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rafecameronssl4t · 5 months ago

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Officially your bitch || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

Summary: basically what happened in s1 ep 2 when Sarah is getting a teddy from the boat with Rafe, Kelce, and Topper watching but obvs slightly different. (you being the one faking being hurt)

Warnings: swearing, mention of gun,

Word count: 977

A/n: canon fics are so fun to write 😫

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

Divider by @yoonitos

mood board here

"Jeez, man, this is nuts." Topper lets out a low whistle, staring at a boat nestled in someone's garden bed. "Agatha's a bitch," Rafe mutters. "Damn right, she is," Kelce adds as the three boys gape at the sight.

"I can't get it outta my head. It's on repeat. 'Your move, broski.'" Topper repeats JJ's words from a couple nights ago, when a gun was pointed at his head. "Bro, he had a semiautomatic pointed right at you!" Kelce chimes in.

"That's what I'm saying. It's insane!" Topper scoffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Safety off!" he emphasizes, his voice rising. Kelce shakes his head, his expression a mix of disbelief and disdain. "That pogue," he mutters, his tone dripping with contempt.

Rafe, who had been staring intently at the waterline, snaps back to the conversation. His gaze sharpens as he looks at his friends. "They're freakin' pogues, man," he declares, his voice tinged with a mix of anger and exasperation.

"You know, you should get a piece," Rafe suggests, his voice steady as he looks at Topper. The gravity of his words hangs in the air. "What do you mean?" Topper asks, a puzzled expression crossing his face as he turns to Rafe.

"You gotta fight fire with fire and defend the homestead," Rafe replies matter-of-factly, as if it's the most logical solution in the world. "Better than being caught without one," Kelce shrugs, offering his own brand of nonchalant support. Rafe nods in agreement, his gaze unwavering.

"Listen guys, I'm gonna get him back, all right? I'm making it a little project of mine," Topper reassures them. Rafe hums approvingly, patting his friend's back. "Yeah, you should," he affirms with a smirk.

Kelce suddenly taps Rafe's shoulder. "Yo, that's y/n." Rafe and Topper turn their heads in unison, their curiosity piqued. They see you kneeling on one knee, talking gently to Joy, your mum's best friend's little daughter.

"Oh, so you left her in the boat?" you ask softly, your voice filled with understanding. Joy nods, her eyes wide with worry. "Okay, can you tell me what she looks like?" you stand up, smoothing down your shorts. Joy looks up at you, her face serious. "She has a trunk and blue eyes," she replies, her small voice clear.

The three boys watch intently as you smile reassuringly at Joy. "Okay, I'm gonna get her for you," you say, turning towards the boat. "Be careful of the electricity," Joy quietly warns. You smile to yourself, touched by her concern, and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you carefully step onto the boat.

"Don't worry, I'll be okay. It's really dangerous, so stay there, okay?" you reassure Joy with a confident smile. Rafe, standing a few feet away, removes his sunglasses, his eyes narrowing as he watches your every move. "What's she doing?" he mutters to no one in particular, his concern evident.

"Watch her fall and make a big drama out of it," your brother scoffs, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He crosses his arms, clearly unimpressed by your antics. Rafe glances at Topper, eyebrows raised. "Hey! There's 14,000 volts in those wires," Joy's mum calls out urgently from the porch, her voice filled with anxiety.

You take a slow, deliberate step onto the plank, feeling it wobble slightly under your weight. With a mischievous grin, you glance back at the onlookers, enjoying the attention. A quiet shriek escapes your lips as you pretend to lose your balance for a moment.

"Hey, y/n, be careful!" Rafe hollers, his voice louder and more urgent now. He takes a step forward, his body tense with concern. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," your mum mutters as she walks out onto the yard, her face a mask of frustration and fear. "Y/n, get down now!" she shouts, her tone a mix of anger and desperation.

"Mum, calm down. I'm an athlete. I got this," you reply playfully, flashing her a reassuring smile as you continue your careful approach toward the boat. Your confidence does little to ease the tension among the onlookers. The plank creaks under your weight, but you maintain your balance,

"You're gonna get electrocuted! Get down!" your mum screams, her voice trembling with panic. You ignore her, your focus on the gentle sway of the boat as you step onto it. "She just wants attention," Topper mutters, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Are you kidding me?" your mum persists, her tone growing more frantic. You turn to face her, a playful grin spreading across your face as you shimmy your shoulders, teasingly.

"Oh my—no. When I tell your dad about this, y/n!" Your mum exclaims, her voice a mix of exasperation and genuine fear. "Y/n, that's not fucking funny," Rafe yells in annoyance, his frustration bubbling to the surface. He watches you with a mixture of concern and irritation, unable to shake off the worry that gnaws at him.

"Little fried y/n," Topper comments, a smirk playing on his lips as he observes the scene unfold. Kelce looks at him, puzzled by the comment, but Topper simply shrugs it off. "Top, your sister's crazy, man," Kelce remarks, shaking his head in disbelief as Topper snorts, "Tell me about it."

With a knowing smile, you reach the boat and spot the disconnected wire exactly where you expected it to be. "I see her!" you call out across the yard as you place a steady hand on the boat.

"Y/n!" your mum's voice echoes for what feels like the hundredth time, a mixture of frustration and genuine concern laced in her tone. "When I tell your dad—" Her words are abruptly cut off by your convincing scream as you pretend to slip into the boat. "Fuck—" Rafe's reaction is immediate, his instincts kicking in as he rushes forward.

After a few seconds, you grab the cord, swinging it in front of you with a smile. Kelce breaks out in laughter at your prank, the sound mingling with the collective sighs of everyone watching. Rafe's face fills with relief and annoyance as his tongue pokes agains this inner cheek. "It's disconnected!" you announce with a laugh.

"Holy shit!" Kelce smacks Rafe's shoulder, his eyes wide with amusement as he looks at you, clearly annoyed and unimpressed. "For the love of God," your mum mutters as she slips her sunglasses back on and strides away, clearly needing a moment to recover from the prank.

"She got you good, man," Kelce snickers, unable to hide his laughter at Rafe's bewildered expression. "Absolute suckers!" you crow from the boat, your laughter ringing out triumphantly. "Babe, you should see your face," you giggle, retrieving Joy's teddy bear. "Yeah, okay, yeah, I'm sorry that I care. All right, guilty," Rafe throws his hands up in mock surrender though his face expression remained annoyed.

As Rafe stands there, still trying to process what just happened, he feels a hand on his shoulder. "Congrats, dude. You're officially her bitch," Topper says with a smirk, offering his congratulations in his own unique way. Rafe rolls his eyes at the jest.

"Alright." Topper gives Rafe a hearty pat on the back. "Officially, did you know that? You're officially her bitch, alright?" Topper's laughter rings out as he teases Rafe, but Rafe isn't having any of it. With a swift motion, he slaps away Topper's hand. "Shut the fuck up, dude," he grumbles, shaking his head in annoyance before striding over to you.

"See! Just further proved my point, bro!" Topper yells amidst his laughter, clearly enjoying the reaction he's getting. Kelce joins in, chuckling at the playful banter unfolding before him.

Rafe reaches you, offering his hand despite his lingering annoyance. You giggle at the exchange, finding his frustration amusing. "Are you fucking crazy?" Rafe spits, his irritation evident, but you can't help but laugh at his reaction.

"Aww, I love you too, babe," you playfully pout, quickly kissing his lips before turning your attention back to Joy, handing her teddy bear over with a smile. Rafe stands there with a defeated look, unable to stay mad for long.

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rcmclachlan · 19 days ago

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"Everyone at Harbor was... very concerned."

"Attention, all channels: Please be advised, a team from the coroner's office and biohazard removal specialists have been dispatched to LAFD Station 118 for the removal of human remains."

It takes a second for the words "Station 118" to penetrate the thick atmosphere of concentration and rage that Tommy's been floating on while he tries fruitlessly to sweet talk the Bell 505 into accepting the new safety wires he's been trying to install for the last half hour, but the second they do, he tosses down the needle-nosed pliers in his hand and makes a bee-line for the radio sitting between Dana, Nico, and the unpeeled tangerine Nico's eating like an apple.

"Did they say human remains?" Tommy's already reaching into his pocket for his phone, then curses under his breath when he remembers it's sitting in the cockpit of the Bell. He glances across the hangar and gauges the distance. He can probably get to it in ten seconds if he sprints.

"Shut up," Dana says as she turns the volume dial up.

"Be aware that crowd control has also been sent to clear the area. If you are called to an emergency scene in the general vicinity of Station 118, you are advised to avoid Gale Avenue and the surrounding streets until further notice."

"A kid was probably trick-or-treating and found someone's grandma who'd kicked it like a week ago." Nico takes an unconcerned bite of his tangerine, because there's something severely wrong with him as a person. "It's probably nothing."

"That's not nothing?" Tommy looks at Dana for help, but she just heaves a sigh and gives a long-suffering flick of her fingers in Nico's general direction. Which, honestly? Fair.

"They said the remains were at the 118," she muses, pulling out her phone and scrolling through with her thumb, not a single movement wasted. "No one there ever gave off a serial killer vibe—I'm not counting that little blond shithead from a few years ago—so I'm chalking it up to a good old-fashioned misunderstanding."

Nico coughs around a bite of tangerine, rind and all, and Dana doesn't so much as glance his way while she slams a fist into his back. To the casual observer, it probably looks like they're rehearsing some slapstick routine, but every member of the 217 knows that the second Nico gets his hands on any kind of foodstuff, he's immediately seven or eight seconds away from death.

They've had to perform the Heimlich nine times this week alone, and it's only Thursday. He keeps meaning to ask Howie if it's possible to survive solely on IV fluids, but he has a sneaking suspicion that Nico would just manage to choke himself out with the tubing.

Tommy shakes his head in disbelief. "Nico, I'm begging you: chew your food. Or, like, peel the rind off first."

"Every part of the animal, my man," Nico trills cheerfully, wiping his mouth. There are orange bits stuck in his teeth.

Holding up a hand, Dana taps her phone with her thumb, her neon green nail—filed to a point so sharp it might actually violate the contract they all signed about not bringing weapons into the workplace—clacking against the screen. The sound of a calling dialing out filters through the speakers and it only takes two rings before someone picks up.

"You good, Dana?"

"Hey Mohini, I'm fine," Dana says with a small uptick to the corners of her mouth that could be almost be described as kind, and just seeing it makes Tommy's skin crawl a little. He glances at Nico, who has stopped trying to kill himself via citrus fruit and looks every bit as disturbed as Tommy feels. The last time Dana smiled, it was right before she launched herself at the asshole who told them to take their time rescuing his stepkid from the fire that was consuming the cabin his family had rented for the weekend.

They saved the kid, and the guy was too shit-scared of Dana to even consider suing her or the department for his broken jaw. He was also dealing with a sudden divorce.

The ex-stepkid writes to Dana every month. Tommy can't prove it, but he thinks he once saw her throw an envelope with the kid's name and address into the outgoing mail pile, and he's also too shit-scared of Dana to bring it up.

Dana catches his gaze and he mouths, who even are you?

She flips him off, which honestly does wonders to assuage his fears of her being possibly possessed.

"What's up, girl?"

"We heard the APB just now. What's going on with the 118?"

"What isn't going on with the 118?" Mohini laughs a little, crackling over the line. "From what I've heard, Firefighter Buckley bought a mummy for the Trunk or Treat thing they put on every year. A real one."

Startled, Tommy looks at the phone in Dana's hand and asks, very slowly, "He bought a corpse?"

Tommy can feel Dana's pointed stare on the side of his face, mostly because his skin is starting to sear, but Tommy can't do anything but stare at the phone and try to process that one. And he just can't. Every time he tries, the smell of burnt toast gets stronger.

"Honestly, I'm not even surprised. We've been overdue for a Buckley-related call. I mean, it's been two months since the last one. Remember the thing with the HVAC unit on Sunset?"

He barely remembers that Buckley-related call, but he does remember the one from three nights ago in great detail, which ended with him rimming Evan until he cried and then fucking his brains out. Apparently Evan forgot to put them back in before he bought a dead body to use as a Halloween decoration.

Blowing out a breath, Tommy turns on his heel, jogs over to the Bell, and grabs his phone from the pilot's seat.

Evan, are you okay? Dispatch said something about an incident at the 118, he texts, deliberately vague. He's been told once or twice that his texting tone can sometimes border on an interrogation, which is bullshit, because texting doesn't have a tone, but he doesn't want to be an asshole when he knows Evan's probably beyond humiliated about this.

Plus, Evan doesn't necessarily know that Tommy knows about the mummy. It'll be much better if he has the opportunity to tell Tommy on his own terms.

<< omw 2 the hospital. im ok!

Or he could just be incredibly Evan about it.

>> What happened?! Do you want me to meet you there? I can leave right now.

<< Awwww <3 Eddie going 2 meet me there. Come by l8r?

>> As soon as my shift ends, I promise. Are you sure you're okay?

<< disloc8ed shoulder

Evan literally had to go to a different keyboard to find the 8. Tommy hates how hard he's falling for this ridiculous person.

>> I'll fly there if I have to. Text or call me anytime, okay?

<< :-) :-) :-)

It's three smiley faces. It's nothing, and yet something inside him eases, turns three times, and curls up with a pleased purr.

Since he left the 118 and decided to finally live the life he'd spent his life refusing to allow himself to have, he's dated four people, Evan included. What he feels when he looks at those smiley faces is more than what he felt about the other three people combined. It's both terrifying and exhilarating. He never put stock in the whole 'there's someone for everyone' thing Sal's wife likes to throw around, but then he threw caution to the wind and kissed a beautiful, babbling man silent, and in the weeks that have followed his life seems so much more than he ever imagined it could be.

He has no idea how any of this is going to shake out, and chances are he's going to screw this up spectacularly, but he taps his finger gently to the middle smiley face and hopes Sal's wife is onto something. Maybe there really could be someone for him. Maybe that someone texts like a twelve-year old.

Rolling his eyes at himself, Tommy sends back a single smiley face and pockets his phone. And then immediately takes it back out and sends like five more, because he's pathetic.

Dana and Nico are right where he left them, and as soon as he gets close, Nico sits up and levels him with an expectant look.

"Are they gonna shitcan him? You know the LAFD will shitcan anyone no matter what the circumstances are," he says gravely.

Primly, Dana touches the points of each of her nails to the pad of her thumb. "Nico, if you didn't get shitcanned for tricking Chief Bailey into shrooming at the Backdraft Ball last year, I think Buckley's in the clear."

"That was a complete misunderstanding," Nico swears for the thousandth time.

Dana gives him a slow blink. "It was not. You pulled a jar of mushrooms out of your jacket and said, 'I'm gonna send Chief Bailey to Jupiter.' I have no idea why you're not in jail."

Smug as anything, Nico preens a little. "Chief B was going through some stuff and we went on a very good trip together."

Tommy and Dana share a dubious glance, because that could mean anything from impromptu therapy to having sex in the bathroom where the two of them were found. And Tommy's not one to judge anyone's sexual proclivities, but Chief Bailey is in his early eighties and has very well-documented hip problems.

"How's the human terrier doing? Did he dig anyone else up?" Dana asks. Her expression gives nothing away, but he knows she's laughing at him deep down in whatever black hole her body uses to siphon off emotion.

"Har har," Tommy deadpans, then pauses. "I actually don't know the answer to that. I'm really hoping it's just the one corpse. He did manage to dislocate his arm, though."

"I bet they're gonna shitcan him," Nico says.

"I bet Donato's gonna kill you in cold blood for eating her tangerine when she gets back," Tommy says brightly.

"Probably. I couldn't help it. Stolen food tastes better; it's a law of nature." Nico makes a thoughtful sound and gets to his feet, stretching languidly. "Since I'm already marked for death, I might as well eat her potato salad while I'm at it."

He and Dana watch him amble away in search of Lucy's motive, and Dana asks, genuinely curious, "You ever wonder if the LAFD will go against the grain and hire someone normal?"

"Only every day of my life," Tommy admits. "Speaking of which, did your friend have anything else to say about Evan's, uh, taste in Halloween decorations?"

She shakes her head. "It's with the police now. You off to see your grave robber?"

Huffing a laugh, he lightly kicks her foot. He doesn't know what it says about him that hearing Evan be referred to as a felon fills him with such fondness, but he decides to shove it out of sight until he can study it in greater detail when he's alone.

"My shift ends in a couple of hours. He can keep himself out of trouble until then." Tommy thinks about it for a second and amends, "Probably."

Two hours should be plenty of time to finish fighting with the safety wires, shower real quick, and then break a handful of traffic laws on his way to First Presbyterian. He can only hope Evan doesn't dislocate his other arm or lock himself in the morgue in the meantime.

"Hey." Dana kicks his foot and he lifts his gaze to hers. She stares at him for a moment and, terrifyingly, her mouth quirks again. "Happiness looks good on you, Kinard."

He ducks his head, smiling helplessly. "It's early days, D."

"So what? Doesn't mean you can't be happy about it." Dana shrugs. "I'm thrilled, frankly. Now we've got someone on the inside who can give us firsthand intel about what the fuck goes on over there."

"I'm not a spy," Tommy says flatly.

Dana nods. "True. But it won't be long before you're an accomplice."

Like it's a foregone conclusion that he's going to throw in with Evan and Evan's family. The hurricane could be written off as an outlier, but Tommy knows the second they come to him again for help—the very instant Evan asks—it's going to be an immediate yes.

"If it comes to that, will you bail me out?" he asks, half-jokingly. He won't do her the disrespect of trying to deny it. She's always had his number.

"Nah." Dana gets to her feet and reaches up to pat him on the arm. "I'll let Donato do the honors."

He'd rather stay in jail.

#bucktommy #911 8x05 #interstitial fic #yes i'm bringing back my harbor ocs for this #one more unserious story before the episode drops!#rc's 911 fics

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mssalo · 2 months ago

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safety - Part: I

Summary: After years of isolation, Joel Miller's life revolves around control and keeping danger at bay, his past as a soldier leaving him constantly on edge. But when a sweet, soft-spoken young woman starts working at the supply store, her innocence stirs something inside him. Despite his efforts to remain detached, Joel becomes obsessed with keeping her safe from the dangers he’s certain are lurking everywhere.

As his protective instincts morph into darker desires, the lines between safeguarding her and possessing her begin to blur.

Warnings will vary by chapter depending on the content.

Warnings: Dark!Joel, 18+ MDNI, Obsession themes, Stalking, Joel has major Trauma/PTSD, Mentions of military past, Manipulation, Power dynamics, Joel needs a hug and therapy. As per usual.

Enjoy!

Part II Part III Part IV Part V

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

Joel Miller wasn’t the type of man who sought peace or ease.

He’d spent too many years living a different kind of life-one built around routines of survival, discipline, and a level of alertness that never quite faded.

Now, back in Texas, he carried that constant vigilance like a second skin.

He’d settled in a small, secluded home just outside of Austin.

The area was quiet, isolated, the kind of place where nobody asked too many questions.

The locals respected boundaries, and Joel had made his clear. He kept to himself, lived a simple life, and preferred things that way.

People complicated things—something he wasn’t interested in anymore.

Most of his days followed a routine that he clung to with the same intensity he had in the service.

Early mornings were spent with coffee and silence, the smell of pine trees drifting through the windows of his old, weathered cabin.

Afterward, he'd take to the woods, either hunting or just walking trails he knew as well as the lines in his hands.

Out there, he could let his mind focus on something tangible—the tracks of a deer, the feel of the rifle in his hand.

There, his senses sharpened again, always on alert.

Joel’s awareness never dulled, not even after all these years.

Every noise, every shift in the wind or crunch of leaves beneath his boots, kept him on edge.

He was always scanning his surroundings, ready to react.

He knew it wasn’t just about the hunt.

It was the way his brain had been wired, after all the years of needing to be ready—whether it was for survival or something worse.

It wasn’t paranoia, just the reality of a mind that had been trained for danger. He told himself.

He didn't see many people. He didn’t want to.

But the thing about always being on edge was that it left little room for rest.

At night, the memories clawed their way in—images he’d rather forget but couldn’t.

Sleep was shallow and rare.

Even when he managed to drift off, he was often jolted awake by some phantom noise or sensation.

And once he was up, it was hard to shake the feeling that something or someone was out there.

He’d get up, check the locks, sometimes even patrol the perimeter of his land just to make sure.

In the quiet of his cabin, with only the crackling of a fire or the hum of the wind for company,

Joel would pour himself a drink.

Whiskey, usually. Something to dull the noise in his head, to take the edge off the constant tension that never quite left him.

But he never drank too much. He couldn’t afford to. He needed to stay sharp, always ready—just in case.

His life wasn’t complicated, and he liked it that way. He didn’t need company or connection, not anymore.

He kept things simple: survival, routine, and the solitude of the Texas wilderness.

It asked nothing of him, and in return, he didn’t have to share the parts of himself he’d buried long ago.

· · ─────

Waking up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat had become part of his routine, and after tossing and turning for hours, Joel would get up, make coffee, and try to focus on the small tasks that anchored him.

The sun was just beginning to rise as Joel Miller pushed the key into the ignition of his truck, the familiar rumble beneath him a small comfort in an otherwise uneasy world.

He had always been an early riser, but lately, the habit had turned into more of a necessity.

Driving out into the quiet Texas morning was one of those tasks.

The roads were mostly empty, and Joel preferred it that way—less to watch for, less noise, fewer things to trust.

He liked things simple.

Routine. Predictable.

After everything, it was easier to stick to what he knew, to keep the world at arm's length.

It was safer.

His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white as his eyes flicked from side to side, scanning the road ahead and the landscape around him.

There was no telling who or what could be out there, even in a sleepy Texas town.

He wasn’t stupid enough to let his guard down, not after everything he'd seen.

Trust was a currency he couldn’t afford to spend, not anymore.

He kept the radio off, preferring the silence. It gave him space to think, to process.

Most of the time, though, it just made him more aware of the quietness around him.

Every little creak or snap of a twig was magnified, every shadow cast by the rising sun something to take note of.

He didn't trust the peaceful exterior of the world anymore.

Too much could change in an instant.

It was exhausting, always being on edge like that, but Joel had learned to live with it.

He couldn’t imagine doing things any other way.

As he drove further down the road toward the camping&outdoor supply store, he caught a glimpse of something moving in the distance—a flicker of motion between the trees.

His heart quickened, and his foot instinctively lifted off the gas pedal.

He slowed down just enough to check the rearview mirror, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the tree line.

Nothing. It could’ve been an animal, but Joel’s mind didn’t let him settle on that.

Even when he convinced himself it was probably just wildlife, he remained alert, tension rippling through his muscles.

"Could be anything," he muttered under his breath, gripping the wheel tighter. "Ain't takin' chances."

The camping store was a bit of a drive, but Joel didn’t mind.

The solitude of the open road helped him clear his head, as much as his thoughts would let him, anyway.

Hunting was something he could still rely on.

He didn't need anyone else for it, and it gave him an excuse to get away from people.

He wasn’t much for conversation these days, always keeping interactions short and transactional.

He liked the supply store too; the guy who ran it knew not to ask too many questions, just handled the sale and let Joel be.

It suited him fine.

As the store came into view, Joel exhaled, his mind already running through what he needed to pick up.

The truck tires crunched against the gravel as he pulled into the lot, parking in a spot that allowed him a clear view of the entrance and the surrounding area.

Old habits.

Joel turned off the ignition and leaned back in the seat, taking a moment to observe the store.

His hand absentmindedly reached toward the glove compartment, where his gun was stashed, just in case. He didn’t need it often, but knowing it was there kept him grounded.

After a few seconds of scanning the area and feeling satisfied that nothing was amiss, he stepped out of the truck.

The supply store wasn’t busy, just a couple of people browsing inside.

As Joel stepped into the store, the familiar scent of leather and canvas greeted him. Country music hummed low in the background, and the quiet atmosphere brought him a sense of calm.

The simplicity of the place was something he appreciated—straightforward, nothing complicated.

Just the way he liked it.

His boots thudded softly on the wooden floor as he made his way toward the back, scanning the shelves for the hunting gear he needed. It was his routine, one he kept to himself.

The sudden crash jolted him like a gunshot.

Joel’s instincts took over, his body reacting before his mind caught up.

His hand flew to his side, fingers brushing the handle of the knife he always kept on him. His eyes darted around the store, scanning for threats, muscles coiled tight and ready.

He felt that old familiar rush of adrenaline—the kind that came from years of having to be on guard every second.

His heart pounded, the edges of his vision sharpening as he prepared for the worst.

But then, he saw her.

Just a girl. Bending over, trying to gather the gear she’d knocked to the floor. No threat. No danger. Just her.

Joel exhaled slowly, the tension easing out of his shoulders as the world settled back into place.

He let go of the knife, though his pulse still hammered in his ears. He hadn’t been expecting someone like her to trigger that reaction. Not here. Not now.

But for some reason, he couldn’t look away.

She was clumsy, but calm—no panic, no rush to fix what she’d done.

It was as if she was used to things slipping from her hands, not bothered in the slightest. That softness, that ease, it drew him in like nothing else had in a long time.

And even though the tension from the noise had faded, he found himself still rooted to the spot, watching her.

His eyes trailed over her, catching the way her long, soft looking, hair tumbled down her back, how her tender fingers fumbled with the items before her.

She was a mess of soft edges, and he hadn’t seen anything that soft in years.

He’s not used to that.

His world had become hard, sharp, filled with things that made sense, with people who didn’t get too close.

People like him, always on edge, always prepared.

She stood up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and for the first time, Joel saw her face.

Young. Too young. Early twenties, maybe.

Her cheeks were flushed a soft pink, her lips parted in what looked like mild embarrassment as she glanced around at the mess she had made.

But it was her eyes that hit him the hardest.

Doe eyed, wide, bright, completely unguarded.

So easy to read.

She looked right at him, her gaze catching his, and Joel’s breath hitched in his chest.

What was this girl doing? Looking at him like that?

She wasn’t supposed to look at him that way—not with that kind of openness, that kind of… trust.

Her blush deepened as her gaze flickered to the ground, but not before Joel saw it creep up her neck, warming her face.

She was blushing because of him.

When was the last time that happened?

“Oh! Sorry,” she said, her voice light, soft, but not the irritating kind of soft.

It was smooth in a way that made something settle in Joel’s chest. Normally, he hated small talk.

People’s voices grated on him. But hers didn’t.

Her voice wrapped around him, warm and gentle, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, Joel didn’t hate it.

“I didn’t see you there,” she continued, letting out a nervous laugh, her hands brushing against the fallen gear.

“I swear, I’m always knocking things over.” She smiled shyly, that blush still clinging to her cheeks, and Joel’s chest tightened again.

She was yapping—just rambling on in a way that would’ve made him turn his back on anyone else. But he couldn’t move.

He was locked in place, listening to her soft, musical voice as if it was something he hadn’t heard in years.

Maybe because it was. Maybe because no one ever talked to him like this anymore.

Most people avoided him.

They saw the hard set of his jaw, the cold glint in his eyes, and they stayed far, far away.

And that was just how he liked it. Less mess, less trouble.

But not her. She was still standing there, babbling about how clumsy she was, her voice a soft hum in his ears.

Joel felt something shift inside him, something he wasn’t sure he liked. He didn’t know her.

Shouldn’t care about her babbling, or the way her scent—something fresh and sweet—drifted toward him, making his head swim.

But here he was, standing there, drinking in her voice, her scent, like he hadn’t been around anyone like her in years.

Which, to be fair, he hadn’t.

Joel cleared his throat, forcing himself to speak, though his voice came out rougher than he’d intended. “Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he muttered, his words gruff, but his feet still rooted to the spot.

Her smile widened, and her eyes lit up.

The warmth in them caught him off guard. He wasn’t prepared for that.

“Thanks for not laughing at me,” she said with a small, bashful laugh, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her jacket. “Most people would’ve.”

Joel’s brow furrowed. “Why would I laugh?”

She shrugged, glancing at the gear still scattered on the floor. “I’m kind of a mess.”

Her words didn’t sit right with him. How could someone like her—someone so soft, so full of light—call herself a mess? He is a mess.

But before he could respond, she smiled again, her lips curving up in that sweet way that made his chest tighten all over again.

And that scent… God, he couldn’t place it, but it clung to her, swirling around him like a warm blanket.

His mind raced, cataloging every little detail about her.

Her soft pretty eyes. The way her smile made the corners of her eyes crinkle just a little. The way she smelled, like fresh air and something sweet. Vanilla?

He was reading her, studying her like he used to study his surroundings, picking up on every detail.

But none of it made sense. She didn’t make sense.

Normally, he’d be long gone by now. His thoughts already moving on.

But she was still talking, still smiling up at him, and instead of walking away, he just… stared.

She cleared her throat again, glancing down at her hands before looking back up at him.

“Do you work around here?” she asked, her voice a little softer now, a little shyer.

Joel blinked, realizing he hadn’t said a damn thing in what felt like minutes.

He shook his head. “Nah, just pickin’ up some things.” His voice sounded foreign to him—rough, cold, not at all the kind of tone that matched the warmth she was giving him.

But she didn’t seem bothered by it. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her lips curving up in that smile again.

“Oh, cool. What are you picking up?”

Joel stared at her, unsure of why she was still talking to him, still smiling at him.

But he found himself answering her anyway. “Just some gear. Hunting stuff.”

Her eyes brightened, her smile widening even more. “Oh, hunting! That’s cool. I’ve never been, but I always thought it seemed kind of… peaceful, you know? Just you and nature.”

Peaceful? Joel had never thought of hunting as peaceful. Necessary, sure. But peaceful? Not in the way she was describing.

He grunted, not sure how to respond, but she just kept smiling, her voice still light, still soft.

“Oh, gosh,” she said, standing up with a bundle of fallen gear in her hands, a sheepish smile on her face. “I could never hurt an animal, though. I don’t know how people do it. Like, I get hunting and all, but... me? No way. I’d be useless out there.”

Joel’s brow furrowed, still caught between the sharp edge of his earlier reaction and the softness of her voice.

“Right,” he muttered, nodding slightly, feeling more awkward than he had in years.

“Well,” Joel grunted, his voice a little rougher than intended, “it ain’t about enjoyin’ it. It’s necessary. You do what you gotta do.”

And for the life of him, Joel couldn’t understand why he didn’t just walk away.

He should’ve. He should’ve grabbed what he needed and left.

But something about her—her scent, her smile, her softness—kept him rooted in place.

He wasn’t good at this. Talking. Interacting. Especially not with someone like her—someone who looked at him like he wasn’t something to be avoided.

But she was smiling at him, her eyes wide and innocent, like she wasn’t aware of how the world really worked.

Before he could say anything else, he saw her blush deepen, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her jacket.

She was nervous, but not in the way people usually got around him.

She wasn’t scared. She wasn’t backing away.

She was blushing because of him.

Hm?

As the awkward silence stretched between them, Joel cleared his throat, the sound rough and abrupt.

He hadn’t realized how long he’d been standing there, just staring at her while she kept talking, her soft voice filling the space between them.

He needed to go.

This whole interaction had lasted far too long, longer than he was comfortable with.

His chest tightened with a mix of confusion and frustration, and he could feel the tension creeping into his limbs, urging him to move, to walk away.

She was still smiling at him, her eyes bright, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside him.

“Right,” Joel muttered, his voice gruffer than he intended.

“I should… get goin’.” He nodded awkwardly toward the hunting gear in his hand, using it as an excuse to leave.

Her smile faltered for just a second, her eyes flickering with a hint of confusion.

“Oh, sure! No problem,” she said quickly, her voice still sweet, but there was something softer in it now, like she wasn’t quite sure what she’d done wrong.

Joel could feel her eyes on him as he turned away, the tension in his shoulders growing with every step he took.

He forced himself to keep walking, not allowing himself to glance back, not letting himself think about the way her scent still lingered in the air around him.

As he pushed open the door of the shop, the cool air hit his face, a stark contrast to the warmth that had been building inside him.

He needed to get out of there. Now.

“Have a good day!” she called after him, her voice still light, still warm.

Joel didn’t respond.

He just kept walking, his boots heavy against the gravel as he made his way to his truck, his mind already trying to shove the whole interaction into the back of his mind.

It shouldn’t have affected him like that.

Joel climbed into his truck, the door creaking as it shut with a heavy thud.

The sun was setting, casting a golden light over the horizon, but his mind was somewhere else entirely.

His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white as he sat there, staring straight ahead.

He let out a slow breath, trying to shake off the strange feeling that had settled deep in his chest.

That girl—he couldn’t get her out of his head. It didn’t make sense.

Her smile. The way her cheeks flushed when she looked at him.

The softness in her voice, the way she smelled—fresh, sweet, and somehow... so pure.

His brow furrowed as the memory tugged at him, gnawing at the edges of his mind like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

He hadn’t felt like this in years—hadn’t felt much of anything, to be honest.

And yet, there it was. Something stirring inside him, something he couldn’t ignore.

With a grunt, he turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life.

He needed to get his mind straight, back to reality, back to the things that actually mattered.

Surviving.

Not some girl in a supply shop.

It couldn’t be because of her.

But as he shifted the truck into gear, his grip on the wheel tightened even more.

He couldn’t deny the physical reaction in his body—the tension building low in his gut, the heat rising through his chest.

Joel shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his breath catching for a moment.

He hadn’t even noticed it before, hadn’t allowed himself to.

But now, as he adjusted himself, the realization hit him with a force that nearly knocked the breath out of his lungs.

He was hard.

His heart pounded in his chest, the weight of it settling low in his gut.

How long had it been?

He couldn’t even remember the last time he felt like this, the last time his body reacted this way.

But it couldn’t be because of the girl in the shop, right?

“Jesus.” He clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck tightening as he fought the urge to dwell on it. “There was no way.”

She was just a kid. I mean, a woman sure. But so young, soft, innocent.

Completely the opposite of everything he was—everything he’d become.

Joel’s grip on the steering wheel tightened even further, his mind racing.

This was wrong. He shouldn’t be thinking about her like this, shouldn’t be feeling this way.

But the more he tried to push it down, the more it rose to the surface.

Her voice, the way she’d blushed when she looked at him, the scent of her clinging to the air around her like a warmth he hadn’t known he needed.

Joel shifted again, trying to shake the thoughts from his head. He’d drive home, clear his mind, and forget about it.

Forget about her.

But as he drove down the empty road, the tension in his body only seemed to build. It had been years. Years since anyone, or anything, had made him feel like this.

And the truth gnawed at him, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

It was because of her.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

moodboard:

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

New series incoming!! Thank you for the nice comments, they make me the most motivated to keep writing. :)

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wiringsolutions · 4 months ago

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Switching to Safety: Upgrade from Aluminum to Copper Wiring Today

Electric wiring is a critical component of any building's infrastructure, providing the necessary power for appliances, lighting, and various systems. Over the years, the materials used for wiring have evolved significantly, with aluminum and copper being the most prominent. This article explores the history of aluminum and copper wiring, the risks associated with aluminum wiring, and the benefits of upgrading to modern copper wiring.

History of Aluminium and Copper Wiring

Copper has been used for electrical wiring since the late 19th century due to its excellent conductivity, flexibility, and durability. Early electrical systems relied heavily on copper, making it the standard choice for residential and commercial wiring. Copper's ability to conduct electricity efficiently and its resistance to corrosion made it the preferred material for many years.

During the 1960s and 1970s, a surge in the demand for housing and the rising cost of copper led to the adoption of aluminium wiring as an alternative. Aluminium was cheaper and more readily available, making it an attractive option for builders. However, it soon became apparent that aluminium wiring had several drawbacks that posed significant risks.

Risks of Aluminium Wiring

Oxidation and Corrosion

Aluminium is more prone to oxidation and corrosion than copper. When aluminium wiring oxidizes, it forms a layer of aluminium oxide, which can impede the flow of electricity and create hotspots, leading to potential fire hazards.

Thermal Expansion and Contraction

Aluminium expands and contracts more than copper when subjected to temperature changes. This can cause the wiring to loosen at connections, leading to overheating, arcing, and increased risk of electrical fires.

Incompatibility with Devices and Connectors

Many electrical devices and connectors are designed for use with copper wiring. Using aluminium wiring with these devices can lead to poor connections, increased resistance, and potential overheating.

Increased Maintenance

Aluminium wiring requires regular inspection and maintenance to ensure that connections remain secure. This ongoing need for attention can be both costly and time-consuming for homeowners.

Benefits of Upgrading to Modern Copper Wiring

Superior Conductivity

Copper is a better conductor of electricity than aluminium, ensuring efficient power delivery and reducing energy loss. This makes copper wiring more reliable for modern electrical demands.

Durability and Longevity

Copper wiring is highly durable and resistant to corrosion. It has a longer lifespan than aluminium wiring, providing a safer and more stable electrical system for your home or business.

Thermal Stability

Copper has a lower coefficient of thermal expansion compared to aluminium. This means that copper wiring is less likely to loosen at connections, reducing the risk of overheating and electrical fires.

Compatibility

Copper wiring is widely accepted and compatible with a vast array of electrical devices and connectors. This ensures that your electrical system meets current standards and codes, providing greater safety and reliability.

Low Maintenance

Once installed, copper wiring requires minimal maintenance compared to aluminium wiring. This reduces the long-term costs and effort associated with maintaining a safe electrical system.

Increased Property Value

Upgrading to copper wiring can enhance the value of your property. Potential buyers and insurers view copper wiring as a safer and more reliable choice, making your home more attractive in the market.

The decision to upgrade from aluminium to modern copper wiring is not just about following trends; it's a matter of safety, efficiency, and long-term reliability. While aluminium wiring once seemed like a cost-effective alternative, its inherent risks make it a less desirable option today. Copper wiring offers numerous benefits, from superior conductivity and durability to thermal stability and compatibility with modern devices. By investing in copper wiring, you ensure a safer, more efficient, and more valuable electrical system for your home or business.

If you want to inspect your wiring, call the professional team from Baltimore Wiring Solutions we can provide our assessments and discuss what will be best solution for you.

#fire alarm #electrical safety #wire #electrical wire #copper wire

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vmsplusblog · 4 months ago

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#Wired Glass #What is wired glass? wired safety glass #wire mesh glass #Georgian wired glass #Benefits of wired glass #Disadvantages of wired glass #where is wired glass used? fire protective glass #mesh glass shutter #mesh rolling shutter #Security Glass with Wire Mesh #VMS Plus

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seat-safety-switch · 1 year ago

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Yeah, I worked on The Machine. And, as I pried open its secret compartments and loosened its wiring harness and decrypted its memories, it worked on me also. Deep within its many hidden copses lay immense knowledge, unknown to all but those who formed it. Who built The Machine? No one knows. Everyone knows. I know. Now that The Machine works again, the person who last built it was me.

For years, I was a humble regular home-gamer mechanic. Something around the house would break. For the sake of argument, we'll use as an example the time my microwave blew up when I opened the door. One morning, it just went pop and never worked again. Well, at least until I fixed it. It turns out that the door had a little microswitch inside, and that microswitch got gummy with aerosolized food goo. Because it was gummed up, it wouldn't switch the computer off in time when I opened the door. That would be dangerous: I could get a full face shot of microwaves from the still-running magnetron. A safety interlock fired, and blew the brains out of the big fuse controlling the magnetron. It died for me. Replacing the switch, and the fuse, brought that microwave back to life. I did many such repairs. I was not prepared for this repair.

Fix after fix, I built up my confidence, and I got cockier. I'd pull broken machines out of the trash, mysterious foreign computers from another country. Some things escaped my grasp, and slipped further into oblivion. Most, though: most, I pulled back from the brink, and forced them to live again. That's when I found The Machine.

It was beautiful, intricate: thousands of parts, wedged together tighter than I had ever seen before, and a cryptic fault at the centre of it. When you cram together this much stuff, the complexity doesn't just add: it multiplies. To aid me, I looked for a guide, a factory service manual. The manufacturer laughed. The manufacturer's representative laughed. Someone who made it, who I tracked down on LinkedIn, hung up on me and refused to answer his door when I visited. Weeks later, he was gone, "dead" in a suspiciously convenient accident, a body left behind at the edge of his bleach-washed property with no identifying marks or fingerprints. I got the message: I was on my own.

This little wire just came unplugged. I guess someone must have dropped it. All better now.

#best of

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munsonsreputation · 11 days ago

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the tiger

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [5.4K]

warnings: warnings: semi proof-read, no use of y/n, established relationship, reader has *secret survival skills,* k!lling the guards who are attacking stevie + friends, fire, mentions of blood and death (don't worry it ends with fluff <3), (partly inspired by 'dot' in fargo s5)

Summary: Thrusted into the unknown of the Upside Down and otherworldly creatures that came with it, you finally had a reason to let the tiger out of its cage and to everyone’s surprise they never thought you had it in you to save their lives and the world.

“You have five fucking seconds to tell me where they’re coming from!”

Your voice clamored vociferously, standing above one of the obviously now dead guards that had been tracking your boyfriend and his friends around Star Court for god knows how long.

Had Steve not left the stupid walkie talkie on, you wouldn’t have heard the beseeching cries and shouts that had rung through the device while you were sitting at home having a day to yourself as you waited for him to clock out of work.

The second you heard the code red, your fight or flight activated, hopping onto the channel as you tried to get filled in on what was happening. Perhaps a robbery or even a lockdown, but what you didn’t expect was to hear your boyfriend tell you that there was a secret Russian Base under Star Court and the girl he babysat was now their prime target.

They were coming for the ones you loved and you’d be damned if they even laid a finger on any of them, let alone the love of your life.

You were a woman of many skills: you knew how to cook up a good roast dinner, could play a few songs on the piano if you tried hard enough, and you even knew how to hot wire a car in case of emergencies.

But you were also a woman with many tricks up her sleeves: guns hidden in the floorboards, a deadly mean quick hand, and most of all a tiger that had been kept in its cage for too long and now the perfect time to set her free.

Steve’s mouth was held agape, staring up at you shellshocked and confused, as did everyone else. The last thing they expect was for you to throw yourself into danger with them, and most of all to see you with a gun in your hands ready to go to war—a war where one enemy's life was already taken.

“W—what….baby, what, I, h-how?” He stammered weakly, pulling himself to sit against the wall, limbs still aching after all the torment he endured.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think it was the drugs still in his system, making him see things. But sure enough, this was real life, and you just killed a man right before his eyes.

“Y-you just killed him.” He swallowed thickly, watching the floor pool with blood, which got progressively bigger, prompting everyone to scoot away.

You wrung your neck, lowering the gun to your side, nudging the corpse with your foot just to be sure he was really gone.

“He tried to kill you all first.” You defended, shaking your head at the scene, still in disbelief that this was the circumstances.

Time wasn’t on your side and clearly neither was the slim hallway they were hiding in. Despite everyone’s consternation, you knew it wasn’t the right time to explain any of this on your behalf. Every second counted, and you needed to get moving before the enemies zeroed in.

You stepped over to Steve, stooping down to his level, your eyes locked with his softly. Sympathy leaking from them knowing he went through hell, but your voice was a grim contrast that was needed for the moment.

“Look, you need to tell me where they’re coming from so I can help. I can’t get us to safety if I don’t know where they’re coming from. Tell me, Steve… now.”

You thumbed his chin mildly ordering him to focus on you and not the dead body on the ground.

His jaw trembling in your touch, eyes moving from side to side checking the halls.

“T—the back exits. We tried to get out but then we had to backtrack because that guy found us.” He gulped, hurtling his eyes to the body.

You took a deep breath, dragging his face back to you to begin surveying his injuries. His lip was busted open, dried blood coating the skin around his mouth and making a trail all the way down to his neck. The skin around his eye was swollen, a pale yellow settling against his tan skin that would surely turn all sorts of blue and purples.

“They did a number on you, huh?” You whispered, glancing down at his knuckles where fresh blood clung to the skin. He obviously put up a good fight before you arrived.

“But he finally won a fight! He knocked one of the guards out!” Dustin expressed, somehow still a little jubilant despite the mere fact that their lives were on the line.

You huffed out a weak laugh, dropping your hand from his face and turning to survey everyone else. Robin looked to sustain the same injuries as Steve yet a little less severe. Unlike Steve, she was still high on whatever drugs they had given her. You could tell by her dilated pupils alone.

For the most part, all the kids seemed to be in good shape physically. They showed no signs of injury, just sweat dripping down their foreheads and chests that were breathing heavily still disturbed up by the chaos.

But it was El whose pant leg was saturated with blood that instantly had you concerned. She sat with her back against the wall, weakly resting her head on Max’s shoulder while Mike clasped her hand. She looked about ready to drop, weak and drained of all her might.

“What happened to your leg?” You jutted your chin out, inching over to her and silently asking for permission, which she granted, and you swiftly tugged on the cuff of her jeans.

Lucas scratched his neck, face twisting when you exposed the gory laceration.

“A Demogorgon kinda attached itself to her and when we tried to get it off, it took some skin with it.”

“A demo what?” You asked bewildered, looking around at everyone for some sort of explanation that they clearly couldn’t give you right now.

“It’s basically the big evil creature that’s out to get El.” Will clarified, saving you from the technicalities of it all.

“But there’s also Demodogs and the Mind Flayer, which is out to get us…or actually, specifically El, right now,” Dustin reminded, as if you would know what any of that meant.

“I have so many questions,” you mumbled, eyes closing, trying to fathom the absurdity before opening them wide and taking a deep breath.

“But right now, I need to dress this wound before she bleeds out.”

Everyone agreed, moving close to get a good look but enough to give El space to breathe. You looked around, wondering who would best to stay on lookout while you were busy. Steve was obviously still rattled, and you were positive Robin nor Jonathan would be good with a gun, so you decided on Nancy.

She surprisingly knew a lot about guns, a suspicious amount to make you think she knew exactly how to use one.

“Can you use this?” You looked over at her, holding the weapon up as she nodded with confidence, holding her hand out for it.

“Watch both ways and if you see anyone, shoot until you’re sure they are dead.” You advised, handing it off to her before you crawled towards the dead guard.

They kept their eyes on you, observing you work the belt through the pant loops and take the pen from his shirt pocket, scurrying back to El. Contorting the belt into a loop around her leg, you fastened it tightly, apologizing under your breath when she whimpered, trying to keep her cries muted.

You tucked the excess leather around, taking a deep breath when you looked up at her after wedging the pen between the material and her skin. This part was always the worst, but it was for the greater good of her health.

“It’s gonna hurt, but I need to do this to make sure you don’t bleed out anymore than you already did, alright?”

She nodded, readying herself against the wall, closing her eyes tightly, reaching for Max’s hand and gripping it tightly You gave her a quiet countdown before beginning to twist. They all hushed her cries all while you didn’t stop until it was sheath-like, knowing it was the only way for the blood to clot and temporarily seal the wound.

“All done.” You patted her calf, dusting your hands and standing up.

With how much time you all had already wasted, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the guards found you in the only place they hadn’t searched. You had to think quick, walking over to the corpse and working the sling of the gun off his torso and draping it over yourself before you searched the rest of his pockets.

“Jonathan, here.” You shook a taser in the air, tossing it to him.

“Robin, this is for you.” A mace spray was put into her hands and the long distance aspect was going to be great.

“And baby, this is all yours.” You reached into your own back pocket where another gun was hidden, holding it out for him as he took it, inspecting the weapon and looking up at you surprised.

“Where did you even get this?” He gawked perplexed, somehow searching for answers instead of focusing on making it out alive to ask said questions when your lives weren’t on the line.

“It’s a long story, but I’ll catch you up when we make it out here, yeah?”

“What about us?” Dustin declared, arms held out wide wanting to get a super duper cool weapon like everyone else.

You reached around your waist, slipping off the walkie and tossing it at him. “Get on the emergency channel and give them our location and say there’s been a fire at Star Court and that we’re locked in.”

“A fire? Wouldn’t it be easier to just radio for Hop?” Max suggested, but you shook your head with a heavy sigh, giving everyone the unfortunate news that the easy way out wasn’t a possibility anymore.

“I called the station before I got here and Hop is nowhere to be found. The rest of the staff thought I was having a psychotic breakdown. I doubt they’re gonna believe Russians and some enormous creature are trying to take over Hawkins.”

Hope began to fade from their faces, but you knew you could get everyone out despite the odds—they just had to trust you.

“Look, I’m gonna lead and make sure it’s clear. When I say clear, I want you to run straight as fast as you can and when I say duck, you get down where you are and you do not move. Understood?”

They all nodded, beginning to move themselves off the ground, ready for your command. You led the pack, crouching low to hide behind walls peeking around the corner ensuring it was clear to which it was.

“Clear,” you whisper shouted, stepping out of the way and ushering all of them to keep moving, shuffling against the floors and doing their best to keep their movements fluid and quick.

“Duck,” you shouted a little louder, successfully making it to the main floor of the food court.

“I can hear them,” Erica muttered, eyes darting up, signaling that they were close by, and continuing to move would blow your cover.

“Give me something.” You mouthed, holding your palm out towards Lucas who speedily reached into his back pocked providing you with a slingshot and a small pebble.

“What are you doing?” Steve whispered.

“Causing a distraction and getting us back in the clear.” You murmured, attempting to get your aim just perfect.

Pulling the rubber band back, you held the rock securely, steering it towards the second floor, hoping it would reach far enough, only having one take. Before you could second guess yourself, you let it rip, watching the rock soar through the air, just barely making it over the railing and clanging against the metal, causing the shouts of the guards to echo in the empty mall.

With them distracted in the opposite direction, you gestured to everyone to stick close, needing to get as far away as possible.

“C’mon, follow me,” you whispered, crouching as you crawled toward the food court.

Steve followed closely behind you, gun cocked and ready to fire if there was a sudden attack, but his mind was clearly still trying to process everything in front of him.

“I can’t believe this is happening. Are you like a spy or something?” Steve hissed from behind you, causing you to turn your head over your shoulder, glaring at his outrageous question.

“No, I’m not a spy Steven.” You jeered, shaking your head before diverting your attention back in front of you to lead the pack.

“Then—then how do you know all about this stuff?” He argued still trying to keep his voice low despite the gnawing fear and uncertainty lingering in his mind.

You two had been together for quite sometime, and Steve figured he would have at least an inkling of knowledge that his girlfriend had the survival skills of a trained professional, let alone having the ability to kill someone cold blooded.

“I told you I was a girl scout when I was younger.” You retorted.

“Girl scouts sell cookies! They don’t know how to work guns or survive through a world takeover.” He remarked unbelievably.

Lucas who lurked too closely behind his beloved babysitter, nudged at his neck, eyes going wide as he spoke in defense of you.

“Are you really questioning her skills right now? She just killed that guard and saved our lives.” He argued, narrowing his eyes at Steve wondering how he could think this was the right moment to debate you.

Steve swallowed, shaking his head and catching up to you. “I’m sorry okay! I’m just confused and lost and—”

“Duck!” you shouted, pulling Steve's arm and throwing yourself onto the ground as gunfire started, screams and shouts ringing out as you covered your head and tried to shield yourself from any stray bullets.

“Oh, my god! We’re gonna die! We’re so gonna die!” Robin shouted, holding her hands over her ears, pinching her eyes shut tight, as if her last moments on Earth would take place any second.

“Robin shut up! You’re not helping!” Max scolded, clamping her hand over her mouth to keep her quiet as the gunshots slowly quieted and their voices faded.

“Stay here!” You demanded quietly, gesturing at all of them to stay low and close.

Listening in, the guards diverted towards the opposite direction, giving you all a moment to breathe and recoup for a few seconds.

Dustin looked over at El, quickly spitting out top secret information. “El can help, she has powers!”

At that point, you didn’t know what was real life and fantasy anymore. The lines were blurred and no matter how much you wanted to wake up and believe it was all just a surreal dream you knew their lives and yours were at stake for you to waste any time questioning the boy.

You sucked in a deep breath, eyeing the girl who sat weak and defeated, eyes communicating the want to help, but she physically couldn’t.

“She has a messed up leg. I doubt we want to put her in more danger by letting her use her… powers.” You reasoned with a sigh, passing her an understanding look. Everyone hopelessly agreed.

There was no time to waste and the best bet you had at escaping was eliminating as many of the enemies as you could. Tugging at the strap of the gun around your body, you quickly released the magazine, checking the bullets and debating your choices.

They watched you carefully, as if you were doing mental match before you clicked the magazine back into placed and nodded to yourself.

You glanced at everyone, beginning to brief them on the plan.

“In the meantime, call for help and everybody else stay here and do not move until I say clear. Got it?” You said, watched as Dustin picked up the walkie, whisper-shouting for help as everyone else nodded.

“W-What about me?” Steve gulped, eyes twinkling with a need to know how he could help—or it could’ve been the aftereffects of the drugs making him hallucinate.

You reached out, patting his cheek fondly despite the circumstances.

“Watch my back and don’t let me die.” You responded.

“Yeah, I can do that.” He nodded promptly, holding the gun into position, a little more confidently this time knowing he couldn’t let anything happen to you.

With no more time to spare, you scrambled off your feet, leaving them behind the protection of the counter whilst you stayed hidden behind a concrete pillar.

With the mess of debris on the floor, you stomped hard on a Coca-Cola can and kicked it away. The sound of aluminum screeching across the floors and grabbing the attention of the guards who you were trying to lure onto lower ground to be on your playing field.

Your friends winced at the sound, but they didn’t let out a peep, following your directions carefully. They listened intently, picking up a few voices from the top floor muttering as their footsteps pounded against with every step, trying to figure out where the sound had come from.

“Stay down.” You mouthed to them, giving them a final warning as you took a deep breath.

If you were correct, their blocking would be in a single file row, hoping to cover as much ground as they could and spread the gunfire as opposed to clumping up. You had to be stealthy and fast—and boy, were you good at that.

“Over here, assholes!”

Firing a single shot into the air, footsteps and shouts traveled down the broken escalators, bullets and gunfire echoed through the mall as you held your breath and braced yourself.

You kept the gun parallel to your shoulder, finger steady over the trigger as you ducked down and away from the pillar, moving left to right as you fired in quick sequences, watching as their bodies dropped in tandem with each bullet that pierced through them.

Steve couldn’t see any of the damage you had done with counter acting as an obstructed view, but he could see your every move. The curl of your lip and the squinting of your eyes as you moved across the floors smoothly, as if this wasn’t your first time.

If he didn’t know any better, he would think he was falling in love again.

“Holy shit!” Dustin exclaimed, immediately standing up when the gunfire came to a halt, forgetting that he was supposed to wait for your all clear.

“Bitch!” A gruff voice spat harshly, from the floor, a wounded guard who was inching towards his gun causing everyone else to scream panicked.

“Shit!” Lucas cursed, reaching for his friend’s arm to pull him down.

“Get down, you dumbass!” Max added, tugging harshly at his leg, until he fall on top of their bodies causing groans.

“Relax!” you shouted, firing off a single bullet—your last one, as you finally stood up straight.

“Now he’s dead.” You said, letting your chest fall with a relieved breath as you made your way over to the scene, nudging the guard with your foot once more just to be sure he was decimated.

Slowly your friends creeped up from their hiding spot, mouths falling open and foreheads creasing with disbelief as the guards laid lifeless as if it wasn’t a fair fight. You were unharmed, in perfectly mint condition, gesturing your friends to come out while you made your rounds and seized the weapons from the dead.

“So this mind flayer thing that after El…” You huffed, bending down to flip over a guard and remove his rifle from his body.

“How do we kill it?” You asked, hurling the empty gun away from your body and replacing it with the new one.

Your question fell on deaf ears, as they were too caught in trying to process what the hell just happened, and the fact that you were acting so normal about it.

“Are we really skipping over the fact that there’s about a dozen dead Russian spies laying on the ground right now, that you killed?” Mike finally broke the silence, threading his hands through his hair trying not to throw up at the scene.

You glanced back at them, still rummaging through the pockets and creating a pile of weapons for them to pick through and use.

“Yes, I killed them.” You rolled your eyes, standing up straight and crossing your arms over your chest. “Now can we move on and find a way out of here, because I’d really like to avoid another gunfight.”

“Fire. It doesn’t like heat.” Nancy replied hastily, ignoring her little brother’s attitude, as she went towards the pile, picking out her own weaponry knowing you were right.

“Okay, well, does anyone have any ideas?” You diverted your eyes towards everyone else, happy that at least Nancy was at least attempting to get into the right headspace.

“Is the professional killer really asking us?” Mike retorted crudely, looking you up and down as if you were supposed to solve every problem in the world.

“Oh my god, would you just stop!” You snapped back, prompting the rest of the kids to smack their friend over the head, chiding at his indifference.

“You need to stop being a smartass. She just saved your girlfriend’s life and all of our asses, too.” Erica retorted, shaking her head as she walked off, picking up a taser from the pile, and smirking down at it.

You closed your eyes tightly, fighting off a migraine that was surely going to take full effect soon, not having the patience to prepare yourself for a deadly monster commie battle on a Friday afternoon.

“Guy’s focus, we need to find a way to kill this thing and then get out,” Jonathan interjected, snapping everyone back into reality, beginning to brainstorm.

Steve’s eyes darted towards the top level of the hall, the bright red letters catching his attention, and soon enough the idea sparked like a light bulb.

“Babe…the Supercuts.” He spoke quickly, pointing upstairs as everyone else tried to put together what he was getting at.

“What?” You furrowed your brows, waiting for him to explain.

“Hairspray, it’s flammable, and they’ve gotta have like a gazillion cans in there, right?” He laughed half-heartedly, hoping he wasn’t just being a dingus.

A smile creeped onto your face, thankful that his obsession with his hair had another purpose.

“I never thought I’d say this, but you’re a genius, Harrington.” Robin sighed out with a weak laugh, running her hands through her hair as she walked in circles, waiting for you to give them directions.

“We’ll split up. One group will go get the hairsprays and the others will go find lighters.”

You and Steve raced up the broken escalator steps, with some of the kids following behind you both. While Nancy and Jonathan went off to find the fire source.

It was like an assembly line, you and Steve picking up boxes of the hairspray and sending it along as each kid passed it down to the ground floor, wanting to reduce the amount of trips taken up and down.

Jonathan and Nancy were able to find a few lighters hidden in the jackets of the guards, though they surely were disgusted with the thought of basically robbing the dead. Even Dustin and Erica managed to rip apart some of the concession stands, lugging out the propane tanks, knowing they would help tremendously if they wanted to burn the Mind Flayer to ash.

El, despite her injury, aided in opening the boxes of hairspray. Running a pocketknife along the taped seam and pouring out the bottles for easy access. It only took a couple of minutes before you all finished up with the task of gathering the materials and other helpful stuff that was scattered across the dirty mall floor, waiting for the game plan.

“How do we lure this thing in?” You caught your breath, brushing back your hair, hoping this supposed monster wasn’t too scary to handle.

“Blood, but I don’t think using El would be smart right now. She’s low on energy and her powers might not be as strong as they were before.”

Mike looked down at his girlfriend’s leg that was still in obvious pain as she apologetically smiled at everyone desperately wishing she could help.

You reassured her with a gentle nod, sticking your hand out towards her, asking for the pocketknife that she apprehensively handed over to you, well aware of what you were going to use it for.

Holding it in your dominant hand, you held your breath, ready to slice through the palm of your opposite hand.

“What are you doing?” Steve’s eyes widened, immediately grabbing your wrist and stopping you.

You shook your head at him obliviously, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

“What does it look like? I’m going to lure him in.”

“You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think I’m going to let my girlfriend be the bait for this monster.”

“Steve, I’m going to be fin—”

“Look as much as this lovers quarrel is a bit entertaining and slightly endearing, we have very little time left and if we don’t get a head start on killing this thing, then there’s no way in hell any of us is making it out of here alive.” Dustin interrupted, tapping his foot on the ground and holding up his wristwatch.

You sighed, relaxing in Steve’s hold. Your eyes softening as he met yours doubtfully not wanting to put you in danger more than you already had. But deep inside, you and Steve both knew that the best bet of getting out alive was letting you take the lead, and you needed him to trust you.

“Let me do this, please? You’re always playing hero and fixing everything. Let me take over for once okay? I trust that you won’t let anything happen to me, so if you see me struggling, I give you full permission to step in. But please, just let me have a go first.”

You brows pulled together, attempting to get through to him despite understanding his justified resistance.

Shutting his eyes tightly, and letting out a deep breath, his fingertips loosened over your wrists before he nodded and looked at you once more.

“F-fine, okay! But the second, I don’t feel comfortable, I’m stepping in and no one better stop me.” He turned around, pointing a stern finger at everyone else who nodded without a second thought.

“Let’s get this rodeo on the road.”

The kids were instructed to move to higher ground, none of you wanting them to be harmed in the crossfire to come. They were equipped with a few bottles of hairspray, lighters, and duct tape to create their own version of a hybrid flamethrower-molotov that they would chuck down at the Mind Flayer.

Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan were behind the same Orange Julius counter that shielded them a short while ago, while Steve insisted that he stick a few feet closer to you but still hidden behind the concrete planters.

There was no time to die.

Sucking in a deep breath and holding it, you slide the knife across your palm, watching as the blood began to pool and your arm started to tremor.

“Come and get me you asshole!” You shouted, wincing while you held your arm out, attempting to lure the monster in with the smell of your blood.

It came like a rolling thunder from a distance, a loud roar crushing through your eardrums causing you to drop the knife, bending down to pick up your gun while the mall lights began to flicker and the deafening screeches came closer before the glass shattered above you.

“Fuck,” you grimaced, throwing yourself onto the ground, clutching your arms around your head, attempting to shield yourself from the falling debris.

But the glass was quickly the least of your worries with the sight of a subhuman creature stomping towards you. It looked beyond barbaric, mottled skin of some sort dripping with an icky substance as its razor blade like mouth opened and resounded something frightful in the air.

You had to kill it…or at least try.

Struggling to grip the gun tightly with your injured hand, you did what you could, firing multiple shots into the mouth of the creature, watching as it shrieked sharply and its legs jerked into the air. But despite not letting up on the trigger, the monster didn’t seem phased, still stalking its way towards you and running out of bullets you knew you didn’t have enough time to reload the magazine.

“Fire!” you shouted, throwing the gun away and crawling towards safety where Steve was holding a hand out to you.

“Come on!” Steve yelled, rushing out into the open without thinking, tightly grabbing your hands and essentially pulling you across the floors before the fire could swallow you whole.

You could feel the heat just a few feet away, the mixture of the flamethrower-molotovs combined with the gunfire being set off created an infero that popped and sizzled away at the monster with each cry resulting in a limb being weakened and dropping to the ground.

While you were too busy watching the scene in front of you, Steve was more worried about you, just nearly escaping a death trap that he would have never forgiven himself for. His back hit a stop, sliding down the wall as he wrapped his arms around your frame, shielding you from the wreckage as the monster’s cries slowly died out with the heat burning it to ash.

“We need to go!” a voice yelled from the top floor, the children racing down the escalator steps with El being carried out by Max and Mike.

“This place is going to burn down, let’s go!” Robin slid out from behind the counter towards you and Steve, tugging the both of you up, before running towards the nearest exit.

“I got you, baby. Come on.” Steve whispered, hauling your body into his arms, hurrying towards the doors where Jonathan and Nancy held it open, waving their hands and shouting for you both to hurry.

His footsteps didn’t halt against the pavements, wanting to get as far away as he possibly could, worried the Mind Flayer would somehow survive the blazes and come back for you now that you were the new target. Running across the street, they all collapsed onto the ground, eyes widening as the entire mall became engulfed in flames and sirens began ringing through the open air.

Steve managed to set you down on a patch of dying grass, hands traveling across your clothing and skin, trying to make sure you weren’t hurt.

“Are you okay? Did that thing hurt you anywhere? Talk to me, c’mon.” He pleaded, clutching your cheeks in his hands.

Your lips push out harsh breaths, eyes filling with tears as you coughed out roughly.

“I—I’m fine,” you whispered, swallowing through the dryness in your throat.

“Just a little cut…see?” You managed to crack a joke, weakly holding your bloodied hand up as you blinked and the tears flowed down your cheeks.

Steve huffed out a wobbly chuckle, shaking his head at you before kissing your lips, not minding the sting in his open wound, focused on the relief that you made it out alive. You kissed back passionately, not knowing what you’d do with yourself if you found out Steve or any of your friends were hurt badly, let alone killed in Star Court.

The sirens got closer, a helicopter radioing in from above you, causing you both to pull away and look up at the flashing lights with soldiers being airlifted down.

Everything was going to be ok.

“You’re going to tell me how you’re so good at saving my ass and killing, right?” He asked, diverting his eyes back to yours twinkling with a slight bit of tease.

“As long as you tell me everything about this Upside Down crap?” You replied, with a languid push on his chest not caring about the bloody stain you left on his Scoops uniform.

“Promise.” He nodded with a grin, pulling you in for another kiss that drowned out the sounds of the emergency personnel attempting to get to you both.

They just had no idea…you were for real, a tiger.

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a/n: i'm back bitches!!! happy fall and im so sorry for keeping you all waiting since FOREVER! I hope you guys like this one and thanks for sticking around--it means the world to me 🥹💘✨

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