I don’t know what I’m apologizing for!”

The pair walk out of a room on one side of the foyer as they argue, Max mumbling under her breath as they exit your sights and into the den.

“You know exactly what you did.”

Robin rolls her eyes and points up the stairs, “This downstairs bathroom is all packed up and,” she makes quotes with her fingers around the watermelon as she recites, “ ‘It’s cleaned and if any of you idiots fuck it up, you’re dead’ , but there’s one by Steve’s room, change and come help me seek vengeance on the boys!”

She’s gone as fast as she arrived, the silence of the house now overpowering, but at least it gives you space to take a moment to breathe and collect your thoughts.

Steve’s moving.

Why didn’t he tell you?

Your fingers glide on the wood banister as you climb the stairs, something sitting heavy in your gut from the more important question that’s gnawing at you.

Why does it matter that he didn’t?

Once you find the bathroom, your fingers tug on red nylon and strings. The suit you rummaged around for in your drawer this morning pointing out the glaringly obvious answer. It matters he didn’t tell you because-

It was a good suit, that was the only reason why it was picked for today.

Not because of where you were wearing it.

Not because of the boy who lived there.

Because he definitely still does live there, at least for the time being.

It’s easy to spot his room when you exit the bathroom, bare feet padding across hard woods as you tug the hem of your white tshirt over your hips a little lower. Worried you shouldn’t be walking around the house so uncovered despite the fact that you’re about to be even more so outside in the pool, when you catch your reflection in the mirror above his dresser.

The room is in shambles, half packed you assume. Boxes open, and only half filled, litter the floor, the white plaid wallpapered walls bare, whatever hung on the nails left behind now packed away. Your fingers linger on the top of the dresser, thumb catching on his watch, a Polaroid of him and Robin, the worn brown leather of his wallet. A tight squeeze pulls at something in your chest when the slip of paper with the name ‘Brit’ and a heart shifts beneath it.

You can’t help but wonder if he called that number that night like he said he would.

Wonder if he took her out to a movie, held her hand, let everyone know that Steve Harrington was on a date with her.

Your bag drops on his bed that’s unmade with sheets that match the walls as you wonder if she was here too. As you wonder how many other girls have been in this room, this bed.

A loud shout outside, just below his window makes you jump, pulling you out of the spiral of doubt you’ve fallen into and down the stairs.

The cream carpet is plush beneath your bare feet, the framed photos are gone, the desk as well, so nothing stands between you and the sliding glass doors out to the pool.

It’s a different view than the last time you were here. The bright turquoise littered with even brighter inflatables and swimsuits. It’s warm, it’s light, it’s loud, as bodies splash in it and compete with the radio playing top hits for the loudest thing. Eddie’s shaking his curls out back and forth all over Robin who’s shrieking and running past him.

The thought of stepping outside and arriving late has you turning into the kitchen, searching for something your hands can fiddle with before joining the party.

Which is how Steve Harrington’s lungs finally give out, and he dies.

He knows he’s not actually dying, but he’s sure that the process has to feel eerily similar to this.

He rounded the corner to find his fridge door opened, the glow of the interior light silhouetting around your curves hidden under a white shirt making his breath stutter in his chest. And as you bend at the waist, red fabric cut high and only climbing higher, reveals the perfect swell of your ass and his lungs fail to function, like one’s collapsing because he’s been shot, or he’s taking on water and they don’t know to expel the air anymore.

“Jesus Christ.”

It slips out of him much like the yelp the words startle out of you, the shoot up of your body involuntary, causing your head to smack into the top of the fridge and a litany of curses to tumble out of your lips.

Steve rushes over as you hold your head and spin, blinking and looking dizzy.

“Shit, shit, sorry.” He’s across the room in seconds, hands cupping your cheeks and tilting you gently while his eyes focus on your forehead, inspecting. He frowns and moves to the left slightly, towards the sink, though he leaves one of his hands in contact with your skin.

The furrow of his brow deepens as he dampens a towel and you try to breathe out of your nose and in with your mouth so you don’t focus on how his normal smell is stronger with his shirt off and mixed with sunscreen and chlorine that clings to his skin. Skin that shines with a sheen from each, that’s somehow not gross, but tantalizing. So much of that skin on display revealing more freckles than you can fathom counting. Skin that looks more tan from the dark chest hair curled against it or the swim trunks that sit low on his hips.

Steve looks at you with raised eyebrows and you realize he’s asked a question and you absolutely didn’t hear it.

“Um,” you swallow, your tongue taking up too much room in your mouth, “Wh-what?”

Steve’s lips twitch as he stands fully in front of you again, damp cloth raised as he whispers, “Something distracting you, honey?”

Your throat has something stuck in it, and no amount of clearing it seems to fix the problem. You focus on the freckle just to the left of his lips instead of his smug eyes as you admit, “Can’t concentrate when you wear that color.”

The reward of his low laugh and smile has you wondering if someone hand sculpted his lips and cupid’s bow.

“I’ll be sure to wear it every chance I get just to torture you then,” he murmurs while fingers adjust your chin into the light. Your back rests against the center island, legs sandwiched between his spread ones so he can raise the cloth to your skin, apologizing with his eyes as he tacks on, “Only fair, since you woke up and decided evil today.”

The damp material of his swim trunks sends a shiver up your spine when it hits your thighs, and your hands grab his waist in a wince when the cloth makes contact with your still fairly fresh head wound. You’re in a staring contest with a gold chain around his neck as you fib, “This is the only swimsuit I own. Just happens to be red.”

Steve finishes with your forehead, but two fingers curl under your chin and lift so you have to look at him as he speaks through a smirk.

“You’re pretty cute when you lie.”

“Come on Steve,” you whisper, fingers curling into his hips without thought, “You’re better than cheesy lines and rookie moves like this. Besides, the bet’s over. We can go back to hating each other now.”

He shakes his head, nose bumping yours as he does and he exhales, “Never hated you.”

Your swallow is loud as he leans closer, one hand on your hip and fingers playing with the so to speak fire of the strings holding your suit together as you offer, “Despised?”

Another shake of his head, another step closer so your lower halves are pressed together and your eyelashes are fluttering. Your head falls back with a gasp as his mouth trails along your jaw, hot breath and wet lips against it as you stutter out, “De-detest?”

He responds into your skin, just below your ear, something that sounds like the word, “Never.”

His name leaves you breathlessly as his tongue lightly licks down the side of your neck, lips following in a delicate brush.

“Steve-”

He hums into your collar, nose dragging around the curve of it while your hands grip his sides. “Stop saying my name like that honey, or I’m gonna get down on my knees and make you say it much,” he nips at your earlobe, “Much, louder.”

The space between your legs throbs, thighs push even tighter together at the thought of Steve’s mouth there.

“Steve,” you scold, cheeks warm, body even more so in all the places it touches his.

“Baby,” he groans, nose knocking your cheek, “What did I just say?”

He starts to lower himself, hands drifting so too, on the outside of your thighs. Brushing bare skin and aching to push it further, cup your ass and roll your hips against his. Especially when your fingers hold his jaw in place so he has to look at you. Only slightly distracted by how kissable your lips are as they say, “You’re moving.”

Steve shakes his head no and you laugh again and he wonders how many more times he can make that sound come out of you.

“Harrington, there’s literally a sold sign in your front yard.”

He leans in closer, unable to resist the chance to taste your lips again, to feel their lingering sting against them all day. He’s got this insane thought that he wishes you were wearing lipstick, so it could be smeared against him, marking up his mouth and neck, shit, even his dick, so everyone knows he’s yours, it’s yours.

“You worried I’m gonna be too far away?” He somehow manages to ask through the fog of images of your lips surrounding his cock, big eyes blinking at him as you-

“I’m actually worried it isn’t far enough,” you swallow around the tight feeling in your chest.

His forehead knocks yours, hands squeeze your waist and then climb higher on your curves as he tsks, “Even cuter. You gotta quit lying baby.” But he relents some of the upperhand, the thought of you being worried about him leaving making him admit, “I’m crashing at Robin’s for a bit. And we’re trying to save up for a place together.”

“Oh,” you nod, distracted by the way his nose traces the bridge of yours, how his eyelashes flutter and the freckles on his cheeks stand out more from a morning in the sun as he does. “Th-that’s good.”

“Yeah?” The corner of his lips rising in a smile making them brush yours.

“Mhm,” you hum, “So you can take Brit on that date still.”

“Who?” He blinks, cheeks turning pink as your fingers scrape up his stomach and through his chest hair.

“Brit,” your eyebrows raise, “Smells like peaches, and giggles and dots her eyes with hearts? The picture perfect girl to take out around town and proudly hold hands with?”

“Again,” Steve leans the few centimeters closer, whispering against your lips, “Who?”

You push at his chest, as much as it pains you to do so, needing the distance from the intoxicating mouth that smells like mint and lemonade. But

Steve remains strong in his position, fingers curl around your ear and hold your neck in place gently as he speaks like each word might spook you into running.

“I’m staying in Hawkins. I have no idea who you’re talking about. The bet is over. Can you stop being so stubborn and let me kiss you like I’ve been wanting to since we were twelve?”

Your heart rumbles low and slow, like thunder rolling in, it cracks in your chest like lightening hit it. Every ounce of your body is buzzing, like the strike tore your body in two. One part that can’t believe you’re hearing him say it and another that wants to run even though you know it doesn’t strike the same place twice. The fear of being caught in the storm with no way out has you stalling.

“Ask me nicely.”

Steve laughs, and you wonder how you never noticed how much you like making that sound bubble out of him.

Or how much you like the way he licks his lips before he says something important.

“Please,” he murmurs against your mouth, “Can I kiss you?”

Your lips part the same time a shriek calls from the den, “Steve! The food is burning!”

He curses under his breath, hand grabbing yours as he pulls you through the kitchen and into the den.

His frown only grows as the smell of burning food does when the two of you exit the sliding door. He tugs you with him across the warm pavement of the patio, the cool summer breeze has goosebumps arriving on your legs as he shouts at the curly haired boy fanning a smoking grill.

“Henderson! You had one fucking job, man! These aren’t just burning they’re-“

“Scorched,” Lucas supplies around a cough, smacking the air with his hat.

“Torched,” Mike pipes up, squinting and pinching his nose closed.

“Dead,” El delivers morosely.

Will snorts and covers his mouth and Max mutters under her breath, “Imbeciles.”

But then she’s smiling at you.

Then they’re all smiling at you, even Eddie and Robin who stand just beyond them, staring at Steve and yours intertwined hands.

The attention on it makes your hand feel too heavy in his and you go to slip it out, but Steve only squeezes it tighter, waving his other at them, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer. Now get lost, or I’m not making more and you can eat these disgusting things.”

The “kids” take off and Steve turns to you, thumb swiping over the back of your hand, cheeks pink and swallowing loudly. “Um, about my really nicely asked question that was rudely-“

“Yes.”

The just as interrupted response stuns him as much as it does you. But when he smiles, and takes your cheeks in both of his hands, and leans in slowly, you’re sure the answer was the right one, the storm clouds dissipate, the threat of another crack gone.

This kiss, is like rain.

The good kind of rain. Slow. Steady. Steve’s lips capture yours sure, calmly, breathing out just as the pair of his mold around your top one. He holds them through an exhale against your cheek as your hands fall to his chest naturally. You can feel the thud of his heart beneath your palm as his mouth parts to do it again, deeper, stronger. Each beat against your skin the rain hitting a window until it’s so natural, so steady, it’s a simple background noise.

It’s only when loud whoops and whistles break the calm that you hear yours in your ears and feel his heart again, the calm disrupted. Your cheeks warm beneath his palms as he kisses you again, a chaste and over too quick peck around a smile.

That pesky thing is still stuck in your throat, suddenly unsure how limbs and words and human things work anymore. You stumble a step back and trip on a pool noodle when your stomach flutters with a swarm of butterflies intent on trying to escape. He catches your waist before you fall as you gesture to the water, “Alright, well, that pool’s not gonna swim in itself.”

Steve smiles, but he narrows his eyes, squeezing at the outside of your thighs, “Honey, I thought we were done being mean to each other.”

Your eyes blink at him, confused, butterflies constructing a roller-coaster in your stomach now as well, as you ask, “How is me swimming being mean?”

“Kissing me like that then parading around in a little red bikini?” He swallows as his fingers play with the strings of said suit, whispering, “Mean. Incorrigible, baby.”

This feels surreal, his hands on you, calling you baby while your friends are only a few feet away and absolutely watching. Even more so when you whisper, “Big brain word.”

Steve taps your chin, lifting it as he asks, “What’s my prize?”

Looking into Steve’s, Buttercup’s description of Westley’s eyes being like the sea after a storm can’t help but float through your mind. But Steve’s are a lot more like the forest after one. Wet and darkened earth soaking up all it was just given, richer in color and waiting to be explored.

“What do you want?”

Steve grins, his mouth parts, but then you’re both being drenched with water, two buckets dumped over your heads as you shout in protest against the cold.

Robin and Max yell something about the fire in the kitchen being too hot and they needed to put it out as they run away from you both with laughter.

You peel off the white shirt that clings to your body now as you mumble something about payback. Steve groans at the reveal of your body in only the suit. It’s easy to look over your shoulder as you walk away from him and ask, “Tell me later?”

Even easier to shove a grinning Eddie towards the pool as you walk past and mumble, “Shut up.”

He grips at your shoulder as he flails, pulling you in with him, your double splash drowning out your shriek and the beginning of Madonna’s Open Your Heart booming out of the stereo.

When you resurface, swiping water from your eyes and laughing, you turn to find Steve again and aren’t surprised when he’s already looking at you. Your arms rest on the ledge when you swim up to the side and mock his voice, calling up to him.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer!”

He sticks his tongue out at you as you laugh and swim away, but he can’t help but wonder where he packed his Polaroid, and if he can get you alone long enough to snap several his eyes only photos.

He’s still thinking it, later, as the sun inches closer to the other side of the sky, and you’re relaxed on a lounger next to Robin.

Eyes hidden from him behind sunglasses, hands resting on your stomach, brushing back and forth over your skin as you roll your neck.

Prince’s U Got The Look fills the now much quieter backyard, the kids all having disappeared under the excuse of getting movie snacks and a video rental from Keith an hour ago. Robin’s voice interrupts the lyrics with, “How much you wanna bet they’re at the arcade and they aren’t coming back with the snacks?”

You groan and sit up, “No more bets. But,” a sigh leaves you, “Yeah. I’ll go order a pizza? Steve’s got a billion contraband rental’s downstairs too. I’m sure there’s something halfway decent in there.”

“Ha-ha,” he says dryly, watching you stretch has him sinking lower in the pool so only his eyes show. He squeezes them shut when your top slips just a smidge higher as your arms raise, the curve of each breast peeking out from the bottom and giving him a heart attack.

He’s certain that’s exactly what’s happening when he opens them to find you slipping your white shirt on. Only it’s not your white shirt.

It’s his.

Steve watches the collar linger on your nose, then slip over your chin as you smile at him and hook your thumb over your shoulder, “I’m - phone…pizza.” Stumbling over your words and shuffling towards the house quickly.

He waits exactly sixty seconds before he’s swimming towards the ladder and climbing out. Eddie’s voice taunts from the tube he’s floating in, with his arms behind his head, even with closed eyes he looks smug, “And where are you going?”

“To…help. With the calling for pizza.” He towels off quickly, Robin snorts and Eddie makes a booing sound.

Robin calls from her lounger, “Don’t say we never did anything for you, Dingus!”

Steve slides the glass door on their snickering, the house quiet and much cooler than the Summer outside. He glances in the kitchen, the hallway, searching for you, when he hears a creak upstairs.

He finds you in his room, in his shirt still, sunglasses pushed onto the top of your head as you sift through a bag and pull out a pair of denim shorts.

“Hi,” he whispers, when you look up at him.

“Hey,” you smile, voice quiet too, “Why are we whispering?”

“I-“ he starts quiet and clears his throat, returning to a normal volume, “I don’t know. Guess I thought if I spoke too loud I might wake up from this great dream.”

The grin spreads on your lips and you shake your head, “Wow. That’s bad, even for you, Steve.”

He takes a few steps towards you as you continue to shake your head with a smile, only stopping when he asks, “Say my name again? Please?”

Steve takes the shorts from your hands, dropping them on the ground as you murmur, gently, “Steve.”

His tongue darts over his bottom lip before he says, “Can I tell you what I want for a prize now?”

You’re only able to manage a small, “Mhm,” between pressed together lips as your hands sweat and your stomach burns, and your chest constricts while his fingers toy with the strings of your swimsuit bottoms.

He kisses you, slowly, licking out over the seam of your lips until you open for him. His hands guide you backwards gently until he’s climbing over your body on his bed and Prince’s voice fades into Chris de Burgh’s.

His body presses against yours, weight heavy and making your eyelids flutter as his hand cups your cheek, then traces your shoulder, the curve of your breast down to your hip. Your stomach burns with want, fingers dig into his hair as he releases your lips and kisses your chin, your chest through his shirt. He only travels lower, pushing it up and kissing your stomach, along the seam of your suit. Your legs rise on either side of his head, fingers leaving his hair to curl into his sheets that surround you and fill the space with a cedar and mint haze.

“St-steve,” you hiccup as he nips at the inside of your thigh.

He moans, palms pressing you open wider, mouth leaving a wet and hot trail of kisses and breaths up each leg. This wasn’t the plan, he wanted to take it slow, but he can’t help it anymore. He speaks into your stomach, kissing your skin between every few words.

“Baby, please, can I taste you?” His fingers tug on the strings of your suit and his vision blurs when you make a sound that sounds like a whine and roll your hips, searching. He’s gone fully blind as you tug on his hair again, drunk off of you without a single taste.

“Yeah? Gonna let me put my mouth on you?” He noses at your cunt through the suit, dragging it up against the fabric, babbling anything that comes to his mind without a filter. “That what you want, honey? To come all over my tongue?”

Your palms press to the bed as you sit up, fingers tugging at the mess of brown waves between your thighs when his tongue licks over your suit.

Your mouth parts in a gasp, eyes fluttering from the barely there friction, the minimal release of the tension you’ve felt since the kitchen downstairs hours ago.

Steve looks up at the sound and nearly comes in his shorts, the image of your dazed eyes and pouting lips, the heave of your chest under his shirt having him really thinking about where his camera is again.

“Oh,” his voice falls into a teasing lilt, playing with his food before he eats it, “Look at you. You’re already fucked dumb and I haven’t done a thing.”

Your body is engulfed in flames at the taunting words, somehow turned on and irritated in the same sentence.

A Steve Harrington special skill, you think.

He curses the words almost immediately after they leave him, thinking he’s pushed it too far too fast but then you’re saying his name like that again, saying the word please so softly, so sincerely, his vision goes white and scratchy like the tape of all of his abilities to think clearly was just ejected from his brain.

Steve sits up with a groan, backing away from the bed with the shake of his head.

“You’re trouble,” he rasps, breathing heavily from across the room, back against his dresser.

“What’s wrong?” The mood shift jarring and making your legs close, your arms cross over your chest in a hug, wondering what you did.

“This,” he says then immediately waves his hands, “No, not like that! I-“ he cuts himself off with another groan, a hand swipes through his hair only making it messier. You clench around nothing at the wild hair, the pink cheeks, the dark chest hair and tan skin as he paces.

“I wanna-“ he starts.

“Harrington! Quit making out up there and bring down some of what I gave you! I’m tapped and the pizza guy’s here.”

Steve curses and he spins on his dresser, grabbing his wallet.

His wallet.

Bring down some of what I gave you.

His shoulders hunch as he swears again, “Those…brats. I swear to god I’m gonna kill them.”

He spins to find you yanking your shorts on, muttering, “I cannot believe I fucking fell for this.”

“Fell for…what are you talking about?” Steve steps closer and you back up quickly, waving your hand at him.

“Save it.”

He watches you storm out of the room, confused, and then looks down at the wallet and quickly rushes out after you, “No, no, no, honey it’s not-“

“Don’t,” you spin on the stairs, voice icy, “Call me honey.”

Steve takes another step down, pleading with his eyes as Eddie, Robin, and a stranger stand in the foyer, blinking up at the two of you. “Eddie didn’t give me money for that. He…” his hand swipes through his hair again, tongue over his lip as he lowers his voice, “Can we please go somewhere else to talk about this?”

Your arms cross and Steve sighs.

“He gave me money…for a different bet. Sort of bet. Bet is a bad word for it.”

Something rumbles in your chest once more, though no storm was forecasted, you should have known there was bound to be more.

Steve’s lips pout as he waves his hand while explaining in a ramble, “After the bet started, I told them how much I actually liked you. And they agreed to help me. And if I got you to actually give me a chance, with their help of course, Eddie’d pay for a real date and Robin would cover our shifts when we went.”

The explanation should be sweet, but all you can focus on is that Steve didn’t just have the guts to tell you right away. That your friends all helped manipulate you and lied. You start to wonder if the power even went out, if Eddie knew Steve would be at that party, if Robin put In Your Eyes on on purpose, the diner, your car being busted - all of it.

What was real between you and Steve, and what was made with movie magic?

The storm cracks in your chest, letting the first drops fall down your cheeks.

“I have to get out of here.”

The calls of your name and his steps behind you on the stairs ignored as your vision blurs.

Leaving a boy standing in a yard on Cornwallis street while you disappear without your shoes again.

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#superbly subpar's writing #BICFTF #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington series #steve harrington fic #cw injury mention

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6feathered6siren6 · 3 months ago

Note

waitt js thought of something , KC X a reader that's ACTUALLY a serial killer ? ?

Hidden in plain sight

Authors note: I promise I am still here, I got sick in the past couple days(and still sick) but I finally finished this piece. So sorry I didn't finish this a while ago when you requested, but I got stumped midway through, I also feel I didn't write well enough for it but here it is. I got a few more story drafts I'm finishing up(mafia kc au, the next chapter of constantly looping, a Misaki x florist reader, and the KC cast as the spiderverse.) So I have more to publish soon! (This is kinda hinted of Ronin x reader but can be viewed platonic as well)

Trigger warnings

Killing

Blood

Breaking and entering

Money was always an issue, making sure whatever debt you have left is paid for, taking shady deals or assassin missions. Whatever to pay for it, it was worth it. To pay that debt your family left you. Having multiple jobs run you dry at times, but you have a main job, as a journalist. It was a bright and joyful passion, finally getting a job that was normal…

But on the other side, your ‘other job’ wasn’t getting many hits lately. Either way, most of your clients don’t need the bodies, so you take it, and sell the parts to people, at least you get decent money from it. A bit more cash in your wallet. A bit more into freedom.

One thing you didn’t expect was to join a server full of killers, and oddly enough, one was already hunting you down. K9, or V was hunting you down for killing a person you were contacted to kill, without knowing it’s you. Goreboy, or Ronin, doesn’t think you are, which is fine, you don’t care. Misaki totally thinks you are but not in the sense of what type of killer you are, or Angel becoming great friends with you. You helped Luca and Feli start dating. It was a sweet home-ish feeling from the server.

–

You got a new kill mission from someone, they wanted an ex gone, and left the body to you, about 6 grand from the client and about 200 grand from the body. Not a bad payout, but they want the victim’s neck to be sliced open with a bloody message for the homewrecker.

Looking up from your phone, you saw where the to-be victim lives. Nice place as well, a home, an expensive car, even the lawn is well-kept. A typical cover up story for the gruesome truth that lies inside. Sighing, you walked in, the ex never locked the doors, trusting the easy hackable security system to protect them.

Easy job, easy money. Warm red liquid stains your hands as you write the exact words your client wants. ‘Fuck you Wench’. Taking a couple photos and sending it to the client, job done and money sent to your bank account. Now, picking up the body and taking it along with you. Each piece was important and is worth a lot. Spending a few hours cutting the body, storing it, then off to celebrate with a little food adventure on what fast food place is open at midnight was left on tonight's todo list.

Carrying a body just to see Ronin in an alleyway? Now, that was nothing on your list of tonight’s todo list. The body drips blood from your arms while he looks at you, a bit in shock before laughing.

“Now this is a treat before the devil’s eyes. A devine fallen from grace, but from how long ago?” His crowbar was soiled with blood, dripping from it. Seems fresh as well. Must have just killed someone.

You were still in a state of shock, this was the first time someone caught you. How are you supposed to react to this? Like, laugh it off and walk away, or say something about the weather? “Hehe… he… I- uhmm… I’m gonna go back to work.”

Before taking a step away, he interrupts you, “Hey, stay right there.”

Fuck.

When you looked back at him, he was right there, right in front of you. His smirk felt like poison, controlling you to stay there. “So what’s the story? Someone who pissed you off?”

The body in your hands was getting colder, and it was losing blood. “No, just a hitman. I kill and get money, now you have a story, can I leave?”

He raised an eyebrow, “And they want the body? Damn, Misaki wasn’t commissioned to bring a dead body back to their client before. You must be special.”

You felt the hot air flow out of your nose, you were getting annoyed, you needed to get home. “No, I just sell the parts.”

His smile turned sinister, “Selling body parts? Damn, did not expect that one.” He looked proud, that you aren’t some innocent writer as he thought, but a killer, sinful like the rest of them.

“I’m leaving, I’m losing money standing here.” You stepped away from him, you can’t joke with him nor play around. You need to go, the parts in the body can go bad soon. As you started walking away, you noticed Ronin following you. He still had his smirk on his face. “What are you doing?”

“Following you, Darlin’.” He said, like some kid who found the candy store, “I want to know how deep you are, how corrupted you are. How the innocent writer become a killer?”

“So curiosity? That’s making you follow me?” You said, the street lights were getting dimmer as you walked further in the alleys. You know these alleys like the back of your hand, so maneuvering through them was easy in the dark.

“Sure, let’s call it that.” He continues to follow you through the alleys, looking around, like he’s gonna memorize the way to your place. You sighed, you don’t care anymore, you need these parts as good as they can be at the moment to sell them, and if entertaining Ronin is on tonight’s todo list, it doesn’t matter now.

–

Ronin was in your place, heck, in the room where you butcher the corpses. You were slicing the body open, and he watched, he was enjoying you pulling each organ out, but more carefully than he liked. But it was a show to him.

You finally got everything done, everything was into bags and containers ready to be sold. You peeled off your bloody gloves and apron, putting them onto the counter. Ronin was clapping as he looked at the containers and bags, impressed.

“Are you going to leave now? You had your show, Ronin.” You crossed your arm, you were hungry now. You wanted to eat something, then pass out. You have work in the morning and it’s already late.

“Come on, Darlin’? Pushing me away already? Here I thought I can at least treat you for the show you presented to me.”

“I’m not going out to kill someone else.”

He chuckled as he walked closer to place his arm around your shoulders, dragging you with him. “Nah. Let’s get some food.” He pushed you out of your butcher room, making you walk ahead. “Go and change, you can’t show how sinful you have been tonight.” He winked as you rolled your eyes.

“You make it sound like… Y’know what, nevermind.” You started walking away toward your room. Not seeing Ronin taking a few pictures of the butchered man, he was so going to show the rest of the server that the enigma of the server was like them. Not a lair.

–

#/killer_shit

Thought i should Share who I caught

[picture showing the butcher room with containers full of body parts]

[another picture of you holding the body, surprised at Ronin]

Never thought to Catch a Killer

NO WAY!!!

READER!!

wait…

RONIN WERE YOU IN THEIR PLACE!?!?

<u/n>

RONIN WTF?!

Sorry darlin

Had to show the Others

Since you kept It from Us

The cuts look well done, and very carefully. You know your stuff, Reader!

<K9>

…

Don’t worry, batman

they are a contracted killer

Earning money from their kills and the corpses they sell

GASP, READER!!

HOW COME YOU DIDN’T TELL ME >:(

we could be buddies complaining about clients T^T

Well, there goes that secret, but you were glad they didn't ask why you were making the money for. That’s for another day in your opinion. Right now, you are gonna enjoy the food Ronin treated you and sleep, you have a morning meeting.

#killer chat #killerchat #fanfic #gender neutral reader #killer chat ronin #killer chat vn #ronin killer chat #x reader #ronin beaufort #cc x reader #ronin x reader

113 notes · View notes

stevie-petey · 2 years ago

Text

episode two: the weirdo on maple street

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp. “Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your review sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

Summary: you use your limited psych knowledge to help a bald girl, you force jonathan to accept $20 and he's later an ass to you, steve doesn't know what a "missing" poster looks like, and it's really hard being a single mother to now four kids.

Rating: general, but there's cursing as usual and steve being... well, steve - but hes still season 1 steve so give him some time

Warnings: cursing, fem!reader, use of y/n, and there's more angst in this chapter with some fighting between reader and jonathan, so fair warning.

Words: 10.1k (the longest thing ive ever written)

Before you swing in: i'm almost done with chapter 4, so here's a sweet treat as i cram for exams lmao. some housekeeping: should i do a tag list ? i got a few questions about it, so pls let me know soldiers. also, i feel the need to clarify that i adore nancy but for plot reasons - reader and her don't really get along (but they def will later, trust me). season 1 nancy and steve are just so silly. anyways, i hope y'all enjoy this loooong chapter. the rest definitely aren't as lengthy due to plot, but wow. i amazed myself. carry on !

Your jeans drip onto the Wheeler’s carpet, and you’ve definitely left a wet imprint on the couch cushion beneath you. The other boys are dripping as well, but all their attention is on the girl in front of them.

After finding her in the woods, your motherly instincts kicked in, immediately removing your coat to place on her and gently ushering her to your bike and demanding that the boys go back to Mike’s. Your mom is home, so your house was out of the question, and it’s always been easy sneaking into the Wheeler’s, anyways.

Once you all had made it back, you guided the girl onto the couch and sat next to her. You refuse to let her go too far from you, having no idea where she came from or why, but regardless you know she’s too young for any of it to have been good.

Which leads you to now: wearily watching the boys stare at the girl as if she’s some science experiment, asking her a million questions a second.

Bless them and their little prepubescent minds.

Lucas reaches out to touch her, and before you can nudge him away, Mike slaps at his hand. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!” Lucas retaliates, which honestly? That’s fair. The girl hasn’t said anything yet, even after your multiple attempts to get her to do so. No matter how much you try, you can’t coax a response out of her.

“I bet she’s deaf.” Your brother offers, suddenly clapping his hands to scare her, making both you and her flinch. “Not deaf…”

You roll your eyes at him. “Guys, she’s probably just really scared right now. We should give her some space,” you look at both Lucas and Dustin, “and time,” now you look at Mike. The three boys deflate a bit.

“She’s probably cold,” Mike says after a moment of silence, and you nod at his suggestion. Seeing your agreement, he walks over to a basket of clothes and takes out some pajamas.

While Mike is away, thunder rumbles and the girl jumps, unconsciously getting closer to you. You wrap an arm around her reassuringly, making note that she doesn’t like loud noises. If anything, she’s showing more and more signs of trauma response, which makes you uneasy. You remember Hopper saying something about Will being in danger. What are the odds that this little girl was running from something as well?

“Here, these are clean.” Mike’s return breaks you from your thoughts, and you take the clothes from him and stand up. You thank him, then offer your hand to the girl. She looks at you uncertainly.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “Let’s go get you dressed in some warm clothes. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

“She’s super nice.” Dustin says, trying to help.

Lucas adds, “Yeah, you can trust her.”

“She’s alright.” Is all Mike offers.

You give them all an appreciative smile, even if Mike is being a bit of an ass, and then you feel a small, cold hand wrap around yours. The girl stands up, looking around shyly, and you lead her to the bathroom. When you go to close the door, she stops you.

Mike has followed, seeing the interaction. “You don’t want it closed?”

Her voice is quiet, solemn. “No,”

You and Mike look at each other, and he voices what you’re thinking. “So you can speak.”

He looks excited about this new information, and you shove his head out of the doorway. She needs to get dressed. “We’ll leave the door cracked, okay?”

She nods at you, and you stand guard outside the door. It’s not that you don’t trust the boys, but Mike has only known her for ten minutes and he’s already been nicer to her than you’ve ever seen him with anyone else. The only other person he’s this soft spoken to is Will, so you’re protective of her.

You can hear the boys discussing tonight’s events from the living area while the girl gets dressed. They sound scared, and a part of you can’t blame them. While you’re fairly certain that the girl isn’t dangerous, it’s still a creepy situation. Once again, Hopper’s new theory surrounding Will floats through your mind. This all can’t be some coincidence.

Sighing, you approach the boys and catch a bit of the conversation.

“Our houses become Alcatraz.” You hear Lucas saying, and you figure they’ve finally pieced together that there’s no way any of you can tell anyone about the girl. None of you were supposed to be out tonight. As much as you know you should tell an adult, you also need to be able to help Jonathan with finding Will. If your mom locks the house down, you’re doomed.

“Lucas is right,” the boys turn to you. “We can’t go to anyone about this just yet, but I also don’t think it’s a good idea to hide her. She’s been through something terrible, it’s obvious. Tonight, I say she gets some rest. We can figure out what to do later.”

Mike nods, for once agreeing wholeheartedly with you. “She’ll sleep here tonight-”

Dustin’s eyes widen in horror, “You’re letting a girl-”

You clamp your hand over his mouth, motioning for Mike to continue.

“Thanks, Y/N. In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst,”

They think she’s from Pennhurst? You think, but don’t verbalize it.

“Or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear! And tomorrow night, we go back out, and this time we find Will.”

You gotta hand it to Mike Wheeler, he may be a pain in the ass, but he’s a smart pain in the ass. The plan is pretty sound, so long as he follows through with it. However, it’s him following through with it that leaves you a bit unsure.

He looks at you for approval, and you hesitantly nod. “It’s a pretty good plan, Wheeler. So long as you stick to it.”

Lucas and Dustin nod along with you, there’s an unspoken sense of doubt that Mike will actually be able to turn the girl over to his mom. Then she walks out, dressed now in some of Nancy’s old clothes. She draws into herself when you all turn to her, shy. You walk over and offer your hand again, which she accepts.

“Mike, go find her something to sleep on. Dustin, we gotta go soon before mom notices we’re gone.”

Both boys comply, with Mike searching for a sleeping bag and Dustin packing up his stuff. You crouch down next to the girl, so that you’re face to face, and give her a warm smile. “It was lovely meeting you. My name is Y/N, I hope Mike over there doesn’t give you a hard time tonight.”

Mike flips you off, having heard you. “If he’s annoying,” you lean in close to her now, whispering in her ear. “You have my permission to pinch him.”

The girl giggles, finally relaxing a bit, and you warm with pride. She’ll be okay, she seems like a very resilient girl and you’ll oddly miss her.

The two other boys are waiting for you upstairs. You all wish Mrs. Wheeler a good night and head out. Thankfully the rain has now stopped, so the bike ride home isn’t bad. You stop at Lucas’ turn to make sure he gets home safely before finally arriving at your place. As Dustin begins pedaling into your driveway, you don’t follow.

“I’m going to go see Jonathan, he didn’t answer my calls earlier and I just…”

Dustin waves at you, not even bothering to turn around. “Yeah yeah, go see your boyfriend. If mom asks, you’re asleep.”

“He’s not my boyfriend-”

“Are you seriously going to argue with me after I offered to cover for you?”

Your brother gives you a pointed look, and you know he’s right. “Touché.”

Dustin goes to leave, but you quickly grab at his jacket. “Before I forget, swear to me that you’ll keep me updated if anything weird happens, okay?”

He nods at you, knowing better than to argue, and gives you a mock salute as he heads inside.

The living room light is on when you arrive at the Byers home, despite the late hour, but you aren’t surprised. You knock on the door and wait. When no one comes, you knock again, a bit louder this time. After another few moments, the door swings open.

Jonathan has a finger over his lips in a shushing manner, motioning to Joyce who is passed out on the couch. You nod, letting him know you understand. The two of you go to his room and when he closes the door, you finally get a good look at him. He looks worse than he did earlier, the bags under his eyes have somehow gotten darker. His hair is a mess, his eyes bloodshot.

“You’re soaked.” Jonathan says.

“Yeah,” he doesn’t want to talk about it yet, so you play along. “Got caught in the rain. Are some of my spare clothes still in your bottom drawer?”

He nods at you, going over and grabbing a t-shirt and pajama pants for you. You accept them gratefully and excuse yourself to the bathroom to change. Your bones are cold, the rain seemingly having penetrated the layers of your skin. In the mirror you see that your own eyes are bloodshot; you don’t look much better than Jonathan, really.

When you return Jonathan is sitting on his bed, so you join him. It’s silent between you, all you can hear is his breathing. You stare straight ahead, so does he, and you wait. You’ve only seen Jonathan like this a handful of times, where the stress and anxiety becomes too much for him. He shuts down, draws into himself, and all you can do is wait for him to return to you; he always does.

“Mom got a call tonight.” Jonathan’s voice is hoarse, and he looks frail. You wonder if he ever did end up making the spaghetti you prepared for him.

“Who was it?”

He swallows heavily, taking a moment to respond. “She said it was Will.”

“Will?” You look at him now, searching for any signs on his face, his voice lacks emotion. By the way he stares blankly ahead, as if he’s not really present with you right now, you know that it hadn’t been Will on the other end.

“She started freaking out, going ballistic,” his voice cracks a bit, so you take a chance and reach for his hand. He lets you take it, giving you a squeeze, before continuing. “She was screaming, begging whoever it was to give Will back.”

Jonathan pauses again. You don’t say anything, because no words will help. He’s never been the type for comforting words, anyways. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “It wasn’t him. Lightning struck and our phone got charred. It wasn’t Will.”

Now it’s your turn to squeeze Jonathan’s hand. He doesn’t deserve any of this. None of the Byers do. Out of the entire town, they’re the family who deserves the most that life can give. Will, too good. Jonathan, too selfless. Joyce, too loving. They’re the best damn people you know.

“I tried calming her down, but she was hysterical. She’s only asleep right now because she worked herself up too much and passed out. I’m worried she-'' Jonathan shakes his head, as if ashamed by his own words. “I’m worried she’s going crazy, Y/N.”

He’s quiet again, but you can tell he’s about to break. His knee is now bouncing up and down and his breathing has become slightly ragged. Everything from today has been building up, it was only a matter of time before he snapped. You’re also worried about Joyce, a part of you skeptical to believe her, but the little girl you found tonight in the rain? Something was definitely weird about Will’s disappearance, but you’re hesitant to tell Jonathan just yet. For all you know, she could’ve simply been a girl who got lost and will be returned to her family tomorrow.

You don’t want to worry Jonathan any more than you need to.

“I should’ve been there for him. I shouldn’t have taken that shift.” He gasps out, and like a dam the tears begin to fall. You’re quick to pull him into a hug and he crumbles into you. His body shakes with violent sobs and he clutches at you as if afraid you’ll leave.

“You can’t blame yourself.” You whisper, stroking a hand through his hair. He cries even harder, the force of it almost enough to knock you over, so you situate yourself so that you’re fully on the bed, laying against his pillows, with Jonathan crying into your chest beside you.

“He’s g-gone.”

“We’ll find him, I promise.” Your own tears threaten to come out, but you force them down. You have to be here for him, he needs you. The only other time Jonathan has so openly cried was when Lonnie left years ago. He’s been holding everything in since then, all those years of looking after his family, taking care of his brother, getting harassed by assholes like Tommy Hagan.

Neither of you say anything else, and you know that Jonathan needs to let it all out. You soothe him as best as you can, running a hand through his hair, stroking his back, reassuring him over and over again that none of this is his fault until your own voice becomes hoarse. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but sometime during the night Jonathan finally falls asleep, and you follow shortly after him.

—

Sunlight streams through Jonathan’s spare bed sheet that he’s pinned over his window, serving as a makeshift curtain, waking you up. You stretch, careful not to wake the boy beside you, and crawl out of the bed. You’re antsy, already knowing that today will be another long day. After grabbing some clothes from your designated drawer and getting dressed, you head into the kitchen and start making a quick breakfast. Just as you’re finishing up, Jonathan comes out of his room, dressed and ready for the day.

Neither of you say anything about the night prior, instead silently working around each other in the kitchen with years of practiced ease. He hands you the salt shaker right when you need it, you grab the pieces of toast that he popped into the toaster, the two of you never once get in each other’s way. You get deja vu, remembering all the times you’ve slept over with Dustin, you and Jonathan making the boys breakfast while they slept in.

The only indication that last night really happened is a forehead kiss from Jonathan, his lips soft against your head. Out of the two of you, you’re definitely the touchy one, so it’s always a nice surprise when he initiates the touch, and his forehead kisses were a welcome rarity.

When the plates have been made, Joyce gets up from the couch and stumbles over to the table. You quickly help her sit down, and for the first time since Will’s disappearance you’re able to really look at her. She looks like Jonathan, only worse. The bags under her eyes are darker, her hair is more matted, and you believe she’s still wearing the same shirt you saw her in the night that Will went missing.

“All right, mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan tries to place her plate on the table, but Joyce stops him, worried about the poster of Will.

Jonathan gives you a look and you run over to the table, grabbing the poster so that he can set the plate down.

Joyce gives you a tired smile, “Thank you, Y/N, but I can’t eat.”

“I just need you to eat, mom.”

“Jonathan’s right, Mrs. Byers. You need to eat, we gotta keep your strength up.” You feel like you’re talking to a child, but in a way, you suppose you are.

The woman lights a cigarette instead, and faintly you wonder how many she’s had within the last 48 hours; you’ll need to wash your clothes when you get home. She begins to ask Jonathan to go to Xerox to make as many copies of Will’s poster as possible. You sit down in front of her, silently eating, knowing there’s no place for you in this conversation.

It’s not that the Byers are ashamed that they have little money, but you know it’s rude to listen in. They make do with what they have, and Jonathan has never felt embarrassed with you knowing it.

“I don’t want you to go alone,” Joyce says, causing you to speak up.

“I’ll go with him and help hang them up, it’s no problem.”

Jonathan turns to you. “You have that chem test, remember? I’m not letting you miss that.”

“Shit…” you bury your face into your hands. You completely forgot about that after finding the little girl last night and dealing with Jonathan. You’ve heard about how impossible the chem exams were, and science has never been your best subject. That was Dustin’s thing, your thing was more humanities.

“You’re the smartest person I know, you’ll ace the exam,” Jonathan reassures you before turning to his mom. “And I’ll handle the posters, it’s okay.”

Joyce has been lost in thought during your conversation with her son, only beginning to speak again when she’s asked how many copies will be efficient. Once she starts speaking again, it’s almost like she’s physically unable to stop. She begins to ramble, finally exposing the crumbling woman that you’ve only heard about, now understanding Jonathan’s fears for her.

“Mom-”

“If we… ten cents-”

“Mom!” Jonathan raises his voice a bit, now grabbing at his mother’s hand. “You can’t get like this, okay?”

The look on Joyce’s face kills you. She looks so lost, ashamed of her behavior, and you cast your head down; this is a private matter. Joyce profusely apologizes to him and all Jonathan can do is gently reassure her that it’s okay. All of this is okay.

Their tender moment is interrupted by knocking on the front door, revealing Hopper on the other side. His presence makes you uneasy, so you stay in the kitchen and begin to clean up with Jonathan while Joyce attacks him with questions.

“A little bit of trust here, alright? We’ve been searching all night.” You hear the cop say. Your hand clenches the sponge, rubbing a bit harder at the plate you’re cleaning. If they’ve been searching all night, why are they here now?

“Went all the way to Cartersville.” Ever since Will disappeared, you’ve been building a wall of hope within you that he’ll be found safe and sound. However, with every passing day, with every new situation that occurs, you can feel a piece of the wall collapse. You can feel it now; the search party went all the way to Cartersville.

“And?” Joyce asks.

“Nothing.” The cry that Joyce lets out causes you to drop the plate you’ve been cleaning, shattering on the floor. You curse, immediately bending down to pick up the pieces. Luckily it didn’t shatter into a million bits, but you still feel horrible for breaking one of their dishes.

Jonathan bends down as well to help, and the commotion catches Hopper’s attention. He sees you scrambling to clean up the mess and sighs with annoyance. “Does she live here or something?”

You and Jonathan look at each other, a slight smile on your faces, and only respond to Hopper with a synchronized shrug. You basically do live at the Byers’ at this point, you have been for years now. It was the same for Jonathan: if you weren’t at his house, he was at yours.

Joyce wipes some of her tears away. “Y/N is family, she’s here to help.”

Hopper ignores this, instead bringing up the phone call from the night before. Joyce leads him over to the phone, and you join them once you’ve collected the remaining pieces of broken glass. When you see the phone, you can’t help but gasp. Jonathan’s words from last night are accurate, the phone is charred.

“Storm barbecued this pretty good.” Hopper says.

Joyce waves her arms out, disbelieving. “The storm? You’re saying that that’s not… weird?”

“No, it’s weird.” Hopper begins, but you cut him off.

“It’s really weird.”

He glares at you. You mumble a quick sorry and back away a bit while Jonathan asks if the call can be traced. Hopper focuses back on the situation at hand, informing him that it isn’t possible and then questions if Joyce even heard Will in the first place. The question makes you cringe, knowing it’ll only make Joyce more agitated and hurt.

“Flo said you just heard some breathing.”

It’s the way he phrases the question, the way he emphasizes the word “just”, that bothers you. This woman has just lost her kid, what kind of mother wouldn’t know her own child’s breathing?

“Even if it was ‘just’ some breathing, I’d know it was my brother. Will is her son, she’d know better than anyone.” You find yourself saying. The words weren’t meant to leave your mouth, but the appreciative look Joyce casts your way outweighs the fear from Hopper’s glare.

“It was him. It was Will, and he was scared. Then something-”

“It was probably just a prank call,” Hopper tries to reason with her, causing you to roll your eyes at him. You respect the guy, you do, but could he at least attempt to listen to Joyce?

You excuse yourself before you say anything else, heading back into the kitchen to collect the two posters you and Jonathan made. While the others talk, you grab his things and pack his bag for him. You know he’ll probably skip school today to get the copies done in time, maybe keep an eye on his mom, so you make a mental note to inform him later that you’ll help with putting the fliers up the second you’re done with the exam. He needs someone there for him.

When you’ve grabbed the last of Jonathan’s things, Lonnie’s name is mentioned. You freeze, standing right outside the hall from them, only a wall between you. If Lonnie is somehow involved in this, you’ll kill him yourself. He was always cruel to Will, even when you were around to witness it. You hate him more than anything in this damn world.

“It’s been long enough, I’m having him checked out.” Hopper declares, storming out of the house.

You count to three in your head, and the second you get to three, Jonathan is following after Hopper. You knew he would, hating his father the most out of everyone who has had the displeasure of meeting him. You follow behind him, heading outside to talk to the Chief.

“Hey, Hopper. Let me go.”

Hopper takes a drag from his cigarette, facing the two of you. “I’m sorry?”

“To Lonnie’s,” Jonathan says, looking at you for backup.

You do your best to try. “If Will’s there, that means he probably ran away. Cops will scare the poor boy, he’ll think he’s in trouble.”

“And he’ll hide. He’s good at hiding.” Jonathan finishes for you.

Hopper stares at you both, inhaling more smoke from his cigarette and blowing it in your direction with a curious look in his eyes. “You two are sickening to be near, you know that?”

You and Jonathan share an annoyed look. A kid is missing, and you still have to clarify that you aren’t together? “It’s not like that,” Jonathan says.

“Sure, you know cops are good at detecting lies,” Hopper approaches him now, grabbing his shoulders. For a brief second you’re afraid he’ll hurt him. “And we’re also good at finding, okay? Stay here with your mom. She needs you.”

Hopper punches at Jonathan’s shoulder before facing you. “And you,” you brace for whatever he’s about to say, knowing you probably aren’t his favorite person at the moment. He points at Jonathan, “He needs you.”

His words hang in the air several minutes after he’s gone. You glance at Jonathan, but he doesn’t meet your eye and instead he goes back inside. You sigh, following after him because it’s what you do. Hopper’s right, he needs you.

Jonathan’s in the living room, speaking softly to his mom when you enter. You don’t disturb them but rather snatch Jonathan’s keys from the counter and wait for him by the door. Like Joyce said, Xerox opens in about thirty minutes and you have a chem exam to take. If you leave now, you’ll be able to make the copies with him and be back in time before school.

The ride to Xerox is tense, you know Jonathan is upset that he’s been sidelined by Hopper. You also know that he’s torn between wanting to help his mom and staying out of his house as much as possible. If it weren’t for your god damn chem test you’d offer to skip and hide out at your place, but you can’t. Jonathan wouldn’t let you risk your future for him (even though you would, in a heartbeat, a million times over).

The man at Xerox gives Jonathan a look of pity, clearly recognizing Will’s picture on the poster. It’s your favorite photo of him, smiling with all his teeth and happy as can be. From what you’ve heard, the whole town has been conducting search parties for him. Jonathan ignores the look and asks for the 200 copies to be made.

It’s just you and him in the store as you wait for the prints to be done. The guy said it’d be about a ten minute wait so you wander around the store. Jonathan clearly is in a no talking mood, so you occupy yourself with whatever you find. You wish you’d brought your backpack to Jonathan’s last night so you could at least study a bit while waiting, but you didn’t. It’d be a miracle if you pass this exam.

Jonathan wanders around as well, so you give a quick look around and find the employee. He’s standing over the printer when you approach. “I’d like to pay for the copies, please.”

“You can pay after they’re done-”

“No, I can’t let him see,” you point over to Jonathan, who is now looking at some stationary. “Please, just let me pay now so he can yell at me later.”

The guy gives you a shrug, clearly not getting paid enough to care. “Okay, it’ll be $20. Just leave the money on the counter over there, the prints should be done soon.”

You nod and do as you’re told, leaving the $20 bill on the counter while Jonathan isn’t looking. He can kill you later, right now you want to make up for not being able to help with hanging them up. There’s literally hundreds to get through, he can’t do that all alone.

When the posters are done and Jonathan collects them, you wish the worker a good day and then wrap your arms around him and use all your strength to drag your friend into the car. He doesn't fight back at first, too confused by your actions, and you’re almost out the door before he sees the man pocket the money and wave at you. The dots connect in his head and Jonathan begins to fight against you.

“Y/N, let me pay-”

“Nope. Not happening!”

“We both know I’m stronger-”

“Debatable, honestly, seeing as how we’re almost to your car.”

“Let go!” He tugs harshly as his arm, which you’ve got a secure hold on, causing you to stumble a bit.

You plant your feet more firmly against the ground and use all your weight to pull the boy forward. You’re a few feet away from the car, just one more solid pull should do the trick. “Stop fighting this, Byers. I’ve already paid-”

“Which you shouldn’t have!”

“Keep fighting and drop all the posters, I dare you.”

Jonathan looks down at the posters in his spare hand, realizing that you’re right. If he doesn’t give in soon, they’ll topple over. He lets out an agitated groan, throwing his head back, and then marches over to the car to unlock it and fling himself into the driver’s seat. “Just get in.”

You do a small victory dance and hop in the car.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

He hesitates only for a moment. “God, I hate that I do.”

You smile, buckling your seatbelt. Jonathan pulls out of the parking lot and begins the drive to school. He’s less tense this time, at least. The small little wrestling match between the two of you seemingly did some good, then.

When you pull up to school, you once again apologize to Jonathan for being unable to help. He waves you off, understanding.

“It’s okay, I promise. I can’t have you failing out of high school because of me.”

You roll your eyes. “One test won’t make me become a high school dropout, Jonathan.”

He ruffles your hair, which you slap him for. “You can join me after, okay? Good luck, bug.”

“Fine, but I’m taking some posters with me so I can hang up on my way to my locker.”

“Deal.”

You run to your locker, flinging it open and letting out a sigh of relief when you spot your chem cards. Honestly, you really should’ve prepared better for your little sleepover at the Byers. You glance at the watch on your wrist, noting that you have roughly fifteen minutes to memorize all the elements in the periodic table as well as some chemistry definitions.

Just peachy.

You tie your hair up so you can focus better and grab the note cards. If you review the cards as you walk to class, you can save at least three minutes of studying time. You tuck the few remaining posters of Will under your arm and begin to head to your class, getting absorbed in all the elements and words. As you’re skimming a card about protein being K, you run into Nancy and Barb, who also seem to have the same idea as you.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Nancy greets you, Barb waving to you as well.

They’re being nice, so you try to make conversation. “Studying for Kaminsky’s test?”

They nod at you and Nancy sighs, “Yeah, his exams are the worst.”

You laugh a bit, for once on the same page as her. “I know. I spent last night at Jonathan’s, I completely forgot about the test until this morning. I’m screwed.”

Barb raises her eyebrows at you while Nancy suddenly looks sad. “Oh, I’m sorry about Will. I know you and him are close.”

“Yeah, it must be hard taking care of Jonathan right now.” Barb voices.

You give them both an awkward smile. “Thanks, I guess? It’s just, there’s still hope, so…”

The three of you stand there as your voice trails off. It’s painfully awkward. While you’ve known Nancy since you were 12, and at some point you even called her a close friend of yours, the second you entered high school she became distant. You never blamed her for it, people simply grow up and grow apart. Now you only ever interact with her if it concerns the boys.

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp.

“Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your cheat sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.”

You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

His friends laugh, but Steve has a bit of heart to look guilty, so you count that as something. His shame doesn’t last long though and the goofy and sweet boy who made sure you were okay after almost hitting you with his car is gone.

Steve plays off the situation as if it were nothing. “Let me make it up to you, Henderson. I know you’re probably stressed out of your mind dealing with boyfriend troubles because of Bill-”

“His name is Will,” you grit out, remembering now why you dislike Steve so much. Everything was about impressing his friends, and while you can sympathize with him, it doesn’t give him an excuse to be an asshole.

“Right, Will. Anyways, I was just about to inform Nance over here that my dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, ‘cause, ya know, she doesn’t trust him.”

“Good call,” Tommy says, and you glare at him.

Steve carries on. “So, are you guys in?”

“In for what?” Nancy asks.

“No parents, a big house?” Carol says, as if Nancy is a giant idiot.

You feel bad for her being treated so poorly by her boyfriend’s friends, so you lean in and whisper, “A party, Nancy.” Then you look at Steve. “And no, I’ll pass.”

Steve pouts. “Can’t leave loverboy alone for a couple hours?”

You scoff, shoving the poster against his chest, using more force than probably necessary, but the satisfying grunt he lets out pleases you. “If I didn’t know you I’d say you sound jealous. Unfortunately, I do know you, and that’s exactly why I’m not interested.”

“Meow,” says Carol as she and Tommy laugh.

You ignore her and push past the group to get to class. You’ve wasted enough time, you have to study. Steve lets you, hurt by your words, but tries to play it off, instead focusing his attention on Jonathan up ahead hanging up some posters. You both see him at the same time and as you start to approach him, you hear Steve and his group mock him.

“God, that’s depressing.” Steve says, and you’ve never wanted to hit a man more than you do right now.

You glance at Nancy, trying to convey your disappointment in her. She’s a nice girl, she shouldn’t be with an idiot like Harrington. Who the hell makes fun of a guy with a missing brother? Nancy doesn’t meet your eye, which pleases you. She should feel guilty.

As you near Jonathan, Nancy calls after you to wait up. You listen, mostly because you’re surprised she even followed, and together you walk up to him. “Hey, bee. I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

Jonathan looks up at your voice, surprised when he sees Nancy next to you. He gives you a look that you conclude is a what is she doing here? look and you can only shrug as if to say I have no clue how I ended up in this situation.

Nancy doesn’t see this exchange. “Hey,”

“Hey,” Jonathan responds, still confused.

Nancy looks at you uncertainly, but you refuse to leave. Screw your exam, if she even considers voicing her boyfriend’s opinions to Jonathan then you’ll personally see that she fails alongside you. “I just… I wanted to say, you know… I’m sorry, about everything.”

Oh, she’s being nice. You’re still unimpressed, but Jonathan motions to you to stop staring her down, so you reluctantly listen.

“Everyone’s thinking about you.”

You all turn towards Steve and his group, who are clearly listening in, and you snort at her words. “Right, obviously.”

“Y/N.” Jonathan warns.

“Sorry.”

“It sucks.” Nancy continues, and you have to give her some credit. You’re being a blatant bitch, but she’s still trying. You feel a bit bad now, which honestly makes you dislike her a bit more. Damn morals. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’s a smart kid.”

The bell rings, ending Nancy’s little monologue. “I have to go, chemistry test. Y/N, want to walk together?”

She really makes it impossible to be a bitch to her. “Sure, just give me a second.”

You lean close to Jonathan and lower your voice. “Good luck with your dad, bee.”

“How did you know I’d go-”

“Because of course you would. Now go, give him hell for me, will ya?”

Jonathan nods, relieved you aren’t pushing the topic. You know that Lonnie is a sore topic for him, for the entire Byers family, really. You only knew Lonnie for a year or so before Joyce left him, but you’ll never forget his spiteful words and the bruises that Jonathan tried to hide from you. He needs to do this alone, father and son.

You see Nancy watching, and just to spite her you kiss Jonathan’s cheek, relishing in the fact that she looks away, and you wish him luck once again before following her to class.

The test isn’t as bad as you’d feared, and the rest of the day goes by with relative ease. You don’t see much of Steve and his group and you’re thankful for that. Nancy also keeps her distance, no longer attempting to be all buddy buddy with you. A part of you feels bad about that, because honestly the thought of someone thinking you hate them makes you feel physically ill, but as long as Nancy is with someone like Steve, there’s not much you can do about that.

After school you stop by all of Jonathan’s classes and collect the work he’s missed over the last few days; he has enough to worry about, so you figured you could help do some assignments for him. It’s nothing unusual, truth to be told. There was a time you were out for two weeks straight due to the flu one year and Jonathan did every one of your assignments, so it’s about time you returned the favor.

Once you have what you need, you hang up the remaining flyers in your bag and begin your journey to work. You’ve used up all of your sick days helping the Byers, and while Mrs. Waters has insisted on letting you have more time off, you figured the distraction would be good for you. Jonathan will want some space after confronting his dad, and as much as you hated Lonnie, something told you he had nothing to do with Will.

Just when your shift is almost done, your coworker, this young kid named Alex who you’re honestly surprised can legally work, informs you that your mom is on the phone and wants to speak with you. You stack the remaining books in your hands and thank him, walking over to pick up the call.

“Hey, mom. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, sweetie! I was just calling to tell ya that Dusty is at the Wheeler’s tonight for dinner, so my plan for ribs won’t work without him. I was wondering if darling Johnny could feed you tonight? I know the two of you have that little sneaky food game.”

Your posture, once slumped over and uninterested, now straightens out. Why the hell is Dustin having dinner at the Wheeler’s? They never do that. “Uh, sure mom that won’t be an issue.”

Your mom lets out a sigh of relief. “Bless that Jonathan! I’ve always liked him…”

Your mom may be the biggest Jonathan supporter you’ve ever met. “Yeah, he’s your favorite. I know,” you shift a bit to catch Alex’s attention, mouthing to him that you need to leave work early. “Hey, did Dustin by chance say how long he’ll be at the Wheeler’s? I can swing by and pick him up after my shift.”

“Oh, I think he’s staying the night there. He mentioned something about Mike not finishing his part of their little science project?”

They’re calling the little girl a science project now? Boys are so typical. “Oh, I see. Well, I gotta get back to work, mom. I’ll be home late tonight.”

Your mom wishes you goodbye and warns you not to be out too late. You hum, already trying to figure out the quickest route to the Wheeler’s house. You can’t say you’re surprised that Mike didn’t follow the plan, but you also can’t say you were prepared for this either.

Alex comes back with your boss and you quickly make up a lie about not feeling well. Mrs. Waters gives you a pitying look and tells you to go. You’re incredibly grateful for her, she’s like a grandmother to you and has always been so kind.

You quickly bike to Mike’s house, going over a grand speech in your head for the boys. Logistically speaking, you’re not sure if they can even harbor the little girl in his basement. Would it be kidnapping? Could kids even kidnap other kids? You aren’t sure and you definitely aren’t willing to find out.

You arrive at the house just as Nancy and Barb are pulling out of the driveway, presumably to Steve’s grand house party. They wave at you awkwardly and you don’t have it in you to wave back. You park your bike next to their doorstep and knock on the door.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Mrs. Wheeler asks after opening the door.

“Oh, I was just wondering if I could hang out with the boys tonight? Jonathan’s busy and I promised Dustin I’d help with their campaign.”

Mrs. Wheeler cocks her head at you. “But I thought there was a special assembly at the school for Will? Nancy and Barb just left for it.”

You feel your blood boil a bit. There was no assembly for Will at your school, and it was really damn low of Nancy to use his disappearance as a cover story for her stupid party. She’s known Will since he was practically a baby. You have no idea how someone could be so unaffected by a missing child, let alone one who has been at your house every damn weekend for years now.

“Oh, that!” You force yourself to remain calm; there isn’t time to snitch on Nancy, Mrs. Wheeler would only have more questions for you. “Yeah, I’m, uh, skipping it. Jonathan doesn’t want to go, so after he’s back from his errands I’m heading over to his place to, you know, comfort him?”

The woman stares at you for a second, trying to determine if there are any lies to your words. You’ve never been the best liar, but being the oldest Henderson child has unfortunately prepared you for being quick on your feet when needed.

“Well, come on then. They boys just went downstairs, and if you can please remind them to bring the plate of food back up here I’d really appreciate it.”

You thank Mrs. Wheeler and let yourself in. Her words have all but solidified your suspicions: Mike kept the girl.

When you descend the basement steps, it’s almost comical how the kids scramble to hide the girl like little cockroaches. They run around and Dustin screams something about covering her before the poor girl is being manhandled into a sheet as Mike screams at Lucas and Dustin to calm down.

“Guys! It’s just me! Jesus!” You shout, shoving past Mike to rush over to the girl and free her from the sheets. She looks more frightened than usual, but at least she’s alive.

“God, why am I always the one you push?”

You shush Mike, smoothing back the girl’s hair and offering her a reassuring smile. “Remember me, sweetheart?”

The girl nods and softly says, “Y/N.”

“Very good. I’m going to scream at my brother real quick, so why don’t you cover your ears for me so you don’t get too frightened?”

“Wait, what-”

The minute her ears are covered, you turn to Dustin and begin screaming. “Are you brain dead and not understand the words ‘tell me if anything weird happens’ or do you simply lack the appropriate empathy needed for a concerned sister?”

Dustin ducks his head in shame. “Y/N, look-”

“No! I’m all for helping you guys with your adventures and whatever, but Will went missing and then she appears and Mike,” you turn to him and he hides behind a frightened Lucas. “You said you’d stick to your plan. Now tell me, did you?”

Mike shakes his head, his eyes wide. Dustin looks no better as he cowers behind the others. Lucas simply shrugs, knowing that this would happen. You never, ever, yell at the boys; the few times you have in the past, all hell had broken loose.

“Y/N-”

“Zip it, Henderson. I’m so pissed off at you right now and if you want to make it to thirteen I suggest you keep quiet.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, why don’t you guys catch me up on what you’ve so sweetly kept hidden from me.” It’s worded as a question, but the boys know better than to deny you.

You sit on the ground so that you’re next to the girl and then motion for the three boys in front of you to start speaking. They look at Mike, giving him a nudge, and he hesitantly steps forward to begin speaking. “Her name is El.”

The girl, El, looks up at you and smiles. You return the smile and knock your shoulder against hers in a playful manner. “Nice to meet you, can I ask what El is short for?”

“Eleven,” she says, and you want to question the name further but the look on Mike’s face stops you. Now is not the time, you guess.

“El, she’s… different.” Mike continues, looking around nervously. He’s acting as if someone could break in any second and snipe you guys, and a part of you doesn’t doubt it can happen. “She has these powers, like, mind control powers.”

You snort, unable to stop yourself. El looks at you, looking unoffended, seemingly expecting this reaction. However, Mike groans at you. “Y/N, this is serious. She-she knows about Will.”

At this, your smile fades and you feel an overwhelming sense of hope take over you. You find your arms wrapping around El before you can control yourself and you give her a tight hug. She stiffens in your arms and you immediately pull away. “I’m sorry, I just… sorry.”

She laughs a bit, softly saying that it’s okay.

“Do you really know Will? Where he is?” You ask, almost too scared to say the words out loud. If she’s telling the truth… you shake your head in an attempt to dispel any false hope. You don’t know this girl, she could be lying.

Before El can say anything else, Mike speaks for her. “She does, but there’s bad men out there who want to hurt her. I think they’re after Will, too.”

You freeze. “Bad men?”

“Yes, this is why we didn’t want to tell you!”

“I wanted to tell her,” Lucas says, which causes Mike to glare at him.

You wave your arms at the two boys, breaking up their fight. “Mike, what do you mean by bad men? Honey,” you look at El, “did someone hurt you? Are you in danger? Should I call the police?”

“No!” All three boys shout at once.

You look at them, at the genuine fear in their eyes, and sigh, “Okay, if you can give me a good reason not to call the cops, I won’t.”

“Did you not hear the part about El having powers?” Dustin asks.

“Gee, Dustin. You’re right! It’s like her having powers is totally believable and reassuring to the situation at hand!”

“I can show you,” El speaks up.

You all face her now. “You can?”

She nods at you, getting up and grabbing your backpack that you threw on the ground when you walked in. She rustles through it while you and the boys look at one another. After a few seconds, El grabs one of your comic books and places it on the table. She looks at you and tilts her head, indicating for you to sit down next to her; you do as you’re told.

El straightens out your comic and then closes her eyes, going completely still. The air around you shifts and you can practically feel the static electricity encasing you; the hair on your arms stand up. The pages of the comic begin to flick up, fluttering as if someone is thumbing through them in rapid succession. You watch as the Spidey panels flash before your eyes, the pages flying faster and faster until it becomes almost frightening to be near. Then, once it gets to its last page, the comic flies up into the air and hovers for a few seconds, right in front of your face.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, your eyes wide.

Just as quickly as it began, the comic drops back onto the table. You look up at El and see that her nose is now bleeding, which rips you back to reality. The chair scrapes against the ground as you get up to help her, dabbing at the blood with a tissue that had been laying on the table.

“Do you believe us now?” Mike asks, a smug look on his face.

You gently wipe away the remaining blood from El’s face, looking her in the eye and directing your words to her. “I’m listening, sweetheart. What can you do to help us find Will?”

El smiles, pleased to have earned your trust, and you get the feeling that this little girl is the most powerful thing in all of Hawkins, maybe even the world. At her request, Mike places his DnD board on the table and arranges the pieces for El to use. She sits down and closes her eyes once more.

Lucas gives you a doubtful look. “What’s the weirdo doing?”

You flick his head, not enjoying the name calling. Honestly, you thought you raised these boys better than that.

El seems to accomplish whatever she was doing and picks up the wizard piece, murmuring, “Will.”

You feel your heart stop. Will always insisted on being the wizard whenever they played the game. He was Will the Wise, forever and always. El couldn’t have simply guessed that, and you know it’s her-

“Superpowers,” Dustin finishes your thought for you. The two of you exchange a glance and you notice the slight glee in his eyes. Under different circumstances, you’d also find this all pretty cool.

Mike sits next to El and begins to ask some questions about where she last saw Will. She gives him a look that you can’t quite decipher before swiping her arm across the table and spilling the pieces onto the floor. She then flips the board over, having it now face upside down, and places Will’s piece back down.

You knit your brows together, trying to follow along. El’s movements are methodical and carefully planned, being unable to find the right words due to her poor speech, and you try to piece together the information you’ve been given.

“I don’t understand,” Mike says, being extra gentle with El. You’ve never seen him so soft spoken before and you’re grateful at least one of the boys doesn’t view her as some monster. Which reminds you that you need to have a conversation with Dustin about respecting women, but for now you’ll hold off.

“Hiding.” says El.

He’s good at hiding, Jonathan’s words echo in your head.

“Will is hiding?”

El nods, now looking more nervous. You can tell that Mike is getting closer to information that she doesn’t want him near, which finally causes you to ask the question that’s been heavily on your mind. “From the bad men?”

Now El gives a slight shake of the head, and Mike presses on. “Then from who?”

Without saying anything, El places a second piece onto the board right in front of Will’s. It’s a piece you’re unfamiliar with, with two snake-like heads that loom over the small wizard piece. Whatever it is, you know it isn’t good judging the way Mike, Dustin, and Lucas look at each other in fear.

You turn to Dustin and whisper, “What’s that piece?”

Your brother puts his hands behind his head and sighs deeply, a new resigned look on his face. He looks as if he’s just aged thirty years, which you find a bit dramatic. “It’s the Demogorgon.”

“The Demo-what?” The name sounds familiar, but you can’t remember anything about it.

Mike looks at you and for once his voice holds no annoyance when he says, “There’s a lot we still have to catch you up on.”

–

Your head is spinning as you bike to Jonathan’s with all the new information you’ve just received. Demogorgons, magical vortexes, kids with damn superpowers. It’s all a lot for you to take in, and while you fully believe that El is something entirely different from a normal little girl, how can you be sure that it’s connected to Will? While his disappearance still confuses you, it’s illogical to jump to supernatural conclusions.

Dustin had begged you to let him spend the night at Mikes in order to keep talking to El, and you only agreed because you figured you’d be at Jonathan’s again tonight anyways. He’s been MIA all day and you’re worried as usual, but you made him and Mike swear to you that they’d stay put in the house. At least this way they’re in one place, so if they screw around they’ll be easier to find.

When you arrive at the Byers home you notice that Jonathan’s car isn’t in the driveway, which only confuses you further. Where the hell is he? You gave him all day to deal with Lonnie and cool off, trusting that he wouldn’t do anything stupid for twelve hours, and yet…

You fear he’s done something stupid.

You don’t have time to think too much about Jonathan’s absence because a frantic Joyce runs out the door screaming. She runs straight past you and into her car, and the house begins to light up like a Christmas tree. You can hear The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go, a song that Will once had on repeat for three weeks straight, and you can feel the same static electricity in the air that you felt when El used her powers in front of you.

Joyce suddenly gets out of the car and spots you, pointing towards her house. “You see that too?”

You swallow. “Yeah,”

She nods, as if your confirmation is all she needs to determine her sanity, and then marches inside. You stand in the yard, motionless. You’re terrified, and after learning about El tonight, you don’t have it in you to discover any other supernatural beings in Hawkins at the moment. Sighing, you follow after the woman because Jonathan isn’t home and someone needs to talk her down from whatever panic attack the flashing lights have inevitably caused.

“Mrs. Byers-”

“Y/N, you can’t tell me there isn’t something,” Joyce waves her hands in front of her face, almost grasping at the air, “weird about all of this. That was Will’s song, the lights were flashing in Will’s room, something came out of Will’s wall-”

“Something came out of his wall?”

“Yes! I’m not… I promise I’m not crazy, okay? You saw it, please tell me you saw it.”

You bite your lip, now thinking about El. You swore to Mike you wouldn’t tell anyone about her, and honestly you’re not sure that you should tell Joyce about her right now. You’re still unsure if El is being honest with you, and you can’t just give the woman false hope for her son. It’d kill you if you were wrong about El. But seeing the lights, hearing the music, the thing in the wall… There’s something that she’s not telling you.

“Mrs. Byers… I’m not quite sure what I saw, but we just had a bad storm and it could be faulty wiring.”

Joyce slumps her shoulders, frustrated that you aren’t conspiring with her. You just… you can’t. Not yet. Not before you figure out what the hell El is doing in Hawkins. You refuse to worsen Joyce’s already chronic anxiety and paranoia; Jonathan would never forgive you if you fed into her delusions, but it kills you to lie to her.

“Look, I do think that something is weird about this entire situation, “ Joyce’s face lights up, but you’re quick to add, “however, there’s no proof. You, I mean-Mrs. Byers, you’ve seen things in the past. You’re stressed, and anxious, and all the other synonyms.”

The woman lets a few tears drop from her eyes, now embarrassed. “Maybe you’re right. I-I’m sorry, honey. I just-”

You grab her hand. “I know,”

Her smile is brittle, a ghost of the once beautiful smile she’d give you, and your heart breaks for her.

After your conversation, Joyce excuses herself to her room. She looks even more exhausted than before, so you leave her alone and hole yourself up in Jonathan’s room.

You glance at your watch and note the late hour; you’re starting to worry now. Jonathan didn’t mention anything besides Lonnie and the posters, so you don’t know what else he could be doing so late. He wouldn’t go searching for Will without you.

You wake up to Jonathan returning an hour or so later, apparently having fallen asleep while waiting for him.

“Y/N?” His voice is gruff and surprised.

You groan and rub your eyes. “Turn the light off, bee.”

He doesn’t. “What are you doing here?”

The tone of his voice wakes you up a bit, making you sit up and look at him more clearly. His shoulders are tense, his eyes are hiding something, and his overall demeanor is hard to read. “I had something to tell you, but is everything okay?”

“You couldn't have waited until tomorrow? Y/N, this is my house, just… just get out.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re confused by his behavior, now starting to become a bit defensive and hurt by his dismissal.

“You can’t just let yourself in whenever you please.” Jonathan puts his camera on his desk, still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Jonathan, we literally have always let ourselves into each other’s houses whenever we please.”

He rolls his eyes at you and rips off his jacket, throwing it at you. “Get out!”

You catch the jacket before it hits you in the face. “What the hell, Jonathan!”

“Listen, I get that you think you’re a part of the family, but you’re not. You’ve been here for days now, it’s getting old.”

His words cut through you and leave vicious wounds against your skin. He doesn’t mean that, he can’t mean that. You and him were family. He’s never, ever insinuated anything less. He wouldn’t dare. Your Jonathan would never act like this to you, and the only time he’s ever been this cruel to you was when he accidentally dropped Lonnie’s last beer in the fridge and was too embarrassed and ashamed to ask for help; he’d shown up with bruises later that night.

Then it hits you. He did something, something that makes him feel guilty; he keeps glancing at his camera. You soften your voice, “Bee, what did you do?”

He whips around, now yelling. “Nothing! Just get the hell out of my house! It’s getting pathetic!”

You swallow back the angry tears that build in your throat. Fine. Whatever. Let him be a raging bitch after everything you’ve done for him these last few days.

“Fine, I will.” Grabbing your backpack you snatch the assignments you were supposed to give Jonathan and slam them against his chest. “Here’s all your fucking assignments, by the way.”

He seems to come back to himself, blinking away the anger and shame. “Bug…”

“You don’t get to call me that.” And with that, you don’t spare Jonathan another glance.

–

When you get home, the house is eerily quiet. Dustin is at Mike’s and your mom leaves you a note saying that she’s spending the night at your aunt’s. Great. Looks like it’s just you and Mews tonight then.

After everything that’s happened tonight, you never found time to eat dinner, and your stomach is loudly growling. You drop your stuff in your room and then reheat some leftovers, feeling like a pathetic child. You know that Jonathan didn’t mean what he said, but the words had come too easily to him to have just been a way to dodge his guilt. There had been some truth to them. Maybe you were pathetic for always fretting over him.

Dinner is quiet tonight.

You wait for the phone to ring, for Jonathan to call you and apologize, but the call never comes.

You’ve never felt so alone before.

⌑ series masterlist

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⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #the thought of steve just taking will's missing poster and then being like oh shit was so funny to me i had to add it #also sad ending #sorry #but also not

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wardenparker · 15 days ago

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The Unbearable Weight of Perfection, ch 9

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When an accident of fate throws Javi G into the path of his soulmate, his instinct is to dive in head first. Adjusting to life as the fated partner of someone you barely know is going to be harder than either of you suspect, but anything worth having is worth working for. Isn't it?

(This story is heavily inspired by the lovely house museums that I work in every day and the fantastic few months that HBO was using our houses to film a TV show in fall! I spent each day on that set in wonder and I can't wait to share the experience with all of you through this story.)

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 12.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, references to abusive family members -- i.e. Lucas, discussion of money/finances.* Talk of pregnancy/family planning. Family drama. Vaginal sex, unprotected sex, lovemaking. Summary: Javi encounters a little trouble working on his next script, so you decide to get away for the weekend - to an unconventional destination. Notes: Sorry for the slight delay this week, gang. And to the few of you who pointed out a missing section in the last chapter, I will be fixing it this week. Please accept my sincerest apologies for that editing snafu.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8

Thursday, June 5, 2025

Blowing out a breath, Javi stares at the screen and the cursor that seems to mock him as it blinks at him. After weeks of the scenes pouring out of him, he’s hit a wall. Unable to decide where the scene and ultimately, the film, will go. He needs a change of scenery, he decides as he pushes back from his desk. Needing to see you and remind himself of the character he has envisioned. “Sweetheart?”

“In the living room!” You’ve been hard at work for days with an idea of your own and feel like you’ve barely come up for air except to work and have meals with Javi. Designing clothes again after so long has your mind buzzing.

He takes his time, stopping by the kitchen for a drink and making sure he gets one for you. You are so like him when you are in the middle of something, ignoring your needs. “How is it going?” He asks as he sets down the cup on a safe surface. He has learned his lesson when he had spilt a cup on some of your delicate fabrics. He had felt guilty and had insisted on going to buy you more, even though you said it could probably be washed out.

“I think,” you’re beaming, grinning, and practically giggling as you add one final streak of color to your sketch. “I finally have a design.”

“That’s great!” Javi beams, delighted that you are so absorbed in your hobby. He loves it, encourages it. Knowing how much guilt you push down from the way your family acted about your passion.

“It’s a little dramatic,” you admit. “But I know you wanted us to match, so I tried to keep the theme throughout.” When you flip your sketchbook around to show him, the image of a floor-length red evening gown with a cowl neckline, plunging low back, and dramatic wings exposing your back and shoulders that taper down to small buttons before giving way to the slight train off the long skirt is matched by the jacket-less tuxedo design as its partner. The last steak is color you added was the matching red stripes of material up his pant leg, which compliments a matching black set of pants and waistcoat in stunning jacquard fabric. The dramatic wings of your gown’s back are echoed in the lapels of the waistcoat, the small buttons are the same design as that of your gown. The pieces work in tandem as a set. The only added accent of color is the soft, almost imperceptible yellow of the dress shirt you’re going to make him. As if the shirt itself had been antiqued.

“It’s…” Javi is at a loss for words as he stares at it for a moment, honestly wishing that somehow this piece had been created for the film. “Stunning.” He whispers, not touching the drawing but his fingers edge around the page. “It looks like a modern era romantic costume.” He adds, looking up at you. “I love it.”

“I was thinking about adding a pocket to the waistcoat…” you bite your lip, cheeks warm with how excited he seems. “To put a red pocket square inside. Unless you think that’s too much?”

“No, it’s perfect.” He argues, shaking his head. “The exact fabric of the dress, sí?”

“Yes! Exactly. To carry the color through.” His excitement is always so infectious and you’re grinning again. “I don’t know what I want to do about shoes yet, but if I can find you glittery dress shoes I might burst with excitement.”

“If we can’t find what you want, we can always have them made he reminds you. “The costume department loves you and they work with everyone.”

“I can’t imagine it’s difficult to make glittery Oxfords,” you hum, chewing on your lip for a second. “I wonder if Louboutin makes them? Imagine black glitter on top with that red sole?”

“Call them up and see.” He says casually. “Tamara is in talks to model their women’s line.”

“Call them up?” You snort, huffing at him for being so casual about it. “Who am I to just call up Christian Louboutin and ask for custom shoes?”

“You are Javier Gutierrez’s wife - soulmate -” he scoffs back at you playfully as he pulls out his wallet and retrieves a black credit card, “who has one of these.” He knows money talks more than anything else. With unlimited funds, they would do anything you wanted.

“I’m never going to quite get used to the kind of power your name has in this town,” you tell him, leaning over the table to kiss him softly. Though Javi is relatively new in Hollywood he’s already getting a lot of attention — and his name opens a lot of doors. The rest? He’s right, the high budget opens the rest of the doors for him.

“I want you to have what you want.” He smiles. “Your exact vision.”

"Thankfully, we have time for me to get my gumption up." Once again, his utter faith in you has you believing that anything actually is possible. It's amazing the way he can do that every time. "But tell me how your work is going, love. We've both been at our projects all day."

Javi sighs softly, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Not good.” He admits, eyes dropping down to the tops of his house shoes. Feeling a little like he had let you and everyone else down. “I’ve written two sentences.”

"Oh, honey." He puts such hard expectations on himself, and he is always his harshest critique. "That's okay. Not every day is going to be a massive outpouring of words."

“Yeah.” He sighs again, feeling your hand going to his back and rubbing gently. “I might need a change of scenery.”

"Like getting out of the house to clear your head, or are we talking getting out of town for the weekend?" The filming schedule is a little different this week and you have extra days off so Javi might be thinking of taking advantage of that.

“Either, both.” He shrugs. “I don’t know.” Being so indecisive on the movie means that he’s indecisive on everything. “But you have your work too.”

"We're not filming again until Monday," you remind him, leaning in to press a kiss to his temple. "I can take a break now that I have a design for our premiere outfits. Why don't we get out of town for a few days? See if we can wipe some of that worry away?"

“I don’t want to pull you away if you need to get started.” He knows getting away would help, but he also feels incredibly guilty about that.

"Sweetheart." Another kiss to his other temple and you smile softly. "I'm making two outfits for an event that is at least a year away. I can more than spare a few days to help you. I'd be glad to."

“Are you sure?” His question is soft, vulnerable. Hoping you aren’t just telling him what he needs to hear.

"I'm very sure." You promise him. Both of your hands slip around his to hold onto him, offering him the gentle strength of support. "Tell me where you want to go and I'll book the trip while you shower off this uncertainty."

“You pick.” He lifts his brows and gives you a pleading look. “Whatever you want.”

"Okay," you agree, giving him another kiss. "Go pack for a weekend away and I'll be upstairs as soon as I make the arrangements." You know what will help – or at least you have an inkling – and though it may end up being uncomfortable at times, helping Javi is worth it.

“Thank you.” He smiles and leans in to steal one more kiss. “I love you, amor.”

"I love you, too." Otherwise, you wouldn't be about to do what you're going to do. But for Javi? You're realizing that you really would give him anything.

Javi lets you go, reluctantly, but he knows your advice to shower away his frustration is a good one. You always know what he needs, even if he doesn’t.

As soon as he heads upstairs, you pull open your laptop and set to work booking the hotel and plane tickets, as well as arranging the rental car. Hopefully this helps. Hopefully you're not about to put yourself through the emotional ringer for nothing.

******

Friday, June 6, 2025

“Where are we?” He knows the destination, he got on the plane, but he has not idea why you brought him here. Wheeling his carry on, he follows as you lead him towards the car rental signs. You had just smiled at him as you bundled him into the car once you got the keys.

"This..." As if the world has summoned the most dramatic possible timing, you point out the upcoming road sign with a half-smile. Welcome to Mystic, CT it says in bright, cheery lettering. "Is my hometown."

“Are you—” he hadn’t expected that answer and he stares out the window in shock. “Your hometown…”

"You said you were stuck," you explain, hoping that this decision was the right one. Flying first class on the overnight flight to the east coast was gorgeous, but you could have flown anywhere. "And since the character is based on me...I hoped giving you some insight into how I grew up and where I came from might help?"

“It’s …it’s perfect.” He admits, twisting his head to look at you with concern on his face as he reaches for your hand. “But are you okay with being here?”

"I mean, I didn't call my parents or anything." That would be a huge step too far for you and you weren't prepared to do it in any way. "But showing you the things I actually like about this town? I can do that."

“Oh.” He nods seriously, understanding. You might never introduce him to your parents and he can accept that. “Then we will do just that.” He smiles. “Show me everything you liked here.”

"You know it's nothing to do with you." Driving into town, you head for the hotel that you registered for early check-in at. "It's that my step-dad is a dick bag who brainwashed my mom into being the worst version of herself." You sigh softly, turning right into the parking lot. "My actual father was her soulmate. I only remember him being happy and supportive. Even if that's just what he showed to his kid, at least it's a good thing, right? And then right after he died, she met Scott. And shit just went way downhill from there."

“Sweetheart,” he frowns slightly as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “You don’t have to justify it to me.” He snorts. “My cousin tried to kill me, remember? I wouldn’t let you within one hundred meters of him. I understand.”

"We really have the best families, don't we?" You huff, rolling your eyes to make him life as you park the car.

“Another little thing we have in common.” He agrees. “It doesn’t matter, we have made our family what we want it to be.”

"Yes we have." And for that you will be forever grateful. Javi understanding that family doesn't have to be blood has been amazing.

“Are we going to sleep before taking on your town?” Sleeping on a plane is never the best rest and he’s actually tired.

"We can if you want to." You sleep a hell of a lot better on planes than he does, but you wouldn't mind a nap. "It's still early. What if we take a nap and get up for lunch time?"

“Are you sure?” He feels like he’s nothing but a burden right now and he hates that feeling.

"I'm sure." Unbuckling your seatbelt and stretching, you lean across the center console to give him a kiss before opening the driver's side door of the rental car. "Come on, mi amor. Believe it or not, there's a lot of stuff to do in this little town. A nap is a good idea before we get started."

“Just an hour or so.” He promises, knowing that he will feel better when he’s laying next to you, wrapping up in your arms.

"If you need more, that's okay, too," you promise him.

“Lead the way.” He agrees, eager to see a place from a movie he’s seen. It’s been a long time, but he has a feeling you will be watching it together sometime this weekend.

Back to the car and off across town, the original location for Mystic Pizza is mostly the same as you remember it as a kid. It's still fairly clean and welcoming, the staff are still mostly pretty girls and all wearing t-shirts with the place's logo on them. It's an oddly warm sort of feeling, actually, but you welcome it. When the cheerful blonde seats you in a booth next to a window and hands you menus, you actually breathe a little easier. At least in this place, there's no chance of running into your mother. She still hates anywhere that your dad loved.

“What was your favorite pizza as a child?” He asks. “Pepperoni? Or were you adventurous?”

"They had this special..." you trail off slightly, looking down to check the menu and see if it's still there. "Here." It's right at the top, which somehow makes you feel an unexpected kind of warmth. "I guess it's their house special. Pepperoni, meatball, sausage, green peppers, onions, and mushrooms. That's what Dad and I would get."

“Then that’s what I want.” He decides immediately, wanting to bring back as many positive memories for you as he can. He can practically see you when you were younger from the few photos you’ve shown him. Making him smile as he imagines a little girl of his own that manages to look like your twin.

"If we're doing the childhood special, then we also need root beer," you tell him, and laugh at the memory of it. "Root beer in glass bottles felt like the fanciest thing in the world. Billie and I would pretend they were beer."

He chuckles. “Then I guess I shouldn’t tell you that I grew up drinking wine.” He teases.

"With where you grew up, that makes perfect sense." When a waitress comes over, Javi lets you order and hands over his menu with yours easily. "I would honestly be more surprised if you hadn't grown up drinking wine."

“I wish I still had some bottles from our collection.” He admits with a sigh. “My grandfather made wine when he was young and bored. Lucas finished it all off.”

"Lucas sounds better and better all the time." At least he's in prison now. Far away from Javi where he can never hurt him again. That's the solace you take whenever your husband's cousin comes up in conversation.

“He loved the wine.” He shrugs. “Claimed I was too sentimental. Wine is made to be drunk.”

"I love that you're sentimental," you counter, reaching over the table to take his hand. "And there's nothing wrong with wanting to keep physical memories."

“He would always open bottle on special occasions. My grandfather.” Javi tells you. “He would have loved you.”

"My father would have liked you, too." Your fingers are intertwined on the table top now. Something so habitual of the way you are together – always touching, always making sure the other is okay. "He always told me that whoever I found to spend my life with would have to shine just as specially as I did. You definitely would have fit that bill to him."

Having approval of his soulmate’s parent is always something that Javi had wondered. His failings as a person, as a man, were always so glaringly obvious in his family but he smiles as he thinks about what could have been. “He sounds amazing.” Javi admits. “My father…he always wanted more.” He squeezes your hand. “But at the end, he just hoped I found my soulmate. He would have enjoyed you. Your sass, your quiet strength.”

“My father would have liked your sense of humor.” All the memories you have of the man involve laughter and play. Of course you were little, but it always seemed to you like your mother forgot how to laugh after your father died. “And he would have loved how we met, too. The romance of it all.”

“He was a romantic?” Javi asks, encouraging you to talk about your father as much as you can remember. It helps you, especially after your mother had all but banned you from talking about your father.

“I think so.” The waitress comes back with your drinks and you smile and thank her before she speeds off again to help other tables. “I remember him always giving mom little presents. And bringing home flowers every Friday when he came home from work.”

“Every Friday?” He is impressed and makes a note to start bringing you flowers. Your face softened and your eyes fluttered when you spoke about it and he wants to show you that kind of love.

“Every Friday.” You confirm with an unconscious nod of your head. “My stepdad did this…He doesn’t like effort. So when they got engaged he bought her fake flowers and told her they were better because they never die. I don’t know how she fell for it.”

“That’s…” Javi makes a face of disapproval. “Efficient.” He decides tactfully, although his inner monologue is screaming ‘cheap!’.

“It sucks,” you agree flatly.

“What else can you tell me about him?” He asks. “What kind of things did he take you to do besides eat pizza?”

“He tried to get me into sports,” you snicker. “And when that failed, he started taking me to museums and the aquarium. We’d go sightseeing a lot. Play tourist in our state and the states nearby.”

“So you feel close to your father when you work.” Javi observes. “Tying back into your memories of visiting museums with your father.”

“I…” You pop the cap off of your root beer and look up at your husband in quiet surprise. “I actually never thought of it like that.”

“You haven’t?” It’s his turn to be surprised, blinking at you for a couple moments. “I had just assumed—” he gestures. “Honestly, I immediately wondered if that was why your mother insisted on history for your degree.”

“My mother just didn’t want me to study fashion.” That clarification is something that still nudges you, but it is what it is at this point. “Scott convinced her that they should pull my tuition payments if I studied something impractical. I picked history because I couldn’t stomach the idea of giving up on art altogether.”

“My mistake.” Javi does try to see the good in everyone, a terminal condition he’s afraid. “At least they didn’t want you to go the Finance route.” He huffs, threading his fingers through yours and bringing your knuckles up for a kiss.

"It's not a mistake, love. I just didn't notice the connection before."

Javi hums softly, watching you look out the window as you reconcile that.

When you seem to have digested at least a percentage of those thoughts for now, you look back to Javi with soft eyes. "Can I take you to our favorite place after lunch?"

“Absolutely.” He agrees with the quickest nod. “I want to see that.”

"It's a museum," you clarify, although you don't have to. "A living history museum of a little whaling village where the employees dress in period costume and teach you about different parts of life in a village in the mid-1800s."

“Oh!” His eyes light up. “That is amazing. I – would love to see that.”

"It's a really neat place. They used to have car shows every summer when I was a kid, too. Antique cars and fire engines." His enthusiasm is always infectious, but today in particular, it's soothing as well.

“Oh wow.” That piques his interest. “I used to have a few cars that would be considered classics, but unfortunately American cars were hard to get.” He could have imported them, but he hadn’t tried for some reason.

"You want to build your collection again, don't you?" You ask, smiling at your husband's wide eyes. "Thats why you wanted the oversized garage."

“What? No.” He chuckles softly and shakes his head. “Maybe a few cars?” He offers. “Nothing drastic. Not like the hanger of cars I had before.”

"As long as we have something that is safe and practical once we have kids." That's your bargain. Your only actual concern. What Javi does with his high earnings is up to him, especially because you're already more than comfortable even before his movie paychecks.

“I think we should get the G-Wagon for the kids.” He tells you. “It’s more reliable than a Range Rover.”

"Then we'll do a test drive when the time comes," you agree. "Once we decide we're ready and want to start trying."

“Or we can buy one now and get you used to driving it.” He offers with a grin and a small shrug. “When you don’t want to take the Porsche.”

"Test drive first?" Tempering Javi's excitement is sometimes a full-time job, but you don't mind. Not when it involves things like getting excited about your future together.

“Of course.” He agrees, nodding because he knows he can shower you with another gift. He loves giving you things. It’s how he shows you he cares.

"Agreed." You're both smiling when the pizza comes, something which happened so often in this restaurant when you were a kid that it only seems right for it to happen now. Hopefully this trip helps Javi. If not, you'll try again with a new destination. But so far it's helping you more than you thought possible.

The pizza smells amazing and he’s just happy to be here. Watching your eyes light up with happy memories of your father. Pizza should be a scene. Something to invoke those flashbacks. He bites his lip and makes a note of it.

"The trick," you tell him as the pizza gives off steam in front of you. "Is to add chili flake. It's good on its own, but I know you like spicy food as much as I do."

“Show me.” Javi is never shy about requesting to see what you mean and he’s grabbing the shaker of red chili flakes and holding it out to you.

Pulling off a slice for each of you, you dust them both with a healthy but not overwhelming amount of chili flakes, making sure to leave the rest of the pizza untouched in case he likes it better without.

“American pizza, from a movie famous place.” He’s had plenty of pizza before, he loves it, but this is special. He lifts up his slice when you do and smiles. “Thank you.”

"Of course." His smiles really do light up every room, and you beam it back at him in turn. "I'd do anything for you, mi amor. Taking you out for pizza is the least of it."

“You do so much more for me than just that.” He insists but then he’s diving into the slice with a hungry eagerness. Groaning when the taste hits him and he rolls his eyes in pleasure.

"Good?" You ask, although it's obvious from his face that he likes it.

“Amazing.” He takes another bite and wiggles slightly in his seat with his own little happy dance.

And that is how you and Javi end up eating a chili-flake-covered lunch at Mystic Pizza before heading out to Mystic Seaport. You can only laugh when he observes how half the businesses in town seem to be named after the town somehow, because he’s right. Even your hotel is the Inn at Mystic.

******

“This was just what I needed.” He throws himself back on the bed and sighs happily. He had left his laptop back in L.A., wanting to unplug, but his notebook is full of ideas and little snippets to include in the script. He rolls his head to the side. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” There’s one more surprise for him tonight, but right now you’re just glad to see him light and bright and smiling again. So much so that you open your arms to welcome him into your side without hesitation.

Javi moves closer, always eager to get closer to you. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in as he does. “You always know exactly what I need.”

"You take such good care of me," you remind him, even though he knows that very well. "I try to repay that kindness and love any time I can."

“I don’t do half of what I want to.” He promises, burrowing into your neck happily and kissing your pulse.

That makes you hum a little, and laugh along with it. "You'd go crazy if I said you could, wouldn't you?"

“Nooooooo.” He huffs, pouting slightly against your skin and answering in a tone that means the complete opposites. He absolutely would if you let him.

"Mmhmm," you giggle, tilting your head a little to give him more access but leaning in to nip at his jawline all the same. "Sure, baby."

He groans softly, shuddering at the pressure of your teeth. He loves when you are just as touchy and affectionate with him as he craves.

"I love you, baby." Murmured into his skin it's almost like a prayer, and you love the way he gravitates in toward you like a magnetic force is pulling him.

“I love you too.” It’s almost crazy how much he loves you. As if he is obsessed. He can’t even fathom how someone could have this, love like this and turn away from it. You shuffle closer and press against him, making him immediately think of touching you.

His hand finds your hip and squeezes, making you hum softly, and you lean into his touch without hesitation. "You were right..." Dragging your lips across his skin when you whisper into it makes both of you shiver. "These little getaways are fun."

“How is it for you?” He asks, even as he kisses your shoulder. “Being here?” He knows that you left on bad terms and he hopes that one day he can show you his home, knowing the turmoil would be the same for him as it has to be for you.

"It doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would," you admit, with your face still buried in his neck. "I guess it's been long enough that I'm sort of numb to a lot. Bringing you is...it's bringing the good back."

“Good.” He murmurs softly, his hand sliding up to your back to rub it gently. “I want you to lean on me if you need to.” He’s learned that he’s responsible enough to be that person, especially for you.

"I know I can. And I do." Unlearning the idea that your emotions – and existence – are a burden to your love ones has taken a while, but to make your marriage a healthy one you would do a hell of a lot harder things.

“I like it.” He admits softly. “That you can count on me.” He smiles against your skin. You snuggle closer and sigh as your hands slowly slide up and down his arms and back.

One of your hands slips under his shirt, savoring the touch of bare skin to bare skin, and you tip your chin back to be able to kiss him softly. "You're better than my sweetest dreams, amor. In every way."

He can feel the shift. The silent question you won’t voice but that you need answering. He hums, tilting his head down to meet your lips. The air growing thicker between you in those few seconds.

Javi is the best man you have ever known in your life. Period. There is no debating that for you. But it always seems to surprise you when he reminds you that he feels the same way about you. The fact that you are soulmates has knit you together so well that you wonder how you didn't just imagine each other into being. And it permeates everything – even the charge of sexual tension that comes in like a heavy fog to surround you. You're allowed to want him – your lover, your husband, your soulmate. But it still takes you by surprise sometimes and you gasp into his kiss as the feeling takes you over again.

You are his drug, his addiction. His want and need poured into you until he fears that he is obsessed. He’s aware that he has obsessive tendencies, well aware, but this is deeper. His fingers turn coaxing, sliding under your clothes as you respond to him with an enthusiasm that makes his blood sing.

His hands, disarmingly broad like the rest of him, begin a slow exploration of your skin that has nothing to do with the fact that he has every inch of you memorized. It’s coaxing and exposing, and your own needs mirror his exquisitely. The only difference for tonight is that when you peel away his clothes, he’ll be bare. But when he peels away yours, he’ll find the gorgeous little lingerie set you bought to surprise him with.

Javi loves worshiping you. Loves pressing kisses to your skin and whispering words of affection and desire to you. Always wanting to make you feel like you are the most precious thing he has, because you are. “Hermosa.” He murmurs softly, unbuttoning your pants and pulling your shirt out of it.

“Mi vida…” your answer comes on a sigh, and you shift on the bed ever so slightly to make it easier for him to start to undress you.

Fabric is peeled away. Javi finds it incredibly ironic that you love making clothes, dressing yourself, but he loves you best when you are stripped down and wearing nothing but the smile he adores.

His hands still when he finally gets your first layer discarded on the floor, finally taking a moment to drink in the dark crimson lace lingerie set you’ve been hiding under your clothes all day.

“Amor.” His eyes are greedy, so greedy as he stares at you. “You wore this for me?”

“Of course I did.” You’d excused yourself to the surprisingly spacious bathroom in first class on the plane and swapped your comfy cotton underwear for something more appealing just before landing. “I thought it was romantic. We’ve been married two months this weekend.” Which is nothing in the broad scheme of things, but you love every second spent with him and intend to celebrate.

He doesn’t know how he missed you putting this on this morning, but he’s smirking slightly as he imagines taking it off. “Two months.” He hums. “That deserves celebrating.”

“It absolutely does.” You could not agree more.

Javi memorizes this moment, the way you look up at him and he lunges down to kiss you. Letting his passion for you take over as he does.

There is a reason you hadn’t planned on doing anything on your first night of your weekend away. This was your plan. A night of forgetting the world exists while you make love to your soulmate. Could you do this anywhere? Of course. But treating Javi as the most special person in your life is a standard because he is exactly that. He has been the perfect husband in so many ways so you strive to be the perfect wife in return, and in holding yourself to those high standards you’re building something incredible together.

Now it is time to admire his gift and the only way to do that is up close. Javi’s mouth trails over the lace and silk, hands touching what his lips don’t. Whispering praises and promises in equal measure.

It's heaven, to be alone and to be indulgent with him. To be Javi's sole focus is to be the center of the universe. To be the only thing that matters in the world. It is to be worshipped, plain and simple.

He loves the skimpy, sexy little lingerie, but he enjoys ripping it off of you. “Oops.” He huffs, grinning because he’s not really sorry.

"And that," you huff, tongue firmly in cheek even as you sigh over his hands on you. "Is why I will never buy expensive lingerie."

“Is that why?” He runs his nose up your sternum. “But I really like ripping the expensive things.”

“Oh do you?” Your breath flutters along with your racing heartbeat as he drags his tongue along your skin and nips at the places he knows are most sensitive.

“I do.” He chuckles, making it sound like he is repeating his vows again.

The warmth of his breath against your skin makes you hum, and you rake your fingers through his curls to make him look up at you again. "I do too, mi amor."

He knows what you mean and his face flushes with pure pride in knowing that you chose him. Not just because of the universe saying you belong together, but because you want him.

The softness of the moment doesn’t dampen the heat, only morphing it into something with a deeper meaning, and you nudge your nose against his to steal a kiss. “You know you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, right?”

"I know that my life wasn't complete until I found you." He hums, his hands slowly reaching for yours and tangling his fingers with yours.

"Neither was mine." His hand is easy to bring to your lips, but you lean up to kiss him immediately afterward.

You take his breath away. Javi squeezes your hand as he shifts up, pressing down onto you and then he untangles his hand to push under your back and pull you closer.

When every shred of clothing is pulled away and he finally slides inside you, it feels like coming home. Your legs hitched up over his hips to hold at his waist keep him just as close as his arms do and every breath you take mingles together to become a panting sigh with every thrust and roll of hips.

Making love is his passion, his purpose. His reason for drawing this breath. Feeling connected in the most intimate way and bursting with love.

No time spent showing each other the depth of your love and devotion could ever be anything but bliss. So many nights are given over to that dedication that some of your friends have probably made sly comments about it, but you and Javi never give up the opportunity to pour your hearts and bodies into fully dedicating time to lovemaking. To worshipping each other. To proving entirely that the heart you carry on this earth belongs to each other.

“I love you.” The reverence in his words is almost mocked by the sharp snap of his hips. Desperation for you to come apart making his thrusts faster, harder. Giving you the pace that seems to drive you wild. “Fuck, I love you.”

Vows and praise echo between you, chasing that perfect release, until the moment you tumble over the edge together. The force of your orgasm brings him right along with you, leaving the two of you wrapped around each other still murmuring words of love in the afterglow.

Javi loves laying with you, just like this. Both of you sweaty and satiated, his mind drifting to the future. “I think we should start trying for a baby after the movie premiers.” He murmurs softly, stroking your arm gently as you listen to his heartbeat slow.

“That will be…” Trying to do math in your head is a little tricky when he’s just pushed all the logic out of your head, but you hum while you think. “The movie is coming out for Valentine’s Day. We could be pregnant by our first anniversary.”

“How do you feel about that?” He asks. “Too soon?” He’s worried that he’s pushing, but he’s also completely obsessed with starting your family together.

“Amor, if I hadn’t just designed a fitted silk gown for the premier, I would say the wait is too long.” You turn your head to be able to look at him fully and punctuate it with a resounding kiss. “Good thing I have plenty of time to design something else if I want to.”

“That’s why I said after the premier.” He promises, unwilling to compromise even a little about the both of you wearing a creation of your imagination to a telling of his own. It was symbolic balance in his mind.

“We can start trying a little before.” Now that he’s opened the lid on this particular can of worms, you’re excited to dream about it. “Even if I were a few months pregnant for the premiere, it would be okay.”

“Why don’t we start trying when filming ends?” He suggests. “That way it will be a little closer to the premier and you won’t have to worry about fitting into your dress?”

You bite your lip, suddenly giddy at the thought even though you know there is a whole other section of filming to be done before then. Months more of work that can't happen just yet. It's a long process but it's so, so wonderfully worth it. "Yes. That's perfect."

He looks just as equally excited and he swallows slightly, eyes suddenly suspiciously moist. “Perfect.”

Leaning up to kiss him, you don't stop trailing your lips gently across his face until you've kissed away the moisture from under his eyes well. "I'm so grateful for you, mi amor. Every day and in every possible way."

“I want to make you proud.” He murmurs. “Everyday. I want you to be proud that I am your soulmate.”

"I am proud of you." And that feeling grows every day, as remarkable as it is. "And I always will be. Just like I'll be proud to walk the red carpet with you, carry your baby, do silly little errands with you, and anything else we could ever think to do together."

******

Saturday, June 7, 2025

“Where today, amor?” Javi asks as he scoops some eggs into his fork. The diner is close to the hotel, a place you said you worked when you were in high school.

"We could walk around downtown today if you want to?" The French toast is still every bit as good as you remember it being, and so is the coffee. It's actually nice to revisit a few places, since there are still some good memories here. "Or go to the aquarium? Whichever we don't do today can be tomorrow's plan."

"What would be your perfect day?" He asks, brows up as he considers the options. "When you were younger? If you could plan a day to be as selfish as you could be and indulge in what you wanted?"

"That's what I do now." Across the table, you put your hand over his and squeeze gently, making your rings wink in the yellowed diner light. "I get my nails done with my best friend, we eat whatever we like, and have amazing jobs." He looks at your doubtfully, making the smirk bloom on your lips. "But, if we're talking about high school me? I would comb through the used books in the basement of Lavelle Books, get a frappe from Drawbridge, and...probably go walk around Mystic River Park."

“Books?” He perks up at that. Since writing screenplays, he has become a voracious reader as well. Culling ideas and images from the words better than any movie ever could. “Then that is what we will do.”

“I didn’t think you would mind the bookstore.” Javi is almost as avid a reader as you are, and the bookshelves in the little house are full to bursting. Somehow you don’t think you’ll have trouble filling the shelves of a full library when the big house is finished.

“Not at all.” He agrees. “How is your French Toast?” He asks, knowing that you had been happy to see your favorite breakfast special was still available.

“Just as good as I remember.” Nostalgia can be like that, but you still grin happily and motion toward his plate. “What do you think of your omelet?”

“It’s good.” He nods and smirks before he takes another bite. “Though it’s not as good as those you made two weeks ago.” He praises. “Those were amazing.”

“You like every breakfast better when it comes after sex,” you tease.

“What can I say?” He winks at you as the waitress walks towards you with the coffee pot. “Food tastes better when your pussy lingers on my tongue.”

“Javi!” Your hiss his name and swat playfully at his hand, but the waitress didn’t hear him. It’s just your cheeks burning with affectionate embarrassment when she gets close enough to refill your cups and drop off the check.

He laughs, grinning at you while your fluster. “Tell me I’m wrong?” He asks after thank the lady with a nod of his head and a quick flash of a polite smile.

“If I did, that would be a lie,” you point out, snatching the bill away to pay it yourself. “And I never lie to you.”

He huffs at you, frowning slightly when you pull your card out of your purse. “Use the credit card, amor.” He chides. “That is what it is for.” He shakes his head, slightly amused because he’s never met a woman so unwilling to spend his money in all his life.

“I want to treat my soulmate in my hometown,” you insist. “This was part of my dream when I was little too.”

He grunts, sure that you are making that up, but he doesn’t argue with you. “Fine.”

“Yeah,” you smirk, always ready to pay him a compliment. “You definitely are a fine looking man.”

He rolls his eyes, but there is a hint of a pull to his lips as he lifts his coffee cup.

After you finish your last cups of coffee, you decide to leave the rental car in the lot nearby where you parked it and walk, heading through town toward your old favourite bookstore which sits at the mouth of the boardwalk. It actually is a cute little town when you look at it through the eyes of a tourist and you're glad you decided to bring Javi here. The chance to clear his head and to put some distance between you and the bad memories of your hometown is worth it.

There is something almost idyllic about strolling through a small town with your hand folded into his. Charming in its simplicity and comforting in the small smiles and nods of acknowledgement from residents as you pass by. Shops are open, welcoming. Eye catching displays making both of you pause as you make your way past.

The trip to your favorite bookstore ends in needing to purchase a canvas bag so you can carry the heavy load of new-to-you books, but Javi happily shoulders the weight and takes your hand again while you head off down the boardwalk again — explaining as you go that a frappe is just a kind of milkshake and it’s not some earth-shattering new sweet that he’s been missing out on his whole life.

“So we could make this at home?” He asks, tilting his head as he tries to understand beyond just the memory attached to it.

“Absolutely.” The ice cream shop is in sight, and you point out the bustling storefront to him. “I’m pretty sure I can get malted powder on the internet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it in a store and that’s the secret ingredient.”

“Malted powder?” Now he frowns as he looks over you. “Like Whoppers?” He loves American candies and would have them shipped over for this movie theatre candy hoard.

You giggle, delighted that he made the connection but also at the adorable look of confusion on his face. “Yup.”

“Interesting.” He hums, smiling at your obvious happiness. “You have never shown me any food or drink that you love that I have not adored.” He reminds you. “I am sure I will be obsessed.”

“You’re going to love it.” It’s not exactly a difficult prediction, considering how much he loves sweets. But you’re more than comfortable in the assumption that you’re going to be ordering malted powder to be delivered to the house in California for when you get home.

“I suppose you are buying this too?” He asks with a hint of amusement in his voice. He’s gonna let you do whatever you want, but you hadn’t even let him buy the book at the store. This weekend apparently is completely your treat.

“Yes, I am.” It’s ice cream. Even at your brokest, this splurge would be reasonable. At the door to the ice cream shop, you turn around to kiss him. “And since you’re being so good about indulging me this weekend, I promise that whatever your next whim is for a treat or a splurge, I won’t make a single comment about it.”

“Not one little word?” His brows shoot up and he’s grinning. Knowing that you would at least pout at him.

“Pinky promise,” you swear, holding out your little finger to him.

He looks at it and then back at you before he hooks his finger with yours and chuckles. “Good.”

Inside Mystic Drawbridge Ice Cream, Javi lights up with the size of the menu and the bustle of families alone tends enjoying the weekend. Your arms are slung around each other’s waists to keep close and you tick your hand into the back pocket of his jeans, reveling in the weathered material and the fact that he chose to pack one of the shirts you made for him to wear today. There’s a nice hit of nostalgia here too, and you point out one or two people you used to know to him discreetly as you wait in line.

“You went on a date with him?” Javi frowns slightly, not even realizing that his grip on your waist tightens slightly, possessively. As if this one date wonder could someone steal you away from him.

“Once, amor.” Even though you’d just said it, you still punctuate the fact that you’d only gone on one date with this particular boy the one time. “We went to a movie and he talked through the whole thing. In the theater.”

"A crime." He nods sagely, as if that told him everything he needed to know about that particular man. "It is good you did not waste anymore time on such a man."

“See?” You grin and kiss his cheek. “You get it.”

He’s placated and grumbles slightly, feeling foolish for being so annoyed by this previous date.

“I’m sure there are plenty of women in your past I would be much more jealous of.” But only because you love him, and because you wish you had had so many more years with him.

"None of them hold a candle to you." Not even Gabriela, as much as that would surprise anyone who had known about the torch he had carried for her for years. It pales in comparison to what he feels for you.

“And none of mine hold a candle to you, either.” They never could, and you cuddle into his side happily.

“So what is your milkshake going to be?” He asks, looking at the positively dizzying array of options. “Remind me.”

“Chocolate peanut butter with malted powder.” It isn’t worth reminding him that they’re called frappes here, although he did seem entertained by the word earlier. “It’s my old standard.”

“That sounds good.” He agrees. “But they have a one that tastes like bacon?” His eyes widen as he rereads the description.

“The American obsession with bacon knows no bounds,” you grin. “Are you going to try it?”

“Salted caramel, bacon and malted powder.” He grunts and shrugs. “Why not?”

Your grin grows. “Can we trade tastes? It does sound good.”

"Absolutely." He answers with a grin of his own. "I want to taste what you would crave when you were suffering from your period."

“That is a long list,” you admit, laughing at the thought. “I wonder if it will be similar to anything I crave when I’m pregnant? I have no idea if that is how that works or not.”

“It would be fun to create a list and compare.” He suggests, beaming at the thought of pregnancy cravings. “Keep a tally and see if it’s changes as you get farther along.”

“We’ll have to make a list,” you decide. “And keep track. A column for each baby, if there is more than one.”

“Yes.” There might not be more than one, but he has a feeling that there would be.

When the two of you finally make it to the front of the line, you place your order with the teenager there and thank her as she goes to make it, then step down to the register only to find another familiar face waiting for you — your former next door neighbor is wearing a shiny pin that reads Manager and smiling in a way that is both so broad and so tight that it makes you cringe inwardly with how fake it is.

Javi feels you stiffen, turning his head to glance at you and he recognizes the fake smile you use on the most difficult of guests. There’s only one explanation for it, so he turns to the person at the register and smiles broadly. “I have heard nothing but good things about this place.” He gushes. “Excited to try the frappe.”

“I’m surprised you’ve heard anything about this place.” She says with a layer of false pep.

“It’s good to see you, too, Gillian,” you lie.

Someone you know. Javi squeezes your hip gently, a reminder that he is with you. A steady shoulder for you to lean on if you need. Obviously not your mother, but someone old enough to be your parent. You had grown up knowing her. “She has been looking forward to another one of this all morning.” Javi adds.

“Has she?” Gillian’s eyebrows raise is as imperious as ever.

“Yes, I have.” Matter of fact and mildly pleasant is where you keep your tone, and you hand over your debit card.

“Oh, Gutierrez, how exotic.” She pretends to fawn after inspecting your card unnecessarily. “When did that happen?” Not that it’s any of her business. Not that she cares beyond obtaining gossip.

“A few months.” The expression you shoot Javi is apologetic. “Javi, Gillian was my next door neighbor growing up. Gillian, this is my husband, Javi.”

Javi’s smile stiffens at her reaction to his last name. Not unused to the slight. He nods to her when she looks up, judgement in her eyes and he wants to scoff at the audacity of it all. “Sweetheart, don’t use your debit card.” He tells you smoothly. “Fraud happens all the time, especially at point of sale locations.” The implication is just as light as it can be, but it’s still there. “Use your other card.”

“Of course, you’re right.” Your eyes tick up to his and you smile but it’s a reassuring thing. You’re always going to be on his side, especially when he’s responding to a petty veiled insult with one of his own. You slip your debit card back into your wallet out of sight and come out with your black AmEx card instead.

Gillian’s eyes widen and she takes the card quickly, insulted but she can’t say much. “This is rare.” She hums.

There are so many backhanded replies you could make. Insults about how it’s not rare in your circles. How you’re sure someone else must have paid with a credit card before. But as cross as you are with her for being a casual racist, you’re not trying to start a fight. “Oh?” You settle for, with an innocent tone. “My soulmate takes such good care of me.”

“Soulmate?” That startles her, making her nearly drop the card as her eyes dart back and forth between you and Javi.

“Soulmate.” You smile again and it’s full of polite ice. There’s no reason to ask what she’s up to or how she is. You wouldn’t have cared even if she hadn’t been rude. Gillian is not only your former neighbor, she’s your former bully.

“Well, that’s...nice.” It’s also unexpected since your parents had always contended you didn’t have a soulmate. She runs the card quickly and hands it back. “Your order will be up shortly.”

"Thanks." There is no more small talk, no false pleasantries. You simply shift down the counter after tucking your card back in your wallet and lean into Javi's side as you wait for your name to be called.

“That was…unpleasant.” Javi murmurs to you softly. “But I am proud of you. You handled her with grace, more than she deserves.”

"You just met my childhood bully," you mumble under your breath, disguising it by leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Gillian lived next door when I was growing up. Our parents were friends, so we were forced to spend a lot of time together."

Javi blinks, startled and he looks back and forth between the two of you several times. “No.” He huffs. “There is—” he shakes his head adamantly, “no way the two of you are close in age.” He looks back over at her. “She looks older than me.”

You barely manage to stop yourself from snorting. "I guess being a heinous bitch makes you ugly on the outside as well as the inside. Eventually, anyway."

“Is that why you are so gorgeous?” He coos, leaning in and kissing you softly on the cheek. He’s aware that he can’t make out would you - this is a family establishment - but anyone who sees the two of you would see a man desperately in love.

"Such flattery," you huff, nudging him as if to deny it, except that he finds your cheek burning with pleased embarrassment when he kisses it. "I love you, too."

The machines make a lot of noise, but within minutes two frappes appear and Gillian has vanished into the back. Javi picks them up, adding straws and an extra shake of chocolate sprinkles just because before bringing you your drink.

"Shall we walk?" The urge to get out of your beloved ice cream shop is disappointing but very real. "Promenade on the boardwalk like your film characters would do?"

“Show me exactly what you would do on a date.” He grins, nodding as he offers you his hand.

It's a good walk, out to the end of the boardwalk about back, and you take it slow. Peaking into shop windows, looking out at boats on the water. Joking about what you would name a boat if you ever got one. You trade sips of your drinks – both are good, but you each like the flavor you ordered better than the other – and sigh happily in the sun. It's a beautiful, warm, and the unpleasantness of running into Gillian is forgotten in no time.

“Would you ever want to live here again?” Javi asks, watching as you crane your neck to check out something that is apparently different in the small town. “It reminds me of Hollowstone.” He tells you. “From Gilmore Girls.”

"Stars Hollow?" You grin at him and nuzzle into his side. "No, I don't think so. I mean yes it is like that, but I love California. And besides, our house is being built as we speak. I wouldn't want to give that up for the world."

“You wouldn’t have to.” He promises. “Just- if you wanted to have a place here, I wouldn’t be upset about it.”

"If we ever had a second house...a vacation house or whatever? I wouldn't want it to be here." There are too many bad memories. Too much negativity even on beautiful and relatively peaceful days like this one. "If we had to pick between your first home and my first home? I would much rather have a place in Mallorca so you can go home again whenever you miss it."

He’s initially surprised by your answer but then he realizes he shouldn’t be. You continually put his happiness in front of your own, as he does the same with you. It sometimes causes frustrations but he bites his lip as he smiles. “Perhaps one day.” He decides. “We would have to have a boat.” He tells you with a grin. “It’s a must.”

"Well then, we would have to name the boat, too." Right now it's just a dream. An idle one, granted, but one you enjoy. The thought of bringing your kids back to their father's home in the summer sounds magical. You can practically see them playing on the beach and chasing a stray dog through the spray. Stray...or maybe yours...who knows. "What would you name a boat, amor?"

“Happiest Ever After.” He hums as he looks over at you. “Because that is what it would be.”

“And yet you don’t want to let me name our son after you.” Even as you tut slightly, you still smile up at him with soft eyes. “It’s a very sweet idea.”

“Javi Jr. is a horrible name.” He huffs, but he’s secretly pleased that you would want to have your son carry his name completely.

“Fine,” you narrow your eyes at him and grin. “Javiera for a girl.”

He rolls his eyes and blows a raspberry at you before he finishes his drink and steers you towards a trash can to throw the empty cup away.

“I’m taking that as a yes.” You decide, and smother his face in kisses to prove how delightful you fund the concession.

“You know you have final say on the names anyway.” His own father had demanded his mother name him Antonio, and see how that worked out? She had pushed him out, so she had named him. Javi didn’t see anything wrong with that thinking at all.

“I’d prefer us to agree,” you tell him honestly, linking your arm through his when you start walking again. “We’re both going to be their parents.”

“Yes we are.” He agrees, “but you grow them. That gives you a slight advantage.”

"Perhaps." You shrug. "But only slight."

He grins, shrugging slightly. “Then you should know I want to name our son Carmelo.” He teases.

It wouldn't be your first choice, but for all you know it's the name of some dear childhood friend or a beloved uncle, so you just nod. "We'll put it on the list. By the time I'm actually pregnant we'll have a list a mile long."

Javi laughed, shaking his head. “No, we will have already picked out four names for boys and girls.” He predicts.

"Only four each?" His specificity brings a smile to your face, making you laugh a little and you shrug your shoulders. "Maybe so. Who knows. We have quite a lot of time before the premiere."

“First and middle names.” He adds.

"First and middle." You laugh all over again and drag him over to the nearest bench, taking the opportunity of an empty place to sit to cuddle into Javi's side in a new setting. From here, you can look out over the water and people watch as well as boat watch. You're quite for a long time before you lean your head against his shoulder and sigh. "I always like the name Lila."

“Lila.” He smiles softly as he tries the name out on his tongue. “I like that.” He agrees. “It’s soft, sweet, like our little girl will be.”

"Maybe." A peace settles over both of you and you hug him a little tighter. "Hopefully."

The water is soothing, like it always is, although there’s a coolness to the wind that isn’t present at home. He hums and tugs you closer. “What else do you want to do today, sweetheart?” He asks.

“I don’t care,” you hum. “As long as you’re here, we can just sit here all night and it would be perfect for me. We can do whatever will help you most in writing your script.”

“What would be a good restaurant for dinner after a day date like this?” He asks. “For a couple that doesn’t want it to end?”

“There are a couple of oysters bars in town, and I read on the plane about some new Italian places.” When he raises an eyebrow at you, you grin sheepishly. “There’s an incredible place an hour away, but I don’t know if you want to go all the way to Rhode Island to eat the same seafood you would get here.” An hour in California is nothing. It’s peanuts. It’s your daily commute to work, in fact. But out here in New England, an hour each way is a day trip.

“And would it impress you if your date suggested it?” He asks, already deciding to write a scene just like this for the screenplay.

“Yes…” You squint at him suspiciously. “But there are oysters bars in town. Just because there’s also a good one out by the beach in Rhode Island doesn’t mean we have to go there.”

“And there is a jukebox in this oyster bar?” He asks. “Maybe a dance floor?”

That makes your expression crack, and you go from wary to endeared instantly. “They have live music on the weekends if you sit on the rooftop. And yes, some people dance.”

“And I’m assuming this oyster bar is also on the water?” He guesses, winking at you. “So after the perfect day together, learning everything they can about each other and falling a little bit in love, they go to this oyster bar and eat, have a drink or two and then slow dance to something incredibly romantic playing through an old corner jukebox?”

“It’s beautifully romantic.” Somehow he manages to do this regularly — taking things that are very nice on their own and turning them into the most romantic sounding thing you’ve ever heard. This restaurant your family used to like to go out to for special occasions is now the perfect date night destination with almost no effort whatsoever. “It will be the perfect scene.”

“Only if there is a kiss during the dance.” He murmurs, staring into your eyes and wondering how he got so damn lucky with you.

“I can guarantee it.” Here. There. Anywhere in the world. If the girl in his script is you and the boy she falls in love with is anything like him? She’d be a fool not to kiss him.

“Then we should flesh out the scene.” He hums. “See this perfect romantic spot for their first kiss.”

“Back to the rental car, then?” You won’t let this moment pass without kissing him, though, and that sweet little bench by the boardwalk is momentarily your perfect romantic spot.

Javi smiles into the kiss, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer. The salt air just adds to the romance of the moment and there’s a moment where he swears his heart skips a beat with the easy joy of being with you.

The stern sound of a throat clearing is what breaks you out of your paradise and forces you back to earth, but only momentarily. You have every intention of telling the prudish busybody to fuck off so you can go back to making out with your husband — but the curse dies on your tongue when you open your eyes to find a familiar figure looming over your fairy tale bench.

“Hi Mom.”

Javi’s eyes widen, head turning to see the woman you are addressing with more than a little concern. He had understood you didn’t want to see your parents and apparently they have tracked you down or run into you by a cruel kind of happenstance. “Your mother?”

“My mother.”

The disbelief in her expression is matched only by her disapproval, and she opens her mouth once before shutting it again to recompose herself and then trying again. “Tell me why I had to find out you were visiting town from Gillian MacCauly instead of from my own daughter.” She demands. It is not a request or a question in any way.

“Gillian married Andy MacCauly?” You cringe slightly and look back at Javi. “So that’s why she’s miserable.”

“Also a horrible person.” He nods in understanding before he looks over at your mother. “Because she did not wish for you to know she was here.” He answers for you.

Your mother’s eyes bug and she looks positively gob smacked, but you shrug. “I wanted to show my husband my hometown. Not be treated to a guilt trip and verbal abuse. So I didn’t call.”

Her eyes flicker down to your left hand, mouth opening slightly at the impressive ring set on your finger. Making Javi extremely proud that he had chosen the rings that he wanted to give you. “She said you had married.” She frowns, apparently not even remembering your courtesy call.

“I did call the day of the wedding,” you remind her. “We had a soulmate ceremony so there wasn’t loads of planning or bunches of guests. Apparently your own husband elected not to tell you?” Or she forgot, which is equally likely. If her golden child isn’t involved, she doesn’t care much.

She frowns at the criticism and huffs. “Don’t talk about your father that way.”

"My father died when I was a kid." Still seated on the bench, tangled up in Javi and bolstered by his presence, you feel brave. "I never should have started calling your husband Dad, but I was a scared kid. Not a problem I have anymore."

Her mouth drops open and she practically sputters in disbelief that you would be so brazenly disrespectful. “He raised you, cared for you.” She hisses. “He is the only reason we survived.”

“If that’s true,” which you doubt, for various reasons. The first of which being that you remember hearing talk about a life insurance policy way back when you were too young to understand what that meant. “Then good. But while he may have helped raise me, he has never loved me.“ And neither has she. Not since he came along.

He can feel how you are tense, hates that this has ruined a beautiful moment, but he’s proud of you for not backing down from her. His hand strokes your arm, but he doesn’t say anything yet.

“He loved you.” She protests. “You make things so difficult.”

“Maybe I do.” Feeling uncannily calm on the outside despite how hard your heart is beating in this moment of finally standing up to your mother, you simply shrug one shoulder. “Maybe I’ve always been a bad kid and I didn’t realize it. Maybe you were right to favor Tony. But I’m done wondering and I’m done worrying.”

Her brow furrows at she opens her mouth to speak but Javi decides that it’s time to say something. “I could never imagine choosing someone - even a lover - over my child.” He tells her quietly. “Even if I was lonely and had lost my soulmate.” He looks at you tenderly. “She is the last connection to your soulmate you have, and you abandoned her for a man who obviously has contempt for that.” He looks at her. “Shame on you. The man your daughter has described would be ashamed of his other half.”

“I think it’s probably time for us to go, don’t you?” You ask Javi, not even bothering to consult your mother in the decision. It isn’t hers to make and even on the longest odds in the world she would only invite you to dinner to talk down to you.

Your mother, for her part, looks stricken by Javi’s words. Like he had slapped her. “I agree, amor.” He murmurs softly, standing and reaching for your hand to help you up.

“By the way?” It’s a striking realization, that you’re taller than your mother now. She always seemed so intimidating in the past. “Billie told me why Auntie Kay stopped talking to you. So don’t pretend to be blindsided by the idea that you mistreated me.”

Javi curls his arm around your waist protectively and glances back at your mother one more time. “Do not call her unless you wish to apologize.” He tells her. “And then, it will be up to her if she accepts.” He doesn’t wait for her to answer, just guides you away.

Leaving your mother standing, flabbergasted, in the middle of the boardwalk as you walk away in the arms of your soulmate with your head held high and your heart hammering makes you feel like a superhero. There was no screaming. No fighting. No physical altercation. No scene was made. You were calm and you stood your ground, and as Javi guides you back toward the parked rental car you clutch his hand in relief as much as your own shock. “Now that,” you whisper with wide eyes, “is something I wish I had done in high school.”

“How are you feeling?” Javi knows he was nothing but a riot of emotions when he had completely broken ties with his family, as horrible as they were. Even now, he sometimes feels guilty about Lucas, although he knows he deserves it.

“I’m not sure?” You admit. You might laugh or cry or shake apart at a moment’s notice. Either way, you hold to him like a lifeline. “I’ll set the gps for the restaurant but would you mind driving?”

“Do you still want to go?” He asks seriously. Even though it had seemed like a wonderful idea, you might not be so sure now and that’s okay with him. Even if you just wanted to go back to the hotel, he would be ready to take you. “Completely your call, sweetheart.”

“Honestly?” You sag against his side. “At this point I almost think we check out of the hotel here and go spend the rest of the weekend in Rhode Island. But I think that’s just my instinct to flee the scene.”

“If it will protect your peace, that’s exactly what we will do.” He promises.

In looking up at him, you smother an embarrassed sigh. “I don’t want to ruin your trip.”

“Baby, nothing you can ever do would ruin my trip.” He stops and turns towards you, his eyes seriously focused on yours. “Because I’m with you.” He murmurs softly. “And that is all I need.”

“I’m sorry.” Still rattled from the encounter, you’re sure you’re shaking a little with his hands on your arms. “I just…I guess I figured the town was big enough that we wouldn’t actually see my parents. I really didn’t expect this…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” His lips are in your hair, pressing a kiss to your brow. “Why don’t we go back to the room and order room service? Or delivery. Whatever you want.”

“That’s a less dramatic response.” He’s right. You don’t need to flee. You just need to be safe with your partner and try to let out some of the tension that is clinging to you. “Maybe we can use the jacuzzi and order a bottle of wine? Just try to relax.”

“I’ll order two bottles.” He promises with a smile and a kiss for your lips.

“I love you.” For better or for worse. You had promised it in your vows, and Javi is more than living up to his side of the bargain.

“I love you too.” He knows how to get back to the hotel, so he guides you towards the passenger seat. “We will order some wine, and see what they have in their menu. Maybe an appetizer or something? Then we can decide what else sounds good.”

"That sounds perfect." Though you would prefer to curl into his side, you tuck yourself into the passenger seat and buckle in, then pull out your phone to send Billie and Auntie Kay a quick text in the group chat that the three of you share. They deserve to know that some heat might fly their way, though you don't really expect your mother to do anything but bluster and play the victim.

“Your town is beautiful.” He tells you as he starts the car and backs out of the parking spot. “So many places to get lost in. Seek refuge.”

"I wanted you to see the best parts of it," you murmur, tucking your phone away as he pulls out of the parking lot. "Only the best."

“The best part about this trip is watching you enjoy things that you would have when you lived here.” He admits.

"We should go to the aquarium tomorrow, then." It was your other childhood favourite, and right now you just want to remember something nice and push away the bitter taste in your mouth.

“Then let’s go.” He tosses you an encouraging smile. “I want to see if there are different species here on the east coast.”

"Probably." And when you're out of the car again, you will smother him in ample kisses in thanks for being so sweet about the whole thing. "I guess we'll have to go and find out."

“We will.” He agrees, winking at you when he comes to a stop sign. “Does this aquarium have a tunnel?” He asks.

"Of course," you gasp, clutching invisible pearls and pretending to be aghast that he would even ask.

“Good.” He chuckles and nods. “Then we will have to make out in it and pretend we are mermaids.”

"Perfect." Laughing feels so good. Like such a relief. And it's purely thanks to Javi.

“Thought you would like that idea.” He’s happy you laughed, needing to hear it after watching you with your mother.

"I love all of your ideas." Even when they're over the top. Even when they're a little crazy. Everything is still always wonderful in the end.

He pulls into the parking lot and grins. “So then let me suggest something else tomorrow after the aquarium?”

"Whatever you want, baby," you promise him, grateful that the hotel isn't far from downtown.

“Why don’t we find a place for a couple’s massage?” He asks.

"Spa afternoon?" Tilting your head at him, your obvious interest is rewarded with a kiss before you both climb out of the car. "That sounds beautiful, actually."

“Good.” He grins when you almost instantly agree. “Fluffy robes, champagne, saunas and massages.” He winks again. “We will feel like new people.”

"We'll sleep like babies all the way back home." Your overnight flight was already aimed at being relaxing, now it would be even more so.

“Yes we would.” He agrees. “The perfect ending to our weekend adventure.”

“I’m sorry the whole thing wasn’t perfect.” He’ll tut at that, but it’s true. This afternoon and this evening are not the fairy tale that the rest of the trip has been. “But thank you for standing up for me.”

“I will always stand up for you.” He knows you will also stand up for him, but after being powerless against Lucas for so long, he will not be silent when someone he loves is hurt, never again will someone rob you of your peace. He has changed and he likes to believe it’s for the better.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

TUWOP: @inept-the-magnificent @missladym1981 @sunnytuliptime @iamladyp @spishsstuff @famouslyanonymous

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Javi Gutierrez #Javi Gutierrez x you #Javi Gutierrez x reader #Javi Gutierrez x female reader #Javi Gutierrez x f!reader #Javi G #TUWOMT #the unbearable weight of massive talent #soulmate au

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worth-the-chaos · 1 year ago

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Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 14

Chapter Summary: Nancy and Robin take a shot in the dark and Steve tries to protect you from the supernatural. When the darkness comes to get you, will his love be enough to protect you?

Content Warning: Upside Down scary stuff, swearing

Word Count: 6.0k

Author’s Note: Sorry this chapter took longer; I’m involved in a lot at college and I’m in some executive positions in the organizations I’m a part of and somehow everything is going wrong at the same time (yay!) so I’ve been putting out a lot of fires (like a girl boss of course). I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Message me to be added to the taglist and get updated when the next chapter is posted!

Series Masterlist | Part 13 | Next Part

***

“Do you guys understand any of this?” Steve asked Lucas and Dustin as the three of them sat in the Wheelers’ basement. He was staring at the words on the article Nancy and Robin had found and none of it was making any sense to him. He was scared. Not knowing what was going to happen to you and when was tearing him apart and he needed to understand so that he could find some way to fix it. To protect you.

To save you.

A chill ran down his spine as he thought about it. He thought back to the way you had stood there, locked inside your own body and twitching slightly as you were trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t wake you from. He thought back to your activities afterwards. How you felt when he had shown you just how much he loved you. The way your body moved against his. He thought about how you were all he ever wanted—no, needed—and he couldn’t bear the thought of living a life without you in it.

“It’s pretty straightforward,” Dustin stared at him judgmentally.

“Oh, ‘straightforward’? Really?” Steve asked, not adoring the condescension in the freshman’s tone.

“So far, everyone Vecna has cursed has died, except for this old Victor Creel dude that Nancy found. He’s the only known survivor. If anyone knows how to beat this curse, it’s him,” Dustin explained. Steve could see a glint of optimism in the young boy’s eyes and he desperately wished he felt the same way. This situation just felt so hopeless though. How the fuck were they supposed to combat an otherworldly threat when the attacks were occurring cross-dimensionally?

“That’s assuming he was even cursed, Henderson, which we just don’t know,” Steve spat back, frustrated with the lack of answers. “How could Vecna have existed in the 50s? It just doesn’t make sense.”

Steve dragged a hand down his face in an attempt to keep his frustration at bay. He snapped his head up when he heard your voice lilt down the stairs, getting closer as you descended them.

“As far as we know, Eleven didn’t create the Upside Down; she just opened a gate to it,” you specified as you joined the group. Steve was quick to throw an arm around your waist, pulling you into him. Now that you knew that your time may be limited, Steve was extremely touchy. It was as if he thought that holding onto you would prevent another vision. You knew better, but still leaned into him, soaking up the comfort of his affection. You flushed as you remembered your activities from last night, desperately wishing that you had more time so that you could have more nights wrapped up in each other’s presence.

“Yeah, the Upside Down has probably existed for thousands of years…millions even. I wouldn’t be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs,” Dustin hypothesized, and you glanced over to see Lucas roll his eyes a bit. You couldn’t help but chuckle. Even at the end of the world, those kids could still make you laugh.

“Dinosaurs? What are we even talking about? Come on Dustin, you can’t just—“ Steve started but Lucas cut him off to refocus the conversation.

“Okay, but if there wasn’t a gate in the 50s, how did Vecna get through? How is he getting through now?”

“And why now?” You added.

“And why then? What he just pops out in the 50s, kills one family and he’s like, ‘I’m good’ just to come back thirty years later to kill some random teens? No offense,” Steve quickly added the last part turning to you as you glared up at him. You rolled your eyes and pulled away from him a bit before reaching into your back pocket.

“I almost forgot,” you said, fishing three sealed envelopes out of your back pocket. “These are for you guys.”

You handed them the envelopes. Steve furrowed his brows as he looked at you confused, studying the sealed letter in his hand. Dustin began to open it but you stopped him quickly. “No! What are you doing? That’s not for now. Don’t open it now!”

“Okay,” Dustin replied confused, stopping his previous movements. “I’m sorry, but what is this?” He held up the envelope and waved it slightly to emphasize his question.

“It’s…it’s a fail-safe,” you answered, your voice small. You caught Steve’s expression fall as you said it and you felt your heart ache in your chest as you thought about how you wouldn’t be able to be there for him to help him grieve. You felt a pang of guilt as you realized you would be the one causing his pain. “For after…you know, if things don’t work out.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, y/n?” Steve took a step towards you and grabbed your hand.

“Steve,” you looked him in the eyes, a pained expression across your face. Before he could continue arguing with you, Nancy, Robin, and Max bounded down the stairs. You all turned your attention towards the girls as Nancy opened her mouth to speak.

“Okay…we have a plan,” she smiled at all of you and suddenly you felt a feeling in your chest that you hadn’t felt in a while:

Hope.

You all quickly moved to sit on the various couches in the basement, Steve sitting next to you with a hand on your thigh as you listened to Nancy’s game plan.

“Than’s to Nancy’s newspaper minions, we are now rockstar psychology students at the University of Notre Dame,” Robin started, handing you and Steve each a folder containing the fraudulent academic files for one Ruth and Rose.

“Nice GPA,” you smirked, looking at Nancy and she smiled back at you. It felt nice to be optimistic for once.

“So we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we’d like to speak with Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics—“ Nancy continued, but Max cut her off, having been there for the whole conversation.

“To which they said no,” the redhead explained.

“But, we landed a three o’clock with the director. Now all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor,” Robin added on.

“Yeah, we’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework,” Steve started, holding up the article printout, “We’ve got a lot of questions.”

“A lot,” Lucas emphasized.

“So do we. Hopefully Victor has the answers,” Nancy answered.

“Wait a second,” you spoke up, staring down at the file folder in your hand. “Where’s mine?”

“What?” Nancy’s face scrunched up, clearly confused by your question.

“I said, where’s mine?” You repeated yourself, holding up the file folder, your jaw beginning to set as you realized you weren’t being included.

“You’re not going,” Nancy replied, reaching over to grab the file from you.

“I think the fuck I am!” You stood up quickly, pulling the folder out of her reach. Steve quickly grabbed you by your belt loop, rolling his eyes and tugging you back down to sit next to him. You sat in a huff and he quickly pulled the folder away from you. “Hey!”

“Y/n, you’re not going. End of discussion,” he said plainly, handing the folder back to Nancy.

“I can’t do anything here Nancy! Maybe I could help with this asylum director guy….or-or-or I could ask Victor the right questions; I know what it’s like after all,” you defended yourself, but you could tell by the looks you were getting that no one was going to change their mind. Nancy opened her mouth to speak, but Robin spoke up before she could get a word out.

“Look, y/n. It’s too dangerous. Just let us do the heavy lifting, and you stay here where it’s safe.”

“Nowhere is safe, Robin. It doesn’t make a damn difference where the fuck I am,” you spat. Robin’s heart sank at your words because they were true; it didn’t really matter where you were. Vecna would find you regardless.

“Y/n, if you won’t do it for yourself, would you do it for me?” Steve spoke up. The expression on his face made you break, letting out an angry puff of air before you responded.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, quickly standing up and going upstairs. Your eyes were welling with tears and you didn’t want everyone to see you in your vulnerable state, even if it was completely understandable. Steve started to stand to go after you, but Dustin stopped him.

“Just, let me try and handle this,” the boy spoke up. Steve wasn’t sure why he was letting him, but shrugged. He knew how much you cared about the kids, especially Henderson, so it was worth a shot at least.

“Y/n?” Dustin asked after he had ascended the staircase. He caught sight of you wiping tears from your eyes before you were able to turn away and hide it.

“What do you want Dustin?” You asked, your voice sounding watery as you continued to cry, a small sob escaping your body.

“We’re doing everything we can,” he started, “and I know it doesn’t feel like enough, but it’s the best we can do. And I know you want to be in on all of the action, but I think it’s okay for you to take the backseat on this one.”

“I can’t just sit around here doing nothing,” you cried out, still trying to gain your composure as you turned around, wiping at the tears falling down your face. “I mean, I just…I just want to be out there so-so I can fix it. I don’t want any of you guys getting hurt,” you added, trying to swallow the lump in your throat as you looked at Dustin.

“Then stay here and protect us. Okay? You’ve always done a kick-ass job at it, so be here for us now. The most important thing is that when all is said and done, you’re still here. So let Nancy and Robin sort it out because I know they will. We all will,” Dustin reassured you. You walked over to the boy and pulled him into a tight hug. You still felt guilty about the way he had to grow up so fast, fighting unimaginable horrors while trying to figure out who he was and where he fit in. You couldn’t even imagine what that would have been like at his age.

With the pang in your chest, you felt pain return to your head, groaning as you let go of Dustin and put a hand to your temples. You felt something warm trickle from your nose, reaching up to wipe at it, fresh blood smearing across the back of your hand.

“Y/n, are-are you okay?” Dustin stared up at you, wide-eyed and frantic. You took a deep breath and the pain subsided a little, as you nodded at the boy.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” You replied, giving him a weak smile in an attempt to hide the many ways you were not in fact okay.

You tried to take your own words to heart as the two of you made your way back down to the basement.

I’m still here.

***

Nancy and Robin had gone off to go try and talk to Victor Creel, leaving you, Steve, Lucas, Dustin, and Max to twiddle your thumbs in the Wheelers’ basement while you waited for answers that likely weren’t coming. You were sat next to Steve and he was running his warm hand in circles across your back as you sat there, head in your hands and foot anxiously tapping.

You were restless. You couldn’t sit here doing nothing; you had loose ends to tie up in case Nancy and Robin’s investigation didn’t turn up roses. You needed to make sure you were ready to leave this world behind, and presently you weren’t.

Suddenly you stood up, causing Steve to jump as he had zoned out, his thoughts drifting elsewhere before your sudden movement had brought him back to the present. You marched across the room and picked up Dustin’s walkie.

“If we go to East Hawkins, will this still reach Pennhurst?” You asked, inspecting the gadget in your hand.

“Of course, yeah,” Dustin replied.

“Woah, why are we talking about East Hawkins?” Steve stood up, taking a slow step towards you. He looked concerned and confused; a brutal combination. You gave him a look that immediately had his anxiety skyrocketing. “No…no! Absolutely not!”

You paused, you and Steve staring each other down as if you were about to have a shootout in an old western movie. Much like reaching for the draw, you slowly reached into your pocked, grabbing the contents before lifting your hand up and dangling Steve’s car keys in between you. His mouth gaped open, his mind not quick enough to process what was happening before you grabbed your backpack off a folding chair and bolted up the stairs.

Steve stood frozen for a second, in disbelief that any of this could really be real before darting after you. “Y/n! Y/n, come back here! I’m serious!”

It didn’t do much to stop you, seeing as you were already out the door quickly pacing towards the familiar BMW. “Y/n…Y/n! Seriously, I’m not fucking joking. I’m not driving you anywhere!” Steve shouted after you as he started to catch up.

“Steve, if you think I’m going to spend what might possibly be the last day of my fucking life in the armpit that is Mike Wheeler’s basement, then you’re out of your mind,” you shot back, still sauntering towards the car. If your life wasn’t in jeopardy, Steve would have thought it was hot; the swish of your hips, the way your hair bounced with each assertive step you took, the way your jeans hugged your ass. But now was not the time to get distracted.

“I don’t think you heard me, y/n. I’m not fucking driving you.”

“Oh I heard you loud and clear, Harrington. But if you won’t drive me, then I guess I’ll have to drive myself,” you said, unlocking the driver’s side door to Steve’s car.

“Um, fuck no!” Steve exclaimed, putting a hand on his car door to hold it shut as you attempted to open it. You whipped around, your eyes shooting daggers at your boyfriend. His face was mere inches away from yours as he leaned on his arm, his bodyweight keeping the door shut tight. You continued to stare into his eyes, your stern expression causing his to break as he sighed and relented, dropping his arm in exasperation. “Fine. But I’m driving.”

You tossed him the keys as you smirked, walking around the car as you eagerly hopped into the passenger seat.

“That was kind of wild,” Lucas mumbled to Dustin and Max who all stood dumbfounded by the encounter between the two of you.

“Yeah, she’s got him wrapped around her finger,” Max chuckled, “good for her.”

The three kids piled into the backseat of Steve’s car and Steve drove off after making sure everyone was appropriately buckled. The radio that was usually always on remained silent, no one really in the mood to listen to whatever overplayed tune was undoubtedly being broadcasted across your small town. You navigated, hesitant to tell Steve where you actually needed to go. You could tell he was nervous, his right hand reaching across the center console to squeeze your upper thigh, needing to hold onto you.

After you had spent a decent amount of time driving, you finally saw the sign you’d been looking for. “Turn here,” you spoke up, clearing your throat uncomfortably as you said it. Steve looked at you questioningly but followed your instructions, slowly turning into the Roane Hill Cemetery.

“I’ll just be a minute,” you assured Steve as you began to unbuckle to get out of the car. He gently grabbed your elbow, stopping your all fire hurry to exit the vehicle. “Steve—“

“Y/n, I get it. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, okay? We all are. You don’t have to go through this alone,” he spoke gently. You turned over your shoulder and saw the sincerity in everyone’s eyes.

“This,” you replied, looking out the car window up the small hill of the cemetery, “this is something I have to do alone.”

Steve nodded, giving your arm a gentle squeeze before letting go and looking at you with sympathy as you began making your way towards the clearing at the top of the hill. When you made it to the top, you took a deep breath as you read the name on the gravestone. Jim Hopper.

You hadn’t interacted much with Hawkins’ Chief of Police much before the Upside Down had entered your life. In fact, though you knew he was an effective cop, you wrote him off as an egotistical asshole, rolling your eyes at his usually irritating antics. However, after all that you had been through together, he became the kind of person you wanted to emulate. He did the best that he could to protect all of you kids. He would do anything to make sure you were all safe. He’d even given his life for it; the ultimate sacrifice.

He was truly a hero. But now he was gone, nothing left of him besides the grave in this cemetery and the memories in your heart. You felt guilt tear through your chest as you noticed that the flowers you had left the last time you came had began to wither and wilt.

“I don’t really know what to say,” you started off, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t fix any of this. I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep the kids safe like I should’ve. I’m sorry that you can’t be there for El. I’m sorry that you didn’t get to see her grow up…that-that you don’t get to see her smile anymore. Every time I keep telling myself that all of this is over. I-I keep lying to myself and acting like everything is fine and that I’m happy and that everything is going to turn out alright, but I think deep down I know that it isn’t going to be.”

Tears began to stream down your face. “We all deserved to have these normal lives that we always pretend to have, you know? Those kids deserve to have normal lives. They shouldn’t have to worry about monsters underneath their feet and alternate dimensions that want to do them harm. They deserve to have the kind of lives that you wanted them to have, and I’m sorry I couldn’t make that happen Hopper. This all just feels like one big mistake…or-or a nightmare I can’t wake up from. And I feel guilty every time I look at Steve and my heart lets me feel lucky for even just a fraction of a second because if anything is true, we are not fucking lucky.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as you wiped your nose on the back of your sleeve, breathing in a shaky breath as you tried to fight the sobs that your body desperately needed to let out. You felt guilty admitting it, but the happiness in your relationship with Steve did scare you. You didn’t deserve to be happy; you were sure of it.

When you opened your eyes, your heart stopped in your chest. The clear skies that had been there once before were now overcast as fog poured around you into the cemetery. You heard distorted laughter that sounded like it came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. A chill ran down your spine as you heard a voice ring out.

“Y/n.”

***

Steve looked up the hill towards you. You were still sitting in front of a gravestone and you looked okay enough, but Steve didn’t trust any of it. He had a bad feeling deep within his gut, and he began to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Alright, it’s been long enough.”

“Steve, just give her some time,” Max spoke up. She knew that you were going through some things and knew you needed the space.

“I have, alright Mayfield? I’m calling it. If she wants to be mad at me, she can be fucking mad at me,” he grumbled as he slammed the car door shut, making his way up the hill. Cemeteries always made him feel uneasy, but he was confident that the pit in his stomach was unrelated as he swiftly jogged up the hill towards you.

“Y/n, baby? It’s time to go, alright? I know it’s hard, but we really need to get—“ Steve’s words died on his tongue as he saw you sitting there, unresponsive. Your eyes were rolled in the back of your head and blood began dripping down your nose.

“Y/n? Y/n! No, no, no, baby wake up! Wake up, y/n, you’re scaring me,” Steve’s words were short and shaky as he quickly went to wipe your nose, his first instinct being to take care of you. “Guys!”

Steve yelled down the hill and the three kids came running. Steve continued to shake you, watching as your body jolted around but you stayed catatonic, somewhere else in the moment, no doubt in some terror filled nightmare. A far off whimper escaped your lips and if Steve wasn’t already losing it, he would’ve lost it right then and there.

“Y/n! Please wake up!” Max shouted, snapping in front of your eyes, hoping it would draw them forward and alert, but they stayed rolled back in your head, eyelids twitching and fluttering.

“Come on, y/n. Get out of there!” Lucas yelled, beginning to shake your shoulders too. Steve turned towards Dustin, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

“Call Nancy and Robin! Just go! Call Nancy and Robin!” He shoved the boy, and he fell backwards, tumbling over as he scrambled to make his way back to the car. He had never seen Steve so desperate before and they had been through a lot together. Dustin felt his blood run cold. This was life or death.

“Y/n, come on baby. I love you, please come back to me!” Steve cried out, squeezing your hand in his, hoping that wherever you were that you could hear him somehow. “Think of all the things we haven’t gotten to do together yet…I mean, we-we have a whole life ahead of us! I want to do it all with you, but you have to come back to me.”

His voice cracked, and when you didn’t respond he began shaking your shoulders again, feeling sick to his stomach at the way your head lolled in every which way, your neck unable to support the weight of it. Your nose continued to bleed and your limbs were twitching. He could see your neck straining and it reminded him of the way you looked as you tried to breathe through a panic attack.

“Y/n! You gotta get out of there!” Lucas shouted.

“Y/n! Please! You’ve got this, come on!” Max chimed in.

Dustin finally came bounding up the hill, dropping Max’s walkman and a bunch of cassettes in front of them that he had dug out of Steve’s glovebox. “Steve! What’s her favorite song?!”

“Why?” Lucas asked, panic radiating from his voice.

“It’s too much to explain right now! What’s her favorite song?!” Dustin screamed.

Steve didn’t need to be told twice, rifling through the tapes until he found the one with a label and his shitty handwriting on it. His hands were shaking as he fumbled the cassette, shoving it into the walkman before quickly and haphazardly placing the headphones over your ears. His hands trailed to either side of your face as he looked at you, his eyes frantically searching your face, hoping that whatever fix Dustin seemed to think he found would be instantaneous.

The cassette tape had all of the songs you guys would belt out in the car when they played on the radio. He loved hearing you sing off key to the songs and the way you’d dance in the passenger seat making faces to fit the lyrics of the songs. He had finally decided he couldn’t wait around for the radio to play all of your favorites, desperately wanting to watch you dance every time he had a chance to, so he made you a mixtape with all your favorites. He was saving it to give you for your first anniversary, which was now four months away. But after all, in this situation, it was either early or never, so he pressed play and Running up that Hill by Kate Bush began to blare through the headphones.

It had been a second and nothing was happening. Your eyes were still rolled in the back of your head and you were still twitching. “It’s not working Dustin!” Steve shouted, his hands falling from your face as he turned towards the Henderson boy. No sooner had he lost contact with you did your body begin to lift off of the ground, your legs coming uncrossed as you levitated out of reach from your friends down below.

“No! Y/n!” Steve shouted. He wished he hadn’t let you go. Maybe if he hadn’t he could have kept whatever was about to happen from happening. He thought back to all of the horrors Eddie had described and he began to hyperventilate. He couldn’t watch that happen to you. You were his everything.

In your nightmare, you were tied up by vines, pressed against some sort of pillar staring straight at Vecna. He kept insisting you belonged there, reminding you of how much danger you put the kids in. You deserved to stay here in this dark and dreary hellscape. You had seen Chrissy and Fred and you felt like you could vomit thinking about your body being contorted in the same way.

“Let me go!” You choked out, hardly able to speak with the vine around your throat cutting off your access to oxygen. Suddenly you heard something familiar as a melody drifted towards your ears, building slowly in the background until the music swelled and nearly became all that you could hear. You turned ever so slightly to your left and saw a glimpse into the real world. Your heart stopped as you watched your boyfriend desperately calling your name, your body hovering several feet above his head.

“They can’t help you, y/n,” Vecna assured you, his crooked hand coming up towards your face.

“You’re wrong,” you choked out and suddenly the vine behind you snapped and you fell forward, breaking out into a sprint towards the tunnel of reality just out of reach. You tried to keep your footing, but you slipped several times on thick red pools of blood, the sticky liquid soaking into your clothes. You tried to ignore it as you continued to sprint. Your legs kept wanting to give up, but you just kept thinking about all you had left to live for and channeled that into your sprint.

You thought about Steve and the life you wanted to build together. You thought about the way you knocked on his door that fateful day. You thought about the way he let you in even though he didn’t have to; the way he changed for you, the way he tried every day to be better for you. You thought about the jokes he told that made you laugh so hard you cried and the way he’d carry you up the stairs when you fell asleep on the couch. You thought about the kisses he’d pepper across your skin whenever he had the chance to. You thought about the way you felt when you were wrapped up in him the night before and how you didn’t want your first time to be the last time. You thought about the way his brown eyes stared into yours, the way they said so much without him ever having to open his mouth.

You were going to look into those eyes again. So you sprinted. Past falling debris, through rough terrain, and towards him.

Towards home.

Your eyes peeled open and you gasped, staring at the tree line in a way you’d never seen it before. Your stomach dropped as you began falling to the ground, plummeting back towards earth. You hit the ground hard, and you were hyperventilating as everyone immediately surrounded you. Steve pushed past the kids and wrapped his arms around you, clinging to you as if you’d disappear again.

“Y/n! I thought I lost you!” Steve cried out as he placed a frantic kiss against your lips. He pulled back to look at you for a second, fear and panic across his face before he leaned in and kissed you again. You were his oxygen and he needed you to breathe right now.

You pulled away, gripping his bicep as you attempted to calm down your breathing. “I’m still…I’m still here,” you reassured him, tears falling from your eyes.

He was quick to wipe them away before he buried his face in your neck, taking a deep breath as he reveled in the comfort of your familiar scent. He placed a gentle kiss against your neck and pulled you towards him even tighter.

You were still here, and he wasn’t going to let anything like that happen ever again.

***

You all had spent the night at the Wheelers’ again, deciding now more than ever it was vital to stick together. Nancy had had to fight Steve to get him to sleep, convincing him that the rest of you were more than capable of taking turns watching you to make sure that you were okay.

“Dustin…Earth to Dustin,” Eddie’s voice rang out over the walkie talkie. Steve groaned as he woke up. He was sore from the way that his body was positioned in the chair he had been sleeping in. He grabbed the walkie off of the coffee table, pressing down the button to speak into it.

“What the fuck do you want Munson?” Steve spat.

“Oh, Harrington. Um, I’m going to need a food delivery, unless you want me going out into the world.”

“Don’t fucking do that. Just stay where you are and we’ll be there as soon as we can” Steve grumbled, sighing as he aggressively went to set the walkie back down, but Eddie’s voice rang out again.

“Hey, can you pick me up a six-pack? I know it’s dumb to be drinking right now, but a cold beer would really cool my nerves you know?”

As Eddie said it, Steve rolled his eyes, turning back towards the couch you were sleeping on, needing to remind himself of your constant kindness to calm himself down. It had the opposite effect when he saw the empty space, you being nowhere to be found.

“I’m gonna have to call you back,” Steve quickly relayed to Eddie before dropping the walkie talkie and bounding across the basement to wake up Dustin. “Dipshit! What the fuck?! You’re supposed to be watching y/n!” Steve spat as the boy finally opened his eyes.

“Yeah…yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Where the fuck is she?!”

“She’s right there,” Dustin started, but his heart dropped as he looked over and saw that you were gone, “she was right there a second ago. I just dozed off for…an hour.”

His eyes got wide as he looked at his watch and the two boys bounded up the stairs. Steve finally cooled off when he saw you sitting at the kitchen table with Holly. You were helping her color a coloring book page, stopping every once in a while to help her cut her pancake. Steve felt his heart skip at how domestic and maternal you looked, hoping you would all get past this so that he could have the future with you that he envisioned, with perfect little combinations of the two of you sitting at your own kitchen table.

“Everything okay?” Mrs. Wheeler asked. Steve just nodded making his way towards the kitchen table. Nancy had woken up when the boys had not so quietly ascended the stairs and she was rubbing her eyes as she also made her way to the kitchen.

“I think it’s so sweet that you guys are sticking together like this,” Mrs. Wheeler continued, pulling Nancy into a very stiff and awkward side hug that she did not reciprocate.

“You could try sticking together at a different house for a change,” Mr. Wheeler chimed in, not even looking up from his newspaper.

“Hey, are you okay?” Steve asked, sitting down next to you, his hand going to the small of your back.

“Yeah,” you gave him a weak smile. “It’s just kind of hard to sleep after…everything.” You chose your words carefully so as to not let Nancy’s parents in on the reality of the absurdity that was your life. “But Holly let me borrow some of her crayons and we’ve been having a fun morning.”

You smiled at the small girl and Steve felt his heart explode. Nancy stood next to you and spoke up. “Is this what you saw last night? Do you think he’s just trying to scare you?”

“Yeah, but this stuff is different,” you said, gesturing to the drawings in front of you. “I don’t think he wanted me to see any of this.”

“Maybe you invaded his mind,” Dustin suggested, “I mean, that’s what he’s been doing to you, is it that big of leap to suggest that somehow you wound up in his?”

“Yeah, maybe the answer’s somewhere in this incredibly…vague drawing,” Steve added on, holding up a piece of paper and rotating it. “Damn, we need Will.”

“I know, but I tried them again this morning and it’s the same busy signal,” you replied, putting your head in your hands.

Nancy suddenly started reorganizing the papers, folding them and overlapping them until they made an image that made some semblance of sense.

“It’s…it’s a house,” you spoke breathlessly. You weren’t sure how you had managed to draw a deconstructed house considering you weren’t even close to being an artist, but hey accidental accomplishments are accomplishments nonetheless.

“Not just any house,” Nancy looked at you wide eyed. “It’s Victor Creel’s house.”

You shuddered as Nancy and Dustin quickly moved downstairs to tell the others about their discovery. You got up and moved the other way towards the Wheelers’ family room, desperately needing to remove yourself from the oblivious remainder of the Wheelers that were in the kitchen. Steve quickly followed you, gently grabbing your hand as he spoke up.

“Hey, baby…what’s wrong?”

“Steve, I just don’t have a good feeling about this,” anxiety was etched across your face as you said it. He squeezed your hand and pulled you towards him.

“I know, y/n. But answers are good…that means we’re getting somewhere,” he reminded you.

“But that’s the thing,” you started, “just because we’re getting somewhere doesn’t mean it’s anywhere good. Vecna’s smart, he knows what he’s doing. I mean, what….what-what if we’re walking into a trap! What if this is exactly what he wants us to do? We can’t keep just following every thread he gives us. He’s weaving a web, Steve. And if we’re not careful, we’re all going to end up getting caught in it.”

“We have to try though, right? We can’t just give up or else we’re putting everyone—not just us—everyone in jeopardy,” he tried to appeal to your selflessness and world-saving tendencies, but really deep down, he only wanted to follow this thread because it meant they had a shot at saving you.

He dropped your hand, holding his up between the two of you, and you were met with the familiar sight of his extended pinky.

“To saving the world?” He asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Your face relaxed for a moment, your lips breaking into a small smile.

“To saving the world,” you agreed as you wrapped your pinky around his before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss to his lips.

You didn’t like where this was headed, but you could at least give it your best shot. If it meant that you and Steve could have more pinky promises and more soft kisses, then it would be worth it.

You just hoped that it wouldn’t ruin you in the process.

***

a/n: I hope y’all enjoyed the chapter. Reblog to give me a much needed boost of serotonin ;)

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@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @maeve-wileyy @palachannie @chaerfull @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers @quinnsadilla @chervbs @sheisjoeschateau @goosy-goose

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skyfallslayer · 2 months ago

Text

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter Seven

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: While Lucas warns that “The Bad Men are Coming”, Eleven struggles to reach their loved ones. The Adults and teens try to figure out what the next step is, and Steph takes her promise to get Will home to a whole ‘nother level.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 11,379

🎲Date: 3/6/25

🎲Warnings: Angst; Heavy Language & Dialogue; References To Broken Friendship; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Broken; Lying; Crying; Implied Unloving Parents; Implied Child Abuse; Blood, Gore, & Arson; Temporary Death; Will & Steph's Mental Strain - Joyce's Too; Hopper Being a Great Cop & A Total Mess; Eleven Needs Therapy; Steve's Emotional Damage. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: Happy One Year Anniversary of the story! We're so close to season 1 being over! Just one more chapter and epilogue of the season before moving on to #2.

I will admit that this might not be my best work in this chapter. The pace may seem pretty fast, but only because this the final stretch that'll pave the way for next season. Hopefully, it's still up to your guys' standards ❤️. Enjoy!

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Will winced as the water drenched his cut. The older girl who was the cause of it apologized, frowning before tying it with some cloth she found.

“Hold still. I’m going to make it a little tight in hopes to prevent an infection.” Steph replies, tugging on it then applying a knot. “It doesn’t look too deep.”

“Which is a good thing?” He asked, and she hummed.

“It’s better for me to see if there is an infection happening, so… yeah. It is.” She pats the bandage lightly, a message to tell him she’s done, making him slide his coat back on. “Good job on the fighting, Will The Wise.”

He smiles. “Good job as well, Steph The Ranger. No, wait–” He perks up. “Steph… The Courageous.”

“Steph The Courageous.” She tests with a little laugh. “I like that. I’m coining that for our campaign.”

Then they continued to make a bit of small talk as they walked around where they laid out some tripwire, ignoring the sounds of the burning clock tower tumbling down behind them. They wandered inside one of the alleyways, getting closer to where they saw the trap had been knocked down.

Stephanie hums again, looking past it and out in the distance. “It looks like it came from this direction.” She says, as they start walking again. They go past their trap, following in a straight line. They went out of the alley, across the road, into another alley which led to the end of the edge of downtown Hawkins. “Look, another one.”

Will trails his eyes to the broken wire before out into the opening, which so happens to be the beginning of the woods again (Why did Hawkins have to be so green?). “So where does this lead?”

“Well…” She begins, taking a few steps onto the grass, tapping her foot to show him something -- there were indents in the ground, ones far too big to be human. “From the looks of it, it didn’t follow us from your house.”

“It didn’t come from where Steve’s house is either, so we know there’s no gate there anymore.” Will points out, coming over to look at it. “The footprints look like they continue straight for pretty far.”

“So what else is in this part of the woods besides the houses? The Quarry?”

“Isn’t there a lab near here?”

“Yeah.” Then it finally dawned on Steph. “Wait. Isn’t your house near that lab?” He nods. “How close is it?”

“I mean it’s pretty deep in the woods, at least that’s what Jonathan said to me. But I still technically live ‘near it’.”

“So… where I crashed my car, would that be considered close to the lab as well?” He thinks and nods again. “Jesus.” She sighs. “Of course all of this started because of the big mysteriously hidden laboratory. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that sooner.”

“Do you think the gate’s there?”

“Well, if our theory’s correct, then yeah. And not only that, it’s not just a gate, that’s our main spawn point. It’s our shot home.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to look.”

“Then let’s go.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The walk back to the car was quiet, comfortable, but quiet. Steve had offered the tired girl a piggyback ride if she was up for it -- which she gladly took up since she felt so mentally drained. The drive home was a bit more chattered, not a whole lot, but enough to pass the time. When they got back to the Wheeler home, it was nearing the end of the afternoon, the temperature could be felt dropping slightly, and an orange color started blossoming into the sky. The four of them slipped back inside through the side door, unaware of someone watching them from a distance.

“That’s better.” Mike said, after helping El clean the dirt off her face and hands. The girl shakes her head, her gaze then turning to the mirror, examining her shaved head, a look of shame on her face. “You don’t need it.”

Her hopeful eyes turn to him. “Still pretty?”

“Y-Yeah! Pretty. Really pretty.” He manages to say, getting a huge smile from her. “El?”

“Yes?”

He felt his face feel hot while saying, “Um, I’m happy you’re home.”

“Me, too.” A light knock comes from the door, separating them both (They didn’t realize they got so close to each other).

“Hey, just checking in.” Steve says, worriedly. “Do you–” He points to her. “Want another jacket? I know mine’s pretty big, so…”

“N-No.” El says, shaking her head again. “It’s… comfy.”

And then before the oldest could comply, he was almost bulldozed over by Dustin. “Guys!” He shouts, looking between them. “It’s Lucas, I think he’s in trouble.” They all followed him out as he continued rambling. “Do you remember how he said he was looking for the gate? What if he found it?”

Mike picks up the walkie talkie, and sure enough Lucas was on the other end shouting, but none of them could decipher what it is because of the static.

“What’s he saying?” Steve asked, fearing the worst.

“I don’t know, he’s way out of range.” Dustin explains.

[ ‘--Son of a bitch!’ ]

“Well, we could hear that.” Steve says, as Mike presses the button and brings the walkie close to his face.

“Lucas, if you can hear us, slow down. We can’t understand you.”

[ ‘Y-Yes, I co-py! D-Do you? They kn-ow ab-out Eleven! Get o-out of there! They kn-ow ab-out Eleven! The b-bad men are co-ming! All of th-them! Do y-you hear me? The b-bad men are co-ming!’ ]

The three of them looked at each other, confused.

“‘Mad hen’. Does that mean anything to you? Like a code name or something?” Dustin asked, as Steve shook his head.

“I don’t think that’s what he said.”

[ ‘The b-bad men are co-ming!’ ]

Mike’s eyes widened. “‘Bad men’. Bad men!” All their faces dropped when he said those words. “Stay here!” He hands the walkie over to Dustin before racing up the stairs, Steve in tow out of fright. He heads straight for the window in the living room, peeking outside. Sure enough, there was a suspicious looking man inside a van.

He glances over at the teenager, saying, “You don’t think…”

Steve catches onto what he’s suggesting instantly. “Shit, shit!” He replies, pulling Mike away from the window, and closes the drapes. “Oh, my god… what if he saw us?”

Mike bites his lip, thinking. “Hold on.” He takes off again for the kitchen, his mother was talking on their landline, completely preoccupied. “Mom!” He tries as she quickly turns her back to ignore. “Mom! MOM!”

Karen groans under her breath. “I’m sorry, can you just hold on please?” She holds the device against her chest while facing her son. “Michael, I’m on the phone. I’ve told you a million times–”

“Did you schedule any repairs?”

“What?”

“Is there anyone supposed to come and do repairs on the house?”

“I don’t understand. Is there something wrong–”

“No, Mom, nothing’s wrong in the house.”

“Michael, please, list–” She trails off, spotting someone coming into the room. “Oh, Steve, honey, real quick, uh, I just took the trash out a few minutes ago, and it looks like one of your tires is low.”

Steve’s heart sank, and so did Mike’s. “What?” He mutters, and takes off to the window again. He had a clear view of the driveway, the car he was in not even an hour ago had a flat tire… and then…

He saw something else. More copies of the van he saw were driving up the street.

“Oh, fuck!” He rushes back to the kitchen where Mike was still going back and forth with his mom. “Wheeler!”

“Hang on, Steve.”

“Mike!”

“What?”

“We need to leave... right now. Um–” He could feel the stares of Mrs. Wheeler on him intensely. “I just remembered, um, the o-other half of the school project you needed to do.”

“Oh…” Mike nods in understanding. “Uh, yeah. Yeah! Right! I almost forgot. Let’s go.”

“Michael!” Karen yells, stopping her son again who throws her through another loop.

“If anyone asks where I am, I’ve left the country.”

She blinks. “What?”

“Steve, what happened?” He asks, as they rush down the stairs, meeting with the others.

“There are way more vans now. And those people do not look friendly.” Steve replies, brain in overdrive. “We have to get out of here.”

“W-we got to get into your car.” Dustin said, feeling his heart start pounding.

“We can’t.”

“What?”

“They slashed my tire. It’ll be too risky now to go out and try to fix it.”

“Shit.” The Henderson starts pacing around while holding his head. “Shit!”

“C-Calm down…” The eldest said, trying to be the strong one. “We need to think. And fast.”

Mike was practically bouncing on his heels to try to get an answer. “Um…” Then it hit him. “We can take bikes!” He looks at Steve. “I know it’s girly, but you can ride Nancy’s.”

“Shit, I don’t care if I have to ride Holly’s tricycle, let’s go!”

They wasted no time throwing open that door, bikes in hand, and running up the hill behind the house. Their hearts were pounding in their ears, anguish was eating them away and–

They paused their actions for a split second, Eleven looking down and locking eyes with an older man, his face stern and hair as white as snow. Seeing him made her freeze and squeeze Mike’s shoulders. That action alone made them kick it into gear. Dustin screamed many ‘Go’s’, as they all piled onto their bikes and took off, the vans following behind.

“Fucking hell–” Steve mutters under his breath, looking around frantically, a fear that the vans were just going spawn out of thin air.

Dustin on the hand was like a statue, body ridged and face going numb. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God–”

[ ‘Dustin! Dustin, do you copy?’ ]

He perks up at the voice from his headset. “Yeah, Lucas, they’re on us.”

[ ‘Where are you?’ ]

“Cornwallis.”

[ ‘Meet me at Elm and Cherry!’ ]

“Copy. Elm and Cherry!” He shouts, activating them to change their route immediately. As they popped out onto another road, two vans were soon trailing behind. “Shit!”

“This way, come on!” Mike yells, making them cut across someone’s yard and out the back.

Dustin starts ringing his bicycle bell to get some kids’ attention. “Out of the way!” He warns, waving his arm. “Out of the way!”

They nearly knocked the poor kids over, but there was no time for apologizing. They continued their short cut until getting out onto another street, slowly down to a stop.

“Sinclair!” Steve says, upon seeing the boy who seemed like he overexerted himself already.

“Where are they?” Lucas pants, as they shook their heads.

“I don’t know.”

“I think we lost them.” Mike replies, jinxing them. Soon, the remaining vans were turning onto the street behind them. “Go, go, go, go, go!”

“Fucking– Christ!” Steve kicks it off with the rest of them, Eleven looking over her shoulder to stare in agony.

“Go, go, go, go, go! Faster, faster!”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Dustin continues to chant.

The vans were right on their tails, and to make matters worse, they were being sandwiched in just as another pulled out in front of them, barreling towards them at full speed. Their legs moved the pedals on their own as their bodies grow frigid at the state. What are they going to do? They’re being surrounded. There’s no way out of this–

Then…

By a freaking miracle…

El waved her hand and sent the vehicle flying.

The boys watched as it was tossed like it didn’t weigh anything, watching it fly over their heads and blocking the road behind them with a loud crash.

They heard the rest of the vans ramming on the brakes, but they didn’t dare to look back this time. They pushed themselves to go up and over another hill, out of sight from the mysterious man with the white hair who was sighing at the whole incident. Their knees almost gave completely out by the time they arrived at their hideout: the junkyard. They tossed their bikes to the ground, Dustin nearly hurdling over from the panic attack, as Lucas shakes his head at everything that just happened.

“Holy…” Steve begins, eyes widened and heart pounding, as he and Mike help Eleven sit on the ground for a well deserved rest. “Holy shit!”

“Did... did you see what she did to that van?” Dustin said, mouth agape.

“No, Dustin, we missed it.” Mike poked, rolling his eyes. But he has to admit… it was pretty freaking cool.

“I mean that was–”

“Awesome.” Lucas said, getting everyone’s attention. “It was awesome.” He takes a few steps to kneel in front of her, face full of guilt. “Everything I said about you being a traitor and stuff… I was wrong. I’m sorry.” He gives her a smile and places his hand on her shoulder for reassurance.

That got her to crack one too, replying, “Friends… friends don’t lie. I’m sorry, too.”

“Me, too.” Mike says, holding his hand out. His friend finally got the message, and without a second of hesitation, he stood up to shake it.

“Apology accepted. I’m sorry, too.” Lucas replies.

“Apology accepted.”

“Alright… glad we made up. But what do we do?” Dustin asked, looking between his friends. “Steve? Got any ideas?”

Steve scratches his head, thinking. “I… I don’t know.” He says, shaking his skull. “I should have known someone was going to come after us sooner or later, so…” He sighs. “Okay. El’s tired, so we’re not going to get far with her if she is, so we’ll need to rest for a bit. Once nightfall comes around in a few hours, we’ll move out. It’ll be easier to stay hidden.”

“And then what?” Mike asks, getting a shrug.

“Will just have to keep moving, until we think of something. Right now we’re outnumbered, no weapons, no food, we just got instinct. We just need to let El rest, alright?” The kids shake their heads, while Lucas shifts on his feet, eager to spill something.

“Well…” The boy starts, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. “If you want, I got some information that might be useful.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Jonathan?” Joyce said, as soon as they entered the station. “Jesus, what…” She moves closer to find him sitting at a desk with Nancy, a bag of ice over his bruised and cuffed hand. “What happened?

“I’m fine/Ma’am.” Were said at the same time by her son and Deputy Callahan.

“W-Why is he wearing handcuffs?”

Callahan frowns. “Well, your boy assaulted a police officer. That’s why.”

“Take them off.”

“I am afraid I cannot do that.”

“Take them off!”

“You heard her.” Hopper snaps as he enters the room, firm hands on his hips. “Take ’em off.”

“Chief.” Powell begins, trying to play peacekeeper here. “I get everyone’s emotional here, but there’s something you–”

“Where is the chief?!” A sudden voice boomed across the whole police department followed by a loud slam of the front door. “I want to speak to him right this instant!”

Callahan sighs and rubs his throbbing head. “Now, what?”

“Where is he?” A woman spatted at Flo before she could even speak.

Hopper made a motion for his men to stand back. “Ma’am, I need you to calm down. I’m right here.”

The petite blond scoffs and makes her way over, followed by a child whose arm was in a sling. “I demand something to be done in this instance!”

“Ma’am, what happened? What is–”

“This instance!”

“Ma’am, Please. I can’t help you when you’re like this.” Hopper says, trying to hold his own temper. “Take a deep breath, and tell me what happened.”

The woman looked like she attempted to take his advice before exploding again. “A psychotic child broke his arm!” She says, gesturing to the kid. “She broke my son’s, Troy’s, arm! I can’t–”

“What did she look like?” Callahan asked, pulling his notebook out.

“I’m not talking to you!”

“Ma’am, you’re talking to him. I’ve got something rather important to deal with.” Hopper cuts back in, which seemed to shut her up. “Callahan, continue. Powell–” He points to Jonathan. “Get him out of the cuffs. I want to talk to him in my office.”

His subordinates nodded, and started complying.

“So what’s this girl look like?” Callahan tries again, this time, asking the son.

“She had no hair and she was bleeding from her nose! Like a freak.” Troy explains, all scared -- Suddenly, everyone else that wasn’t on the force froze at his statement.

“What’d you just say?” Hopper says, as Joyce, Jonathan and Nancy all stare at the kid like he struck an unusual pot of gold.

“I said she’s a freak.”

“No, her hair. What’d you say about her hair?”

“Her head’s shaved. She doesn’t even look like a girl.” Troy frowns and looks down. “And…”

“And what?”

“Tell the man, Troy.” His mother urges.

“She can… do things.” He mutters quietly.

Hopper’s hope started spiking with just this little info. “What kind of things?”

“Like… make you fly. And… piss yourself.”

“What?” Powell said, confused.

Hopper holds his hands up for him to stop. “Was she alone?”

Troy shakes his head. “She always hangs out with those losers.”

“‘Losers’? What losers?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The four of them sat around Lucas as makes a square out of sticks he found, laying them out on the dirt as uses another one to explain his findings.

“This is Randolph Road, right here.” He digs a line on one side. “The fence starts here, and goes all the way around.” He points around the sticks, before smashing down an empty can in the middle. “And this is the lab right here. The gate’s gotta be in there somewhere. It’s gotta be.”

“Well, who owns Hawkins Lab?” Dustin asks, thinking.

“The sign says ‘Department of Energy’.”

“Department of Energy?” Steve says, scoffs. “Why do I think that’s a front for something?”

“He’s got a point.” Mike says, agreeing. “I mean, why put something like that in Hawkins? I mean, what do you think that means?”

“It means government. Military.” Lucas replies.

“Then why does it say ‘Energy’?”

“Just trust me, all right? It’s military. My dad’s told me before. Besides, There’s soldiers out front.”

“So… they make weapons?”

“Yeah, to fight the Russians, and commies and stuff.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Weapons.” He said, sparing a glance at Eleven who looked away -- and everyone else catching onto what he was suggesting.

Dustin gasps. “Oh, Jesus, this is bad.”

“Really bad. The place is like a fortress.” Lucas adds, making their stomach’s turn.

“Well, what do we do?”

“I don’t know, but we can’t go home. We’re fugitives now.” Mike says, frowning.

We’re in so much shit now. Steve inhales, taking a moment to process this. “Jesus, okay, um… let’s–” He trails off at a distinct sound, confused. “Guys? Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.” Sure enough in the distance, a helicopter could be seen coming their way. “Shit!! Put your bikes under the bus! Now! Now!”

They scrambled getting up and shoving their bikes into hiding, anxiety spiking as they ran inside the bus and dunk underneath the chairs just as the helicopter started passing above.

Dustin bites his lip to silence his nerves while muttering, “Mental…”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

As they both get closer to their destination, a tickle begins to bloom in their throats, causing a nasty cough to erupt. Steph makes a face muttering something of profanity as she covers her mouth.

Will on the other hand controls it quicker, and says, “It’s like the air got thicker.”

“Yeah.” She frowns. “It kind of reminds me of when we first arrived here.”

“Do you think that means we’re going in the right direction?”

“I’m going to stay hopeful and say yes.”

That’s all they could do. It’s still not a 100 percent guarantee that the lab is the place of origin. Yet, judging their theories, the thicker air, the eeriness, and very strange, disgusting looking flesh-like ball growing out of the ground then–

Wait.

Hold on a second–

“What… is that thing?” Steph asks, in disgust as they slow down their pace to examine it. “It looks like something out of ‘The Being’.” She scrunched up her nose when she got close enough. “Ew. It smells like death.”

“It… looks like an egg.” Will replies, grossed out too. “I guess the Demogorgon lays eggs?”

That got her feeling a bit panic-y. “I swear to fucking God, if I come across a baby Demogorgon, I’m going to freak the fuck out.” Her eyes start darting around in the darkness.

“D-Do you think there’s more monsters out here?” He asked, starting to tremble.

“I hope not. I mean, it took a lot to kill one, I can’t imagine us killing another. And what if there’s more? There’s no way there’s only one egg.” Jesus, and what if there was? What if there was another monster lurking around? Then what? I don’t think we can do this shit again.

While the teenager was running many plans through her head, Will looked around while staying close, trying to see if he could see anything that could tell them what’s going on. The ground seemed clear, no footprints except theirs, he couldn’t hear anything either. He doesn’t see anything staring at them amongst the trees, so…

He perks up, and tugs on her sleeve. “Stephanie. Look.”

She follows where he’s pointing, a clearing above the trees; It seems quite far from where they’re standing, but you can miss the circling of some flying-type creature. “Is that a bird?”

“I hate to say this, but I think we’re going in the right direction.” He looks at her worriedly. “Most ‘final levels’ are usually guarded more than any other levels.”

Her face morphs into a surge of different emotions before simply saying, “Fuck.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Set at the top of the hill overlooking the Wheeler house was Hopper and the gang. The Chief sat outside the car with a pair of binoculars, watching as men and women in suits came in and out the house filled with Mike’s belongings, and stuff it in the trunks of their cars.

“I have to go home.” The anxious Nancy finally says, which Hopper shoots down immediately by grabbing her by the shoulders. “My Mom... my Dad are there.”

“They’re gonna be okay.” He reassures her before she starts taking off. “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey–”

“Let go–” He snags her arm. Let go!”

“Hey! Listen to me. Listen to me.” Hopper makes sure she’s looking at him. “The last thing in the world we need is them knowing you’re mixed up in all this.”

“Mike is over there–”

“They haven’t found him. Not yet, at least.” He points to the helicopter in the sky, which causes her to stare in shock.

“For Mike?!”

“Come on, get in the car.” He pulls her back inside with the others. Now, both him and Joyce look at the teenagers for answers. “Look, we need to find them before they do. Do you have any idea where he might have gone?”

Nancy shakes her head. “No, I don’t.”

“I need you to think.”

“I don’t know. We haven’t talked a lot. I mean, lately–”

“Look, is there any place that your… your parents don’t know about that he might go?” Joyce asks, as she shakes her head again.

“I don’t know.”

“I might.” Jonathan admits, surprising them.

“What?”

“I don’t know where he is, but I think I know how to ask him.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

[ ‘-ke, are you there? Mike?’ ]

“You guys hear that?” Dustin asked, confused.

[ ‘Mike, it’s me, Nancy. - Mike, are you there? Answer.’ ]

“Nancy?” Steve said, surprised.

[ ‘Mike, we need you to answer.’ ]

“Is that your sister?” Lucas asked, dumbfounded. Since when was she involved in this?

[ ‘This is an emergency, Mike. Do you copy? - Mike, do you copy?’ ]

“Okay, this is really weird.” Dustin admits, as Lucas starts grabbing for the walkie.

“Don’t answer.” Mike says, as he gets a weird look.

“She said it was an emergency.” Lucas replies.

“What if it’s a trick?”

“It’s your sister!”

“What if the bad people kidnapped her? What if they’re forcing her to say this?”

[ ‘I need you to answer.’ ]

“It’s like Lando Calrissian.” Dustin mutters, eyes wide. “Don’t answer.”

Lucas sighs. “Steve? What do you think? She’s your girlfriend.”

“Um…” The teenager honestly didn’t know what to think or say. He couldn’t even wrap his mind around anything at that moment. “I… I have no idea.”

“Oh, jeez–”

[ ‘We need to know that you’re there, Mike.’ ]

Then there was a line of loud static, enough to make their ears hurt just before a new voice broke in.

[ ‘Listen, kid, this is the Chief. If you’re there, pick up.’ ]

“Hopper?” Steve said, as him and the others got even more turned around.

[ ‘We know you’re in trouble and we know about the girl.’ ]

“Why is she with the Chief?” Lucas asked the million dollar question.

“How the hell does he know about–” Dustin begins.

[ ‘We can protect you, we can help you, but you gotta pick up. Are you there? Do you copy? Over.’ ]

“Can he really protect–”

“Wait.” Steve cuts in, making sure their gaze was on him. “We can trust him.”

“What?” Lucas said, skeptical.

“You sure?” Mike asks, awaiting an explanation.

“I’m sure. Remember? He was there with me at the morgue, he knows that Steph and Will’s bodies were fakes. Now, I don’t know how he figured out about El, but I assure you, if he was one of the ‘bad men’, I wouldn’t be here right now telling you all this.” The kids all stare at Steve, who was pleading with them once again to trust him… surprisingly it was the last person he expected to step into his defense.

“He’s right, you guys.” Dustin looks at his friends. “We gotta trust him.” He flashes him a look of apology. “I gotta trust him.”

That got the teenager to smile, and everyone else made their decisions.

“Alright.” Mike says, and pushes the button. “Yeah, I copy. It’s Mike. I’m here. We’re all here.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

“Okay… We’re just going to assume that everything’s fine, nothing will jump out, and that thing in the sky is harmless.” Steph said, holding his hand tight as they continued to wander towards the lab (And of course that flying thing had to be where they’re heading).

They kept their trek at somewhat a moderate pace, but they were on high alert for anything that could dart at any moment -- A moment they’re honestly not prepared for.

“We should’ve restocked before we left.” Will said, glancing around, occasionally coming across more of those eggs, some closed and some opened like the first one.

“I know.” She frowns. “But we pretty much cleaned out the whole store. We still got a few rounds left in our pistol, some matches, another lighter… we can use the hairspray with it.”

“Yeah.” He mutters, sensing something.

“We got the running at full speed option too.”

“Yeah.”

She stops them as soon as she notices him spacing off. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” He looks around more carefully now. “I feel like…”

“Like someone’s watching us.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Nobody can say they weren’t nervous. Although, some were doing it in a more silent way. However, if you were Dustin, you wouldn’t stop going up and down the bus walkway with a heavy step that rattled the shell of a vehicle.

Steve watches him carefully, occasionally darting his eyes to the outside before back on him while lightly gnawing on the tip of his thumb. Eventually, he was the one to actually say, “Henderson, will you stop pacing?”

“It’s been way too long.” Dustin said, immediately. “Do you know what? Maybe Mike’s right. Maybe this is all a trap and the bad men are coming to get us right now!”

“It’s not a trap. I told you guys you can trust him.”

“Yeah. Why would the Chief set us up?” Lucas asks, agreeing. “Nancy, maybe–”

“Hey–” Steve says at the remark, while Mike throws his hands up in disbelief.

“But the Chief?”

Dustin stops just for a moment to reply, “Lando Calrissian.”

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Would you shut up about Lando?”

“I don’t feel good about this. I don’t feel good about this!”

“When do you feel good about anything?!”

They both shared a heated glance before they could hear something approaching. They all looked at one another before making their way to the front of the bus. Their little hopes were soon shattered when they noticed two cars rolling up.

“Shit!” Dustin mutters, as Steve urges them to the back and hide. “Lando.”

“You think they saw us?” Lucas asked, before noticing the oldest getting something out of his backpack. “Since when did you have a baseball bat with you?”

Steve gives him a weird look as he holds his weapon close. “You didn’t see it sticking out of my bag? I’ve had it with me this whole day.”

“Uh, I wasn’t with you this morning? Remember?”

“Oh… yeah.”

“Both of you, shut up.” Mike hushes, shutting them all up as they wait.

They could hear people walking around outside in various directions, making their hearts thump faster and faster. They soon could hear the door to the bus get slowly pried open, a man looking inside–

Then someone shouted something, and the man disappeared before the yelling erupted. The five of them held their breaths when it all went silent. Then, they sprung to their feet as a familiar face entered the bus, gun raised and half in uniform.

“All right, let’s– Steve?” Hopper trails off as soon as sees who’s the odd man out of the group.

Steve swallows and gives a small wave. “Hey, Chief.”

Hopper’s jaw went tight as he had to hold his angry tongue. “Does nobody listen to me when I say ‘I can handle this’?” He sighs (What’s done is done). “Let’s go.” Then nobody moved. “Let’s go!!”

The little flicker of fire in the last sentence got them to grab their belongings and followed quickly behind.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

As soon as they heard the truck pulled in, Jonathan, Nancy, and Joyce came rushing out of the house.

“Mike.” Nancy says, with a wave of relief. “Oh, my God. Mike!” She rushed over to give him a big hug. “I was so worried about you.”

Mike blinks, a bit lost for words. “Yeah, uh... me, too.”

She pulls back to take all the kids in… except for the one that wasn’t actually a kid. “Steve?”

“Hey, Nance.” Steve says, with a bit of a smile.

“What are you–”

“We might have lied about needing his help with a history project.” Mike explains, and shrugs.

“Yeah.”

“Harrington here was with me when we discovered the fake bodies.” Hopper says, providing some more information to the rest of them. “Actually, he was there before me, but still–”

“You broke into a morgue?” Nancy said, appalled.

Steve breaks eye contact and nods. “Not my proudest moment, but yeah.”

“We’ll keep discussing this inside.” Joyce interrupts, waving them in. The sooner they clear everything up, the better.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

They all sat around in the living room as Mike drew a quick picture to explain what their teacher had said about the gates and other words.

“Okay, so, in this example, we’re the acrobat. Will, Stephanie, and Barbara, and that monster, they’re this flea. And this is the Upside Down, where our friends are hiding.” He sets the paper and pen down. “Mr. Clarke said the only way to get there is through a rip of time and space.”

“A gate.” Steve adds.

“That we tracked to Hawkins Lab.” Lucas says.

“With our compasses.” Dustin finishes, as the older teens and adults stare. He sits up straighter after realizing they didn’t understand. “Okay, so the gate has a really strong electromagnetic field, and that can change the directions of a compass needle.”

“Is this gate underground?” Hopper asks from the corner of the room -- the puzzle pieces finally fitting together. Now it was the kids’ turn to stare because they didn’t have an answer, but…

“Yes.” Eleven said, just above a whisper.

“Near a large water tank?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know all that?” Steve asked, before answering his own question. “Wait… Did you go there after the morgue?”

“Is there any way that you could… that you could reach them?” Joyce cuts in, pulling El’s gaze off the Chief towards her. “That you could talk to them in this… this, uh–”

“The Upside Down.” She clarifies.

“Down. Yeah.”

And so she tries, even when the lights begin to flicker, all she could see was pitch black and nothing else. She quickly apologizes for her failure as she runs to the bathroom to wash away the tears that begin to fall.

“El–” Mike starts to go after her, only for Steve to stop him.

“Give her a minute. She’s probably still tired.”

“Tired?” Joyce asks, as the kids begin explaining how she works.

“Whenever she uses her powers, she gets weak. The more energy she uses, the more tired she gets.” Dustin replies, with a worried look.

“Like, she flipped the van earlier.” Lucas adds.

“It was awesome.”

“But she’s drained.”

“Like a bad battery.”

“Well…” Jonathan says, trying to find the right words. “How do we make her better?”

“We don’t.” Steve says, crossing his arms. “We just have to wait and try again.”

“Well, how long?” Nancy asks, and gets a shrug.

“I don’t know.”

“The bath.” El’s voice broke through, all of them turning around to face her.

“What?”

She looks at all of them, her idea now being confirmed with their hopeful faces. “I can find them. In the bath.”

And that’s how Dustin ended up calling his science teacher at an ungodly hour.

[ ‘Hello?’ ]

“Mr. Clarke? It’s Dustin.” He says, making sure to sound extra sweet to worm his way in.

[ ‘Dustin? Is everything okay?’ ]

“Yeah, yeah. I just, I… I have a science question.”

[ ‘It’s ten o’clock on Saturday. Why don’t we pick this up–’ ]

“Do you know anything about sensory deprivation tanks? Specifically, how to build one?”

[ ‘Sensory deprivation? What is this for?’ ]

Uh, so we can dream walk to the other side? He almost made himself laugh at his own thoughts. “Fun.”

[ ‘Okay. Well… Why don’t we talk about it on Monday? After school, okay?’ ]

“You always say we should never stop being curious. To always open any curiosity door we find.”

[ ‘Dustin–’ ]

“Why are you keeping this curiosity door locked?” And Dustin almost felt bad that he was guilt tripping his teacher into this. But the fate of his sister’s and Will’s lives were at risk! He’ll just have to suck it up for now. So now he’s writing everything down while his friends surround him, anxiously waiting to get the results.

“Uh-huh. - Uh-huh. - How much? - Uh-huh. Yep, all right. - Yeah, we’ll be careful. Definitely. All right, Mr. Clarke. - Yeah, I’ll see you on Monday. - I’ll see you on Monday, Mr. Clarke. Bye.” He smiles and hangs up before looking at Joyce. “Do you still have that kiddie pool we bobbed for apples in?”

“I-I think so.” She looks at her son, who nods. “Yeah.”

“Yeah. Good. Then we just need salt. Lots of it.”

“How much is ‘lots’?” Hopper asks, skeptical.

Dustin’s eyes flicker to the page and replies, “1,500 pounds.”

“Well, where are we gonna get that much salt?” Nancy asks, as everyone shrugs except–

“I know where we can.” Hopper replies, before ushering everyone to the cars.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Now the gang find themselves at Hawkins Middle School, each of them broken up into groups to get this project started. In group #1 was Hopper and Jonathan, who were currently loading up all the bags of road de-icing salt they could get from storage.

“Hey, wait. It’s not gonna snow next week, is it?” The teen asks, stopping their rhythm for a second.

Hopper sighs. “Worst case, no school.”

Jonathan nods, and they continue back up again. “Even if we find Will and Stephanie in there… what are we gonna do about that thing? The monster?”

“We’re not gonna do anything. I don’t want you anywhere near this, all right? Your mom’s been through enough already.”

The oldest Byers gives him a look of: ‘No, you didn’t just say that’. He frowns. “He’s my brother.”

“Listen to me.” He grabs the teen’s shoulder. “I’m gonna find him. Alright? You gotta trust me on this. I am going to find him.”

And that’s a promise Hopper’s determined and will keep.

Meanwhile, in group #2, stationed inside the gym, Lucas and Dustin were struggling to get the pool to roll out.

“This damn thing is heavy.” Lucas grunted as they tugged, and even rolled to the middle. “Come on–”

“It’s upside down.” Dustin points out as they start unfolding it. The two of them continued cursing at one another to make it work, until finally…

They actually got it to work.

In group #3, which was back outside at another storage shed, Mike walked up to the padlocked door and started tugging on it -- expecting that to work.

“Stand back.” His sister tells him, just before using a rock to pound the top of the lock, getting it to break. Mike stands in disbelief as she brushes past them to get all the hoses they could carry back. “What does she even eat?”

Mike stares at her again. “What?”

“Eleven.” Nancy clarifies.

“Oh. Candy, leftovers, Eggos… She really likes Eggos.”

“I knew you were acting weird. I just… I thought it was because of Will.

“I knew you were acting weird, too. I thought it was because of Steve.” She gives him a look and decides to explain. “Well, me and the guys kind of did burrow your boyfriend from you these last few days. And then you said that party of his was awkward, so…”

“Hey…” Nancy says, putting down the wheelbarrow for them to talk. “No more secrets, okay? From now on we’ll tell each other everything.”

“Okay.” Mike says as he starts to look smug. “Do you like Jonathan now?”

“What?” She shakes her head. “No. No, it’s... it’s not... it’s not like that.” She decides to ignore the fact that her heart just fluttered, but– “Do you like Eleven?”

“What? No. Ew. Gross.” He turns away and starts walking, completely obviously the look his sister was giving him again.

Finally, in the last group, Joyce had found some duct tape to put over some goggles, completely covering them until you couldn’t see anything. Once finished she presented them to Eleven, who was hanging out on the gym’s bleachers, legs swaying a bit.

“This will keep it dark for you. Just like in your bathtub.” El nods at her, staying quiet. It was enough to make Joyce’s motherly instincts come out. “You’re a very brave girl. You know that, don’t you? Everything you’re doing for my boy... for Will… for Stephanie… for everyone’s families…” She smiles softly. “Thank you.”

On cue all the groups came back roughly around the same time, including Steve, who kind of disappeared once everyone was divided up, claiming he wanted to check something out (No one argued with him there).

“Did you make the goggles?” Jonathan asked, as his mom showed him.

“Hey–” Steve says, stepping on the bleacher to sit next to her. “You all good, Eleven?”

She doesn’t look at him as she shakes her head, making his heart strings tug a little. The adults present were about to jump in and say something when the King of high school beat them to it.

“Hey, Listen– I am gonna be there with you the whole time–” That got her to look at him, to stare at his reassuring face. “And if it ever gets too scary in… in that place, you just let me know, okay?” She nods, making him smile. “Okay, great.”

The two of them seemed to be in their own little world, completely unaware of the surprised gazes they were getting by the interaction (Who knew the teenager had a super soft spot for children?).

“Hey, I got a surprise for you while we wait.” Steve continues, before pulling out a big white wrapper from his pockets. “This is called an ice cream sandwich.”

“Sandwich?” Eleven asks, watching him curiously as he opens it, and hands it over.

“Yeah.” He watches her examine it, and explains, “The middle part of it is the ice cream I was telling you about yesterday. The ‘sandwich’ part of it, It’s made of chocolate. Super good, super soft, melts in your mouth. Try it.” She was skeptical, yet intrigued, so she took a bite that made her whole face light up. “Good?”

She nods eagerly. “Super good.”

He chuckles. “When this is all over, I’ll just get some regular ice cream. Just like I promised.” She nods again, which seemed to shock everyone out of their places.

“Um…” Hopper mutters, before mentally slapping himself to get moving. “Okay! Uh, L-Let’s get started!”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It took a while to get everything right -- the temperature of the water, the amount of salt, making sure the walkie talkie was on the right channel, the mental prep Eleven was doing -- but soon everything was complete. She starts taking off her socks and shoes, and even gives Mike’s watch back to him. She holds the goggles in hand, taking a deep breath as she stares at the familiar murky water. She knows this will do good, but she can’t help but think about what happened last time… the time she opened the gate and let the Upside Down into this world.

“Like I said–” Steve begins as he senses her fearing the past mistake. He notices her eyes quickly on his just as he speaks. “If it gets scary, you tell us, and we’ll pull–” He was almost knocked over by the sudden hug she decided to give; His shock factor only lasted a second when he gratefully returned it. “Alright–” She looks at him again. “Remember what they look like?” She nods. “Good. You got this. We believe in you.”

Him and Joyce help her get into the pool. El takes a few steps before letting herself sit down, testing it. Muscle memory settled in, soon realizing this pool was perfect and let her whole body float. Everyone held their breaths when the lights flickered and turned off -- soon the girl found herself in the other realm.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves that suddenly shot through the roof. She was afraid because… well…

Something felt really, really wrong.

“Barb? Barbara?” She calls out, as she paints a mental picture on what the girl looks like. Red hair, glasses, on the tall side. Where could she be in the Upside down? Her feet continued to patter across the water, something appearing a few steps away. Bracing herself as she grows closer, not expecting to find something truly shocking.

“What’s going on?” Nancy asked, as the lights began dance like crazy.

“I don’t know.” Jonathan said, worriedly.

“Is Barb okay?” Her heart started pounding at a morbid thought. “Is she okay?”

El grips the sides of her head, screaming at the top of her lungs. “Gone! Gone! Gone! Gone! Gone!”

“Gone. Gone.” El starts whimpering as she floats around. “Gone.”

Nancy chokes on a sob covering her face, subconsciously burying herself into Jonathan’s chest. The teenager immediately hugs her, rubbing her back soothingly as he locks eyes with her boyfriend.

Steve frowns out of worriedness for his girlfriend, and is the first one to break the gaze. His heart was aching for many different reasons tonight, and tried not to let certain thoughts get to him at this very moment. He sucks it up fastly to reach out for Eleven, telling her ‘It’s Okay’.

“Gone. Gone!”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Gone!”

“Hey. It’s okay.” He squeezes her hand. “It’s okay, we’re right here. We’re right here, Eleven. It’s okay. I got you. Don’t be afraid. I’m right here with you. I’m right here with you. It’s okay. It’s okay, you’re safe. You’re safe. I promise.”

El listens to his words very carefully, closing her eyes for a second and taking another breather. He’s right. She’s okay. She’s safe. None of them will let anything happen to her. She exhales and starts mentally picturing the next two people. She knows their faces, she feels their presence somewhere in the abyss, she has to find them!

Eleven continues moving around, her strong mental game paying off as she suddenly spots something else in the distance. She comes closer to get a better look at the figures. She couldn’t help but start to smile.

“I see… a girl… with blue eyes.”

Everyone quickly perks up at the news, Dustin and Steve locking eyes.

“They’re… pretty… and bright. She’s wearing a hat.”

“Phanie…” Dustin says, almost crying, as Steve gasps in awe. “That’s Phanie!”

“And… There’s someone holding her hand. A… a boy.”

“W-Will.” Jonathan says, as mother practically jumps her seat. “Is it Will?”

“Yes… they’re-”

Eleven’s heart nearly leaped out of her chest when they suddenly looked her way. She was about to brush it off, but that’s when she noticed they weren’t taking her eyes off her. Wait…

Could they… could they see her?

They both mouthed something to each other that she couldn’t hear, which confused her more than–

“You... you tell him... tell him I’m coming.” Joyce cuts in. “You tell them both that were coming for them.”

Eleven holds her ground, shaking off this strange interaction to repeat her words. “Will, Your mom… she’s coming for you. For both of you.”

Their eyes seemed to widen at that and spared a look at each other.

[ ‘Joyce?’ ]

Stephanie’s voice crackled through the radio.

[ ‘You’re saying… J-Joyce Byers is coming for us?’ ]

Everyone tries to contain their joy for hearing her speak after so long.

Eleven shakes her head. “Yes. She’s coming. Your… friends are coming.”

She watches them laugh with relief.

[ ‘We’re actually going to the gate now. The one at the lab.’ ]

“They know about the gate?” Lucas said, surprised that Will just told them.

[ ‘But– ]

They heard him struggling to find the right words, so Steph took over.

[ ‘But we’re not sure if we’re going to make it okay. We thought we were after we killed this… faceless beast–’ ]

“Faceless beast?” Mike said, confused.

“Wait…” Nancy mutters in realization. “They… killed that monster?”

“Holy shit…” Dustin whispers, and continues tuning into whatever else his sister had to say.

[ ‘We thought it was a one and done deal. However, the more we venture towards the lab, the more we realize that the Demogorgon might not be alone.’ ]

[ ‘We don’t have a lot of useful supplies left.’ ]

Will admits this to them, making Hopper sigh under his breath and say, “Shit…”

[ ‘Ms. Byers, or anyone else there with her, what do you want us to do?’ ]

Stephanie asks, as the adults and teens try racking their brains for an idea.

“Okay. Listen, you tell them to... to stay where they are.” Hopper replies, getting closer to the pool. “We’re coming. We’re coming, okay? Just stay put! Just... just hold on a little longer.”

Eleven nodded at the confirmation. “Will, Stephanie, they want you to–”

Then… out of nowhere…

Something came jumping out of the shadows, ending their connection.

Eleven gasps shooting straight up. Steve grabs a hold of her, pulling her close and engulfing her a hug as she shrugs the goggles off.

“I’ve got you. It’s okay. I got you. I got you.” He soothes, as she starts to cry. “I got you, sweetheart. You did so well.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve scanned the whole room while he sat on the bleachers with the kids. El, who was drenched to the bone and wrapped in a towel, stayed glued between him and Mike, while he notices that the Police Chief and Joyce had stepped off to the side for an intense conversation -- One that he has a gut feeling he knows what it’s about. Just his brief interaction they had at the morgue was enough to tell the teenager how Hopper’s brain works. He knows that he’s going to be bolting through those doors soon and going straight to the lab guns blazing.

And Steve can’t allow him to do that alone.

As soon as he hears their voices become louder, he stands up.

“Steve?” El says, confused at the loss of warmth.

Steve feels all the kids’ eyes on him, forcing him to turn around and finally say what needed to be said. “Listen… I gotta leave.”

Dustin looks between him and his friends, worried. “W-What?”

“I know what the Police Chief’s about to do. He’s going to leave at any moment to go straight to the lab.”

“The lab?” Lucas said, eyes wide.

“But it’s heavily guarded. That’s a suicide mission!” Mike says, scared.

“I know.” Steve frowns. “That’s why, whether he likes it or not, I’m going too.”

“Steve… you can’t!” Lucas retorts.

“B-But why? Why are you going?” Dustin asks, while shooting up to his feet.

“‘Cause I made a promise, to myself, to you, that I will get your sister back. And Will. I gotta try to keep that.” Steve explains, still with his sadden expression.

“B-But…” Now he was feeling conflicted. He still dislikes Steve, but the fondness had just started to reform over these last few hours. How was he supposed to even feel about this sudden epiphany? “But you might not make it back.”

And what if he doesn’t come back? Then what? If his sister comes back and he doesn’t, how will she react when she knows the truth?

Steve’s face morphs a small smile of comfort, before saying, “I know. But I have to try to get them home. They’ve been gone long enough.” His response made the youngster ponder on his thoughts as he moved his attention to someone else. Eleven stares back at him, an expression similar to his.

“Eleven.” He begins. “I want to thank you for everything you’ve done. I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner.”

“Are you…” She whispers, almost scared to say what she wanted. “Are you really not coming back?”

His heart clenches. “I promise I’ll try. But if I don’t, remember what I said to you, back at the Quarry, after you saved me?”

She nods slowly. “You said, ‘Whatever you did in the past, that’s all said and done. All that matters now is what you do in the future’.”

He chuckles. “Exactly. Remember that. Go out there and do something great for yourself. Don’t let anyone try to change your mind.” Steve perks up when he hears someone exiting the building; His stomach dropping at the sound. “Shit. I gotta go. Take care of each other, okay?”

The gloomy kids shake their heads as he starts stepping down the bleachers for the floor below -- Mike hot on his tail.

“Steve!” He starts, catching up and stopping him. “Hey, Steve. I just wanted to say… thank you. Thank you for… saving me at the Quarry.”

Steve shrugs it off, eyes darting between the kid and the door. “Don’t mention it, Wheeler. It was nothing.”

“Nothing?” Mike shakes his head in disbelief. “You could��ve died. Y-You could’ve–”

“Hey.” He touches the kid’s shoulder. “We’ll talk about it some more later. Okay? Stay here with the others.” He waits for the kid to say ‘Ok’ before leaving, jogging quickly to stop another group of people leaving. “Hey, Nancy, Jonathan, wait.” He waits until he has their attention before finishing with, “I need you guys to stay here. Keep an eye on the kids.”

Nancy blinks. “What?”

“I’m going to the lab. I’m going to go get them back.”

She looks over at Jonathan, who was just as surprised at his response as she was, before looking back at her boyfriend. “Steve–”

“You were right, Nance. I did change willingly.” He scoffs quietly at himself. “I know… no amount of apologizing could undo the damage I’ve done, but if I can do this at least for her, then maybe my conscience can rest a bit.”

“Steve…” She frowns worriedly. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. There are still a lot of things I haven’t told you about my parents, about what happened to Stephanie in her childhood, but it’s a lot. It’s a lot I need to make up for.”

“Steve…” She frowns worriedly. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. There are still a lot of things I haven’t told you about my parents, about what happened to Stephanie in her childhood, but it’s a lot. It’s a lot I need to make up for.”

Nancy looks away for a second, remembering what was said in the alleyway earlier with Tommy and his gang.

Carol snickers and laughs. “The nerd? Stephanie fucking Henderson? You really think those two were ever friends? He just felt sorry for how fucked up her family was and took pity.”

“Yeah.” Tommy says, grinning. “A drug addicted mother, a father arrested for illegal gambling; Two ‘fantastic’ people managed to fucked their own son over and give him all kinds of birth defects and diseases. I’m surprised your family gives them so much pity.”

“W-Wait…” Nancy pauses to try to wrap her head around what she had just heard. “Claudia…” What? “Ms. Henderson isn’t a drug addict.”

“Awe.” Carol pretends to pout. “Looks like Steve’s parents haven’t gotten close to you yet. What a shame.”

“His parents have a lot of dirt on a lot of people.” Tommy said in a sickening way. “Especially the Hendersons. There’s so much that this town doesn’t know about them, it’s shocking. Stephanie has a shit ton.” He chuckles. “God, the Harringtons can bury her to the center of the Earth with all the dirt they have on her.”

“So, I’m going to go instead of you guys.” Steve’s voice broke her thoughts, looking up at him as she noticed his gaze was landing on the other boy. “I’m going to get your brother back. And I’ll keep your mom safe.”

Jonathan shifts his weight, lost for words. “Steve–”

“Take care of the kids.” Steve replies, and walks out the door, ignoring the others pleas to come back. As soon as he’s outside, he’s met with Hopper who’s about to speak– “It’s not up for negotiation, I’m going with you.”

Hopper lets out a frustrated groan, before gesturing between the teen and Joyce. “Why don’t any of you fucking listen to me?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Their combined scream from the baby demogorgon jump scare caused a chain reaction to happen. They couldn’t see them, but they definitely heard more coming… along with something else. A screech that they haven’t heard before erupted from the petrified skies. The thing they saw flying suddenly became two, then three, then four, and then burst into a whole swarm of–

“BATS!” She screams, as they kick into high gear. “They’re fucking bats!”

“What do we do?!” Will screams back, all the hope they felt suddenly went down the drain.

“Just run! JUST RUN! We need to get to the lab!!” The Byers boy had a point–

This was the final level. But, unlike a video game, there are no extra lives. They got one shot at going home, one shot at beating this game. They gotta give it their all!

Pushing themselves to the point of panting, the monsters’ battle cries started to subside a smidge, just a smidge, knowing they were at a semi-safe distance for now; But they didn’t want to stop running just yet. Not until they–

“There’s a pipe!” Will yells, eyes trained on it. “A drain pipe!” They rush for it, shedding their backpacks as they peered inside. “This has to lead to the lab.”

Stephanie looks inside, measuring it out with her eyes before looking down at herself. Even if she shed some her heaver clothes, there’s no way she can–

“Come on!” He says, starting to go in but–

“I can’t.” She replies, stopping him. “It’s too small. I won’t be able to go all the way through.”

“Crap. Um… t-the fence! Let’s just keep running for the fence!”

“Will–” She snags him by the arm before he can move again. “You need to crawl through yourself.”

“What?”

“You need to go through the pipe yourself.”

A blink. “What?! No! I can’t–”

There was a loud screech from behind them, making them wince, but Steph more determined. She takes a deep breath and holds him by the shoulders.

“Listen to me–” She starts, but he’s already protesting. “Listen– Listen to me! I will meet you on the other side. I will climb the fence, and I’ll meet you at the end of the drain pipe.” She gives him a gentle squeeze for her next words. “However, if I’m not there in five minutes after you, you need to go inside and go home.”

“W-What?” Is she insane? “N-No! I won’t!”

“Will, you need to listen.”

“NO!! I’m not going home without you!”

“Will, you have to trust me! One of us needs to get to the gate, and expose this place. You need to trust me. Please.”

“Stephanie–”

“I am going to do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen, but if five minutes are up, you need to go inside, okay?” She says, the water works starting as soon as he starts crying. “Okay?” She shushed him softly, cupping his face and touching her forehead to his. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be fine. Everything is going to work. Okay?”

He sobs. “O-Okay…”

“Good.” She sniffles, letting him start his journey alone. “Go.” Another shriek in the distance. “Go! I’ll be behind you!”

As soon as he’s completely inside, she takes off once again -- the bats in the sky following rather close.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It didn’t take long to get there at the speed Hopper was driving. Once his vehicle is parked in a shadow-y area, Joyce and Steve follow him as he uses bolt cutters to get inside the fence. Not really sure what the plan was going to be here as they strolled across the fields, but it definitely wasn’t for them to be spotted so quickly.

As soon as the searchlight shined on them, they froze with a man shouting, “Don’t move!”

Slowly, the three of them were surrounded by guards, all armed at the hilt, and they decided to finally raise their hands above their heads as a surrender.

“It’s alright.” Hopper says, as he carefully watches the angry guards. “Let me do the talking.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

The run to the fence felt like an eternity before it was in her sight. Ditching the backpack seemed to help her speed, yet it felt like it wasn’t enough -- like she could be quicker (But being starved, cold, and mentally drained might have something to do with it). She tried to keep her eye on the prize, yet still hoping that Will got to the other side before her. She hated that she had to put the weight of getting home and exposing this place without her, but it’s better on her conscience if he got out of here first.

It’ll be better for everyone, to be honest. Let the youngest one live. (God, what would her mother think about that if she knew?) She nearly tripped as she slowed herself just enough to catch the fence, latching her fingered around and starting to climb. She’s not even going to think about she’s going to get around the barb wired above; I mean if she has to lose a few fingers to get home then so be–

Something awfully sharp sank into her shoulder, tearing through her clothes like it was paper. She let out a frightful scream, using a free hand to knock off and continue climbing.

So close, so close. I’m so close to–

Something flew by, knocking her in the head and sending her hat to the ground. Then, she felt something slimy wrap around one of her arms, another by her leg before being yanked clean off the fence. She fell flat on her back with a huge thud, finally getting a sense to look as she struggles to break free. The Bats– or if you can even call them that! They sure had the wings of one, but their faces were similar to that of the Demogorgon. No eyes, just a mouth, and where their feet should be was like the bottom half of a squid, slimy tentacles that were used to pull her off. And they were hella strong too… she almost could feel her circulation being cut off.

Groaning at the discomfort, Steph uses her free leg to kick the bat to set her other leg free before doing the same on her arm but–

These damn things were persistent.

The whole swarm had come out to feast, as one came flying in and sank its teeth into her side. She lets out another scream, trying to hit and get away before her arm was wrapped around again. Then another set of teeth came in, then another, and another– She felt these things teeth everywhere, their tentacles pulling her around in every direction they could. Everytime she pushed one away, another came back to take its place.

She couldn’t move, she couldn’t think. The only sense she had was hearing, and all she heard was the god awful sounds these things made. She started to see those spots people talk about in the corner of her eyes, the dizziness in her head, those– Oh, God. She already had one close call in this place, she’s been saved once, what makes her think she’s going to get a second? The thought of this time actually being her last left her numb, no tears and bitterness, no screams as she waits for the end. She truly felt noth–

Red hot flames erupted around her, their sounds turning up to a fifty. The fire caught on them quickly, their holds on her subsided, making her curl on her side, and her hand coming up to stop her oozing neck. She didn’t even question what was going on. Anyone with a nose could smell the strong odor of hair spray.

Will… She thought, as the boy behind waved the lighter and can around until they all flew away into the night. The place got so quiet again; The monsters hopefully were scared off, hoping they stay away for the rest of their time. Maybe this is…

“Stephanie!!” Will shouts, and drops everything. “Stephanie!” He’s rushing over as quickly as he could, watching the girl struggle to get up, to move on her own, so he drops to his knees just beside her head. “Stephanie?”

“W-W-Wi-ill…” She choked, as he carefully flipped her over, revealing the damage. He takes her bloody face, and hand squeezes around her neck ever-so painfully.

“St-Steph…?” Cautiously, his trembling fingers wrapped around that hand, slowly prying them just enough for him to see the damage. He held back the urge to gag, the chunk of flesh that was gone was enough for him to see inside. He heard her say his name again, enough for her to start taking action. “H-Hang on! I-I got y-you!”

He lays her head on his lap and starts shaking his coat off, removing her hand and replacing it once the fabric was over the wound. “H-Hold your hand there.”

“W-Will…”

“Just relax. Y-You’re fine, I’ll…” He trails off, his brown eyes raking over the rest of her body, identifying more wounds. There were bite marks everywhere. Some were barely at the surface, and some were deep like the one on her neck. It was…

Horrifying. Fictional or not, this was far worse than anything he’s ever read, ever seen in his entire life. This was something that would surely give him nightmares. All this because… because… he…

I… I did this. He felt his eyes start to sting, and his throat closing up. This is… this is all my fault.

He did this to her. He did this to her! All of this started because of him! She wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for him. He did this, he did this, he did this, he did this–

Her fingers brushed his cheek so gently. And she’s–

Smiling?

He felt himself stare, confused. Why is she smiling? Why would someone smile in a situation like this? Is she–

“H-Hey… it’s n-not your f-fault. D-Don’t bl-blame yourself.” She chokes, keeping the expression on which made him break even more.

“How can I not?” Will asks, tears already flowing. “If you hadn’t driven me, none of this would have happened.”

“W-Will… y-you didn’t force m-me to drive you. I-I just wanted t-to make s-sure you got home okay.”

“But– w-we didn’t.” He sobs. “We both got stuck here. We both got trapped in some scary place, and now you’re hurt because of–”

She shushed him like she did earlier, so gentle, so kind as she held his face. “L-Listen to me.” She begins, swallowing to try to make her voice a bit more clear. “I never, ever thought of driving y-you was a burden. Even if I-I knew t-that we would end up here, I still would h-have driven you.” He shakes his head. “I still would have, if it meant y-you wouldn’t have to be alone here. You kn-know?”

A few stray tears fell loose as he muttered her name.

“And…” She continues, eyes welling up too. “I-I would have done that f-for anyone. For you, your mom, your br-brother, your friends, anyone. I-I would do it time and time again if it m-means you guys wouldn’t be alone in this place.”

He closes his eyes for a second, trying to find his voice again. “Stephanie… pl-please…”

“Listen t-to me–” She says, stroking some of the tears away from his cheeks. “Y-You gotta go home.” He shakes his head again. “You gotta g-go home, f-for the both of us.”

“Steph… n-no.” Will whimpers and opens his orbs. “W-What do I say? What do I say to everybody?”

“You j-just tell them t-the truth. Tell them everything. Even if th-they don’t believe it.” She chuckles quietly. “At least I know y-your m-mom would.”

“Stephanie… I don’t… I don’t know what to say. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know, I–”

“Hey… look at me.” She waits for him to, and gives his face a small squeeze. “I’m s-sorry I can’t go with you. D-Don’t blame yourself, pl-please. I did all this because I-I c-care for you.” That seemed to make him ball harder, and lean down closer too. “I-I love that… D-Dustin became friends with you. Y-You’re a wonderful boy, and I’m s-so happy, d-despite this cr-crappy situation, I g-got to know you even more.”

He makes a small whining sound, shutting his eyes again. “Stephanie...”

She sniffles and smiles a bit more. “I-I love you, Will. Y-You go home, and live f-for the both of us. O-Okay?”

He sobs loudly, shaking his head as another round of tears fall. “I’ll l-live…” He croaks, lip quivering. “I-I love you, t-too…” He felt her squeeze again, before her fingers slid gently down his face, her hand disappearing. “Stephanie…?”

He cracks open his eyes once more only to find the stillness of her body. He looks all over her face for any signs of movement, but–

“Stephanie?” He touches her face this time, feeling a bit colder than the surrounding temperature. He knows they technically just said ‘goodbye’ but… “Stephanie?”

He knew waiting for her to say something was hopeless, but he waited. He waited for a long time before it hit him in the face. He couldn’t help but sob again, shaking his head before resting his forehead on hers like she did earlier too. The girl that he slowly realized was like a sister to him was…

Gone.

(TBC)

A/N: I can assure that everything will be fine soon 🙂

-Taglist is Open-

@ladygrey03 @poppet05 @tooearlyforthis @lovesfics @lordzzz

@mirkwoodshewolf @sadbitchfangirl @olivewisp

@emsownuniverse @unspecifiedvisitor @smaryamsstuff @kitty49646 @jinxeee @bookkeeperlove @prozacgooble @goth-baby98 @aainr @luca-random-stuff @catradorapotter @bailees-post @dearabby1990 @savage-aespa @aainr

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relicshamecircle · 3 days ago

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My fics were plagiarized! A timeline and update

Hello Pilgrimage folks and non-Pilgrimage folks,

It's been less than week since I learned that someone plagiarized my Pilgrimage fanfics and published them as their own, but that's an eternity in Internet time and quite a lot has happened since Sunday, so I figured I should post an update of some sort.

How did you learn about this in the first place?

On Sunday, a very kind reader commented on my fic An Invitation to Happiness asking if I'd published it as an original novel, because, if not, an ebook they were reading, The Beauty and His Beast by Layla Moran, was extremely similar. I went to the ebook's Goodreads page, read the summary, and thought, "Well, there are similarities, but--" and then I scrolled down to look at the reviews and saw that people were describing exact scenes from my fic.

I went to Layla Moran's author page on Goodreads and immediately recognized two more titles, The Rancher's Mail-Order Husband and The Warrior and the Monk, as my two other multi-chapter Pilgrimage fics, Bluebells and Daylillies and Wild Roses Running Rampant, and how rich the earth, how bright the stars. My heart dropped--those three ebooks were some of her most recent "works" and they'd been published over the course of the last few months. The Warrior and the Monk was the first of mine she took; its publication date was listed as December 1, 2024.

What did you do next?

I panicked, and proceeded to tell my friends and fellow Pilgrimage fans what I'd found, and, while I floundered, they all immediately rallied around me. We started reporting the plagiarized works and stating that they were plagiarized in reviews. Someone found Layla Moran's Reddit username and posts that she made on the subreddit MM_RomanceBooks, which prompted me to start writing my own post with the thought that, whether or not we could get the ebooks removed, I could at least show readers in the community that her works were plagiarized so the word would get out and others would be dissuaded from buying them.

How did that work out?

Great, eventually. As stated in the eventual Reddit post, I don't have much social media at all. I write fic, I post it on AO3, and I'm here on Tumblr, mostly reblogging stuff but occasionally letting Pilgrimage fans know when I've posted another Pilgrimage fic. I tried to make a Reddit account and kept getting error messages, which only made me more frustrated and stressed. I was really certain that if I could just show a wider audience these example comparisons of Layla Moran's "books" to my fics, then things would be okay! My friend @pilgrimagesource, who had by that time already made a Tumblr post about the situation, also made a Reddit account so that she could share the post I'd written on my behalf.

Except that new Reddit users need a certain amount of karma before they can start creating posts of their own! More frustration and stress ensued! Pilgrimagesource proceeded to comment on any Layla Moran-related topic she could find and promptly got her comments deleted as spam because, well. It was the definition of spamming. But, the mods were extremely kind and had looked at the evidence and allowed her to finally make the post.

What happened next?

It gained a lot of traction very, very fast, and while I had been focused on my own works, people quickly realized that Layla Moran also published works under the name Rey Luca, and that nearly all of the ebooks from Layla Moran/Rey Luca were plagiarized from other fanfic authors from a wide variety of fandoms.

Other Pilgrimage folks informed their writing and fandom communities to spread the word. Another friend of mine created a spreadsheet to keep track of the ebooks, their corresponding fics and their real authors and fandoms, and whether or not the ebooks had been removed or not. The situation was extremely shitty, but I can honestly say I found it very heart-warming to see everyone working together to make sure that the real authors were identified and informed as well as leaving reviews and submitting reports.

And?

And that was my entire Sunday, essentially. I went to bed exhausted. The next morning I took a walk with a friend before heading to work--because writing is currently a hobby for me, and I don't make any money from it, and I have a full-time job to pay the bills! However, just before my shift started, I saw that books were disappearing from Layla Moran's Amazon and Goodreads pages, that the Reddit and Tumblr post had gotten huge, and that more people had found out their works had been stolen and were just as shocked and disheartened as I was. But it'd only been one day! Progress was being made!

Alright, so what now?

Now it's Friday and--well. I'm not really sure. On my end, Audible still has the audiobook for The Warrior and the Monk up for preorder (and it's set to be released on July 1), but I know that Tantor Media, the publisher, does not seem to have it listed on their site anymore. The page for the audiobook is now blank, and searching for Layla Moran's name on the site brings up no results. Her author bio page can still be found with some extra digging, but The Warrior and the Monk is not listed. The ebooks were all self-published on Kindle Unlimited; I suspect because the audiobook involved an actual publisher and involved a contract of some sort, it will take longer for everything to get taken down across all websites. I will be keeping an eye on it, though.

Currently, there are still some books on Layla Moran's Amazon page, perhaps because they were printed instead of just ebooks? I'm unsure how that works. On the other hand, Rey Luca's Amazon page seems to have been taken down, but there are quite a few more books still listed on the Goodreads page, though most of the reviews now state that they are based on stolen works and list the Reddit or Tumblr post or link the original fic.

What are you going to do about your own fics?

Nothing.

All of my fics were and are written for my own enjoyment, and for the enjoyment of those who read them. In the past few years there's been a lot of discussion about AI scraping and locking fics to prevent them from being used to train AI, but, from what it seems here, that doesn't stop someone from joining AO3, copy-pasting an entire work into a document, using the find/replace tool, and then using AI to rearrange some of words or add a few more paragraphs and then publishing it and passing it off as their own.

So, that sucks, and will always be in the back of my mind now. But at the same time, I think the reason I found all this out, and what might have been a factor in how those three initial ebooks were pulled so quickly, is because my fics are posted publicly for anyone to read. The evidence was really obvious when the ebooks were compared with my fics.

A lot of people commented that, at the very least, this proves that my writing could get published. That was also a sort of silver lining because--I think like many fic writers--one day I would like to be a published author. However, if I ever get something published it will be an original work. I will never edit and republish any of my long-form fics as novels because they weren't written with that goal in mind.

I write fics because I love the source material so much that I want to play around with the characters and the themes and create alternate universes and--just have fun. And I like sharing that with others; if someone reads one of my fics and likes it and it makes their day a little better, then I'm happy. And that's why my fics will continue to be available for anyone to read for free!

I have updated my AO3 profile to basically say all this, with the addition that I allow translations and podfics so long as you as ask and send me a link when you're finished.

And I think that covers everything so far! Thanks for reading, as always!

#pilgrimage 2017 #layla moran #rey luca #this is a long and perhaps self-indulgent post but I think I deserve some self-indulgence after this week

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apomaro-mellow · 11 months ago

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King and Prince 23

Part 22

It was story time again. The kids were chattering as they got settled in on the couches and chairs. Eddie sat in his own special chair at the head. Steve almost didn’t come tonight. He had a lot to think about after the talk in the forest. He sat down at the end of a couch, Dustin, Will, and El acting as buffers between him and Eddie. A few times they caught each other’s gaze anyway, quickly turning away when they did.

There was a moment…they locked eyes and didn’t look away. The children’s chatter fading in the background. Eddie had his hands clasped in front of him, knees up as he perched on the chair like a gargoyle. He wondered what Eddie was thinking, what did he see when he looked at him? A spoiled, naive prince? Someone who needed constant watch? Someone he liked to see getting fucked?

What were they to each other?

Lucas snapped his fingers in front of Eddie’s face, bringing him back to the present and making him start the story. Eddie gave a quick recap of where they left off and then the kids had all of his attention. That left Steve able to stare unbidden. He was able to watch him gesture with his lovely hands, always adorned with at least three rings. His eyes, wild yet kind. His hair, that he knew was soft but didn’t know how it might feel between his fingers.

Steve knew the feeling spreading through him but was hesitant to call it by its name. The man before him was putting on a squeaky but commanding voice as he pretended to be a mouse knight to assist the adventurers on their journey. He was the same person who had transformed right before Steve’s eyes into a beast with fangs and claws. He had dispatched a bear and then let Steve pet him in the same moment.

When the story reached the end of tonight’s chapter, Steve didn’t linger. Instead, he walked out as the kids trudged, sticking close to Dustin.

“Hey, can we talk?”, Steve whispered, keeping it between them.

“Can it wait until morning?”, Dustin asked, admitting he was tired by rubbing his eyes.

“No”, Steve pulled him into a random room.

“What’s the all about?”, Dustin plopped onto a chair. A fire was already going in this room and Steve wondered if somebody had just left it.

“I’ve been thinking recently about the things you said. About Eddie.”

“What about Eddie?”

Steve sighed. “About how I should start seeing that Eddie might have different sides but they’re all him. He is capable of great feats of power but…” he sat down next to Dustin. “He is also the kind to let you run over him.”

“So you guys are officially friends now?”

“I think it might be more than that-”

“Are you serious right now?”. Robin interjected, book in hand as she stood in the doorway.

Dustin and Steve looked at her like children caught in the act. The fire roaring in a room with no one in it made more sense now. Robin came in, closing the door behind herself, arms crossed now.

“You two are having a midnight heart to heart about Steve and Eddie without me? Does that make any sense to you?”

Dustin held his hands up. “I was just dragged here. Technically it’s my bed time.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Don’t pretend to be responsible now.” Then he gave his attention to Robin. “I didn’t know you were so invested.”

“I just think it would be really funny if the man who wanted to kill our beloved king turned out to fall for him. I didn’t realize Eddie was sooo charismatic and charming.”

Steve’s face got warm and he covered it by walking over to the fireplace. He hadn’t really thought of those words in regards to Eddie before. He’d met many a flirtatious person. People who tried their best to woo him. People who knew which lines to use, just how much to touch without being pushy, and knew how to let their eyes linger on certain body parts without appearing lecherous.

Eddie had never purposely come onto him and yet Steve was longing all the same. Longing for a man he could never have.

“Even if I did think he was charming, what could come of it?”

“Probably flowers and poetry, right?”, Dustin said.

“Knowing him, really flowery poetry at that. And poetic flowers”, Robin added.

“You two are forgetting something though”, Steve said as he came back over to sit. “Eddie isn’t just Eddie. He’s a king. A king of a country I’m meant to fight at that.”

Robin groaned and sat on Steve’s other side, dropping the book onto the table. “I thought you let that go.”

“I have!”, Steve said quickly. “I have. That doesn’t-that doesn’t matter to me the same way anymore. But the world isn’t just the two of us.”

“What’re you saying? Are you worried about the rest of us?”, Dustin asked. “We might rib you but if you actually like Eddie, we’re not gonna string you up for it.”

“He has an entire kingdom to care for. And I don’t think the rest of that kingdom would be so kind as to forgive me and allow me to court their ruler.” Even if Eddie reciprocated, the announcement would make such waves that civil unrest was all but promised. And Steve couldn’t do that. He couldn’t risk that. Maybe if he still had his full status as a prince they could spin it as a political alliance. But at this current time, tying himself to Steve would have no advantages.

“I think you’re imagining things”, Dustin said.

“I think you’re over exaggerating them”, Robin said.

Steve had talked about it all he could and sent Dustin off to bed before going off himself, leaving Robin to her fireside reading. Eddie wasn’t an option. He just wasn’t. And to remind himself of that, Steve kept going out to meet lovers in town.

-----------------

Eddie curbed the jealousy in his gut when he saw Steve ride out to town. He didn’t own the prince, nor was he entitled to his affections. No, the problem wasn’t when Steve went out. The problem was how he pushed the curfew later and later. But the real problem didn’t start until the night Steve didn’t return at all.

Part 24

Taglist

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie

@goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble

@jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24

@justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord @notaqueenakhaleesi @swimmingbirdrunningrock @queenie-ofthe-void

@nebulainajar @lil-gremlin-things @nicememerino @robininblue @hornedqueenofhell

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @moomkin77 @here4thetrama @bookworm0690 @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane @puppy-steve

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie

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ladykailitha · 9 months ago

Text

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 15

So... just one more chapter to go. I've experienced a wide range of emotions with this fic and to be honest, I'm grateful it's nearing the end.

I still will do the final book, just not sure when. As always keep an on the #boy with a bat, tag.

We finally get the moment you've all be waiting for. Robin and Steve on the floor of the bathroom.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Eddie spotted the Russians in military gear first. Two beefy guys with huge fucking guns and looks that would absolutely kill. Then he spotted two little blue sailors ducking into the theater. As far as he could tell, the soldier boys were looking for his friends, which meant the little idiots found their secret base.

“Found him,” Eddie hissed into the walkie talkie. “Only there are bad people looking for him. Please advise. Over.”

“You two together?”

“That’s a negative,” Eddie whispered. “Subject has ducked into the theater and the two bogies are in the food court and little ole me am stuck in the middle.”

“Is there a way you can lead them away from Steve without putting you in danger?”

Eddie chewed on his lip a moment and then said, “I don’t think so.” His lip quivered and a little sob escaped.

“Hey, hey,” Wayne said soothingly. “It’s going to be fine. I want you safe just as much as I want Steve safe, all right?”

Eddie breathed in deep and then let out a shuddering breath. “Yeah, I’m really worried now. Even though I’ve seen him, it’s somehow worse than not knowing.”

“It only feels that way now,” Wayne murmured gently. “Just keep an eye out for both our boy and those Russkis, you hear?”

“Yes, sir!” Eddie replied weakly.

“I found out our beloved chef of police hasn’t been in town for the past couple of days either,” Wayne said, his tone grave.

“Shit!” he hissed. “This is beginning to look like an actual fucking conspiracy and I hate those.”

“I’m heading to the Sinclairs next,” Wayne said, “There has to be something–” there was the screeching of tires and then, “Holy fuck. I nearly ran over the younger Byers boy and the Sinclair kid. It doesn’t look good, Ed. They look like they’re gearing up for war.”

“Get them here as quick as possible,” Eddie said, “I have a feeling that what those shitheads are up to, it has to do with what’s going on here.”

Wayne let out a long piercing whistle got all the kids attention. “You need to get to the mall, I can get you there faster than on foot.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Lucas said politely, “I don’t think you want to be involved in this.”

Wayne scoffed. “Look kid, I’ve see a lot of horrible shit in my time, and I don’t know much, but I do know that Steve is in trouble and you guys are the only ones who can help him. So maybe cut the bullshit and get in the god damn truck.”

They all looked at each other and then nodded.

Mike pointed to El. “She’s hurt, can you help me get her in the truck?”

Wayne immediately hopped out of the truck and walked over to her. “I’m guessing any suggestion to take her to the hospital would met with resistance if not outright hostility?”

El and Mike looked at each other for a moment before El said. “I like him.”

Wayne laughed and bent down to pick her up. “I’m going to lay her on the back of the bed of the truck, you can stay with her if you like.”

Mike nodded and hopped up to the truck to help him get her situated. Once he was sure they were comfortable he hopped back into the driver’s side.

“Um...” Will said nervously, “how did you know they were at the mall? Dustin just contacted us, we just found out.” He left out the part that El had read Dustin’s mind to find out he was there.

Wayne glanced at him sidelong. “Your answer is on the other end of that walkie talkie.”

As if on cue the walkie talkie squawked to life. “Uncle Wayne, I just spotted the subjects going into the bathrooms by the theater and the bogies have moved off past the carousel. I’m going to make contact.”

Wayne grabbed the walkie talkie. “Sounds good, Ed. I have the sheep and am on my way back to the mall.”

“Eddie!” Will exclaimed excitedly.

“Baby Byers!” Eddie cried back. “I’m guessing things are freakier than Russians under the mall.”

Will went on to explain what was happening in town and what the plan was.

“Yeah, that’s pretty freaky,” Eddie said solemnly. “But between you and me we can deal with freaky, right?”

Will smiled and Wayne fought down a smile of his own. It was good to see his boy make Will feel better about the situation around his disappearance. Will had been called a freak a lot after that, and that was what they called Eddie too. But Eddie learned to own up the moniker and now he was helping Will feel the same.

God Steve hated puking. It was the worst. Right after concussions and being told by your very drunk girlfriend that she never loved you.

“Let’s see if the drug is still in us,” Robin suggested, leaning up against the wall.

Steve slid under the stall wall and into hers. He looked at her and breathed a sigh of relief. She was shaken but unharmed.

“When was the last time you peed your pants?” he asked, going for silly instead of trauma mining or secret finding.

“Today,” she admitted and then let out a gasp. “Yup! It’s still in there.” She covered her mouth with a giggle.

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what? You peed your pants today?”

Robin held up her finger and her thumb and put them close together. “Just a little. When they were interrogating you.”

That made sense he supposed, with a wince. He was pretty terrified himself. He nodded and then waved at her to ask him something.

Her expression got soft. “Have you ever been in love?”

Steve was little surprised by the answer if he was honest. Which considering the drug running through his veins, he had to be.

“Twice,” he admitted softly. “The first was Nancy Wheeler.” It actually physically hurt to say that. He had loved her. Despite what she thought about her cheating and his sexuality.

“Seriously?” Robin said with a laugh. “Miss Priss?”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Turns out, not so much.”

She was fierce and tenacious and everything Steve wished he could be, but wasn’t.

“The other is this most amazing, weird, talented person imaginable,” he muttered. “I never thought I’d fall for them, but fuck I thank whoever every day that I did. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without their support.”

“Steve...” Robin muttered. “I appreciate it, but if you really knew me, you wouldn’t like the person I am.”

Steve blinked at her for a second and then tilted his head. “Huh?”

“There was a reason I was so mad at you when you first started working at Scoops,” she murmured. “Last year in Mrs. Click’s history class. You would come in late, make a mess of the stupid bagel you ate, and all the while, she was looking at you instead of me.”

“Who? Mrs. Click?”

“No!” Robin huffed, kicking her foot against the toilet. “Tammy Thompson. She was looking at your stupid hair and your stupid smile and I would just go home and scream into my pillow.”

Steve blinked for a moment and then burst out laughing. “You thought I was talking about you?” He laughed again. “God, I thought I had terrible taste! Tammy Thompson is a dud.”

Robin’s mouth dropped in shock. “No she’s not. She’s going places. She can sing.”

“No she can’t,” Steve teased and broke out into song.

“You sound like a Muppet!” she hissed, kicking at his thigh instead.

Steve snapped his fingers. “Yes! That’s it she sings like a Muppet!”

She burst out laughing again. “All right dingus, if you weren’t talking about me, who were you talking about?”

Steve picked at his nails for a moment. “Eddie Munson.”

Robin’s eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. “If we weren’t under the stupid truth serum, I would tell you to fuck off. Are you gay?”

“Yeah,” he said not looking up from his nails. “He was so kind to me after the whole shit with Hargrove and Nancy and he just makes me feel like a full person again. And he knows about all this bullshit, too. Because I told him.”

“So you and Eddie, huh?” she asked softly.

Steve nodded again.

Just then the door to the bathroom swung open and standing behind Dustin and Erica was Eddie.

“Hey, darlin’,” Eddie said, leaning against the door frame. “We’ve really got to stop meeting like this.”

Steve blinked up at him with a dopey smile. “Like what?”

“You puking your guts out.”

Steve’s smile broke out into a wide grin.

Eddie blinked at the flying car. Of all the things that he’d heard about, that was definitely not one he ever thought he would ever see. Not that he was complaining about the rescue. Of course not, that would be rude. And Uncle Wayne did not a raise him to be rude.

Then Super-girl collapsed in pain and a wiggling, squirming thing could be seen under her skin. Jonathan bent down and was going to cut it out but his hands were shaking too bad.

“Out of the way,” Eddie bit out. He grabbed the knife and pushed Jonathan to the ground. He turned to the brave girl. “You ready?”

She nodded once.

With the flick of his wrist the thing burst from her skin landing a couple of feet from them. Thankfully the opposite direction Jonathan had fallen but still gross.

Eddie turned green and scrambled to get away. Everyone else froze at the sight of the thing as it tried to get to El again.

BANG!

Eddie looked up to see Wayne with the rifle and Hopper and Joyce flanking him, with a small weaselly looking guy, peering around Joyce.

“Jane!” Hopper cried and ran to her.

She held him close and whispered, “Why didn’t you kill it?”

Hopper chuckled and turned to face Wayne and Joyce. Then he turned back to her. “I’m a good shot, sweetheart, but Wayne is the best and there were just too many people around and I didn’t want to hurt no one.”

El thought about it for a moment. “Thank you.”

Wayne nodded slowly and lowered the rifle.

Everyone filled everyone else in. Mind Flayers were real. Cool. Cool, cool, cool. And by cool he absolutely meant terrifying.

Dustin and Erica offered to show Joyce and Hopper to the Russian base.

Hopper looked down at Dustin with the absolute despair of an adult who knows the answer to the question but absolutely has to ask it anyway.

“Why does it have to be you and Erica and not Steve and the other girl?” he asked after drawing his hands down his face.

“Because Robin, that’s the girl by the way,” Dustin said cheerfully, “were drugged and really don’t remember anything about how we got out.”

Hopper lifted his eyes skyward and put his hands on his hips, pursing his lips. Yup. That was the answer he thought he was going to get.

Murray stepped up. “You can do it through a walkie talkie kid,” and handed him his. “I’m not going to let a couple of eight year olds walk into that mess. Especially now that we know what’s going on.”

“I’m eleven you bald headed freak,” Erica sassed back, hands on her hips.

“Besides,” Dustin said, looking smug as hell, “we know walkie talkies don’t work beyond a certain point so they would be absolutely useless.”

“Yeah,” Erica agreed. “We only went down in the elevator and the walkies wouldn’t work.”

Dustin rubbed his hands together. “What you need is someone who has seen their com room, has a communications tower big enough to get to you below the mall, and knows the way there.”

“Oh wait,” he said with a smug grin. “You have me!”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance and they both rolled their eyes as Hopper ran his hands over his face again.

“We’ll need a head start,” he said ignoring all the groans around him. “And a car.”

Steve held up his hands. “Don’t look at me, the Russians took my keys.”

Hopper shook his head. “Now that we know it’s Billy, your car would stand out too much.”

“I’ve got my van,” Eddie said, raising his hand.

Hopper scratched his chin. “And do you think that Billy would recognize it?”

Max scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah...”

“Do I want to know?” Hopper asked with a raised eyebrow.

Max opened her mouth to reply but Eddie cut her off with a hard, “No.”

Hopper looked Eddie up and down and then nodded. “Right, you’ll take the car I ‘borrowed’ instead.”

He tossed the keys to Steve who caught it one handed.

Everyone went their separate ways, with the five of them, Robin, Steve, Eddie, Erica, and Dustin, heading out to find this car.

Steve threw out his arms and sighed. “This is more like it.”

It was a suped up yellow hot rod convertible with the vanity plate of TODFTHR

Robin raised an eyebrow and sneered, “The Todd Father?”

“Steve’s her daddy now,” he purred.

Eddie started laughing. “Honey, we aren’t playing who’s your daddy right now, but we are sooo going to talk about that later.”

“What does that even mean?” Dustin asked, scrunching up his nose.

Eddie grabbed the keys out Steve’s hands.

“You probably have a concussion and at least double vision,” he huffed before Steve could protest, “I’m driving.”

Steve sighed and let him take the keys.

“Back seat, Buckley,” Eddie huffed, sliding into the car as Erica got in and Dustin hopped over the door.

She rolled her eyes but did as she was told, sliding next to Erica as Steve hopped into the passenger seat.

Part 16

Tag List: THREE SLOTS REMAINING

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @blondie1006

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades

7- @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911 @birbsauce @acingthecounts

8- @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @ravenfrog @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts

9- @clockworkballerina @bluelightsinthevoid @blcksh33p1987 @i-go-pink-in-the-night @mamafaithful

10- @w1ll0wtr33 @samsoble

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #boy with a bat

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yourfriendlyfanperson · 4 months ago

Text

A Chemical Reaction Called Love

Chapter 3: A Boring Life

~Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!reader

~Summary: Being the daughter of Hawkins Middle School Science teacher, Scott Clarke, has its perks. Constantly having to explain things to 'King' Steve Harrington wasn't necessarily one of them but it was something you had gotten used to. He might not be the brightest guy but at least he tried, and you appreciated that. You had big plans for the future, but they might be forced to change thanks to a phone call...

~Warnings: Sensitive topics might be brought up so reader discretion is advised.

~Word Count: 3.4k

~Authors Note: Hey everyone! Here's chapter three! Thanks so much for the love on the previous chapters! I'm still getting used to how posting fanfics on tumblr works so I appreciate all the likes and reposts! If you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter let me know! Once again you can find me on Ao3 as Lilpipsqueak and W-tpadd as friendlyfanperson!

Does anyone know how I can make the previous chapter numbers appear and be linked to this? I've been trying to figure it out lol

~Narrator's POV~

Y/n walks inside the middle school going to her dad's room, the place is very quiet, which is the opposite of what the school is usually like, there is a very uncomfortable atmosphere around but it's to be expected, after all, one of the students was announced dead, it's not something that ever happens or people think will happen.

"Hi dad," She says standing at the door.

"Hey honey, thanks for coming to help the kids by talking about losing someone," He tells her walking out of the room.

"No worries, how are the boys doing?" She asks him, walking next to him.

"I'm not sure, I haven't seen them today, they must be having a rough time though, I can't even imagine"

Y/n doesn't even want to imagine how they must be feeling, they're only twelve years old and have already lost their best friend to some terrible accident, no kid should go through what they're going through, but the circumstances can't be changed, unfortunately, and all they can do is be there for the boys so things are easier for them, comfort them in any way possible, and make sure that Will's memory lives on.

"Attention students, there will be an assembly to honour Will Byers in the gymnasium now. Do not go to fourth period"

The principal announced from the speakers, when it all goes quiet again they can hear voices coming from somewhere near and just as they turn to the right they see the three boys with a girl standing in the corridors.

"Boys?" Scott says as they turn to look at him.

"Hey," Lucas says, trying not to seem suspicious.

"The assembly is about to start" Y/n adds.

"We know," Mike tells her, "We're just, you know"

"Upset," Lucas explains with a smile before looking down sad.

"Yeah, yeah, definitely upset" Dustin repeats.

"We need some alone time," Mike says.

"To cry" Dustin adds.

Y/n looks at them confused, noticing they are acting stranger than usual.

"Yeah, listen, I get it, I do" Mr Clarke begins telling them, "I know how hard this is, but let's just be there for Will, huh? And then" he gets his keys out from his pocket and tosses them to Mike, "The Heathkit is all yours for the rest of the day, what do you say?" he asks them.

The boys look at him with a smile nodding, happy with the idea.

"I haven't seen you around here before, is she new? What's your name?" Y/n asks the blonde girl standing next to Mike.

"Elev-" The girl begins to say before she's interrupted by Mike, Lucas and Dustin.

"Eleanor, she's my-"

"Cousin!"

"Second cousin"

"She's here for Will's funeral" Mike adds.

Y/n stands there trying to figure out whether the three boys expected her to really believe the obvious lie they just told her, and by the look of it they were sure she was going to believe it.

"Ah, well, welcome to Hawkins Middle, Eleanor, I wish you were here under better circumstances," Her dad tells the girl.

"Thank you" She softly says.

"Uh, where are you from exactly?" Y/n asks her.

The eyes of the three boys widen as they turn to look at Elenor who shakes her head.

"Bad place-"

"Sweden!" Dustin shouts. "I have a lot of Swedish family" Mike adds. "She hates it there" Dustin mentions. "Cold" Lucas says. "Subzero"

Everything feels very awkward after that, Y/n and Scott look at each other, confusion visible on their face, but they decide to just move past the conversation.

"Shall we?" Her dad says looking at the kids.

"Yep," Lucas says as they all walk towards the sports hall.

Dustin opens the door to the room interrupting the principal and drawing everyone's attention to the five of them.

"Great" Y/n mumbles.

Dustin turns around trying to leave but is pushed back inside by Lucas.

Lucas, Mike, Dustin and Eleanor take a seat on the benches while Y/n and Scott sit on the chairs behind the principal.

"We have Y/n Clarke from Hawkins High to talk to you guys a bit about how it feels to lose someone, Y/n," The principal says turning to look back at her.

She stands up taking a deep breath, public speaking it's not fun, especially having to talk to a bunch of clearly bored and annoying pre-teenagers. Y/n smiles at the principal walking next to him and moving to look at the kids, most of them looked like they couldn't wait for this to be over, some were mildly interested or at least respected the situation, a very small group was actually upset, and then in the crowd, she saw two boys laughing, she noticed that Mike and Lucas saw them too, and man does she hate bullies.

"Can you two at the back be quiet?" She shouts glaring at the two boys, they look back at her embarrassed and annoyed but stop talking, "Thank you"

Now I could share with you the sad story that Y/n is telling the kids, but in reality, the anecdote isn't actually that sad, she doesn't even remember her mother at all, she died when Y/n was only two-years-old in a car accident, but stretching the truth for the kids to stop being little assholes wouldn't hurt at the end of the day. So she put on her best sad face and took ten minutes of the kid's day to share the story.

"So let's keep Will's memory alive, and show some respect," She says finishing her speech. The bell goes off and the kids start leaving the room, Y/n walks over to her dad, "You okay?"

"Yeah I'm okay honey" In comparison to her Scott obviously remembers her mother a lot, and he gets very sentimental whenever someone talks about her, it's a sensitive topic.

"Do you want me to go talk to the kids?" She asks him.

"No don't worry, I'll talk to them you should go back to class," He tells her with a smile, she smiles back at him and waves goodbye as she walks out of the gym.

Y/n walks back to the High School and gets on with her usual day. Nothing interesting really happens after, she just attends her lessons, has lunch with Robin, and then meets once again with her dad so they can go home. Her life really is pretty boring when she thinks about it, always the same cycle over and over, it would be nice to do something new for a change.

~~~~~~~~

The next day school was cancelled since it was Will's funeral.

Y/n woke up at 8:00 am to get ready, the funeral was scheduled to start at 11:00 am and would probably last about two hours, after that most people would attend the wake which would last about an hour or so, which meant Y/n would have enough time to go back home, get changed and then walk to her shift which starts at three thirty.

She changed into the outfit she had planned for the funeral, lucky for her she already had black clothes which meant she didn't need to buy new ones for this day, it wouldn't have been fun to buy clothes for a funeral.

All she could think about while getting ready was the fact she was attending Will's funeral, it really was happening, he was actually dead, it wasn't just a bad nightmare she had anymore, it was a reality. No one ever wants to attend the funeral of someone younger than them, they're supposed to live longer than you after all, so when that doesn't happen it's just so heartbreaking.

"Are you ready to go honey?" Scott asks her as he knocks on her door.

"Yeah, let's go," she says walking out of the room and closing the door behind her.

The drive to the funeral was completely quiet, neither Y/n nor her dad had the strength or energy to try and initiate a conversation, there wasn't much to talk about anyway, so really it was for the best.

When they arrived he parked his car at the car park next to the church, they both got out and walked towards Joyce and Jonathan who were standing in front of the soon-to-be grave. Y/n went up to Jonathan and gave him a big hug, she hadn't seen him since Will went missing, and she wanted to ask him how he was feeling but she guessed that was the last thing he needed to be asked today, so instead she just gave him a soft smile as she moved away from the hug and turned to look at Joyce.

She doesn't say anything, she looks so confused to be there like it isn't right.

Y/n wanted to say so much to Joyce, she wanted to tell her how sorry she was for what had happened, how she couldn't believe it was Will out of all the people it could've been, how he was such a fantastic kid he didn't deserve this, but she couldn't tell her that, not at this time anyway, "We'll be here if you need anything" was all she said, with a soft smile.

She turns to look at the kids, she expected them to be already crying their eyes out or something along those lines, but instead, they seemed normal, they didn't look upset or sad, and they didn't even look like they were hiding their feelings, which Y/n would've definitely found weird if it wasn't for the fact that the moment she saw the boys she just wanted to breakdown into tears and hug them.

"How are you guys doing?" She asked them walking over to the boys.

"We're okay," Dustin tells her looking over at Lucas and Mike.

"You guys know it's okay to cry, right?" She tells them.

"Yeah, we know," Dustin says looking at Lucas and Mike, the three of them nodding.

"Good, I'm here if you need to talk" She adds and they smile at her.

More and more people start arriving, but instead of people talking more everything goes completely quiet, and eventually, the funeral begins.

All Y/n is able to do is look down during the entire speech, she barely has the strength to look at Will's casket, it's so small, and caskets shouldn't be that small. In the end, everyone throws some flowers inside the hole before they close it.

Everyone then heads to the wake, there are tables and food organised in the place, and most people are talking, probably about something not even remotely related to Will, Lonnie is speaking to Mr and Mrs Wheeler, meanwhile, Joyce is sitting by herself, on the other side of the room Y/n and Scott are getting some food from the lunch table, when Mike, Lucas and Dustin walk up to them.

"Mr Clarke," Mike says, Scott and Y/n turn around to look at the boys.

"Oh, hey there, how are you boys holding up?" He asks them.

"We're...in...mourning" Lucas answers.

"Man, these aren't real Nilla Wafers" Dustin mumbles, Mike and Lucas turn to look at him as if he just said something irrelevant, which he did but kids usually do that.

"We were wondering if you had time to talk?" "We have some questions" "A lot of questions," Mike and Lucas say.

"What do you want to know?"

Mr Clarke, Y/n and the three boys take a seat on one of the tables and begin to ask the questions, they ask about alternate dimensions but not an alternate dimension where Will's death never happened but more about an evil alternate dimension, like the Vale of Shadows, and then they ask how one would travel there, theoretically of course. Scott explains things to the boys in the simplest way possible which is by comparing things to a flea and an acrobat, explaining how there are places an acrobat, which in this case is them, can only explore so much, meanwhile, a flea will be able to reach places they can't. The boys ask if there's a way the acrobat could reach the upside down, and he explains that it only would be possible by creating an insane amount of energy one bigger than humans can currently make which could open up a gate to reach the upside down.

"Science is neat, but not very forgiving" Scott adds as he finishes explaining things to the boys.

"You guys always have the weirdest questions you know," Y/n says chuckling as she looks at the three boys, she had this feeling that they were hiding something, that there was something going on with them, but she couldn't figure out what it was.

"We're just... very curious," Dustin tells her looking at the other two who nod at this comment.

"Well make sure that curiosity doesn't kill you," She says with a smile standing up, "I should probably start saying goodbye to everyone dad, I need to leave soon so I can get ready for work"

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you home?" He asks her.

"It's okay, I know you want to stay here longer talking with the boys and everyone else, and I have my skates anyway so it won't take me long to get home" She explains to him.

He sighs smiling at her knowing that he does, in fact, want to stay longer and that either way he won't be able to change her mind, "Be careful" he says.

"I will, love you dad, bye kids, you can call me at home if you need anything okay?"

"Okay"

~~~~~~~

After working for five hours Y/n was finally able to say goodbye to her last customer, she turned on the radio and listened to 'Old Time Rock & Roll' while she cleaned the cafe, dancing along to the song and singing the lyrics as she organised everything and made sure it was nice and clean. When she finally finished she turned off the light and walked out of the cafe closing it and locking it, she put on her skates and started skating over to her house.

She was glad she didn't take today off work because it actually helped her get her mind off everything that had happened lately, the cafe has always been a comfort place of hers so it made her feel better.

Normally she didn't mind going home after work alone, Hawkins had always been a very safe place, and she always carried some bleach in a bottle in her bag just in case, but after Barb's disappearance, the thought of walking alone at night was not so fun. So she decided to skate as fast as she could so she could get home soon, unfortunately, Y/n had her sleeves rolled up and forgot the fact it was a cold night in November and the ground would be frozen, so when she tripped on an uneven step she didn't just stop herself like she usually did but instead fell forwards on the rocky ground scraping her arms.

"Fuck" she says pushing herself up and carefully standing again, she looks down at her arms to see that they're bleeding, great, "Why is blood so dramatic?" she asks herself rolling her sleeves down, not even trying to stop the blood knowing it will be a waste of time anyway.

She continues skating to her home, and slowly this feeling that she's being followed starts growing in her stomach, she turns around to look behind her but sees nothing, she shakes her head, telling herself that she's tired and anxious so it's just her mind making her paranoid, she continues skating but the feeling doesn't go, if anything it just gets worst, she keeps looking around hoping it will make her feel better but instead she sees a weird shadow inside the woods, a tall, dark figure with a strange head; she picks up her pace trying to go as fast as she can while being careful so that she won't fall again, she looks back at the woods to see the figure closer than it was before, she doesn't care if she falls again she starts skating as fast as she possibly can, her eyes not moving away from the tall shadow that was getting closer, scared that she might end up like Barbara, missing and possibly dead.

Meanwhile, Steve Harrington was driving his car down the road she was about to walk across, he had just dropped Tommy and Carol at their house after going to check on Nancy, and it hadn't gone well, he saw her with Jonathan and was convinced that she was cheating on him with Jonathan.

Y/n was freaking out so much she didn't realise when the car stopped right in front of her until she is stopped by the car crashing against the side door, she looks inside the car to see none other than Steve he looks at her confused noticing she had in fact just hit her head against his car, he rolled down his window as she looks back seeing the tall, shadow creature leaving the woods and making its way towards her.

"Hey Einstein, are you okay?" Steve asks checking on her.

Y/n doesn't even take a second to think, her survival instincts and panic took over her brain, and all she does is open the passenger's door getting inside the car.

"Go!" she shouts at him, his eyebrows knit together as he looks at her puzzled.

"What?"

"Steve just go! Go! Go!" she shouts at him.

Steve lets go of the brake pedal and push's down at the accelerator as he turns to the left and drives away as fast as possible, Y/n turns back as she watches the dark creature fade away into the dark disappearing from her view. Neither of them says anything during the drive, Y/n didn't even know where Steve was taking her until he parks in front of a house.

"What the hell just happened?" he asks turning to look at her confused and worried.

"Someone or something was following me, I was trying to get away from it and then I bumped into you and I didn't know what else to do, I got scared I was going to end up going missing or kidnapped or something like that, I'm sorry I didn't mean to get into your car like that" she explains apologising once she takes in the incredibly bizarre situation.

"It's okay, I mean we wouldn't want you to go missing" she nods at him, "Is your arm okay?" he asks, looking down at her arm worried, Y/n turns to look at him confused.

"What?"

"Your jacket has blood around your arm" he points out.

"Oh, it's nothing I just scraped my arms when I fell," she tells him rolling her sleeves up.

"That doesn't look like nothing" he adds.

"It's fine I'll just disinfect it when I get home"

"You could just disinfect it here, we have saline solution," he says turning off the car and looking at her.

"Won't your parents mind?" she asks him, not wanting to bother anyone.

"They're probably already asleep, they won't even notice I just got home, we can quickly disinfect your arms and then I can drive you home" he suggests to her.

"Oh no it's okay I don't want to keep you up for longer"

"It's fine really, I was probably going to stay awake for a while anyway," he says smiling at her as he opens the door and gets out of the car, walking towards the passenger's door.

"Thanks," Y/n says getting out of the car and closing the door, "Who knows what would've happened if I hadn't bumped into you"

"Well, I do owe you big time, this is one of the thirty I guess" he chuckles locking his car and walking to the front door.

"You still got a long way to go," she smiles at him.

"Yeah well let's hope the next one is me passing my chemistry test without your help," he tells her with a smile opening the door.

Y/n laughs at him as she walks inside, "Then you've got a lot of studying to do"

Thank you for reading! Any likes and reblogs are very appreciated!

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington romance #steve harrington season 1 #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fanfic

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inawickedlittletown · 2 months ago

Text

We've Got A Long Way To Go (BuckTommy) - 15/22

Summary: A few months after the break up, Buck picks up a call that changes everything. Tommy has his own regrets, and an unexpected meeting and a change in Buck's life will bring them together. Fix-it fic. Words: 3.2k Read on Ao3 Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen - Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Between his shifts running long and being called in when more pilots were needed for a fire on what was supposed to be his day off, Tommy got to see Evan and Lucas only once over the next week. They’d gone to the park for a couple of hours and then just settled down at the loft to watch a movie during which Tommy fell asleep and Evan did research on his laptop. Tommy had woken up with a blanket covering him on the couch and Evan holding a sleepy Lucas that was drinking a bottle of formula. He’d stayed long enough for Evan to put Lucas to bed and then Evan had kissed him at the door before Tommy went home wishing that he could stay instead but well aware that Evan’s couch was a lousy place to sleep and that he had a shift to get to in the morning.

With Lucas around and Evan worried about a million different things, they had yet to have another conversation about their relationship, but they had sort of fallen a bit back into what they had before, if more chaste. The most he and Evan had managed was to exchange a few kisses. Tommy sort of liked it in a way.

The whole week, he and Evan kept texting back and forth, but it really wasn’t the same as seeing him in person. Lucas, too, for that matter despite how many pictures Evan sent him. When he and Evan dated before there had been plenty of weeks where their shifts didn’t align, but there hadn’t been a kid involved. Either of them could show up to each other’s stations for lunch or dinner or just to have a five minute conversation. Evan wasn’t even at work, but it took so much more for him to leave the loft. Lucas changed things and not just for Evan. Tommy missed Lucas in a way he hadn’t expected.

Outside of their day at the park and Evan video calling him a couple of times, Tommy didn’t see Lucas or Evan until it was time for the funeral.

The morning was sunny, but then it was LA. Evan had been fretting over the last couple of days about the funeral and how Lucas would take the whole thing. It had led to a long conversation over the phone just the night before. Tommy didn’t think that Lucas was likely to remember much of it or even understand it, but they still didn’t want the day to go down badly with him.

For Tommy it brought up his own past. He’d been to enough funerals over the years, but the one that still affected him was the one he attended when he was six. His mother’s.

Tommy didn’t even know who had planned it because it definitely had not been his father. Come to think of it, it had probably been his paternal grandparents. They’d been around a lot after she died. His father had been drunk pretty much the whole time even during the service at the church. Tommy remembered crying, how he’d bawled his eyes out and his father had told him to man up. He didn’t even know who had been there or what had been said, but he remembered the coffin and knowing that she was really and truly gone.

On the drive over, Evan’s hands fidgeted on the steering wheel. Tommy reached over and grabbed one of them.

“Hey, relax. It’s better that he has this than if he doesn’t. You should have let me drive.”

Evan shook his head. “Your car doesn’t have a carseat.”

“I could have driven your car, Evan,” Tommy pointed out.

“Oh. Right.”

There was a lot of space between them. For all that Tommy thought they’d sort of fallen back into what they’d been like before the break up, there were times when he couldn’t help but think that Evan wasn’t letting him in fully. Not that he was keeping things from Tommy, but more that he was more hesitant about the things that had come easily before. It was like he was trying to handle everything on his own without asking for help even from Tommy. Tommy didn’t know what to do about it exactly without adding a burden to what Evan was already dealing with. He didn’t want to push and he didn’t want to make anything about him or their relationship when Lucas had lost his parents and Evan had lost his friends.

The funeral was at best described as generic. There was no one outside of the officiant that spoke about either Connor or Kameron as they were laid to rest. The words could have been about anyone at all. They shared a gravestone with dates that were way too close together. Hen and Karen had found Lucas a little black suit to wear and as adorable as he looked, the reason for it made Tommy want to cry.

While Lucas didn’t really understand what they were doing, he did seem to understand that he should keep quiet. Evan had brought a few pacifiers just in case, but they didn’t seem to be needed. Lucas sat on Evan’s lap with his teddy bear.

The whole of it went quick and the whole time, Tommy held Evan’s hand to give him any comfort that he could. Evan’s grip was tight and his face had a stoic look to it that Tommy wasn’t used to but then grief did weird things to people.

When it was over and people began to stand, heading closer to the caskets to pay their last respects, Evan closed his eyes tight and only opened them when Lucas pat his cheek.

“Efan sad?”

“Yes. I’m sad.”

Lucas looked towards Tommy as if Tommy could somehow solve that.

“Hey, do you know why we’re here?” Tommy asked.

Lucas shook his head.

“This is a funeral. It’s for saying goodbye.”

“Bye bye?” Lucas asked, tilting his head.

“When someone dies we have a funeral to honor their lives and to send them off. We’re saying goodbye to your mom and dad today so it’s very sad,” Tommy explained. “But, it’s okay to be sad because we miss them.”

“Mama? Dada?” Lucas asked and he turned his face as if he was going to find them somewhere near them at any moment.

Tommy was suddenly glad the funeral hadn’t included blown up pictures of Connor and Kameron to display. He couldn’t imagine what that would have done to Lucas.

“They’re not here, Lucas,” Evan said. “They died, honey, that’s why we’re here to say goodbye to them.”

There was no telling how much of it Lucas understood, but he did slump into Evan as if he were looking for comfort. He let Evan hug him for a time.

Eventually, he lifted his head. “Mama and dada bye-bye.”

“Yeah,” Evan said.

Tommy didn’t know what he expected Lucas to do, but he was a kid and he’d been sitting on Evan’s lap for long enough to be done with it.

“We should—” Tommy began just as a woman approached Evan, completely ignoring Tommy next to him, her eyes drawn straight to Lucas.

“This is their son, isn’t it?” she asked. “Poor dear.”

She was pretty, long dark hair and golden eyes. Her black dress was skin tight in a way that Tommy didn’t think was appropriate for a funeral, but she was looking at Lucas more than Evan. When Tommy had asked him days earlier if he knew anyone going to the funeral, Evan hadn’t been sure because he never kept in touch with the other housemates from when he lived with Connor. He definitely didn’t seem to know this woman.

“Yeah,” Evan answered as he stood up from the chair.

“I worked with Kameron. I was so sad when I heard what happened to them,” she said and reached out to touch Lucas’ back. “I’m even sadder for this little guy. I just wanted to commend you on taking custody of him. Kameron told me a bit about the situation. She had such a hard time when she and Connor couldn’t get pregnant right away. I can give you my number if you need to talk about them or just help with him.”

Evan sputtered. “Oh. I — that’s—”

Evan looked towards Tommy and then back to the woman. Tommy didn’t think it was his place to interrupt.

“It’s no trouble at all,” she hastened to say. “I mean it.”

Lucas made a noise in Evan’s arms, signaling that he wanted to be set down. She cooed at him and tried to take Lucas out of Evan’s arms. Evan angled him away from her towards Tommy. Lucas seemed to think that meant he was going with Tommy because his hand grabbed onto Tommy’s suit collar, pulling himself closer.

“Here, I got him,” Tommy said. “He’s probably done with sitting around.”

Evan let him go and Tommy swooped him up in the air and then into his arms, bouncing him a little as a form of distraction. Lucas giggled, but he still wanted to be put down. There were far too many people for Tommy to feel comfortable doing that so he walked out of the crowd to a clear space and then lowered him, a part of him conscious that he was leaving Evan behind to deal with Kameron’s friend. Lucas was unsteady on his feet on the slightly uneven ground, but he took a few steps, Tommy following close behind. When Lucas bent down, he stood back up with a yellow dandelion in his hand. He waved it about for a moment but then made to put it in his mouth.

“No, sweet boy, that does not go in your mouth,” Tommy said, stopping him with a gentle touch to his wrist.

Lucas tried to wiggle out of his hand.

“Are you hungry? I think we have some snacks for you, but flowers are not snacks.”

He looked back over to where he’d left Evan. The woman had been joined by two guys around Evan’s age and he watched as Evan spoke to them, cutting the conversation short when he excused himself from them. Tommy tightened his jaw when he saw her grab Evan’s arm as if to stop him. He shook her off and whatever he said to her made her drop her hand.

Lucas meanwhile was still trying to eat the dandelion.

“Not food, kid,” Tommy said. “But we can give it to Evan. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

“Give me what?” Evan asked.

Tommy turned Lucas towards Evan and Lucas extended the crushed dandelion to him.

“He tried to eat it,” Tommy said. “Might be time to get him a snack.”

“For me?” Evan said to Lucas, taking the dandelion. “Aren’t you the sweetest? Thank you.”

Tommy saw Evan tuck it into his pocket.

“Did she give you her number?” Tommy asked. “Seemed pretty insistent.”

“I told her I didn’t want it,” Evan said.

They trailed after Lucas as he took a few more steps and then plopped down on his butt. He pulled at the grass but at least didn’t try to eat it.

“Hmm, you could have taken it. Maybe she would have babysat.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “I don’t think her interest was in being Lucas’ babysitter.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” Tommy said maybe a little more sourly than he’d intended.

Evan grabbed his forearm. “Hey, did it actually bother you?”

In truth, it hadn’t. Not really. He had known right from the moment she approached that Evan would shoot her down. It just hadn’t been pleasant to watch and it had reminded Tommy a bit of their six month anniversary dinner and that woman that approached their table. That had also not bothered him in the moment, though. He did wonder what Evan had told her in the end.

“No,” he said.

“Good. You have nothing to worry about.” Evan kissed his cheek, but when he pulled back he frowned. “Tommy, are you alright?”

Tommy rubbed a hand over his face. “I should probably be asking you that. You knew them.”

“I did, but you look a lot worse than me right now and I’ve been a mess all day.”

Tommy could probably argue that that wasn’t true. Evan’s eyes were still watery and red. He hadn’t smiled once all day. It had been an emotional day all around and the last thing Evan needed was Tommy’s baggage.

“It’s nothing,” Tommy said.

Evan shook his head. “It’s something. What’s happening right now, Tommy?”

It was the way that Evan was looking at him, a bit of a frown, his eyes vulnerable and worried and like he wasn’t going to give up until Tommy answered. Evan was stubborn, Tommy had seen it plenty of times. This was one of them.

“Just…I was thinking about my mom,” Tommy admitted, hanging his head a little. “This just reminded me of that. I don’t really let myself think about her often, but this hits close to home.”

“Oh,” Evan said.

“Yeah. I’ve been trying to just not think about her too much, but I can’t help it. Actually, the day of the accident when I heard we were transporting a kid, it took me right back there and now…”

Tommy let out a shuddering breath and looked towards Lucas who was still ripping grass and throwing it around him and on himself. He had gone from upset and confused moments ago to just happy. Lucas giggled and pushed himself to his feet. His suit was covered in pieces of grass. It was definitely going to leave stains.

“Now it brought it back again,” Evan said. “Can I ask about it?”

“We should get Lucas a snack,” Tommy said, “he’s looking at the grass like he’s contemplating if he should eat it. And yeah, you can ask about it.”

Tommy hadn’t talked about it with anyone in years. Abby had known, but only because after Tommy asked her to marry him she asked if she was ever going to meet his parents. So Tommy had explained about his mom and while he didn’t tell her about the homophobia coming from his father, everything else was enough to explain their lack of relationship. Sal had known his mom was dead too, but not the details. He wanted Evan to know everything.

They got back to the car and Tommy got out the stuff that Evan had packed. Applesauce in a squeeze pouch that Lucas seemed to love and a small container with dry cereal. Evan had done his best to clean off the grass and Lucas was distracted by his food and didn’t seem to mind being put in the car seat to eat it. He and Evan kept the door open but they stayed outside the car just within his sight.

“Tell me about her,” Evan said.

Tommy hadn’t expected that. He’d expected Evan to ask about her death.

“She was really young when she had me,” Tommy said. “Seventeen when she got pregnant. She was a kid herself and yet she made the most of it. Loved me. We used to go on all kinds of adventures because my father worked all the time and so it was just us a lot of the time. She was beautiful and smart and she loved to sing. She was also really kind. I remember we were at the store one day and the woman in front of us couldn’t pay for her groceries for some reason and she just paid them for her like it was no big deal even though we didn’t have a lot of money either.”

“She sounds amazing,” Evan said.

Tommy nodded, feeling the lump in his throat. If only she had lived. Tommy imagined that his life would have been very different if he had his mom around. His father might have still been a homophobic asshole, but he didn’t think she would have agreed with him.

“She was. She really was.” Tommy took a breath.

“When did she die?” Evan asked.

“I was six. It was a car accident. We were hit and we spun out on the road and went over a bridge.”

Evan gasped. His eyes widened and there were tears gathering there. Tommy checked on Lucas, but he was fine and still working on his applesauce pouch.

“Tommy,” Evan said, reaching for him.

Tommy let Evan embrace him, ducking his head to Evan’s shoulder and breathing him in. Evan’s hand rubbed his back and Tommy just let himself take all the comfort and love that Evan was giving him. On this day it should have been him taking care of Evan, but he had needed this too. When he pulled back, Tommy kissed his cheek. If he didn’t tell Evan everything, he wasn’t sure if he would ever manage it.

“She died, bled out,” Tommy said. “I found the report on the accident years later. I needed to know. There was nothing they could have done to save her. Didn’t stop my father from blaming me for it every chance he got.”

“God, he sounds like an asshole.”

Tommy chuckled. “He is. Once she was gone, she took any ounce of happiness in that house. Any light died with her.”

Evan’s hands came to his face, wiping tears away.

“It’s why I went to the hospital that day. After Kameron died and hearing his father was gone too I just wanted to be sure he’d be alright. I’m so glad I did.”

“Me too,” Evan said. “You’re so strong, Tommy. People face tragedy every day and they succumb to the worst parts of themselves, but look at who you are. Your mom would be so proud of you and you know, I think maybe she brought you to me and Lucas that day.”

Tommy wasn’t necessarily a crier, but he allowed himself to just let go. Evan was there and Evan was holding him again, a hand in his hair and one on his back.

“I miss her so much,” he whispered.

“I know you do. Let go, baby, let it all just go.”

He did and it didn’t matter that they were parked at a cemetery and that Lucas’ parents had just been put to the ground. It didn’t matter that some of the funeral attendees were walking to their own cars and looking at them. Tommy just let himself cry for a while and Evan held him the whole time until he remembered—

“Lucas?” Tommy asked.

“Throwing cereal,” Evan said. “Never going to find it all.”

Evan’s car was never going to be clean again, not unless Evan was somehow meticulous with cleaning it and even Evan couldn’t manage that. Somehow, he didn’t think Evan cared that much.

“Hey, Evan, she would have really liked you.”

Evan smiled, pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I would have liked her too. And, hey, you can talk to me about her any time you want. I’m here and I’ll always listen.”

Tommy turned to peer inside the car. Lucas was indeed getting the cereal everywhere but in his mouth. The way his smile widened upon seeing him and Evan looking at him made something settle inside Tommy. One day Lucas would probably understand that he’d had parents before Evan took on the task and his grief would look different than what Tommy felt, but Tommy would be there to talk him through it.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #911 abc #911 fic #tevan #kinley #tevan fic #kinley fic #fix it fic

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