#looking with heart eyes at that little gangster boy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ssweetleaf · 10 months ago

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dark blue.

tommy shelby x fem!reader

summary: you're finn's girlfriend- and you've always received the same question, what's a good girl like you doing with a boy like him? funnily enough, his older brother thomas wonders the same thing.

includes: SMUT 18+, dom/sub dynamics, age-gap (tommy is in his early 40s, reader early 20s, though it isn't specified), innocence kink/corruption kink, cheating, daddy kink, oral (male rec), throat fucking, cum-eating, based on this ask here

a/n: feedback is always very much appreciated!! <3

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“What’s a good girl like you doin’ with a boy like Finn, eh?”

It was a common saying you'd get from various people over the few months that you'd been seeing a certain Finn Shelby-- you were used to it, the constant stares of disbelief that someone like you, someone so sweet, with pretty dresses and full of radiance would want anything to do with an up-and-coming gangster.

It was love, at least that's what you told yourself.

So after hearing that certain question so many times without batting an eyelid, why did it sound so different when it came from him?

Thomas Shelby. Your boyfriend's older brother. All stoic and dressed to impress and intimidate, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth like always, smoking on it without a care in the world whether he was allowed to in a house like yours or not.

He had surprised you, scared the wits out of you-- you were alone in the comfort of your bedroom, sitting at your vanity doing your nightly routine before he had shown up. You hadn't a clue how he'd gotten in, and he was smug about it, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth a big indicator.

You stood up, smoothing down your nightgown when it clung to the thickness of your thighs and attempted to make eye contact and stutter out a few words.

"M-Mr Shelby," you breathed, fiddling with your hands when you clasped them in front of you. "What're you doing here?"

Tommy's eyes flicked around your room, taking note of your white walls and plush, pink duvet-- the trinkets scattered along your room all cutesy and girly. Just like you and your stupid nightgown, he thought.

"Came here to properly introduce myself," he spoke, inhaling another drag and exhaling the harsh smoke in your direction.

"But we've already met," your brows furrowed, cocking your head to the side impishly and unsure. "It was the other day, don't you remember?"

"I do," he flicked his tongue over his lips to moisten them, eyes still fixated on you. "but that was far too formal, don't you think, sweetheart?"

An unusual shiver ran along your spine-- sweetheart, you liked the way it sounded, the way he said it. Finn never called you sweetheart.

You nodded, in a foggy daze, staring at him with a somewhat dumb expression on your face.

Tommy cleared his throat and you quickly shook yourself out of your strange stupor.

"Aren't y'gonna invite me to sit?" he asked, eyebrows raised, waiting. "that's what polite girls do, isn't it?"

You were quick to nod your head, pulling out your vanity chair and inviting him to sit, just like he had asked. He sat down, the contrast of his dark exterior with your pretty pink belongings had butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach-- a sense that he didn't belong there, but the thrumming between your thighs was obvious that you liked him being there, amongst you, amongst your things.

He stubbed his cigarette out in a little jewellery dish that sat upon your vanity, heart-shaped and porcelain, now covered in grey, smoking ash. You knew better than to chastise him for it.

"You didn't answer my question," he muttered, clasping his hands in front of him, though differently to you, it was in confidence, to intimidate.

You thought about it. Why were you with Finn?

"W-We're in love, sir," you stuttered, not meeting his gaze, your cheeks were on fire.

"You don't look too sure about that, sweetheart," there it was again, that name, a single term going straight to your core, a surge of wetness saturating the cotton of your underwear. "Has he fucked you yet?"

You coughed on your own spit, eyes bulging out of their sockets at his crude question.

"Pardon?" you breathed, exasperated.

His reply was simple.

"You heard me."

"I don't believe that's any of your concern-" he was quick to interject, eyes swarming and dark, consuming you, leaving you to hang your head and cower.

"Finn's my brother," he spoke, "I have the right to know what he gets up to, and I don't want him corrupting a good girl like you just because he thinks he's in love."

You flushed at his words and you decided to answer his previous question, no matter how inappropriate.

"We haven't," your words were soft, quiet, he almost had trouble hearing you.

"Haven't what?" he hid his smirk, he already had you wrapped around his little finger, it was too easy.

"Had sex," you muttered, cheeks searing at your confession.

“Do you want to?” He asked, you stiffened, lashes fluttering and lips opening and closing like a poor fish out of water.

“M-maybe…”

“Come here,” Tommy patted his thigh, signalling you to come closer, to stand between his spread legs and have him look at you much closer. You did as he asked, you were a good girl after all.

“Do you want me to show you what it’s like?” He cooed all condescending and mocking, “Do you want me to show you what big, bad men do to little girls like you?”

“Mr Shelby, what about Finn?” His eyes darkened at the mere mention of his youngest brother.

“Fuck Finn,” he spoke slowly, “you forget about him when I’m talking to you, you understand me?”

You nodded, resting your hands against his shoulders to steady you when he tugged you closer by the frills of your nightgown.

“Yes, Mr Shelby,”

“No, no, none of that,” he shook his head, hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing against your soft, covered skin. “You address me properly.”

You searched your mind for the right term, brows furrowing and lips pouting, trying to think what on earth he wanted you to address him by.

“Come on, sweet girl,” he chuckled, bringing his thumb and forefinger to grip your chin, tugging it from side to side. “I’m your daddy now, isn’t that right?”

You whined, unable to control it, rubbing your thighs together, your walls collapsing and letting your submissive nature come to the forefront.

Thomas Shelby was the devil himself, you were sure— and he was your daddy. Finn had disappeared from your mind completely.

“Yes,” you sighed, all dreamily and cute, leaning into his touch, “yes, daddy.”

His plump lips curved up into a smirk, palm patting at your cheek as if you were a dog, eager for praise-- and you realised that wasn't too far from the truth; just a bitch in heat, eager and ready for her first breeding.

You stared at him, dumbified from those cornflower irises of his, almost hypnotizing, and you were sure you'd comply with anything he'd ask of you.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Tommy could practically see the gears shifting beneath your skull and he raised his brows when you stuttered, a silent 'I'm waiting' when you took far too long to answer him.

"C-Can I have a kiss?" you spoke shyly, thumbing the expensive cotton of his crisp shirt, growing impossibly warmer and not just because of the close proximity. "please?"

You made sure to add your plea, keeping your manners intact, giving him something to be proud of you for.

So innocent, he thought, you really were such a good girl-- something he thought was all just an act to get what you wanted, however with the way you stumbled over your words and fluttered your lashes, more eager for a kiss than anything else- anything more.

Yeah, that was no act.

Tommy fought the smile that ticked at his lips, using his fingers to tip your chin, tugging you closer, closer, closer, until you were a hair's width away. You could feel his lips brush against the skin of your cheek, gently, so uncharacteristic, you didn't think that a man of his status and power could be so sweet on someone.

Though, of course, that's what Tommy Shelby wanted you to think, he wanted you to succumb to the desires that he caused, take you and defile you and leave you wanting no man other than himself. He craved the power imbalance, the sick need to corrupt young, naive little girls like yourself.

Tommy Shelby was not sweet. He was worlds apart from that.

The soft feeling of his lips grew nearer, to your cheek, then to the corner of your mouth, before pecking your lips-- a small spongy kiss, capable of urging a little whine to escape your throat.

He kissed you again, slotting your mouths together, locking your lips one over the other, deepening the kiss and it quickly became heated. Swiping his tongue along your bottom lip, he didn't have the patience to wait for you to open up, instead forcing his prodding tongue inside your mouth, crudely swiping it against yours, sucking it between his lips before running it along the ridges of your teeth.

You didn't think kissing could feel so dirty, so unhinged, but you were rather ashamed to say you liked it. The way his callused hands trailed from your hips to your neck, all the way back down just to take a handful of your behind, squeezing the doughy globes roughly and playing with them as if you were a mere toy.

Tommy pulled away, a long, silver line of spit keeping your lips connected, only breaking apart when he began to speak, pushing at your shoulders and urging you to the carpet.

"On your knees," his voice was raspy, and he cleared his throat, clearly affected by you, by your innocence more like. "gonna teach you how to keep men like me happy."

You instantly obeyed, dropping to your knees and sitting on your haunches, practically purring when he cupped and stroked your cheek.

He eyed you from below him, perched in the space between his knees and he spread them further to let you shuffle closer, your hands on his thighs.

"You're a good little pet, aren't you?" he cooed, swiping his thumb along your chin, "such a good listener, eh?"

You beamed up at him, leaning into his touch and nodding enthusiastically.

"Yes, Daddy," a little giggle pushed past your lips, "for you."

"That's right," he hummed, "just f'me."

You had an idea of what he wanted you to do and you fiddled with his belt in anticipation for his next command.

"You're gonna learn how to properly suck cock," he spoke, "and y'gonna do a fucking good job of it."

Your mouth watered at the prospect of having his cock on your tongue. You sighed dreamily.

"And once I've taught ya, that's gonna be your job from now on-- gonna ease daddy's stress whenever he needs you to."

You nodded, cheeks searing.

"Yes, sir- I'll do anything f'you."

He had you where he wanted you, compliant and ready to yield at his every command. It was too fucking easy, he almost wanted to laugh at your naivety, how unaffected you were by the idea of having another man's cock down your throat, your own boyfriend's brother in fact and Finn hadn't even crossed your mind. Poor, poor Finn, always second best when it came to being compared to Tommy.

You may have been a good girl and did as the older man said, but you were still a whore at heart. His little harlot.

"Come on then, sweetheart, I haven't got all day," he chastised, cocking his head down to his belt that you hadn't unbuckled yet. You had so much left to learn.

You fumbled with the leather that encircled his waist, pulling it through the silver buckle and from the loops before unzipping his fly and pulling his tailored trousers down as far as you could to his thighs.

The bulge in his briefs was prominent and your mouth salivated at the sight, your natural reaction to a sight so delectable, your first cock to suck and it was so big too, you wondered how you'd be able to take him without choking on him. But where was the fun if you weren't?

Your instincts told you to reach out and grab it, so you did just that, palming him through his underwear and feeling the warmth of his shaft jolt and throb against your grip, already hard and you swore you noticed a little wet spot saturating the fabric-- a trick of the light, you thought.

Tommy sucked in a sharp breath, giving you a pointed look, eyebrow raised.

"I'm not 'ere to get teased," he huffed, as if his cock wasn't jumping at the touch of your hand. He took a handful of your hair, tugging it and making your scalp burn. "come on, take it out and get to work."

Your fingers curled under the elastic of his briefs, pulling the fabric down to rest where his trousers were, and the sight had you gawking, eyes as wide as saucers as you took in his pretty appendage.

So thick, littered with blue veins, the colour much akin to the blue of his eyes and you swallowed down all the saliva that pooled under your tongue. His tip was a pretty shade of tan, glistening with beads of pre-cum, slapping against his stomach every time he throbbed.

"I didn't know they could be this pretty," you marvelled, taking hold of it and delicately running your fingers up each prominent vein. Tommy cleared his throat at your unexpected praise, the grip on your hair a lot softer than before, instead of tugging on it, he petted it down softly, watching you watch him.

"Put me in your mouth, darling," you smiled up at him teasingly pouting up at him.

"So impatient," you teased, your confidence rising, before you tightened your grip, puckering your lips around his tip, sucking it as if he were one of your favourite lollipops.

You took him out of your mouth with a soft pop, just to reattach yourself to him, lathering your tongue over his sensitive head, the somewhat salty taste igniting your tastebuds and you hummed around him.

"There y'go, you can take more than that," you hollowed your cheeks at his words, going lower, taking him deeper and slowly you started to bob your head up and down, moaning at his taste and thickness on your tongue.

With a particularly harsh downward thrust of your head, he reached the back of your throat, instantly causing you to gag and you pulled off him, whining and sniffling with tears ebbing over your waterline.

"Good girl," he cooed breathlessly, chest heaving and palms cradling your face, hushing and settling you when you continued to whine out. "Doin' so well, got me a little whore in the making, hm?"

He pushed you back onto his cock, guiding you down, down, down until you were gagging once again, though this time you didn't pull off of him, you couldn't, not with the strength he was using to hold and keep your head down. Your nose brushed against the course thatch of hair that littered his pelvis and you tried to resist gagging at the stupidly large intrusion by breathing steadily through your nose.

You wanted so badly to rise for air, to ease the soreness that started to buzz in your throat, but although this was your first time, a true beginner, he still treated you like one of his most proficient whores. Coughing and spluttering, drool started to slip from your mouth and down your chin, so messy and slick, dripping down the length of your neck, saturating your pink nightgown and settling in the space between your tits.

"Fuck," he groaned, "gonna fuck this little virgin throat, gonna make you choke- doesn't that sound good, sweet girl?"

With the way you sobbed and moaned around him, he took it as a yes, keeping a good, firm grip upon your tresses to bob you up and down as he pleased, thrusting his hips upwards and meeting your mouth in the middle.

You grew light-headed, crude, sloppy sounds filling the air along with your constant gags and you quickly slapped at his thigh, urging him to let you up, to go easy on you and let you catch your breath. He didn't stop, however, didn't even slow down, purposeful in messing with you and teaching you that he was in charge-- he would decide whether you needed to breathe or not.

He chuckled at your vulnerability, stopping his thrusts to to sheath himself deep down your throat and keep you still, just the feeling of you gagging around his shaft was enough to stimulate him.

Eventually, he let you up for breath, marvelling at how you coughed and struggled to catch your breath, your throat feeling entirely abused and sore each time you swallowed. His pretty cock jolted at the sight of you, so messy and whoreish, hair tangled and spit dribbling down your chin.

"Breathe, darling," he cooed, cupping your tear-stained cheeks between his rough palms and pouting at you mockingly, pressing a rather condescending peck to your forehead. "Bein' so good-- almost done, sweetheart, just gotta make daddy cum and then you can rest that lovely throat of yours."

You breathed shakily, settling down on your haunches again and grabbing his slick cock in your grasp.

"Okay, Daddy," you sniffled, such a sweet girl, even with a cock in your hand.

Tommy guided you down, conducting your movements with a thrust and push to your head, keeping you pliant and submerging himself within you, and if your throat felt this good his head reeled at the thought of your pussy-- so tight and virginal, untouched, not even by your curious little fingers.

He'd have all of you soon enough.

You could see his stomach muscles clenching, thighs flexing from under your palms and you hummed around him when you noticed his thrusts growing sloppier.

"Fuck," Tommy groaned, breaths haphazard and shaky, "you ready, sweet girl? You ready to taste Daddy's cum? Y'gonna swallow it all, aren't you, otherwise m'gonna have to force feed it down that pretty throat."

You stared up at him as best as you could, fluttering your lashes, tears spilling and clouding your vision, though you blinked them away, eager to see him, to see the way his face would contort, how beautiful he'd look whilst shooting cum inside your mouth.

One, two, three more thrusts were all it took for him to start convulsing, cock jolting on your tongue and spilling his seed, coating the walls of your constricting throat. He was groaning, moaning out loud, sounds so pretty you had to keep your thighs clenched tight.

"Shit- good girl, such a good little whore, you are."

He continued to ride his orgasm out, until he grew far too over-sensitive, pulling himself out of your mouth and lifting your head up, spent and eyes hooded watching you swallow his seed and hum at the newfound taste-- something you already found yourself becoming addicted to.

"Look," you beamed, still teary-eyed and shaky on your knees, you opened your mouth wide, sticking out your tongue for him to marvel at, completely clean of all traces of his cum, now deep in your belly. "swallowed it all, daddy- just like you said."

Tommy's head started to spin, praising you at how good you had been though he felt strange, heart thumping in his chest at the mere sight of you, he felt soft, a small smile on his face without realising.

He thought you were wrapped tightly around his finger, however he had begun to realise in such a short time it was the complete opposite way around.

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yellowpsyduck · 11 months ago

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𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warning: Smut

Her dress was white like the Arctic Snow.

Her cheeks were red like the Chrysler Imperial.

A glance was all it took for one to deduce that Y/N Elliot stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the sea of greys in the grimy streets of Birmingham.

With her short tight curls and her eyes that seemed untinged with the horrors that plagued the notorious English town, she was a sight to behold.

Mr. Elliot was the preacher at the local Presbyterian Church, but his daughter evoked the urge to sin in the minds of the lads of the town.

And again, a glance was all it took for one to fixate upon this seemingly other worldly apparition that roamed the streets of Birmingham with her teasing smile and her plump red lips.

And Thomas Michael Shelby was no exception.

Soon the occasional glances that he threw her way should they ever cross paths turned into waiting by the front of her house to escort her to finishing school, much to the dismay of the girl’s father.

The young Elliot girl was infatuated with the older man. The boys that previously courted her couldn’t hold a candle to his suave. With his cigarettes and his well pressed suits, Tommy Shelby was simply a dream come true for the impressionable girl.

She couldn’t care less about her parents’ disapproval of their relation, nor did she care about what the towns folk had to say.

‘He loves me, and I love him and that’s all that matters’ she assured herself each night.

The two soon became inseparable, the leader of the Peaky blinders even barged inside the school and pulled his darling out of the classroom simply because he ‘missed’ her. The teachers and staff knew better than to obstruct the infamous gangster.

The two went to the fair that day. He bought her all the dainty little trinkets that her heart desired. She didn’t go easy on the spending too; she knew his pockets wouldn’t hurt from her silly purchases.

And for his kind generosity, she rewarded him with her first kiss.

A simple kiss on the lips; that’s how it started but it soon turned heated and passionate.

It goes without saying that she lost her purity to him, right in the backseat of the black Ford.

Still clad in her school attire, she sat on his lap with his hands encircling her lithe waist.

He left a trail of kisses down her exposed collarbone, his hands working to unbutton her shirt which her mother had carefully pressed that morning.

The chemise underneath soon found itself discarded on the floor of the vehicle.

Her pink coloured bra was on full display for him. The more conservatively fashioned fabric did little to hide the fullness of the plump breasts underneath.

Her breath was shallow as she looked at him with those beautiful doe eyes of hers.

Her cheeks tinted with arousal and her eyes misty with desire.

She was a sight to behold as she guided his hand to cup her left breast, telling him that she was ready.

Tommy couldn’t contain himself any longer and his fingers found themselves unclasping the fabric that shielded her modesty. He sucked with urgency on her perky nipples while he kneaded the other, giving equal attention to both of those glorious mounds.

Y/N was a squirming mess. She loved the feeling of his hot mouth as he showered her with his touch.

She could feel her panties dampen with each passing second. No boy had ever made her this hot and bothered.

She needed more of him. She needed his touch.

Tommy could feel the wetness on his thighs as the girl began grinding herself on his thighs.

“Eager, aren’t we?” he teased with a raspy drawl.

God! This girl was driving him crazy.

He continued trailing his kisses down her stomach and halted at the waistband of her skirt.

He swiftly tossed the heavy garment aside along with her garter and knickers.

She was on full display for him. For him and his eyes only.

He couldn’t peel his eyes off her body.

She had bewitched him.

Sure, Thomas Shelby had been with his fair share of women before her, but he had never felt so strongly for any woman before, nor did he think he could ever.

Not after this.

Not after her.

His thumb slid across her clit, eliciting a beautiful moan from her.

Gently, he prodded her glistening hole with a finger.

She was too tight.

He thrusted his finger inside her as she coated him in her lewd liquid.

Now two fingers.

He was thrusting her insides with just two fingers, yet it completely filled her up.

She was a panting mess.

She could feel his now bulging erection poking against her bare butt.

Just as she could find her release, he extracted his fingers from the throbbing pussy, making her cry in desperation.

“Tommy please.” she purred as she met his pale blue irises. She was a whimpering, desperate mess.

“Just a minute darling.” he assured her as he hurriedly unbuckled his belt and freed his pulsating swollen cock.

Y/N wasn’t sure how he was going to fit his fat cock inside her tight pussy, but she didn’t care anymore. All she wanted was for him to fill her up and make love to her.

He carefully lined his cock that was leaking with precum to her entrance and gently entered her hole.

Just the tip was in and even then, Y/N was threatening to spill teardrops from her lustful eyes.

“It’ll only hurt for a second, Darling.” he whispered in her ear as he forced himself inside of her virgin cunt.

Y/N was seeing stars.

Oh! The pain and the pleasure; both feelings intertwined as she felt him thrusting inside of her giving rise to this otherworldly feeling of ecstasy.

Tommy couldn’t control himself inside of her as he pounded into her.

Her tight pussy was driving him mad with pleasure.

He could see the scarlet testament of her purity flowing down her thighs as he corrupted her innocence.

She was his.

No one else’s.

The two continued their lovemaking, completely engulfed in the throngs of their union.

That night, as they lay in the meadow on the English countryside, with his hands around her and her head on his chest, they looked up at the sky that bear witness to their passions.

And that faithful day, Thomas Shelby made a woman out of Y/N Elliot.

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jm-2406 · 8 months ago

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Summary - Tommy Shelby has been slowly drifting away from his only son after losing his wife. You are a nurse specialising in children's wards. When Frances comes running to the hospital with little Charlie in her arms, you decide to give a piece of mind to the bigshot gangster.

Words - 1.5k

Note - this is silly. I wrote it in less than one hour. It features an OOC Tommy Shelby and a daring reader who doesn't fear him like others.

Tommy Shelby, MP OBE was not used to getting calls between meetings, especially from his loyal housekeeper who knew when not to bother him. He was busy dealing with some important people, drowning himself in work like he usually did after Grace passed away. It was not that he didn't care for his son but sometimes looking at him was too difficult for him, the little boy had so much of Grace in him. So imagine his surprise when instead of Frances it was someone else on the other side of the telephone.

"Mr Shelby, I'm not Frances. My name is (Y/N) and I'd like to let you know that your son is not well. You should come as soon as possible to the hospital." You informed him without any hesitation, the concern for Charlie made your nervousness take a back seat plus not looking directly at his blue eyes also helped in retaining your confidence.

"What happened to him?" His lazy drawl came as a reply. "Well if you insist…" You tried to stall, tried to get under his skin so that he'd come to see his son but his silence made you speak up. "Mr. Shelby, I understand that you are grieving but so is your son. He was having a nightmare and needed someone to hold him close, to soothe him. I'd say he needed his father, not his nanny or Frances. Help yourself and your son by being there for him." Without thinking about the consequences, you pour your heart out and immediately hang up.

• • •

It has been a few days since the incident. You were worrying about Charlie and went to meet him directly at 'Arrow House'. [Yes, you are daring and a risk taker]. You knocked gently, arranging the basket of freshly baked cookies for the three-year-old cherub in your arms.

"Who are you?" A deep male voice caught your attention. Looking up, your breath got caught in your throat. Standing in front of you was the man of the house himself, Thomas Shelby. "What are you doing here?" You questioned foolishly instead. In your defence, you did not know that he'd be home at eleven o'clock since it was a Tuesday. He merely raised his eyebrow at your remark.

“If you didn't know Miss, this is my house. I live here.” Your cheeks reddened and you turned around to escape when a high-pitched voice stopped you. "(Y/N)" shouted Charlie. "Call her inside daddy. She's my friend." He said - more like ordered - his father who complied with a small "as you say, son." You felt a sense of comfort seeing the father and son interacting almost normally after that phone call incident.

Nervously, you stepped inside and Frances immediately took your coat as well as the basket of cookies. Charlie ran inside to get his colouring pages and asked you to wait for him. You were looking here and there, avoiding the dark-haired man but he had other plans.

"Thank you," Tommy said. You furrowed your brows in confusion. He cleared his throat and elaborated. "For making me realise that I was unknowingly neglecting my son, pushing him away from me. I love him, I really do. Thank you for making us come closer." He was not a man of words, especially praises but something about you got him talking, was it your kind nature, your non-judgemental eyes or your stern yet concerned voice when you called him that day that made him open up to you, he didn't know… but that is a topic for later.

"You're welcome, Mr Shelby. Charles is a sweet boy. I wish well for him." You blushed, no one had said such kind words to you. "How about you join us for dinner? Charlie would like that." Tommy said unexpectedly. Just as you were about to deny it, considering it rude to intrude, Charlie came running to you asking you to stay and colour with him. You couldn't say no to that adorable face.

And that's how you spent the evening, laughing and enjoying the company of two Shelby men, happier than ever.

• • •

[PART - 2]

It has been almost half a year since that evening you spent in the company of the Shelby men and you couldn't help but feel lucky. Everything went uphill after that, luckily.

You found out that you and Tommy had a lot in common which was surprising in itself. You both were mostly emotionally detached but were willing to cross any line if it meant saving your family, you both liked to read though Tommy was secretive about it for reasons you still didn't know, and nothing could surpass the love you had for horses, those strong yet gentle beasts were the only faithful friend you had… except for each other.

While your thoughts started to roam in dangerous territory, you were still unsure of Tommy's feelings on the matter. You have heard that the man was ruthless and incapable of feeling affection but you saw a side of him that was hidden from the world, his gentle and loving sight, his respectful side… you were certain that what you felt for him may not be love but it wasn't anything less. You decided to ignore this newfound feeling, unsure of what he felt.

The sudden knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts. "What-?" You were confused about finding a drunk Tommy Shelby on your doorstep. "(Y/N) How are you my angel?" He continued to stare at you making you realise that this was an actual question and not a rhetorical one. "I - uhh - I am fine Tommy. What are you doing here at midnight?" You pulled him inside.

The sight of a drunk Tommy Shelby lying on your cheap broken sofa with the bottle of Irish whiskey clasped in his hand was unusually tempting and soft, as he gazed up at you with his bright blue eyes.

"Charlie loves you (Y/N). Did you know he was calling for you earlier today?" He whispered and gulped the remaining of the whiskey immediately after.

"No Tommy. I am sorry. I was busy today." Your heart broke hearing about the little boy calling for you and not finding you by his side. "Yeah. Being a lifesaver is not easy, eh?" He said rhetorically this time, placing his hands on your waist. The cool of his hands seeping through the thin material of your nightgown.

"I asked him to be a well-behaved little boy and I'll bring you to him… maybe permanently what say?"

You gasped hearing his words, not knowing what he was suggesting. "Tommy… you're drunk. We'll talk about it in the morning if you still remember what you said." You pushed him to your bedroom, tucking him in like you'd do for Charlie. taking the spare pillow and blanket, you laid down on the sofa.

• • •

"You alright Mr Shelby?" You asked giving him a painkiller. He looked at you with wide eyes, just like Charlie would… The resemblance between them always melted your heart.

He cleared his throat before addressing you. "(Y/N) about last night - uhh - I meant what - what I said." You gawked at him, The Tommy Shelby stuttering in front of you. You were definitely special to him.

"I - you mean - what exactly did you mean by 'permanently' last night?" Your cheeks reddened, little hair on your neck stood as you awaited his answer.

"I didn't plan for this to happen so spontaneously but we gotta do what we gotta do right?" He paused and you held your breath for his next words. "I'm not good with words so beware. Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) I am grateful for your help in more than one of my life problems. My son loves you and calls out for you all the time, I adore you and your strength. Will you do the honour of making me the luckiest man in Birmingham by marrying me?" Tommy pulled out a small jewellery box from his coat pocket and held before you a simple but elegant and beautiful princess-cut diamond ring.

You sobbed. "Is that even a question?" You nodded, unable to speak as he placed the ring on your finger. You jumped up, unable to control your excitement and hugged him with all your might. And for the first time in many years, Tommy Shelby was finally feeling peace. He felt a wave of hope… for himself and your future together.

• • •

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby #fanfic #𝐣 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

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jujutsukgojo · 11 months ago

Text

The boy in art

gangster!Sukuna x reader

Chapter Two

Summary:

Minutes later you hear screams and more gunshots. None inside though. You peek around to see a group of men shoot others. Quickly, you turn around, so you don’t see anything. You don’t want to.

Tears stream down your face. This isn’t you! You aren't cut out for this. You did not sign up for all of this!

"You know you're my girl, right?"

a/n: Not the best but oh well. i was supposed to write something for Gojo because of his birthday yet here i am with sukuna i dont own jjk tw: implied violence, vandalism, implied drug deals, etc. fast paced! ooc sukuna (oh well :)) fast paced! characters: Reader, Sukuna, OC, Nobara, mentioned Megumi and yuuji, and a little mahito (sorry)

As you are walking to your classroom, you hear swearing. The hallway is empty and brightly lit. You are the only one here now since you decided to arrive early for class. Entering the classroom, you sit your bag down. Much to your annoyance, the noises don’t stop. Curious, you get up to go to the source.

In the middle of the hallway is a window. You open it to see two men talking. Everything is normal until you see what is in their hands. You gasp, causing the two men to look at you. “What are you two doing?”

“Mind your own business.” The one with pink hair and tattoos says. “You can’t do that here!”

“Get inside, little girl.” The other rolls his eyes at you and leaves. “There, you happy? It’s all over now.”

“Whatever you do in your free time is up to you. But you cannot do this here.”

“You own this place?” He gestures the area.

“No, I take classes here.” He pops out a cigarette and lights it. You noticed that his ears move a little when he does that. “Then why are you so pressed about it?”

“This is my school!” He looks around at the building. “That’s your name?”

“Why would my name be “Community College”, dumbass?” The pink haired man shrugs. “The hell I know. What is it anyway?”

“This is a community school that offers art co-”

“Now look who’s the dumbass, you’re just as stupid as I am. I mean your name.” He interrupts you. You bite your lip and tap your fingers.

“(Y/n). What's it to you?” You place your hands on the windowsill. He laughs and walks away. “Nothing at all. See you later.” You slam the window shut.

It isn’t your business, yeah, but it is around you. They can say whatever about you who cares. However, you don’t want that type of shit anywhere near you. With a goal in mind, you cannot afford to be bothered with that.

Over-achiever, prude, rude, and whatever else they say. Let them talk. It will be you who has a good, decent, life that is secure and stable.

“He was cute though.” You won’t ever see him again. There is nothing to hold onto.

---

Your professor points to the stack of papers on his desk. “For those who would like to, the papers are right here to fill out. Turn them in accordingly and on time.”

This is what you have been waiting for. Your heart is racing. Finally, you got an opportunity for an internship at the art museum. With your good grades you should be a shoo in for the position. After class, you get up and grab a paper to fill it out. Since you have some time on your hands, you fill it out right then. It is not every day that the museum allows interns.

With the final signature of your name, you turn in the paper. Leaving the room, you exit the school with a pep in your step. Lo’ and behold, there is the pink haired guy at the corner of the street. You roll your eyes and walk past him, mentally kicking yourself for forgetting your headphones.

“So that’s how it is?”

You shouldn’t acknowledge him. “What do you want?”

He hisses as if you hurt him. “You’re not going to say hello?”

Rolling your eyes, you ask, “Why the hell would I do that for?”

He chuckles and leans back further onto the wall. “No reason at all.”

Scoffing, you walk away. “Sukuna!” He yells. You turn around and ask what he meant. “That’s my name, Sukuna.”

“I didn’t ask you.”

“Alright then, brat.”

You smack your lips and leave. He's bad news. As pretty as he is, he’s no good. You have all this going for you, you can’t afford to be around him. With the possible internship, your part time job, to school, you can’t be associated with him.

You take out the store’s keys to open the door. A little bell goes off when you do. You set your things down on the counter and open the blinds. Nobara had been here earlier, so there was not much else to do. And by the looks of things, business was slow.

Even though it is a small shop, you don’t want it to close. You don't really see bookstores like this anymore. Unfortunately, closure may be soon since you, Nobara, and the owner are the only workers.

After settling down, you flip the sign to ‘open’. Nobara didn’t finish putting the newly donated books away. Sighing, you check the books and push the small cart to the aisle so you can put them away.

You hum a light tune until the bell dings. “Welcome!”

Pushing the cart to the front, you greet the person with a smile. They tell you what they’re looking for in exchange for the bag full of classic books they give you. As mandatory, you study the books for any rips, stains, writings, drawings, and other signs of wear that would make the book ineligible to be donated.

Only three of them passed.

“Alright, you have a credit of five. You can use it now or later.” They frown. “I just gave you a shit ton of books?”

“Yeah, but other than these three, the rest are too messed up for us to take.” Please, don’t argue.

And of course, your prayers go unanswered as they begin to raise their voice at you. “Stop yelling. Please understand that these books here,” You push them towards the owner. “Are in terrible condition. I cannot take them.”

They really are. A giant coffee stain in one, a ripped page in another, and one of the covers are barely together. The three that passed inspection barely made the cut. They will have to be half price.

“I’ll take my business elsewhere then.” Tired of them, you push the three towards them as well. “Here. Please go.”

They huff and shove all their books into the plastic bag. Grouching and complaining, they slam the door open and leave.

It isn’t every day that this happens but lately it is becoming common. Ever since summer vacation is over, there have been a few students here and there looking for books. Mainly, textbooks. Unfortunately, not many people donate them. Even if they did, many schools tend to switch books frequently, which makes textbooks age like milk and practically useless.

Still, donations would be nice to those who still need those editions.

Rubbing your hands together, you put on a pot of coffee. If you are going to have to deal with customers, you should at least have a pot or so.

The bell dings again. Your day is ruined by that one worm, so you don’t smile. Dramatic? Yes. Do you care? No.

The customer walks to one of the aisles and begins to search. You'll be of assistance if they need help. The pot of coffee is not brewing fast enough. It is about halfway done by the time the customer comes to the front. You face the customer and don’t quite know what to expect when it is that one pink haired guy from before.

“You stalking me, sweets?”

“No, I work here! You are stalking me.”

“If you say so.” He places the book on the counter. Quickly, you check it out, not wanting to talk to him more than you have to. “Hey, why are you so rude?”

“I’m not rude.” You say in a matter of fact-tone. “Yeah, you are. I’ve been nice to you all day and you’ve been so snooty.”

“I am not snooty.” You cross your arms and frown. It is the condescending feeling he’s giving, and the fact that he thinks he knows you so well.

No one knows you better than you.

“What do you call all that then?”

“Goal oriented.” He hums and runs his tongue along his teeth. “What are your goals?”

You begin to check out his books. “Art. You?”

You don’t tell him the ultimate goal, of course. And like almost every person in your predicament, it’s stability, security. You're tired of the unknown and the possibility of losing everything. Tired of caring for everyone and everything else because of someone else’s irresponsibility.

You want to live and do it for yourself.

“Normal stuff.”

You look up at him with an eyebrow raised. “ It'll be ten fifty, please.”

He hands it to you in cash. His book is placed in the store’s bag. Before he can leave, you shoot him a question. “You don’t read, do you?”

“Not much.” He leaves you.

----

After meeting him, you end up seeing a lot of Sukuna. He comes by the store every day to bother you, teases you, and walks you to school. Lately you’ve noticed the crime rate going up, but not a single crime is near you. For a bit, the owner was scared for the shop. Fortunately, nothing has happened. Nobara, of course, is suspicious but you can’t blame her.

Out and about with Sukuna, you reveal that you take care of your baby sister. Even though Sukuna has become a constant in your life, you are still leery about them meeting. “You understand, right?”

He carries the items you intend to buy. “Yeah, I’d be freaked if you were too eager.”

“It’s just the damn crime rate’s up and we just met-”

“And here we are.”

“Shut up. Anyway, I’m being cautious.” Sukuna chuckles. “I know. You don’t have to explain,”

You smile at him. Talking to him is so refreshing. There isn’t pressure and you don’t have to watch what you say. The two of you come together so naturally.

“What do you know about the crime rates anyway?” You pick up a candle and smell it first, then have him smell it. Sukuna hums and gives you a slight, ‘gimme’. You place a candle in his large hand.

“I know that they’re becoming more frequent. Way more violent, too. Not much as robbing as it is assaults and murder and drugs.”

“Murder?”

“Yep. Just the other day, a guy was in an ‘accident’ and what did they find? A message carved on his stomach or something. It's crazy!” It was on the news. The accident is believed to be staged, obviously. You found out about it at work. Nobara and you of course had your theories and assumptions on what the message could have been and who the culprit was.

“Well, don’t worry about all of that, alright? You're fine.” You side eye him as you put your items on the belt to check out. Immediately, he cuts in front of you to pay. “You don’t have to...”

“I’m doing it anyway.”

Most of it is for your sister anyway. A coloring book and crayons, some fruit snacks, a toy that she’s been wanting for months, and a cheap pair of sneakers. The candle was something on sale that you picked up on a whim.

“Sukuna, you don’t have to. I'm serious.”

He carries the bags. “Always this stubborn? You can’t even accept help?”

“I’m used to doing it all.” You awkwardly laugh as guilt settles in your gut. It makes you so uncomfortable knowing someone else bought your sister’s things. You have been taking care of her for so long, it’s weird.

He stares at her little shoes. “You need to relax, sweets.” After noticing that you are still uncomfortable, he adds, “I enjoy it. Let me take care of you.”

Your head is down so he can’t see how wide your eyes have gotten. The last time someone took care of you, you were a child and your sibling wasn’t thought of. Now, Sukuna, someone you met not long ago, wants to?

After all these years, you don’t know how to handle that.

You find yourself at another store trying on the cheapest shoes there. Sukuna comes up to you with an adorable pair of kid shoes. “What size shoe do you think I wear?”

“They’re not for you, dumbass. They’re for the kid.”

“She already has a pair, remember?”

He rolls his eyes. “And now she has two. And these are better.” You sigh, giving up on explaining that she’ll grow out of them in no time.

“Here, put these on.” You sigh as he gently places a heel on your foot. It's black and with the finest leather and comes to a delicate point. “What am I going to wear this for?”

Sukuna buckles the straps on your ankle. “For me.” You scowl at his smirk and laughter at your expense. “Here, look,”

He has you stand in front of a mirror. “See how good you look?” You hum in response. They're pretty and make you feel pretty. You find them to be a pair that’ll fit for different occasions. “What’s not to like, sweets?”

You suck in your lips. “You’re right, fine. I do look good in them.” You would have been able to keep that mindset had you not seen the price point. “They’re hideous, put them back.”

“They’re yours.”

“I can’t afford them.” He has already done too much. Sukuna rolls his eyes at you. “I can.”

All the pairs of shoes ring up to a ridiculous amount. You can’t even look at it or Sukuna. He grabs your chin. “Stop it.”

No matter what, the feeling of guilt and unease is too strong to just ignore.

The next time you see Sukuna, you are at a park during your lunch break. In your bag are art supplies that you thought of bringing in case you got bored. Now, it is just up to finding what to draw.

“Sweets, what’re you doing out here?” You shrug your shoulders. He sighs and sits down next to you on the grass. “Why are you still mad?”

“I’m not mad. I'm just not used to it. I'm always the one taking care of things and you pop up taking my responsibility away...I don’t like it.”

He plucks the blades of grass. “I will only say this once. So, fucking listen," He takes a deep breath and mumbles, "I’m sorry. I wanted to do something for you. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me, Sukuna. You couldn’t.” Sukuna looks at the birds in the sky flying freely. In the silence between you two, you take it. With each stroke Sukuna manifests on the paper. The essence of peace and security is slowly being captured on the canvas.

“What’re you doing you little brat?” He takes a peek at it. It is a rough version of him. It captures the serenity and beauty of him, though. “Hm.”

“Do you like it?”

“Hm.” Is all he says with the slightest curve of his lips and tiniest hint of pink on his cheeks. Although this is also picturesque, you’ll keep this part of Sukuna for yourself. For your blessed eyes only.

Soon, the rough portrait is done. You are so focused on it, you don’t see the softness in his eyes, but you do feel the roughness of his calloused fingertips as they caress your face in adoration.

------

“(Y/n), I'm just saying I saw him there. Not that he did anything!” Nobara exclaims after sipping her overly sweet coffee.

“Well, it sounds like it.” The two of you have been going back and forth for about thirty minutes because Nobara saw Sukuna standing and acting suspiciously. And, well, doing what you thought he did when you first met him.

Not that you’d admit it.

“Damn it, Nobara. What were you doing there anyway?” You ask as you pour yourself a cup of strong coffee. You need something to distract you. Anything to deflect this.

“Don’t do that. I was passing by to go to the fucking station. He was out in the open.” After a moment or two of complete silence, she breathes. “I want you to be safe and know what you’re getting into.”

Immediately you scoff.

“You act like he’s some dangerous criminal ready to chop me up into little pieces. Would a criminal tuck my sister into bed? Or let me read to him? Keep my paintings and support me? Protect me? Or-”

“Oh my God. I’m not saying he isn’t sweet to you. I am just telling you what I saw!”

“Am I interrupting?” Both of you turn around to see a tall man stand there with his eyebrows raised. You suck in your lips and shake your head no. Nobara recovers quicker than you and smiles at the man.

“No, no, no! Just a tiff among friends. Y'know, friends who look out for each other and recognize danger.”

Your eye twitches but you don’t retaliate. Not when there is a much needed customer.

“Have a look around! Let us know if you need anything.” You put on a smile for the man. He nods and looks around. There is something off about him. At first, you think the cold aura is in your head, but Nobara sticks close to you with the same thing in mind.

He's dangerous. Something is wrong.

What is he doing here? No way is he actually looking for a book. All he’s doing is looking at the walls and pretending to skim the novels. Nobara grabs your hand and squeezes. She's shaking and he hasn’t even done anything remotely threatening.

Maybe it is the way he moves. Gracefully, like a ghost. Or the muscles that form his body that his shirt struggles to contain. It doesn’t look like he has a weapon on him. Perhaps it isn’t needed.

What is this heaviness around him? The chill you get when he turns the corner of every shelf. How he looks at you with a curious and studying gaze. Is this bloodlust? The hair on your arms is raised. Nobara, who isn’t afraid of anything or anyone, is scared.

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for, sir?” You are pinching your thigh to keep a steady voice. “No.”

He grabs a random book that he didn’t even look at and places it on the counter. The nameless man says nothing when you ring it up. He pays with crinkled up cash and a wink in Nobara’s direction.

Once he leaves, she runs to the door and locks it. “Did you see what he did?!”

“What?”

She groans and explains that he checked out the store to rob it. “Why would he rob it? A bookstore of all places?”

“I don’t know...but tell me you weren’t scared!” You cannot deny it. There's something wrong.

Nobara goes out with Megumi and Yuuji to lunch immediately after. She makes you swear to lock the door and not let anyone in until she comes back. Lately, the usual busy time isn’t until another hour anyway, so it’s an easy promise.

You’re putting on another pot of coffee when the first shot happens. The bullet goes right through the pot that you’re holding and shatters the glass. A scream is caught in your throat. More bullets come through barely missing you. You duck and see the store’s merchandise suffer from the insanity.

You grab your phone and in a state of panic, call Sukuna and tell him everything. He can hear the glass and the wicked noise.

“Stay down, and crawl to the back hallway. I'll handle it.”

It was the hallway the man didn’t see.

You do as he says and wonder if you should call the authorities. Maybe Sukuna will. You don’t know why you called him instead of the police. It was just a quick reaction.

Minutes later you hear screams and more gunshots. None inside though. You peek around to see a group of men shoot others. Quickly, you turn around, so you don’t see anything. You don’t want to.

Tears stream down your face. This isn’t you! You aren't cut out for this. You did not sign up for all of this.

And yet, you don’t want to look outside and see what is happening.

The police did come after Sukuna came in through the backdoor. He told you that the bad men were gone and for you to tell the cops that the shop was attacked and that you hid the entire time. You did as you were told.

Who they were, why they were there, what could have happened to them? You don’t know. You were hiding.

The shop keeper was furious but grateful for your safety. Nobara, too. But she knows better.

-----

“What’d you doing now, brat?” Sukuna likes to bother you at work, home, and especially at the museum now that you got accepted as an intern. “Working!”

“That’s too heavy for you.” He grabs it. “Where do I put it?”

“Here.” You gently guide him on where to put the sign. After, he decides to stick around and help you with the heavy things. Of course, you watch as his arms flex whenever he picks something up.

“Hey, Sukuna,” you start. The two of you are alone right now with nothing but the art witnessing the conversation.

“What are we doing?”

He stops and furrows his brows. “What?”

“Like, what are we?” Do you really want to know his answer? Then again, the rejection will make it easier to let go, you think. Or maybe you want him to release you? To push you away so you don’t have to think about that night anymore.

He comes up to you from behind. Sukuna's arms wrap around you and his chin rests on your shoulder. “I’d like for you to be mine.”

You scoff and try to step on his toes. Playfully, Sukuna bites your ear, causing you to shriek and laugh.

“If you two are done now-”

You jump at the sound of your boss. “Sorry!” You grab your boyfriend’s hand and rush past her.

Boyfriend...wow.

-----

You tuck your little sibling into the bed. After reading their favorite book in the character’s voices, she went fast asleep. Sukuna wished her a goodnight on the phone, too. The smile she had on her face was picture worthy. She seems to like him a lot.

Although, you couldn’t tell her the truth as to why he wasn’t there in person. So, telling her that he was just at work sufficed.

After putting away her new shoes and the dinner dishes, you rest on the couch. The museum has a big showing tomorrow. All the lifting and organizing took a lot out of you. However, you are excited more than anything. He doesn’t know it yet, but your drawing of him got a place in the local’s art section.

Right as you close your eyes, your phone rings. “Hello?”

“Come to the museum, right now.” Your boss demands before she hangs up. Her tone gave you pause. Not because of how rude it was, but because of how stressed and worried.

Quickly, you put your sister’s shoes on and wrap her up in her blanket. Unfortunately, you don’t have anyone to watch her. Your mother is as useless as your father is.

“Where are we going?” She sleepily asks. “Sh, go back to sleep.” Immediately, she does.

Besides, you aren’t sure if you really want her to be awake during this.

Your breath is taken away at the sight. Flashing colors of the police cars illuminated the night. Everything you worked at was completely destroyed. The museum walls, the art, and most specifically, Sukuna’s portrait, are ruined.

Your boss is tapping her foot as she is lost in thought. Suddenly, she notices you. “There you ar-” She stops when she sees the bundle you are carrying.

“I didn’t have a babysitter.”

She takes a deep breath. “Look around. Do you see all of this? The museum is totaled.”

“I see that, ma’am.” She walks to you. “Your boyfriend’s picture in particular suffered.” She stops walking. “I need to know. Are you involved in this?”

“No! Not at all!”

“I won’t press charges on you. But I do need honesty.” Your eyes are wide. “I am serious! I really don’t know!”

You pray that she can hear the sincerity in your voice.

She sighs. “Ok, I believe you had nothing to do with it.” She looks down before she continues. “But I do not believe that you are ignorant as to why it happened. (Y/n), I’m going to have to terminate the internship.”

Your breath is caught in your throat. “F-for what?! I didn’t do anything!”

“You are a smart girl. You need to choose who you are around better.” She leaves you in the street, surrounded by darkness.

Your arms begin to get tired from your sister’s weight.

“Lord, I am so tired...” You whisper in the night.

After this, you didn’t get another internship. Not with Sukuna’s mark on you.

-----

You go to the park a few days later so your sister can play with the other kids. She wanted to call Sukuna and ask him to come. He never showed up even though he said he would.

By the time dusk broke, you packed everything and went home to think.

After the museum incident, you got blacklisted by other museums around the city. Even private artists avoid you. Your professor, naturally, heard of the incident and lectured you about safety and how you should not have taken the internship for granted.

It spread like wildfire. Your boss at the bookshop had a talk with you as well. Wanting to know if Sukuna was connected with the vandalism at the shop. You told him you didn’t know and that it was possible. He decided to let you keep your job, but you are on leave.

Nobara filled the room with ‘I-told-you-so's. Though she stopped when she saw your vacant expression.

Everything you worked for is crumbling around you. At least Sukuna is looking for the bastard who did it, right?

Sukuna kisses your cheek when he walks in. It's late and your little sister is already in bed. “I’m here. Sorry I'm late.” He settles down next to you, grabbing your hand and kisses it.

“Sukuna, we have to talk.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t bother you again. There was just a little hitch.” You shake your head. “I don’t care. I don’t want to hear about it, either.” You reply quickly with a snappish tone.

He looks confused at first then his face settles in a raised eyebrow. “Look, Sukuna, I can’t continue to endanger my sister and I anymore.”

Sukuna sighs. “You won’t be. I took care of it.”

“I’m blacklisted and almost got fired. My boss is watching me tread on thin ice. I can’t lose my job or anything else.”

He says nothing but stares at you. “I think we should break up.”

Pain shoots through your heart as the words exit your trembling mouth. You really, really, like him. Maybe even love him. “No.”

“Sukuna-”

“I said no.”

“That’s not how it works. I can’t keep doing this. I'm losing everything because of you.”

“Me? You think I did all of this?”

“No! You are connected to it! Everything all leads back to you!”

He grabs your face gently but firmly. “I took care of it, (Y/n). You’re safe with me.”

“But my future isn’t!” You stand up. “I have dreams, goals, all of it! My sister does too!”

“I’ll give you it all, for fuck’s sake!” He stands up too.

“No, Sukuna. I'm not cut out for this life. Everything you do...it isn’t me.”

“Thank God you’re not doing it then, huh?” You want to touch his face. To comfort him and take back everything you said. At the same time, you want to shake him into understanding. “Sukuna, it’s over.”

He looks shocked. Like it is finally settling in that it is over, done. The lovely chapter is finished, and the page flipped.

“I love you, (Y/n).” The air is sucked out of the room. Neither of you have said it before. You always thought you’d be the first one to admit it. “I love you too. God knows I do. But I am so tired.”

You worked so hard for it all to crash down so suddenly. Those nights of the attacks were a special breed of terrifying. You could have died that day in the bookshop. The internship is gone, your work unsalvageable. The bookshop put you on unpaid leave.

He walks over to you and presses his lips to yours. Despite what has just been said, you fall into it with passion. He presses his forehead to yours.

“You know you’re my girl, right?” You don’t say anything. “Give the kid a hug for me, will ya?”

He leaves.

You cry.

____

Two years later

As it turns out, your gut feeling was right. The shop owner fired you when your weeklong leave was up. Nobara talks to you from time to time. You finished school quickly, too. Now, you have got a local factory job. Hell, you even sell a few art pieces here and there. It all pays decently but not enough to keep your old apartment. So, you had to get a smaller one in the less savory part of town. It’s alright as long as your head’s down.

You walk home with your sister in your arms. She talks about her school and her kindergarten teacher. Apparently, she does not like her and insists on calling her teacher a witch.

You try to pay attention but it’s hard to. Lately, your mind has been all over the place since the violence in the city has gotten a bit more frequent. From what you can tell, it is all due to one man: Sukuna Ryoumen.

At least, that’s what you heard. That he has gotten so big that the police won’t touch him and that this whole thing is just punishment for those who thought they could go against him. Whatever. It has nothing to do with you.

That's what you have to remind yourself. Sukuna's dangerous. Not just to others but to you and your sister, no matter how much your sister says the opposite. That he was kind and that there was happiness. She isn't wrong about that part. But just because he showed you a part of himself, does not mean it's enough.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” You look up to see a man with scars on his face. Long grey hair and heterochromia add to his uniqueness.

“We don’t want any trouble.” You try to ease the situation and go around him. “That’s just too bad. I like the fight.”

“Ew.” Your sister looks at him with disgust. Just as he gets ready to take another step, you hear a deep voice from behind him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Kuna!” Your sister calls with a big smile on her face. The man steps aside enough for you to see Sukuna stand there with his hands in his pockets. He has more tattoos and is bigger now. He’s stronger and looks a lot meaner than he did when you knew him.

The man with the grey hair sputters. “Sukuna! Long time no see! How ya been?”

“Ew.” Your sister says again. “Yeah, ew.” Sukuna agrees with her. Not that you don’t.

“I was just-”

“Get out of my sight.” The guy doesn’t wait. He takes off down the street so fast. Something tells you he won’t get far, though.

Awkwardly, you say, “Thanks...”

“You’re my girl, right?” He asks you. Your cheeks get warm at the question, but you don't answer. Not when the answer is obvious. Your sister jumps down and runs to him. Sukuna doesn’t hesitate to pick her up. He was always soft towards her.

“Come on, I'll take you two home.” A car pulls up, a model you can’t identify. He puts your sister inside and waits for you.

With a smile and warmth, you get inside.

#ryoumen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk #jjk fanfic #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryoumen #gangster sukuna #idk what else to tag i'm awful at it

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writers-hes · 1 year ago

Text

The Blind Man

You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn’t realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps, depictions of mental illness, abusive marriage)

They finally meet.

PART 1 / PART 2

PROTECTION SERIES TAGLIST | PROTECTION MASTERLIST navigation

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

There was nothing discreet with how you dressed. You were in all black, a black veil shielding you from the onlookers. Simon sent some money to Johnny’s wife, Beth, for a proper wake. His house was filled with white flowers and proper food. It’s the least he could do, that’s what he said. You were sitting beside the widow, trying to console her.

“Johnny used to talk about you alot,” she weeped. “‘That’s my girl! That’s my daughter and she’ll go places!’ That’s what he always said. He told me how you grew up in the brothel and how you were always willing to listen to his lessons in arithmetic.” Her eyes were red from crying and all you could do was console her. “Thank you for taking care of him…for taking care of us,”

“It’s nothing, Beth,” you assured her. “He let me into his bunker when my mum died,” you recalled. “He protected me from…from…as much as he could, you know?”

God. Just how many people could you lose in this fucking lifetime? First, your father but you’ve never really weeped for him. You never knew him. Second, your mum. She took care of you with how little she had. Third, Tommy. You never heard back if he was alive or not. Your protector. Fourth, Big Johnny. He’s always been the male figure that you considered as your father. Who’s next?

“I’m grateful for him,” you managed to choke out. You asked your security guards to go somewhere else, maybe a few feet or metres from the house. You wanted privacy. “I’m just so regretful to never have seen him and now he’s gone…”

Johnny died because of a rumble with some of the newer gangs in Small Heath. Some young lads mugged him on the way home and killed him. They threw his body by the docks where they thought no one would ever see him.

Your body suddenly fills with rage. Was this the work of the Blinders? Fuck. Why would they fucking do that? Beth excuses herself from you and you nodded. Picking on the rings on your fingers, you didn’t notice who sat beside you.

“Seems like we only see each other at weddings and funerals,” You gasped, looking at the source of the familiar voice. How could you ever forget? She told you what you needed to do to survive.

“Polly,” you gasped, extending your shaky hands towards her. “How have you been?”

“I’m good,” she replied. “Who would’ve thought, huh?” she asked. She lets you clutch her hand for support. “Where’s Simon?”

“He has business in Camden Town,” you replied. “He allowed me to go but there’s security around us right now. We can’t really talk, Poll—he’s going to, he’s going to—“

“I’ve handled it,” she said. “You can talk to me as freely as you would like, okay?” You nodded.

“I’m sorry for…for leaving,” you whispered. Your voice wavers and you feel the wetness in your eyes. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Darling…”

“He threatened to kill Tommy, Arthur, and John if I didn’t obey,” you confessed. “During the…the war,” You shut your eyes to hide from Polly. Her heart aches. You’ve always been reluctant to show your emotions but you are visibly hiding now. Cowering from the fear of rejection and of humiliation from Polly Gray. “He said that-that he knew people who could finish the job.”

“Don’t hide,” she coos. Your obedience was not in vain but she’d never tell you that. She didn’t want Tommy to act impulsively and she didn’t want you to lose what you already have. “How are you? You don’t need permission from a man, you know,”

“I know,” you nod. “You always told me but…Simon is all I have now. He trusts me and I don’t want to break that trust that I’ve worked so hard on. You told me to take advantage of everything and I am,”

“What have you been doing?”

“I have trusts, bonds, and investments to my name now. Simon couldn’t take them away from me. All sealed with a document that my lawyers reviewed,” you told her. Once a prostitute, always a prostitute.

“Johnny and I taught you well then,” she nods in approval. “That’s good. We miss you,”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Where’s Ada? I’ve to thank her for the house,”

“If anything, she has you to thank. She’s been going there a lot since you left. She said she feels more at peace there,” Polly replied. “When are you leaving?”

“After the burial,” you replied. “I have to leave and go to uh, Italy with Simon,”

“For what?”

“Some…business thing.” you replied.

“He’s showing you the world?” she asked, gesturing to your clothes. You knew it. It was too much for a funeral.

“Yeah. It’s too much isn’t it? I can-I can change into something else but, he likes these clothes,” you told her. “But can I—“

“No, you look good,” she says, stopping you from your worries. “You look like who you’re supposed to be,”

You look like who you’re supposed to be. If it was any other person, you’d be offended; but this was Polly. She always told you that you didn’t belong in Small Heath. “You’re too pure to belong here forever.” She’d always say. It’s funny, you felt like you never belonged in Simon’s world no matter how hard he tried to put you in it.

You couldn’t bring yourself to ask about Tommy and his brothers. How could you? You were too scared to know the answer. If Polly didn’t mention it, it’s probably for the best.

“I do wish you’d visit us more but I know your circumstances,” she said. “I received the letter from Simon along with a cheque of a few thousand pounds,”

“Did you encash it?” you asked.

“No,” she replied. Somehow, that gave you comfort. She couldn’t be bought. “I did it because I was so worried about what could happen to you. It didn’t have any details. It just said that he’d appreciate it if we cease all contact. He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”

“No,” you shook your head. Not yet. “As unimaginable as it all is, he has never. I truly believe that he loves me, Pol. He tells me every day. He heeds everything that I say or do and has never had a mistress but I feel so terrible because I don’t love him that way,” you confessed, feeling like the weight of the world just lifted itself on your shoulders. “I’m terrible,”

“You’re not,” Polly said. “I told you to take advantage of everything but I never told you to love him, did I?”

You went home that day feeling lighter. You could always confide in Polly whenever you needed. You were just so heartbroken to know that that could probably never happen again. Your servants have left now. You told them that you didn’t need them during the night because of how small the house was. They stayed at a lodging for labourers nearby; except for the guards. They came with you wherever you go, even if it was only at a distance.

You were putting away the heavy gold earrings in the vanity in your room. It was dark, except for the lamp that you opened by the bed.

“You should really change your locks,” Your head whipped, earrings falling on the ground.

“Tommy?” you asked, rushing towards him in your most comfortable clothes. It was a long sleeved pyjama shirt that Simon owned. Tommy didn’t like it. “Oh my God. You’re here,” you breathed, shaky hands touching his arm. “You’re here…you’re here,”

“And you’re here,” he says, his voice void of emotion. He looked for the pressed flowers in the frame that usually sat on your vanity. It was gone. “You left,”

“I didn’t want to,” you said, removing your hands from him when you felt how cold he was.

“Did you plan on coming back? At all?” he asked. His rage blinds him. Why was he so cold and cruel? Why couldn’t he tell you how happy he was to see you again? He didn’t know how to handle his emotions. Years of longing…of heartbreak…of wondering if he could ever be good enough came down on him.

“Tommy?”

“It’s just a funny thing, isn’t it?” he chuckled, lighting up his cigarette. “You leave, make your way into the world, and then expect things to be the same.”

You frowned.

“It’s a funny thing. You promised to wait for me and you didn’t,” he spat. “All I ever looked at was your photo in those four years and you—“

“I didn’t want to leave, Tommy,” you whispered.

“But you did!” he exclaims. “You left me! You…you left me and married someone else. You decided that I could never grant my promises and fucked someone else. Like a…like…”

“Like what, Tommy?” you asked, stepping away from him. “Like a whore?” He’s never thought of you like that before.

“I never said that,”

“But you thought it!” You sit on your bed. “You see me like how everyone sees me. Fuck,” you shook, shielding yourself away from him. “How could you ruin this for us?”

“No, I’m—“

“Then, what? What is it, Tommy? You come in here to my house and pick a fight. You can’t blame me for the choices that I made! I had no idea if you were coming back. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Wait for me,” he demanded. “I told you to wait for me. I’ve been building us everything that we ever wanted but you were just so impatient,”

“How could I if you never wrote back?”

You looked up at him through teary eyes. You finally gave him the chance to look at you. You looked older, despite the garb that you were wearing. The sparkle was gone. You looked up at him. He’s different. Detached, cold, and emotionless. The blue eyes that used to convey so much emotion were gone. He wasn’t letting you in like he used to.

You both changed.

A shimmer on your neck catches his attention. It was his mother’s locket. You catch his eyes casting down on it.

“I forgot,” you croaked, looking away. “I’m supposed to give this to you.” He wasn’t your Tommy anymore.

“No, you should keep it,”

“It’s okay,” you nod, removing the locket from your person and putting it on the bed. It was the first time you’ve ever removed it and it felt like you were removing a leash. “You own it. You should give it to someone else. Someone that’s…that’s not me,”

“Y/N…love,” he tried but you shook his head. “It always belonged to you.”

“We’re not the same people anymore, Tom. You look at me and-and it’s how everyone else does,” you cried. “Like a whore. I’m selling my body and my future for a life like this. Right? I don’t want to have this anymore,” you said. “We grew apart and we’re older now. We’re not the same people,” You don’t love me anymore.

There was hell and there was a place below hell. It was where he was. How could he be so cruel to make you cry? How could he insinuate that you were all the same? How could you hint that he doesn’t love you anymore?

“I waited for you, Tommy. Waited for you to write back and at first, I felt…sad. Then, angry. You think I’m so disposable. So replaceable, right?” you asked. “I sent you letters every week. You always told me you’d protect me but you couldn’t even send me a letter telling me that you were alright. You couldn’t even protect Johnny!”

Maybe if he told you that it was Polly who intercepted those letters, you wouldn’t be so mad at him. Maybe you wouldn’t think that he’d abandon you so easily. Maybe you’d know that you were the only face that got him out of the tunnels. Maybe you’d know that it was your name that made him feel good. Like your name was some prayer he’s worthy enough to say every time that he felt like he was underground again. But how could he hurt you more than he already did?

“You were the one who replaced me,” Maybe you’d finally know that he loves you and that, if you could have just waited a little bit longer, you’d never have to worry if your hair was out of place.

“There was nothing to replace.”

Tommy brews in anger. To Polly, to you, and to himself. He couldn’t tell you that Polly intercepted your letters. He didn’t want to cut your relationship with her too.

“Fuck!” he roared. The barmaid comes in and asks Tommy if he was okay. He shrugs her off but seems intent on staying.

“Do you want me to sing for you?” she asked. He leans back, uninterested.

“Sure,”

“Happy or sad?” she asked.

“Uh, sad,”

“It’ll break your heart,” she says, smiling softly.

“Already broken,” he muttered. Already broken.

He sits there, unmoving. To be honest, he didn’t know why he was so mad at you. He was truly, utterly, and irrevocably alone now that you were gone. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to being alone. He prefered it sometimes. Maybe it’s because he always expected for the two of you to be alone together. Like you always were.

The fear of being unknown to you scares him. You’ve always known him—his whole heart and his whole soul. You’ve always known him but now, you’re gone. You’ll never know him the way you knew him. You were too different now and it rips through him like nothing else. You’ll never be there for him like you did. He’ll never know you like he did once. He could never pinpoint it but he hates how he was never enough for you. If only he could provide, if he could only protect, if only…

Here he thought he’d finally have a wink of sleep after four years.

You were on the phone with your husband after Tommy stormed out in anger last night. You needed to be comforted, to be told that you were right and that everyone else was wrong. It was one of the few luxuries you allowed yourself when you were with Tommy but you were positive that you’ve lost him now.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. “I can always come down there, you know,”

“I know,” you nodded. “I just miss you,”

“You do?” You could tell that that inflated his ego. “If it’s any consolation, I missed you too,”

“Do you think…do you think you can be here for the funeral?” you asked before you could even stop yourself. Why were you bringing him here when Tommy was around? Were you bringing him here out of spite? To make Tommy what? Jealous? But then again, was it a sin to ask for comfort from your husband? Tommy would never understand. He was quick to tell you what he thought of you yesterday. It was the first time he did it but you couldn’t get it out of your head. If to him, you were a whore, then a whore you’d be.

It was the only thing you were good at anyway.

“Of course,” he nodded. “This thing with Solomons is just shit work anyway. I’ll be there the day before. Will that be alright?”

“Yes,” you whispered. Are you really willing to let him inside the fort you’ve built with Tommy? “I lost my mom’s locket today and I…”

“You did?” he asked. He knew how important that locket was to you. You begged him to not take it off during your wedding. If only he knew. He bought you jewels but you never wore another necklace. “We can get you another one. Something that’s even more beautiful than the one you had.”

“I suppose so,” you sighed. “I love you,”

“I love you too.”

And you weren’t sure if you were still lying.

Simon arrives at your house sometime in the morning, before the sun rises. It was his first time seeing your house—being in your house. It was a small, shabby home with flowers. Have you always liked flowers? One of the servants opened the door for him and he entered. Poor you. Did you always live like this?

He spots you reading a book on the couch when you look up at him.

“How was your trip?” You close the book and sit upright. “I hope it wasn’t horrible,”

“I’m here now,” he sits down, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. “You’ve been on my mind since you left. Is there anything I have to know?”

“I…I talked to Polly,” you confessed. The grip that he has on your waist tightens. “But we only talked about Johnny. She said that the police aren’t doing anything to know who killed him.”

“I see,”

“But I left after that. I’ve never seen her since,” you said truthfully. “I told her that we couldn’t meet again,”

“Thank you for not breaking my trust,” he said, removing his grip on you. “You know it’s for us, right?”

“Yes, I know,” you nodded. This is wrong. This is all wrong. Why were you understanding him more? Are you only agreeing with Simon because you hated Tommy at that moment? What’s the sudden change?

You were all gathered at Johnny's funeral. Simon was beside you, holding your waist protectively. Beth was a wailing mess by the coffin. They were putting him six feet under. Last night was the last time she’ll ever see Johnny’s physical body again. You were bowing your head down, trying to keep your tears away. Johnny had been the father figure and now, he’s gone too.

The ceremony ends soon enough with Simon never letting go of your body. The Shelbys have noticed. Simon was basically hounding you so you wouldn’t have to talk to others.

“I sometimes wonder if she stopped talking to us because she wanted to or if she was forced to,” Arthur said, looking at you and your husband. Ada was looking at Polly. They were the only ones who knew. They both agreed to never tell a soul because of how messy things could be. Tommy would wage a war if it concerned you. “The question is why is she letting him?”

Tommy walks to where you were. He clears his throat to make himself known. He watches your figure become rigid. Simon was looking at him, his hand still on your waist. If he could shoot this prick’s hand for even laying a hand on you—

“I’m Tommy Shelby,” he starts. “I just decided to come by and offer a quick greeting to your wife.”

“Of course, Mr. Shelby,” Simon replied, his voice was strained and you were scared. Terrified. “Y/N didn’t tell me about you. Have you, darling?” There was a threat in his voice.

“Oh,” you nod, licking your lips. Your voice was wavering. “Mr. Shelby i-is someone I knew when I was a child, darling. He left for the war and…and…”

“We haven’t seen each other since,” he finishes. “I wish we could talk more,” Tommy added, confirming what he already thought. He didn’t spare you a glance and if he did, he didn’t make a show of it. “Mr. Coventry. Y/N,” he bowed, taking your gloved hand and kissing your knuckles. He walks away, leaving Simon’s anger and your anxiety behind him.

Simon didn’t speak to you on the way back. You tried but he only dismissed you with a cold shoulder. When you arrived home, he dragged you by the arm to the living room. You watched while the servants dispersed to give you some privacy. It was funny how they always pretended that they knew nothing.

“Do you really think I’m fucking stupid?” he roared, his loud voice vibrating the walls of your home. “You talked to Polly Gray but didn’t meet Tommy. At all,”

“You have to believe me, Simon. I never…it’s my first time seeing him again!” you pleaded, scared for Tommy’s life—scared for yours. Your arm hurts but you have bigger problems right now. What was a little bruise anyway? “I didn’t even know if he was still alive,”

“Can you shut the fuck up?” he asked. “It’s like everything that you’re saying are…are lies! I gave you everything,” he spits. “I gave you and your friends money. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be in that fucking brothel fucking some twat who could never afford everything that I’m giving you. Is that what you want? Do you want to go back there?”

“Simon,” you tried. “I swear, I didn’t know he was still alive. Polly never told me. I—“

“Liar!” he says, stepping closer to you. He grasps your chin tightly, your head unmoving at the pressure. “I bought you. Don’t you dare fucking disrespect me. I own you,”

“Simon, please…” you cried. “I swear to you I didn’t…”

“Shut up,” he spits. “You’re fucking disgusting,”

He shoves you to the floor and you cry. He leaves without looking at you. He didn’t apologise for what he did. It was the first time he showed you what you were to him. A property. You didn’t sleep that night; you were just on the balcony, looking at the docks, wondering what would’ve happened if you had just waited.

The morning comes and you are tired. Simon just woke up and decided to stay with you on the balcony.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he whispers. He wraps his arms around your shoulders. “I’m sorry for doing that. I promise to never do that again. I was just…so angry because Tommy Shelby came to us. Do you see why you’re not allowed to be here? Why I hate it when you’re in Birmingham? These fucking rats have no respect,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“Simon, you said things,” you whispered, looking up at him. Tears stained your cheeks. Everything that he said replayed inside your head over and over. What right did you have to demand his apology if he owned you? “You…”

Defeated, Simon sighs.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “You know that I’m doing this for us. I’m sorry,”

You could only nod wordlessly, blinking away the tears before they fall again. You didn’t notice the bruising on your jaw yet. You weren’t at the brothel anymore but up to what extent are you truly free? At the end of the day, you’re still weak. You still have nothing. At the end of the day, buttering him up doesn’t matter.

BIRMINGHAM, 1912

“One day, we’ll be able to buy those fancy, black cars and drive around London as much as we want.” Tommy said. He was in his work clothes, a greasy white shirt and his shaggy hair falling in different sorts of places.

“We will?”

“Yes,” he nodded, his shoulder touching yours. You were just about to work when he pulled you away. He asked if you wanted to come with him to The Cut for a little while and you agreed, finding it hard to say no to him. “I’ll get you one and then, I’ll get you a horse.”

“Don’t forget the house with a big lawn,” you giggled.

“How could I forget?” he asked. “I’ll buy that first,”

“Would you hate me if things don’t work out the way we want them to?” you asked. “I’m just wondering,”

“Why wouldn’t it? We’re staying together,” Tommy said, casting you a confused look.

“I mean, you’ll get a wife. I can’t live in the same house as her,” you said. “I don’t want to cause unnecessary problems for the two of you. I want her to be my friend too.”

“I’m not marrying,” he said. “Why should I marry? We come as a pair. Never one without the other. We won’t need anyone else,”

“That would be nice.”

“I get it,” he nodded. “You’re always my main priority. I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about all that yet. As long as you’re with me, I’ll be fine,”

“And if I’m not?”

“I won’t,”

“How are you going to do all this?” you asked. You always believed in Tommy.

“I’ll do everything,”

“You’re a man of ambition, Tommy. Did you know that you can’t have ambition without being a little dangerous?”

He ponders. He’ll deal all of his cards and fold if it came to you.

There were a million things you wanted to tell him at that moment. He does, too. He looks at you so…lovingly and so naturally that it doesn’t seem like anything anymore. Tommy really didn’t fear anything, except when it came to you. He’s scared to tell you the truth because he might change the course of things. He’s scared to never fulfil all of his promises to you. He’s scared that he’ll never amount to anything other than a greasy boy that you took care of.

He doesn’t say any of this, though, so he just smokes slow.

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

“I have to do something about it,” Tommy told his brothers, taking a swig of his Irish whiskey. He was composed but his mind was running at a speed that he couldn’t quite catch up on. Were you happy in your marriage?

“Tom, it’s better if you could just let her go,” Arthur replied. “It’s not my place, hm? But we saw them yesterday. Maybe it’s for the best,”

“It’s not,” Stoic as ever, he looked ahead.

“It’s a bad idea…” his older brother tried. “You’re fighting against a king. You’re not—“

“Why is everyone telling me that I can’t do anything? Why?” he asked. “I hardly recall asking for your permission, Arthur. You and Polly have been telling me what I can and can’t do.”

“Tommy, think about it. With the fucking guns and taking on this whole…thing with her. It’s too big. So, just let it go, eh? You’ll get yourself killed,” John added. He knew of Tommy’s affections for you. Hell, he knew what Tommy meant. John discreetly watched you and your husband. You couldn’t maintain eye contact, you couldn’t speak freely without a stutter. It was so different from the Y/N that he used to know but Tommy couldn’t be persuaded. He was living on the edge of life in the war that it didn’t matter to him if he died or not. He’s free from the fear of death; he could do whatever he wanted.

“I’m a man of ambition. You can’t have ambition without being a little dangerous,”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Tommy feels like the world was caving in. Fuck. He always hated sleeping, no matter how much he craved it. The darkness of his room and his closed eyes reminds him of the darkness of the tunnels. The walls and the tightness of the closed spaces; the unknown waiting on the other side. The lives he lost, the blood that his comrades spilled. He sits up, he hates how he couldn’t sleep because he’s always hearing the gunshots and the bombs in France. He hates being weak. Things were never the same and he so desperately wanted it to be. He couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think. He couldn’t see the faint lamp that burned on his bedside table. The ringing in his ears doesn’t subside. It was just fucking dark.

He looks over his bedside table and reaches for your picture. You always seemed to calm him no matter where he went. No matter what he does, you always seem to ground him.

“Y/N,” he whispered, taking a swig of his whiskey. As if that would just conjure you. He was sometimes convinced that your picture was an apparition of the time when everything was quieter. When his world had no guns and bombs. When you two were together. He frowns, taking his head in between his hands and cries.

If only he was stronger. If only he was rich. If only he could fulfil all of the promises he gave you. If only.

If there was anything he regretted, it was how angry he was when he went to your old house for your first meeting. He’s been waiting to be graced by your smile for years but he couldn’t control the anger that brewed inside him. He was so guarded after the war. But those guards seem to crumble around you, leaving him defenceless and vulnerable like a child.

A knock on his door arouses him. It was currently just before the sunrise; that hazy blue period that calms him before everyone else wakes. He checked from his window outside but there was nothing. Another knock comes and he sighs, going downstairs to check. He puts his gun behind him. He opens the door and it reveals you.

You were shaking like a leaf when his eyes landed on your figure.

“I don’t know…where else to…to go,” you whispered. He goes out and looks around to make sure that no one’s there. When the coast is clear, he takes your hand and guides you to the living room. He was hoping that no one heard anything.

“Do you need anything?” he asked.

“Just…water, please,”

“Did you walk all the way?”

“Yeah,” he hears you say while he pours you a glass. “Sorry for disturbing you,”

“It’s alright,” he tells you, giving you the glass.

“Yeah,” you replied, drinking the water to avoid any sort of communication with your old friend. “Tommy?”

“Hm?” he asked, sitting in front of you and it’s so different it hurts. He used to sit beside you, knee to knee. He had to blink multiple times to clear his vision—to make sure that you were actually there. “What brings you here?”

“I…I…” you couldn’t say a single word before you broke into tears. It was then when Tommy actually looked at you, the bruising on your chin, your defeated stance. He trembles in anger but forces himself to let it subside and comfort you. “S-sorry,”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, love,” he whispers, sitting beside you this time and rubbing circles on your back. “You don’t have to talk about it,”

“Would you still…would you still protect me?” you asked and you were aware of how selfish you sounded. “You’re right. I’m a-a whore,” you chuckled, looking away from him. “I know I’m being unfair…marrying Simon and then coming here…”

It appals him for you to think that he’ll ever stop protecting you. It disturbs him for letting you think that way because of one argument.

Your chin was quivering as you tried to form a coherent sentence.

“I thought…I thought I was free but he laid a hand on me,” you tried. “Gripped my chin and called me his property,”

You told yourself that it wasn’t Tommy’s fault.

“All because you talked to me during the funeral,” you whispered. You couldn’t stop yourself and Tommy couldn’t stop himself from the emotions that linger. It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault that you loved him.

“Let’s run away,” It’s all his fault. All his fault that he loved you.

“Tommy…” you whispered, shaking your head. “Did you know…did you know why I stopped talking to you?” you asked him. He didn’t. Maybe the reason why he’s so angry with you was because he didn’t know. “When you were in France, he told me that if I continue any form of communication with the Shelbys…he’ll locate you and your brothers and have the three of you killed.” You reveal to him. “You always said you’ll protect me but I wanted to protect you too.”

Your broken voice was something that he’ll never forget. Your fragile figure was something that he’ll never remove from his brain. You were…miserable. How could you let yourself be miserable for his sake? How could Simon let you cry? How could he break you? You were so strong, the strongest he’s ever known.

“I will kill him,”

“Tommy, no,” you whimpered. “I’m here to tell you that…that the best way to protect me is to forget about me,”

“You can’t do that to me,” Tommy replied, his voice stern. He was trying so, so hard. “Not when I waited to come home for four years.”

“It’s the best way,” you pleaded. “You can go start a family or…or do something else but if you really want to protect me, you’ll forget about me,”

You were so defeated, your figure curled to your heart like you were protecting yourself from everyone. Tommy could see the stutter of your body while you tried to control everything.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he tried, blinking the tears away but failing. His resolve was crumbling; popping the joints on his knuckles to ground him. It was then he noticed your nail beds, peeled and crusted with dried blood. You must have been thinking about it for so long. “You’re not giving me a choice here, love,” You must have been hurting.

“He’ll kill you, Tom. I wouldn’t be able to take it if I am the reason why your body’s thrown at The Cut.” you told him. “I let you go once without knowing for sure that you��ll come back alive. I’ll make sure that this time, you are.”

“So that’s it, eh?” he asked. “Your bastard husband threatens my life and you let him control you.” he licks his lips.

“I’m sorry, Tom,” you told him. “That's all I could do. You’re a man…you could have the world. I’m a woman and I can’t have anything unless I make it. This is me making it.” This is me making sure that I’ll never have to think about you.

You left in the wee hours of the morning and Tommy lets you go without a fight. He thought that he was the one doing the protecting, when you’ve been protecting him all along. You were his most tender wound. Battle scars from France don't compare to the pain he’s feeling in the darkness of the house. Should he run after you? Should he heed your advice? What if he kills Simon? Will you be free then?

“Her husband’s dealing with Alfie Solomons,” he tells everyone during a family meeting. “I’ll deal with Solomons myself,”

“You’re waging a war that is bigger than all of us, Tommy,” Arthur said.

“I’m not asking for approval,” he only replied, his voice was monotonous; suppressing his emotions as much as he could. He swallows. “Information about Y/N’s home life has reached me. She told me that the best way to protect her is to forget about her.” He confessed.

“Well, shit,” Ada replied. “Surely…”

“Surely, I won’t.” he said, voice stern and determined. “I’ll deal all of my cards if I have to. Do you get that?”

“Tommy, it’s a bad idea. She’s right. With the fucking inspector on our throats and Simon Coventry…you’ll get yourself killed.”

“I have decided,”

“Then, what’s all of this for, then?”

“Just letting you know.” he says, looking at everyone’s face of disapproval.

When he exits the Garrison, Polly runs after him. She was determined to let him let you go for your safety. It was a sticky situation that Tommy was putting himself in. A semblance of power doesn’t mean that he’s powerful but he couldn’t seem to understand that.

“Tommy, do you want to save her because you want to or is it because you have to prove yourself to you?” she asked him, grasping his arm.

“Polly—“

“Do you love her because you do or do you only think you do because you need her? It’s alright to let her go, Tom. You have to realise that maybe she’s correct,” she reasoned. “The more you move, the more she’s constricted—“

“You took her away from me, Polly,” he spits. “How can I not love her when I need her beside me to even get a wink of sleep? Her picture was all I looked at in France. She is the reason why I’m alive—why I’m here. You took her away from me and I am taking her back. Does that look like love to you?” he demanded, shaking her arm away.

“You want to know what blinds a man as smart as you, Tom? Love,” she says. “You’re making things—“

“So I am blind,” he shrugs. “I vowed to protect her and that is a vow that I’ll take to the grave with me, Pol. You could help or not. It wouldn’t matter either way but you owe it to me to try. At least,”

A beat passes, Polly doesn’t speak. He nods to excuse himself, walking away as the blind man.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I’m so glad you’re still here.

Don’t forget to reblog / leave a comment if you liked it!

PART 4

TAGLIST: @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius @trixie23 @everythingelseisextra @majesticcmey @liveat1am @dumb-wh @denabp16 @yvonna-chan @goldensunflowe-r @therosabel @hunnibearrr @dazecrea @daddyslittleattentionwhore @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @dang-shawty-okay @dasia21 @tsenthusiast1920 @aces-tattooartist @panda-luminary @ttaechi @spencerrxids @i-heart-food @fudge13 @affabletimelady @heartcereql @ce1iat @notalxx @1800-queen-trash

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #protection!tommy

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call-sign-shark · 9 months ago

Text

Little Lamb part. 1|| Arthur Shelby x Reader x OFC

Summary: They came into your life when you were desperate, convinced no one would ever want you and yet you found yourself not one, but two lovers madly infatuated with you: The infamous Arthur Shelby and his young wife.(Yandere! Arthur Shelby x Reader x Yandere!OFC)

TW: (for the entire short series) Toxic dynamic, polyamory relationship, murders, torture, graphic depiction of violence, heavy allusion to smut, obsessive behavior, possessive!lovers, angst and horror. Inspired by the song The Things I Do For Love by Bludnymph.

Words: 1.4k

Notes:

✞ Since I'm stuck with Tangled Desires' new chapter I thought about taking a break to write a very short three-part story (no more than 1.5k per part). All is already written and it will be posted during the week. It 100% can be read as a stand alone.

✞ Heaven in Reader in the ongoing Arthur x You series Heaven in Your Eyes.

NEXT PART

Love had never been kind to you. The statement might sounded tough but so was the truth. You were either too shy to make the first move, or when you did you undeniably ended up with your heart crushed because you were too nice and, your relatives said, too… understanding. Too soft for this world and painfully too weak for Small Heath. When you left your hometown to start your new barmaid life at the Garrison pub, desperately looking for a job and a new start in life, all your friends had laughed at you: how could a meek little lamb like you could willingly throw herself in this hell, where hungry and violent wolves lurked in every corner, ready to tear her in millions pieces? Still, you paid no heed to their warning and left everything and everyone behind you, fueled by the firm will to prove them wrong.

Surprisingly enough, working at the Garrison had done some good to you despite spending your first days shaking like a leaf each time a loud man talked to you. This, but also hiding behind Harry when the Shelby brothers flooded the place with their piercing blue eyes and their sharp caps. Unfortunately, you had to learn the entirety of the job and it involved plucking up the courage to pour them their drink. They merely noticed you, far too concerned by whatever shady business they were talking about until scrapped but tender fingers brushed against your skin. Slightly jumping, you raised your gaze towards their owner and was quickly met with steel blue iris overhung by dark lashes. "Leave the bottle, love." The oldest of the brotherhood said, gently taking the whiskey from your hand before offering you a surprisingly charming smile.

"You're welcome, Mr. Shelby." Did you manage to reply without any stuttering? No, you didn't but you were already surprised by your ability to actually produce a sound when faced with certainly the most ruthless of these gangsters. You turned your heels, Arthur's eyes burning your back as you walked to another table.

As weeks passed, you grew up more confident and started to navigate more easily in this cursed city. In Birmingham, working as a barmaid was the same as patching up souls: exhausted working-class men, vile gangsters, drunkards, or sad men all found a bit of happiness in the bottom of their glass and in the waitress’ warm smile. Most of your life your softness has been deemed a weakness but here, in the crowded Garrison, your softness wasn’t one. It was a gift that mended the hearts of your clients, and the more you soothed these troubled souls, the more the weight of your own broken heart was alleviated.

You never exchanged more than a few words with Arthur Shelby, but the fact he always asked you to serve him his drinks and thanked you with a pet name was enough for you to feel like a schoolgirl noticed by one of the popular boys around. Yeah, it sounded stupid even in your head but you couldn't help.

Tonight had started the same as ever: you put the whiskey glass on the table and proceeded to walk away when, suddenly, his hand kept you from doing so. With his long fingers wrapped around your wrist, blood still stuck under his nails, the gangster's baritone voice purred “A sweet little lamb you are, ay.” He punctuated his sentence with a seductive wink that made your heart beat faster than usual. “And a fucking pretty one too... How's the night going?"

"Terrible, Harry's in such a bad mood! I haven't found the time to sit and rest for five minutes -- My feet hurt so much I feel like I've walked miles." You said, you joked, hating the idea of whining.

"Why don't ya sit now, little Lamb?" Arthur raised a brow, his thin lips hid behind the whiskey glass.

"Because I'll get scolded, silly!"

Arthur didn't think twice -- he never did actually. His grip strengthened a little bit more around your wrist and, without the slightest warning, he pulled you until you tripped on your own feet and fell right on him. As nimble and quick as a cat, the lanky gangster caught you in his arms and made you comfortably sit on his lap.

"Ar-Arthur?!" You hiccuped, eyes wide open and cheeks flushing red.

"Hell, no one's gonna scold ya as long as ya stay in me arms, ay!"

Quickly swept away, your surprise turned into the most irresistible chuckle he had heard for a while. "Only five minutes alright?"

"Nah." Arthur snapped his fingers to get Harry's attention and raised his hoarse voice, "She's taking her night off to drink with me, mate." He shot you a quick glance and, with his smile growing wider, put on a show "By order of the Peaky Blinders!"

No matter how violent people said he was, you couldn’t help but find yourself enthralled by his dangerous aura and carnivorous smile. Moreover, it was needless to say that he never exhibited any of these brutal behaviors with you -- Quite the contrary, you found a loyal guardian in him, who would walk you home each night to ensure you were safe.

"Y/N, you better forget about him right now... You're really going to be in trouble" Harry stated after he noticed that you were dolling you up before the gangster came, rearranging your hair and putting on some awfully expensive lipstick you had brought earlier.

"Is my taste in men that bad for you to worry?" Your light reply didn't make him laugh, quite the contrary.

"I'm not joking! I don't want you to get fucking killed!"

"Killed? Someone's very pessimistic. Everything will be fine, Arthur would never hurt me okay?" You reassured him with the softest voice you could before your attention shifted to the gangster, who had just arrived.

Arthur noticed the lipstick and did seem to like it considering how his steel-blue eyes lingered far longer on your mouth when you talked to him, wondering how beautiful your red lips would look tightly wrapped around his cock but he didn't let his intrusive thoughts show, "Hey little lamb. I've got someth' to ask you."

"Anything?" You early replied, your smile beaming and your eyes shining.

"Apart from my usual whiskey, I'd like something else. There's a bottle of red wine hidden under the bar, I'd like ya to pour one glass of it, I'll be right back."

A glass of wine? Your heart missed a beat at the realization that he had remembered the day you told him you liked red wine. Butterflies flapped their wings in your stomach, convinced that maybe he was finally going to ask you out, you did as he said and, when done, carefully placed the two glasses on the wooden counter. When his booming voice echoed in the pub again, you raised your eyes and smiled, ready to call him but your voice got stuck in your throat.

No.

As you stood there, frozen in shock, your heart seemed to fracture into a thousand tiny pieces at the sight before you. The man you had secretly longed for, the one who had occupied your every thought and fueled your every feverish dream, was accompanied by a young and stunning lass with her arm tightly wrapped around his. Each caress exchanged between Arthur and her, each whispered word, felt like a betrayal. In that moment suspended in time, tears threatened to spill from your eyes. Of course, you already took notice of the wedding ring on his finger, its shining gold shining brighter than the other silver ones he was always wearing but you had tricked yourself into thinking it was only a jewel. After all, he wouldn't have flirted with you if he was married right? That was what you kept telling yourself, and even not entirely convinced you hoped it would eventually turn out to be true if you believed in it strong enough. He was married, here was what was true. Not only he was married, but the woman by his side was so resplendent with her angel face, her long snow-white hair, and her revealing red dress that your heart felt cold.

"So, you are the little lamb, aren't you?" Her mermaid-like voice emphasized the pet name Arthur had given you, snatching you from your numbness. All the confidence you had gained these past months vanished with the sole power of the eerie frost of her eyes, silently telling you that she knew everything. Impatiently waiting for your reply, her dagger-shaped and perfectly polished nails tapped against the wood, their menacing clicking song making another awful realization blossom in your mind.

Harry didn't think about Arthur when he said you would end up killed. He thought about her.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia0000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @justrainandcoffee @kishie8 @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @he6rtshaker @bemyqueenofdarkness @cljordan-imperium @cjarbo @rysko @red-riding-wood

#arthur shelby #Yandere x reader #arthur shelby x reader #Peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #Arthur shelby x oc #Arthur shelby x you #arthur shelby jr #arthur shelby x y/n #Arthur shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #Arthur shelby x ofc #Heaven Shelby #peaky blinders x reader #Paul anderson #oc x reader

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libby-for-life · 8 months ago

Note

I just had one of those 3am thoughts pop in my head.

What if we had a yandere hazbin hotel for adam oneshot pretty please

(No clue how this pops in my head, but it did, and I'm sorry if you don't have much to go off on)

The whole hotel yandere for Adam? Well, for this to work, it's going to be using my version of Adam. For anyone who hasn't read Adam Dies, in that story, he's s*xually abused by someone in Heaven. He hasn't got to the part where he's healed from that yet.

Adam laughed as his head popped up under the pile of blankets. The hotel was having a movie night and everyone was happy to join in. Even Alastor, though grumpy, was willing to join after Adam begged at him.

"Fine, little lamb. But don't think this is going to be a routine for me. I don't like movies."

Soon, everyone was cuddled around him. Lucifer was sitting in his lap, much to everyone's glares. Husk and Angel Dust were on either side of him, Charlie and Vaggie at his feet, and Niffty sitting on his shoulder. Alastor despised touch so he was more than content to sit on a nearby chair and sip an unknown substance out of a tea cup.

He smiled when he felt several wandering hands rub him affectionately. The residents were so friendly with him! He much preferred this then to what they were like before.

The movie was about some gangsters breaking into a bank. Not really Adam’s cup of tea, but he was still interested in the intricate workings of a gang.

It wasn't long before the movie was over and Adam had fallen asleep.

"Aw. Look who's sleepy~." Lucifer cooed, watching Adam’s head fall onto Angel Dust's shoulder. "Must have had a tough day." The spider commented, smiling gently at the sleeping lamb.

"Yeah, the lamb is cute like this," Husk grumbled but his smile said otherwise.

"Of course, my dear."

"You did grab...him, right?" Charlie asked Alastor in a strange tone. It sounded too foreboding for the usual cheerful girl.

Everyone looked at her with a similar expression. The new resident, Larz, had been constantly flirting with Adam. When he first came, everyone was on different levels of enthusiasm. Charlie was happy that the hotel had a new resident, especially after Pentiouse died. But then, Larz had set his sights on Adam and that set everyone's hackles off. Everyone in the hotel would glare at the demon who would brazenly touch Adam despite how uncomfortable it made the lamb demon.

The last straw was when that demon tried to kiss Adam making the lamb demon break down and cry. The poor thing was still too traumatized to have that kind of relationship.

It was time for Larz to go. Alastor whisked him to the Hotel's dungeons and they told Adam that Larz would no longer be joining the hotel.

Adam looked relieved and sad at the same time. "I didn't mean to run him off..." He looked at Charlie with his big gold eyes and it made her heart melt. He was so pretty.

"You didn't run him off, Adam," Vaggie said with a smile that Adam returned hesitantly. "He left on his own. He was never serious about redemption to begin with."

"Besides," Alastor said. "That boy didn't know the meaning of 'no.'"

Before Adam could ask any more questions, Niffty suggested a movie night and that's where they were at this moment.

Everyone gave the sleeping demon a loving obsessed look.

Adam was theirs. It seemed Larz would need a reminder of that before they silenced him. Permanently.

#hazbin hotel #adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #send asks

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skyfallslayer · 6 months ago

Text

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter Three

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: An Increasingly concerned Nancy looks for Barb and finds out what Jonathan’s been up to. The boys pair up with El for an investigation. Joyce is convinced that Will and Steph are trying to talk to her. Meanwhile, Steve feels like someone’s watching his every move.

🎲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: 15,209 (Oh, lord)

🎲Date: 05/27/24

🎲Warnings: Angst; Heavy Language & Dialogue; References To Broken Friendship; Talks of Kidnapping; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Talks of Mental Health Issues; Bullying of All Kinds; Physical Fighting; Lying; "Death"; Crying (Lots of it); Brief Mention of Corpses; Gun Use; Implied Unloving Parents; Will & Steph's Mental Strain - Joyce's Too; Hopper Being a Great Cop & A Total Mess; Dustin Being a Gangster & A Total Mess; Steve's 'Asshole Era'; Steve's Emotional Damage. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

-This also contains me not knowing how the fuck the Upside Down works despite so much research.-

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: So… this is a very long, very intense one. Very emotional too. Hopefully y'all are ready for this. I notice a lot of you readers are spitting out theories and I can't help but love them. But unfortunately I have to stay silent and let you guess wait 🤭. While rewatching this episode, I totally forgot how fucking good of an actress Winona Ryder is. Seriously, rewatch the scenes with her and the lights again and you'll see. Any who, Happy Memorial Day everyone! Enjoy!

Steve practically had to “bully” Tommy into taking his girlfriend home last night. It was hard for him to make eye contact with her after their argument – A real argument, not just some mindless bickering they’ve done in the past that doesn’t pack much heat, but a real, real argument – and when she came back to his room only a few minutes later telling him that Barb must have left already and needed a ride, he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

Was this making him feel and look like a coward? Probably. But it’s not like he didn’t want to risk having another eye opening conversation with her again.

Eye opening, my ass. There was no “eye opening”. I’m just being paranoid. But was he though?

Nancy, oh, sweet Nancy, always talked about how she was aiming for journalism as her major. For a while, to be honest, he couldn’t really see it. Sure, curiosity was practically tattooed on her heart, but the months they’ve been dating he hasn’t seen anything else that screams “I’m a Journalist”.

That was until last night.

He’s not sure why he never put that box away after their friendship ended, he doesn’t know why he didn’t just stuff it into his closet or under his bed, but the fact that someone had found it in his spot he called “out of sight, out of mind” shocked him. The little box that could fit under his dresser, completely oblivious to anyone who stands next to it. Of course out of all the days for someone to finally have spotted it was the day he brought his girlfriend to his home (Still, it might have been better for her to find it rather than his parents. They sure were… nosy).

And of course she would be the one to break him down when he was trying to forget, forget because it was the best option here.

And his girlfriend was smart, one of the traits he most admired, and she could read through his lies most of the time, a trait he hates. Loathe. But… did he really think he could have avoided all this? That once he put a lid on their friendship she would suddenly vanish? Every single thing about Stephanie Henderson would be forgotten? That was the plan, the “dream” so to speak. I guess dreams don’t always stay dreams unless you put work into them.

“So who is she to you?” Nancy asked, standing up and flashing the memorabilia at him.

She was just… just some kid he knew since they were five. Nothing more than that, It shouldn’t be more than that. She was just some girl that had confidence radiating out of her as they lock pinkies and swore–

“I’m not jealous. I’m just curious.” Nancy replies, honestly. She takes another look at the photos in her hand before looking back at him. “I mean, if she isn’t your friend anymore, then why do you hang on to all this stuff? Or better question–”

“Nancy, stop, it’s just–”

“Why did you break it off?”

His brain short circuits again. “What?”

“I said, ‘Why did you break it off?’ I mean…” She flips through some of the photos he has, memorized. “From what I see, you two remind me of Barb and I. You two look like you were tied at the hip. So why break it off?”

Because he had to. He needed to. God knows if he didn’t, her and her family would be… Jeez. He could barely remember it, not wanting to remember it.

The memory was blurry. So blurry. Maybe it was the many hits in the head for his shitty memory, or maybe he was really, really trying not to remember it.

What was his parents planning on doing again that made him so… scared?

“Look, I just want to understand you. I mean, every time I think I have you figured out you throw me through a loop.” She gives him a reassuring look as she picks up the box, shuffling whatever was remaining around. “I mean, from what I see, you seem like a completely different person then. I just wonder if it’s a good thing or a bad–”

No… no. He still doesn’t understand what she meant. He hasn’t “changed”. He’s still the same person since the day he was born. What was she even getting that from? A couple glances at some photos gave her a new impression of him? There’s no way. It’s laughable. It’s totally laughable. Everything that’s happened between him and Henderson was totally laughab–

“‘CAUSE IT WAS MY FAULT!! OKAY?!” Steve snaps, startling them both (He can’t believe he just lost his cool like that). He swallows again, head spinning at the memories (Why did he fucking leave the box right there?). “I just… there was an incident and… it… shaped my decision, okay? But it didn’t involve me or her with a gun, it was… s-someone else. Someone I know. I don’t know why I’m holding onto it, I…”

That certainly wasn’t laughable.

Sometimes that memory is hazy, which he preferred, but the other times it was crystal clear. Too clear. Just a heated exchange between him and someone else just before it went to shit. He still remembers the pain in his bicep, the wind feeling like it was getting knocked out of him with someone’s loud scream. Then came the sinking realization that Henderson wasn’t bouncing up to her feet like he did.

It still… fucks with him sometimes. Taunting. Haunting. Torturing.

Nancy breaks eye contact, and only reverses it when she gathers the right words. “Look, Steve, I’m sorry I intruded, I probably shouldn’t have but… I’m just trying to understand you.”

Steve shakes his head, still confused. “I-I…” He shrugs, and crosses his arms defensibly. “What’s there to understand?”

Exactly. There’s nothing. N-O-T-H-I-N-G. Nothing. She doesn’t need to go digging around Pandora’s box.

But Nancy looked at him with eyes full of pity and took another step closer. “I don’t know what the reason was for you two to stop being friends, but all I know, from what I gathered, she wasn’t the one to end it.” She places Steph’s flier on his chest that he subconsciously grabbed, and said one last thing before leaving his room. And that was,

“Maybe there was a good reason for you to end it, but that’s not an excuse for you to stop being who you really are.”

But I haven’t changed. I’ve been the same person since I was born. Even his own gut coiled at his denial. The heaven’s beyond were probably busting a lung. Hell was shaking its head. He just keeps telling himself that lie and maybe it’ll come true one day.

Yeah, right.

This boy’s been telling himself that for almost two years now and hasn’t even sunk in yet.

Steve sighs, rolling in his bed to face his alarm clock; The red numbers glaring at him. It hadn’t even gone off yet, he still has about an hour but…

Another sigh. School. Right.

He didn’t even feel like going, too mentally exhausted from staying up pretty much all night, completely alone with his thoughts – His very dangerous, troubling thoughts. He didn’t want to go, but his parents were going to be home any minute now from their trip and were not going to be happy if they saw him just lying around. They were surely going to berate him for missing a day of learning. Except...

Fuck. Going wasn’t an option, his brain hurts and his body was dragging and he really, really didn’t want to see Nancy’s pitiful eyes, or listen to Tommy’s mocking, or Carol’s sexified comments. Fuck, no. Fuck.

Where can he hide out for the next eight hours? He started putting what was left of brain together as he threw something on, not even trying to dress to impress today, and snagged his precious car keys. He is about a foot outside his bedroom when something tells him to stop. His chocolate eyes stare at the box on the end of his bed, something deep inside tells him not to leave it unoccupied.

He swallows, wanting to tell his subconscious to fuck off and leave him be, but…

“Fuck it.” He races back over, making sure the lid was on before taking it with him.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

It’s been… how many days since then? They don’t know. They stopped counting every time they ran into trouble. Like… right now. Traumatized by the beast pulling an innocent woman into the Harringtons’ pool and violating her before coming after them. They were lucky to have some kind of head start or otherwise they might have been goners. But–

Jesus. It was getting hard to breathe in this place, the cold weather was getting to them too.

Eventually, miraculously, they had escaped from their predator when their bodies finally gave out.

“Fuck.” Stephanie gasped as the two of them collapsed in someone’s backyard. They both sat on their hands and knees, a line of sweat dripping off their icy noses. She sniffles and pants, her breath being seen in the air. “This is getting ridiculous.”

It really, really was. They can’t even take a break without worrying if that thing would come after them.

How am I supposed to figure out how to get out of here if I can’t even stop to think? She sits back on her news, frowning. “Why does it keep coming after us?”

Will sneezes, and sniffles before resting his body against the side of the random house. He starts fiddling with his frigiding fingers, worried if he was going to say something wrong. “I don’t think this time it was. It looks like it was attacking someone else.”

“That’s true.” She sighs, taking her cap off for a second to rest. “However, we either were at the wrong place at the wrong time, or that thing was following us and grabbed the first prey it saw.”

He nods. “Yeah. But that doesn’t explain where the person came from. Does… that mean we aren’t the only people here?”

“I don’t know.” Are there actually more people here? “I mean, I guess on the bright side, if more people are going missing someone’s gotta know what’s going on, right?”

That honestly didn’t cross her mind at all while being here. She was so worried about keeping herself and especially Will alive that she didn’t think about what was going on on the other side. How was her family reacting? His family too? And what about the town? Did the police actually give a fuck this time?

I really hope it’s Hopper. He seems like the only one who gave shit last time. Stephanie prays he’s on her case as she subconsciously tries to grab the chain around her neck, only to find nothing. Her heart sinks as she looks down and feels around the front of her shirt.

“Shit.” She says, dreadfully. Did she really lose her–

“What?” Will replies, concerned.

“Uh, I just…” Fuck. “I just uh, lost my necklace.” She frowns again. “I didn’t even realize it.”

Now it was his turn to look sad (I guess you could say he was just copying her expression). “We can go look for it if you like.”

She’s already shaking his head. “No. It’s okay. I could have lost it on the first day here without realizing it.”

“Can you replace it?”

“It’s… I don’t know. It was a gift.” She looks over at him, his expression seems so broken over her confession. “It’s okay, Will. It’s not a big deal.”

“I know, but still.”

Stephanie couldn’t help but crack a small smile on her peach lips, and ruffle the boy’s hair. “Don’t ever change, kid. You’ve got a good little heart.” That seemed to do the trick because the boy blushed and seemed all proud of himself.

“Do you think it’s safe to rest here for a bit?” Will asked, as she looked around.

“Yeah.” She nods. “I think we’ll be fine. How about you pull out the blanket?”

They both shrug their backpacks off, and keep their guns by their sides pointed safely away; Will unrolls the blanket they took from her house and scoots closer. Steph tucks the fabric under their feet before the boy snuggles up to her side. Dying from the cold was off the menu for the both of them. For most of the time they stayed quiet, controlling their breathing and rubbing their cold hands in their laps.

“There’s something I don’t understand though.” Will blurted out. I guess this was the thought that came to mind in the moment of silence.

“And what’s that?” The older girl asked, sparing him a glance.

“If that thing is supposed to… you know, kill people, then why bring them here?” He stares up at her nervously. “Why not just kill us in our world? Why the extra hassle to bring us here?”

Her eyes widened slightly, those words hitting her like a truck. “That’s… a good question.” A really good question. It was something else she hasn’t thought about either. If the beast could go between worlds, why bring them here for the kill?

Will must have noticed the wheels turning in the girls head and looks down hopelessly. “It’s going to be hard for people to find us then, right?”

Stephanie says nothing, and gnaws on her bottom lip because he’s right. If they’re stuck in another world then…

How are their loved ones going to know?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

When Jonathan woke up the next day he wasn’t expecting his mother to be leaving before he did. “Mom? Where are you going?” He asked, as she stopped upon hearing him speak.

“Oh, I’m going to town. I’m going to pick up a few things.” She replies, putting her belongings into her purse. “I was… you know, thinking about maybe getting some stuff Will likes to eat so he can have it when he gets home. Or, you know–”

“Mom?”

“And maybe a new phone? Our old one’s obviously not fine, so–”

“Mom?” Jonathan tries again, getting a hum. “You sure you’re okay going by yourself? I can miss school again if you don’t feel comfortable yet.”

“No, no, don’t do that. Go… I just need to get out of the house. I’ve been stuck in here for a few days.” Joyce replies, reassuring her oldest. “I’ll be okay.”

“Okay.” He nods. “But if something happens just… call the school and I’ll be there.”

“Okay.” She says, giving her a quick hug. “Thank you, sweetie. I’ll see you later.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

In the early morning at the Wheeler’s house, the boys were planning a mission to finally figure out what happened to their friends.

“We just tell our parents we have AV Club after school. That’ll give us at least a few hours for Operation Mirkwood.” Mike explains, the three of them gathered around the upside down D&D board.

“You seriously think that the weirdo knows where Will and Steph are?” Lucas said, making the other boy eye roll.

“Just trust me on this, okay? Did you get the supplies?”

“Yeah.” He nods, and shows off what he’s got. “Binoculars... from ‘Nam. Army knife... also from ‘Nam. Hammer, camouflage bandana…” He grins. “And the wrist rocket.”

Dustin looks at him strangely, almost laughing. “You’re gonna take out the Demogorgon with a slingshot?”

“First of all, it’s a wrist rocket. And second of all, the Demogorgon’s not real. It’s made up. But if there is something out there, I’m gonna shoot it in the eye–” Lucas snaps the rubber and startles his friend. “And blind it.”

“Dustin, what did you get?” Mike asked, trying to get straight to the point.

“Well, alrighty.” Dustin starts pouring stuff out of his bag, also proud of what he grabbed (Which is totally not what Mike told him to bring). “So, we’ve got... Nutty Bars, Bazooka, Pez, Smarties, Pringles, Nilla Wafers, apple, banana, and trail mix.”

“Seriously?” Lucas said, disappointed.

“We need energy for our travels. For stamina. And besides, why do we even need weapons anyway?” He points to the girl on the couch. “We have her.”

“She shut one door!”

“With her mind! Are you kidding me? That’s insane!” Dustin could almost laugh with all the stuff he could think of about her powers. “Imagine all the other cool stuff she could do. Like…” He quickly looks around and grabs a giant toy version of the Millennium Falcon. “I bet that she could make this fly!” He stands in front of El and holds it out. “Hey. Hey. Okay, concentrate. Okay?” He lets go of the toy that quickly drops to the floor. “Okay, one more time. Okay. Use your powers, okay?”

“Idiot.” Lucas mumbles once the toy drops to the floor again.

Mike sighs. “She’s not a dog!” He says, taking it away from him.

“Boys!” Karen calls out from above. “Time for school!”

He crouches down in front of Eleven as the rest of his friends make their way up stairs. “Just stay down here. Don’t make any noise, and don’t leave. If you get hungry, eat Dustin’s snacks, okay?”

“Michael!”

“Coming!” Why must he be rushed? “You know those power lines?”

“Power lines?” El asked, confused.

“Yeah. The ones behind my house?”

“Yes.”

“Meet us there, after school.”

“After school?”

“Yeah, 3:15.” It took a second for Mike to realize that she didn’t understand. “Ah. Hang on.” He unstraps his watch and ties around her own wrist. “When the numbers read three-one-five, meet us there.”

“‘Three-one-five’.” She repeats.

He nods. “Yeah. Three-one-five.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

“Did you get any rest?”

Her tired blue eyes looked back at him, his face scrunched up in concern for the girl that almost tripped two seconds ago. And to answer his question, it was ‘no’. Their little rest had turned into sleep, but once again she couldn’t dare close her eyes with the beast lurking somewhere (She’s honestly surprised she’s still standing at this point).

“Yeah, I got a little.” She said, hoping that sounded convincing.

Will narrows his eyes and steps in front of her, stopping them from walking any further. “No you didn’t.”

“Will–”

“Why aren’t you getting any sleep?”

She sucks in a breath. Guess there was no point in arguing with a twelve year old. “Because I’m keeping an eye out.” She tries taking a step around him but he follows.

“That’s bullshit.” He replies, shocking her (She’s honestly heard him cuss before. Which is ironic since he hangs out with three boys that act like cussing is their first language).

“Will, it’s true. I’m keeping an eye out.”

“Yeah, I understand. But you can’t keep missing sleep because of that.”

“Someone’s got to protect you. Just like I promise.”

“Well how are you supposed to do that when you can barely stand?” That seemed to strike a nerve. “Can you just… next time we sleep, I’ll watch and you actually sleep.”

“Will–”

“And, if I hear something, I’ll wake you up immediately. How’s that?”

Well… she can’t say no to that face. She sighs. “Okay. I’ll sleep.” She replies, getting him to smile. “But you wake me up if you hear anything, okay? Don’t you even think about doing the opposite and handling it yourself. I don’t want you to wound up hurt or dead. Got it?”

“Got it.”

The two of them continued their unwanted detour that ended up being Hawkins’ little downtown. This place looked more like the apocalypse than their neighbourhoods. Dark, abandoned, quiet and completely trashed. It seemed a little scarier to walk around than the previous routes they took.

“Maybe we can hide out somewhere here?” Will asked, as they stopped at an intersection to look around.

“Possibly. If anything’s open we can. I want to avoid making too much ruckus in case that’s what attracts the monster.” Steph said, thinking.

They walked slowly and carefully by each store, peeking inside to see if anything got their attention. Stephanie blissfully sighs upon seeing a familiar sign and points.

“Dude, I kill for some chicken parmesan right now.” She says, smiling at the thought of eating Italian at ‘Enzo’s’.

“Hmm, meatball’s sounds good. But I think I really want my mom’s Sloppy Joes.” Will admits, and can already picture it in front of him.

“Sloppy Joes are awesome too. I wouldn’t mind eating that when I get back either. Then Enzo’s.”

“Totally Enzo’s.” He chuckles. “Uh, so when we do get out of here, how do we explain this to someone?”

“What? This?” She gestures to the open air. “You mean that telling the authorities that we were abducted by an eight foot tall creature with just a mouth and brought to a creepier version of Hawkins doesn’t sound truthful?”

He makes a face. “I… I don’t know. They might think we’re crazy.”

“Crazy, but it’s true.” She shrugs. “I really do wonder how we’re going to explain this.”

“I hope my mom contacted Chief Hopper. I know they were good friends growing up, I’m sure he believes her.”

“I hope it’s him, I don’t really like some of the people he works with.”

Will tilts his head, confused. “You don’t like cops?”

“No, I don’t certain cops here. I don’t trust them as far as I can throw them.”

“How come?”

“Well–” She cuts herself off and stops, eyes trailing to something inside one of the shops. She takes a second to make sure she’s seeing that right before pointing and saying, “November 6th.”

Will perks up at that. “That’s the day when we had our D&D campaign. The night we disappeared.”

“Yeah.” Steph looks around her hand following up to another object, a clock. “Nine Twenty-Three. That’s probably around the time we disappeared too.”

“But why is everything stuck this way?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, didn’t this place exist beforehand?” Will asked, head spinning. “How come everything is stuck on the night we disappeared?”

She purses her lips. “It… exist because of us? Or does time run differently here?”

“This is making my head hurt.”

She chuckles. “You and me both, kid.”

They continued their walk, popping into a few shops when they saw something useful, like another set of matches or even a sleeping bag they could share. They eventually ended up at a hunting store and scavenged there. Steph started grabbing a couple boxes of shotgun shells and ones that could fit inside Mr. Harrington’s pistol. It felt strange to have something like this in her possession, especially given the history of it. A very… bittersweet history of it.

Stupid, Harring– The small box tv on the counter startled her when it made a noise. When her gaze locks onto it, she realizes it’s not even on. She sighs, shaking her head. Now I’m imagining shit? This is getting fucking ridiculous.

She starts making room inside her bag for the ammunition when–

|| –Those Poor Children. ||

Stephanie nearly drops everything and grips the gun and starts frantically searching for the voice. What in the fucking–

|| Jesus, I know. I can only imagine what their families are going through. ||

|| It’s such a shame– ||

“What the…?”

“Did you hear that too?” Will asked, eyes full of hope as she looked between him and empty space behind the counter.

“Huh? Um… Y-Yeah. I-I did.” She swallows and then realizes something. “Wait… is that what you– Is that what you were talking about?”

“Yeah!” He shakes his head eagerly. “I told you, I swear I could hear my mom and Jonathan talking that night. I told you I wasn’t crazy.”

Stephanie takes a deep breath, still in a bit of disbelief I mean– This changes everything she’s thought about this place. “If we can hear somebody, then…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence. It was so shocking.

“Maybe we can talk to them. I know for a fact my mom heard me when I called the phone. She even responded when I talked back.”

“So it’s totally possible.” She goes silent to think, an idea coming to mind in a matter of seconds. She grins. “Follow me.”

Will of course does, a little intrigued by the fact that they found themselves climbing to the top of an old bell tower that overlooks most of Hawkins. “What is this place?”

“Somewhere I probably shouldn’t have been hanging out at when I was young.” Steph admits. “Don’t worry, the tower hasn’t been used in decades ‘cause the bell’s broken. Alright.” She smacks her hands together. “We have to figure out a way to get someone’s attention. Whether it’s your family, my family, friends, or hell, even some random stranger. We just need to get someone’s attention.”

“But how? I’m not even sure how any of this works.” Will asked, truthfully. He’s still not even really sure how he was able to contact his mom that night.

She hums, scratching her head. “Where’s your house at?” He gets close to the edge, looks around and points to it in the distance. She nods and starts doing the same as she speaks, “Alright, well there’s mine, Lucas’, and Mike’s. So we got options. We just need to figure out how you were able to speak to your mom that night. If we can figure that out, maybe we can do it again.”

“All I really did was just dial my house’s number and she picked up.”

“Okay. Maybe it’s just that simple after all.”

“Well… I know whatever happened that night, it fired the house’s phone. We’re going to need a new phone.”

“We can get one. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll move on to another house. Hopefully, one of our friends will pick up.”

And they have to. This is our only plan right now. She waves for him to go first. “Careful going down, it’s more tricky than going up.”

“Okay.” He says, doing what he was told.

She starts to follow closely behind when another voice appears.

|| I am such an idiot. ||

She froze, her heart sinking again. She looks back at one of the corners of the tower, and an aching feeling in her gut.

“Steve?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve had a cigarette in one hand, and his other tangled up his own locks; One leg was dangling off the tower, while the rest of his body laid against the arch of the opening. Today was stupidly sunny, barely any clouds and no smell of precipitation in the air for a chance of rain – the aesthetic was the complete opposite of his mood right now.

He took a puff of nicotine and blew it out like a long, heavy sigh. The shit from last night keeps replaying in his head, provoking him to do or say something he’s probably not supposed to (or is supposed to, his subconscious yells at him) – He still doesn’t understand why he suddenly ended up here out of place. He could have gone to skull rock, or even the quarry, or maybe even just running around the mall hoping no one realizes he’s a teenager and asks why he’s not in school.

He groans, closing his eyes, listening to the traffic below and people bickering, praying nobody looks up and finds him here. Again, why did I pick this place?

“I am such an idiot.” He mutters, then the insecurities he had slowly started to fade away when he felt a presence nearby. Worried that maybe a cop finally found him, he changes his sadden look for something cooler before opening his eyes and looking.

But strangely enough, no one was even there.

“Huh.” Steve blinks, swearing that he could feel someone was watching him. Maybe though? I mean, this was an old church that may or may not be haunted.

He shakes his head. “Fuck this.” He puts his bud out on the ground and stands up to leave.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Hey, Where’s Steve? I didn’t see his car in the parking lot.” Nancy asks, butting into Carol and Tommy’s conversation. She honestly wanted to see him to give him another apology, she still felt bad for prying so much about something she probably shouldn’t have seen. And I want to see if he’s in a good mental state today.

She watches the couple spare a look and gets worried, “What?”

“You haven’t seen him yet?” Carol said, as she shakes her head. “That’s weird.”

“Steve never skips school.” Tommy adds.

“What did you guys argue about last night?”

“Us?” Nancy said, pointing to herself. “You think he’s not here because we fought?”

“It’s a possibility. He finally has a girlfriend who’s charm finally made the King skip class.” Carol said, arms cross. “I’d say that’s an achievement.”

She scoffs. “First of all, It was just a disagreement, nothing more. A second, there’s no way that’s the reason he’s not here.”

“Maybe you hit one of his insecurities you were yelling about last night.”

Nancy holds her tongue and ends up just leaving in a huff. Every time she thinks she’s finally on their level, she’s pushed back down. She sighs and enters her first class of the day. Her gaze follows over to where her friend would be at, but atlas, her desk was empty.

She reaches out and taps the girl in front of her shoulder. “Hey, Ally. Where’s Barb?”

The girl raised an eyebrow. “Um, shouldn’t you know?”

Nancy’s stomach dropped. “You haven’t seen her anywhere... at all?”

Ally shakes her head just as the bell rings and everyone’s ordered to sit down, leaving the Wheeler to wonder if she stayed home too because of their bickering.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“There she is. Emerald City.” Powell announced as they pulled up to the one and only laboratory in Hawkins. They were going off really their only lead at this point, and hoping it plays out.

“I heard they make space weapons in there.” Callahan replies, getting a look.

“Space weapons?”

“Yeah. You know, like, Reagan’s Star Wars. I guess we’re gonna blow the Ruskies to smithereens.”

“Hey, can I help you?” The guard asked once the police car rolled to a stop just in front of the gate.

“Uh, yeah. We’re here for a tour.” Hopper lied.

“Oh, we don’t give tours.”

“Okay... A quick look around.”

“You have to get clearance for that. You can contact, uh... Rick Schaeffer at the Department of Energy.”

“Maybe you seen it on TV.” Hopper pushes, not backing down from this. “We got two local kids missing. We have reason to believe they might have snuck in here.”

“Like I said, you have to speak to Mr. Schaeffer.”

Hopper exhaled through his nose, and turned the car and placed his hat on the dashboard; His partners beside him grew quiet, and let him have at it. “What’s your name?”

“Patrick.”

“Patrick, I got a panicked mayor, and I got reporters breathing down my neck and I got two very upset mothers.” He said, his face growing softer, more wounded like. “Now, I know the kid’s not in there, but I gotta check off this box. Patrick, would you do me a favor? Would you speak to your boss and see what you can swing for us? I’d really appreciate it. I’m talking ten minutes, tops.”

Just ten minutes to see if they were in there. That’s all that the police chief needs…

And wants.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve heads inside the shop nearby, his stomach growling for food. It completely slipped his mind this morning – or afternoon now – he’s completely lost track of time.

Now what kind of junk sounds appetizing today? He starts wandering around, not at all familiar with this layout or the shop for that matter (Why didn’t he just go to the sandwich shop next door again?). As he slips through one of the aisles, he notices the person in front of him struggling to reach for something off the high shelf.

Deciding to be a nice boy, he reaches up and grabs it down for her. “Here you go, Ma’am.”

“Oh, thank you.” She said, surprised and grateful. “How kind of you.”

“Early Christmas shopping?”

“Oh, I wish. No, I just need a new phone in case my son calls the house.”

He nods. “Your son lives far then?”

“Um, no, h-he’s missing.”

Oh?

Oh…

Oh!

Steve’s eyes widened at the realization. “Oh, oh my god, I’m so sorry. You’re that kid’s mother.”

“I am.” Joyce says, shifting her weight around.

“Am… so sorry, I-I didn’t know, I–”

“Like you said, you didn’t know.” She puts the phone into the shopping cart. “It’s okay.”

“Okay, um…” This was awkward, right? Steve shifted on his feet too, not really sure how to wrap this up. “Uh, do you have… uh… heard any updates?”

Joyce shakes her head, sadly. “Not yet. I know the Police Chief has put many of his guys and volunteers to work. But I think at this point they covered all of Hawkins.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I just, uh–” He trails off, struggling to make a sentence. “Sorry, I was just being nosy. I don’t really hear much news, I…” He swallows. “I went to school with the Henderson girl, so...”

Is he making any sense? Hopefully she’s understanding what he means– Fuck, his heart’s racing so fast.

“Oh, yeah?” Joyce said, looking bittersweet – Looking like she was a mother staring at her hurt child (How come his own mother never looked at him like that?). “Must be hard knowing someone you knew is missing.”

Damn, right on the money. “Yeah.” He says, his throat feeling tight.

She hums, and then gives him a stern expression. “Shouldn’t you be in school though?”

Annnnddddd… Fuck.

Nice Going, Harrington. He scolded himself as he racked his brain for a believable lie. “Oh, uh, I-I graduated already. I was a grade ahead.”

“Oh.” She says, apologetically. “My mistake.”

“No worries, seriously. It happens all the time.” At least he didn’t say something stupid, and needs to get out of this conversation before he does but… damn his little heart sometimes. “Uh–” He gestures to her cart full of different items. “Do you want me to pay for some of that? For bothering you? Or uh, I… I know you’re probably–”

“Oh, no!” She shakes her head. “No. Thanks, but I can get it. Money’s a little tight, I’ll admit, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You know?”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I appreciate the offer.” Joyce smiles, and subconsciously pats the young man on his shoulder. “You’re very sweet. Take care.”

“You too.” He says, seeing this as he exits and walks past her.

Joyce watches as he turns to another aisle, growing a bit sad by the interaction.

Alright, do I have everything? She has a new phone, some groceries– things she knows Will would like–

The display of string lights flickered for a second.

Confused, thinking most likely it was probably a short circuit, she doesn’t understand why she ended up muttering her youngest name, “Will.”

Coincidentally, the light flickers shortly afterwards. “Will!” She says, again, hope blooming in her chest. Then, all the lights on the display shined for a few seconds.

God, call her crazy, but maybe this was a sign that her son is still close by.

Before anyone could blink, the checkout counter was filled up with so many boxes of Christmas lights, some just the basic color, and some of the tri-colors. She can only imagine how much this is going to cost her, but who cares! If this is strangely how she can talk to her son, then this is what she shall do.

Her Boss, who was the clerk for the day, looks at her worriedly. “Joyce–”

“Just ring me up, Donald.” Is all she said, patiently waiting until he was all finished. Without sparing another word, she gathers all the bags into her hands and races to her car.

Donald sighs while watching her leave. “That poor woman.” He says, just as Steve comes up to the counter with his snacks and drinks. He raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be minding your own business?” Steve said, becoming bitter again.

“Mmm, hmm.” He scans everything and a price pops up on his screen. “That’ll be Five-Fifty.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

“Found a phone.” Will said, almost immediately as they entered. It shouldn’t be a shock since this is the place his mother works at.

“That should work.” Steph said, smiling. “Let’s get a move on.”

Will gets up on his tippy toes to grab it, slowly pulling it off the shelf when something presses his hand. Startled, he falls back and the older girl grabs the box before it falls.

“What happened?” She asked, worriedly.

“S-Something touched me.” He says, taking a step back.

“What?” She hands him the box and peeks over the shelf herself (She’s not exactly tall either). There was nothing odd out of the ordinary, just the normal dust and native plants that grew in this world. She frowns. “I don’t really see anything.”

Suddenly the display of lights flickered. Out of instinct her hand reaches for the pistol at her side. Then her heart sinks at the next thing.

|| Uh, do you want me to pay for some of that? I know you’re probably– ||

“Steve?” Stephanie says, surprised.

So she wasn’t crazy after all. She did hear him.

Will looked up at her, stunned too. “Steve Harrington?” He asked, but before she could speak another voice could be heard.

|| –I can get it. Money’s a little tight, I’ll admit, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You know? ||

|| You sure? ||

|| Yes. I appreciate the offer. You’re very sweet. Take care. ||

“Mrs. Byers?/Mom?!” They both erupted, then went quiet to see if they could hear anything else.

Nothing.

“Shit.” The oldest said, and now gnawing on her lip again, nervously (And completely forgetting about Steve for the time being). “That might have been our chance.” She hears the boy drop the phone somewhere next to her. “Will?”

The boy seemed fascinated with an idea swirling around in his head. Stephanie finds herself just watching, waiting to see what he had in mind. Will reaches up and lets his fingers brush the display of some string lights, the lights getting a little bit hazy – It was almost like his touch was giving them electricity.

|| Will. ||

Joyce’s voice broke through very faintly, but they both heard it and nearly cried.

“Touch the light again.” Steph said, urgently. Will does what he’s told and they both stay quiet again.

|| Will! ||

“She hears us.” He says, happily.

“Holy shit…” She chuckles. “I have an idea. Touch all the lights.”

Frantically, they rush to touch all the lights they saw on display, not even questioning how this was even possible, they just hoped Joyce got the message. Once the hue died down they both held their breaths, and crossed their fingers. And then…

|| Just ring me up, Donald. ||

Stephanie threw her hands up. “Yes!” She says, with Will laughing beside her. “Thank you, Ms. Byers.”

“My mom’s the best.” He said, with a warm look.

“Hell, yeah she is. And forget the phone–” She locks eyes with him, determined. “I think we figured out a better way to communicate.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“And you think these missing kids may have crawled through there?”

Hopper spares the man a glance before looking back at the drain. Somehow, he convinced the security guard to let him and his guys in, but so far their theories are turning out pretty sour. “Well, that was the idea.”

Their “Tour Guide”, I guess you can call him that, made a fact that was all smug and prideful. “Yeah, I just don’t see how that’d be possible. We’ve got over 100 cameras. Every square inch covered, plus all my guys. No one breaks in here. Certainly not some kids.”

Hopper perked up at the news, eyes trailing to a few cameras in view. Now it was his turn to be the smug one as he asked, “Those cameras, you keep the tapes?”

Well… I don’t think the guide was expecting that reaction.

Now, the three of them were following the man inside, the hallways swarmed with men in lab coats, and a security team blocking a room that was marked “hazardous”.

The police Chief found this a bit suspicious and asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, what do you guys do in here?”

The guide chuckles. “You’re asking the wrong guy.”

“Staying one step ahead of the Russians?”

“I expect. Something like that.”

“Who’s in charge here?”

“That’d be Dr. Brenner.”

“And he builds the space lasers?” Callahan asked, eagerly.

“Space lasers?”

“Ignore him.” Hopper replies, sighing. They eventually entered the surveillance room, the three of them watching the screen closely. “This is the night of the 6th and 7th we’re seeing here?”

“That’s correct.”

Hopper narrows his eyes, waiting to see if he sees anything unusual. However, to his surprise, the tape only lasted less than a minute. “Is that it?” He asked, in disbelief.

“Like I said, we would have seen them.”

And then the cops were practically shoved out of there, and the guide gives them their condolences for the tired search (Yeah, what an asshole, right?).

“The night of the 7th, we had a search party out for Will and Stephanie. You remember anything about that night?” Hopper asked, seeing if he wasn’t the only suspicious one.

“Mmm, not much to remember. Called it off.” Callahan replies, thinking.

“‘Cause of the storm.” Powell adds.

“Yeah, a lot of rain that night.” Hopper says, arriving at their car. “You see any rain on that tape?”

“What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know.” He spares a look at the building, a sinking feeling in his gut. “But they’re lying.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, the boys were outside shifting through the playground for some rocks. Mike picks one up and shows it off. “How about this one?”

Dustin looks and shakes his head. “Too big for the sling.” He says, getting on his knees to do some digging. “So, do you think Eleven was born with her powers, like the X-Men, or do you think she acquired them, like... like Green Lantern?

“She’s not a superhero. She’s a weirdo.” Lucas replies, rolling his eyes.

“Why does that matter?” Mike snaps, offended. “The X-Men are weirdos.”

“If you love her so much, why don’t you marry her?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Mike, seriously?”

“What?”

“You look at her all, like…” Lucas makes a giggly face, and softens his body language, followed by a higher pitched voice, “‘Hi, El! El! El! El! I love you so much! Would you marry me’?”

“Shut up, Lucas.”

“Yeah, shut up, Lucas.” Their bully, Troy, announced as he stomped towards the group. “What are you losers doing back here?”

“Probably looking for their missing friends.” James said, smirking.

“That’s not funny. It’s serious. They’re in danger.” Dustin hisses, annoyed.

“I hate to break it to you, Toothless, but they’re not in danger.” Troy bites back. “They’re dead. That’s what my dad says. He said that Byers was probably killed by some other queer. And maybe your sister’s been killed by some crazy stalker who is into weirdos like her.”

The two bullies laugh as Dustin looks like he’s about to strangle someone. No one says anything about Will like that. And nobody especially says something like that about his big sister.

Mike sees this, and puts his arm in front of his friend to soothe him. “Come on. Just ignore them.” He says, and starts to leave, only to be tripped – and face planted into the ground.

“Watch where you’re going, Frogface.” Troy spats, but he instantly gets a taste of his own medicine.

To everyone’s surprise, Dustin was the one to deliver the karma, which was forcibly shoving him to the ground.

Everyone stared, and before someone could speak he shoved James too and scrambled to pick up Mike.

“Lucas! Let’s go!” Dustin yells, and silently tells Mike to go. As they were leaving, he flips the bullies the bird and snaps, “You shitheads need to keep Will and Phanie’s name out of your mouths! Got it?!”

And then they broke off into a Usain Bolt type sprint.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

They finally ended up back on Mirkwood, guns loaded, backpacks full, and hope in their chest. If this works, if Joyce does this right, then maybe they can finally communicate to the other side. All they needed to do was tell her where they are, and maybe they could figure out a way to get back.

It sounded easy, and they just hoped it was.

The two of them were silent for most of the walk, and when they got to this specific road, the boy grabbed her hand, shaking. She says nothing, ‘cause nothing needs to be said about it. If that’s what made him feel safe then so be it.

“Do you think it’s negative emotions?” Will eventually said, breaking the ice.

Stephanie tilts her head, confused. “Hmm?”

“Do you think that’s how we can hear some people? Through negative emotions?” He looks up at her. “Like my mom, she must be worried about me, maybe that’s why we can hear her?”

Her eyebrows shoot up, shocked. It’s definitely a plausible theory (But would that apply to Steve as well? And if so, why is he so worried?). “Maybe.”

“But would that go with us too?” He adds, the wheels in his head really were turning today. “I mean, is that how the beast picks their victims? Because they’re in a bad mental state?”

Well, now that makes sense if you put it that way. “It’s possible.” She said, nodding. Yeah, that’s completely possible.

It explains a lot of things. More or so she wanted to admit. She knows these last two years were… interesting to say the least. Definitely could qualify as a ‘Bad Mental State’. And… she also has felt a bit stressed about school and talks about her future. But if she knew herself was in a bad state, then that means–

“Then… are you okay?” Steph asked, realizing something. The boy froze, like actually froze when she said that. It was a trippy sight to see. “Will?”

“What?”

“Are you okay?” She tries again, a bit gentler this time. “Mentally?” Nothing. “Will–

“I… I’m fine.”

And then he lets go of her hand and starts walking a bit quicker– not even realizing he was doing so. She stops, concern on her face. She wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction from a simple yes or no question. She makes a note for herself that when they do get out of here she’s going to have a talk with him (Or at least tell Joyce about her concerns).

She sighs. Always got to be the therapist, Henderson.

She takes a step to move but stops, her eyes trailing off the road to her right, right into the void of the trees. It was weird. She felt like someone was standing right there – The same kind of presence back at the clock tower.

“Huh.” She turns her attention back in front of her, then proceeds to freak out a bit when she notices how far Will was. She cusses and breaks into a sprint to catch up quickly.

Completely unaware of who that presence really was.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve steps over the barricades, his feet sinking into the leaves. Curiosity got the best of him you could say, or maybe the conversation last night really was getting under his skin (Like he’ll ever admit that), but he found himself here. Standing at a… crime scene, I guess.

Her car went off road with herself and the Byers boy in it. Not long afterwards, they ditched it.

His brown orbs trailed from the tree the vehicle hit and down the long road. He also knows, from what he’s heard, they both ran back to the boy’s house and then the trail went cold after that. But that’s the part that tickled his brain a bit.

Why run all the way back home, a place you’re probably the safest at, and then leave it? It didn’t make sense in his book. Hell, it shouldn’t make sense in anybody’s book. What was the urge for them to run away from home and into the thick woods that surrounds Hawkins?

He rubbed his chin and started thinking like he was going to solve this or whatever. Like…

He then scoffs at himself.

What the fuck am I even doing? What is he doing? Why did he drive himself here? It’s not like he should care anymore. I mean, he shouldn’t care anymore. His parents would have his head if they knew–

Then there it is again.

That strange feeling that someone’s watching him.

He turns around, half expecting a cop to be there to scold him, the other half expecting nothing and– Oh! What do you know? It was nothing.

But even if it was nothing, he swears someone is standing there, watching his every move. Almost like this presence was here to judge him and see what other stupid things he can do today.

It was definitely giving him the heebie-jeebies.

He frowns, and looks away. “What the fuck…?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It took her an hour, but Joyce got all the lights up. She strung them all through the house, up along the wall and hanging gently off the ceiling. She hopes that she’s not losing her mind – She knows how silly this looks; Putting up Christmas lights in November (I mean, the holiday’s not that far off but still). She was expecting some reaction to happen, some or maybe all of them would immediately start blinking; Instead, her doorbell rings and she’s met with Karen Wheeler.

Not wanting to be rude, Joyce invited her and her youngest in. Karen pops in a casserole she made into the oven, sitting next to the worried mother and tries to see what state she was in.

Joyce chuckles nervously when her guest notices the festive decoration. “Will always loved Christmas, you know. So I thought if I... I put the lights up... I don’t know, he... I’d feel like he was home somehow.” She covers part of her face with her hand. “I-It’s silly, I-I know…”

Karen shakes her head. “No. No, it’s not silly.” She takes the other woman’s hand in hers, giving her a gentle squeeze. “How is Jonathan holding up?”

Joyce takes a deep breath. “You know, he’s good at taking care of himself. He always has been, you know? I…” She scoffs. “I mean, he thinks I’m losing my mind, but…”

“Joyce.” Karen says, softly. “I want you to know something. If you need anything, anything at all... Ted and I are here for you.”

This sentimental moment caused them both to become oblivious to the lights flickering on in the hallway, a walkway pointing towards Will’s room. The only one who didn’t miss it was Holly, who was now sliding off her chair to follow.

“Thank you.” Joyce said, sincerely.

Karen smiles. “Okay.”

The two women continued to talk, Joyce even bringing up Mike’s feelings about the whole thing – and even wondered if Claudia and Dustin were okay too. Meanwhile, little Holly Wheeler watched the lights flickered on and off, guiding her to the bedroom. Her eyes watched in awe as the many, many lamps that were lingered around Will’s room turned off and on one-by-one in a symphony-like way.

She giggles and claps, excited to watch this “show”. Then…

They all stopped and the nightmare began.

Her happiness starts to pool away as she hears a scary sound. She then turns white as a ghost when she notices one of the walls was moving and stretching out towards her.

Who knows what would have happened if Joyce hadn’t come in and grabbed Holly, handing her back to her mother.

“She shouldn’t be here.” Joyce said, scared in both tone and facial expression.

Karen didn’t notice the seriousness of her look as she apologizes, “Oh, I’m sorry. She’s quite the explorer these days.”

“Wait, did you see something?” The worried Byers brushes her off, and the little girl nods quickly. “What did... what did you see? Tell me. What did you see?”

“Joyce!” The blonde scolds, but she’s already being shooed away.

“Karen, thank you for the casserole, but I need you to leave.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Nancy tapped her foot repeatedly, impatiently waiting for the person to pick up the phone. “Come on, come on, come on…” She mumbled, gripping the payphone tight. “Come on–”

[ ‘Hello?’ ]

Oh, thank god. “Hi!” She says, eagerly. “Hi, uh, Ms. Holland, it’s Nancy.”

[ ‘Oh, Nancy, how are you?’ ]

“Good. I’m good. Um, I was just wondering, uh, is Barb there?”

[ ‘Mmm... No, she hasn’t come home yet.’ ]

“But she did come home, right? After the vigil?”

[ ‘No, she said she was staying with you last night.’ ]

Shit. Nancy mentally scolds herself. “Right, yes. She did, sorry. I meant, did she come home this morning? I think she left some textbooks and she was gonna go pick them up.”

[ ‘Oh, um, no, I haven’t seen her.’ ]

“Do– do you know what? I just remembered... she’s at the library.”

[ ‘Nancy, will you please have her call me as soon as you find her?’ ]

“Yeah.” She shakes her head, frowning at how worried Barb’s mother was sounding. “Yeah, I will. Sorry to bother you.”

She hangs up the phone, frustrated. This wasn’t like Barb at all. In the past when they’ve had some disagreements, she’s never once disappeared like this. The only thing Barb’s ever done that was “extreme” was she did the silent treatment for most of the school day.

This is so weird. This whole day’s been weird. She sighs and digs out some more change for the machine, and dials another number she knows by heart. The whole time as it rang she was nipping at the tip of her thumb. To her surprise, a voice she’s never heard before answered the phone.

[ ‘Hello?’ ]

The voice was a bit husky, but sweet with a pinch of sass.

Nancy’s confused, and twirls the phone cord around her finger. “Oh, I’m sorry, who’s this?” She asked, wondering if she dialed the number wrong. “Is this the–”

[ ‘This is Jessica. How can I help you?’ ]

Jessica?

Jessica? Who’s…

Her eyes widened.

Oh.

Now she recognizes the name.

It was Steve’s mother – The woman she hasn’t met yet – The woman she’s “meeting” for the first time over the phone.

She swallows, nervously. “Oh, I-I’m… sorry. I was trying to get a hold of Steve.” She replies, feeling a bit awkward (and nervous?).

[ ‘Steven? And who are you to him?’ ]

Well she sounds lovely. She can hear the snobbishness in her tone, almost offended that someone was calling for her son. That’s a little weird.

“Um, I’m his girlfriend.” Nancy replies, trying to sound confident. “I was just wondering if he’s home? I haven’t seen him at school day and I’m a little worried.”

Then came the very long, very uncomfortable pause. For a second there she thought the mom hung up, it was so quiet.

[ ‘Girlfriend? That’s new. ]

“Did Steve not tell you about us?” Nancy asked, a bit hurt and a bit confused. He seemed so proud to show the whole school that they were dating, how come he never told his mother?

[ ‘What’s your name?’ ]

Skipping my question. I love it. “Um, Nancy. Nancy Wheeler, Ma’am.”

[ ‘Wheeler, you said?’ ]

“Um, yes.” Now she was puzzled even more. Was this a bad thing–

[ ‘That’s wonderful!’ ]

Nancy blinks. “It… is?”

[ ‘My son’s dating a Wheeler! I almost can’t believe it.’ ]

And the woman was laughing with joy(?), which Nancy puts to the side. She just needs to get an answer to her own simple question. “That’s… wonderful, um… is Steve there?”

[ ‘No, he’s not. *Sigh* I swear if that boy’s skipping school, we’re going to have a problem.’ ]

And I think I just made everything worse. She straightens herself up, ready to end this. “Okay, Well… thanks, Mrs. Harrington, I’ll see if he’s maybe hiding out somewhere in the school.”

[ ‘Okay. Well, you have a good rest of your day, sweetheart.’ ]

Sweetheart? Nancy shakes her head again. “Thanks. You too.” She hangs up the phone. Well that was even weirder than the last one.

She crosses her arms, turning to head inside only her eyes to beeline to Carol and Tommy following someone closely – Tommy looking pissed off, especially.

“What the heck?” She says, and hurries towards them.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hopper and his partner entered the library with an idea – an idea hanging on a very thin thread that is. So, he puts on his best smile and takes off his hat, strolling up to the woman at the desk. “Hey, Marissa. How you doin’?”

The librarian pursed her lips. “You have a lot of nerve showing up here.”

He blinks. “What?”

“You could have at least called, said, ‘Marissa! Hey, it’s not gonna work out. Sorry I wasted your time. I’m a dіck’.”

Oh, now he remembers. “Yep.” He said, agreeing immediately. “I’m sorry. Uh... Maybe we could go out again next week?” She, and even Powell, made a face at him that gave him his answer. He smacks his lips and looks around. “Newspapers? You guys got newspapers around here?”

Marissa nods and shows them where they all are. “We have the New York Times, the Post, all the big ones. Organized by year and topic. You can find the corresponding microfiche in the reading room.”

“Okay, we’re looking for anything on the Hawkins National Laboratory.”

“Well, shouldn’t you be looking for that missing kid?”

“Yeah. We are.” Hopper pushes, and adds, “So, why don’t you start with the Times, and we’ll check out the Post.”

She scoffs in disbelief and walks off, Powell stepping up with a look on his face. “The librarian?” He said, getting a shrug.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Nancy sped up when she saw who they were stalking in the parking lot. Why would two people like Tommy and Carol go after a kid like Jonathan Byers? Nothing that went through her mind would give her that answer. When she got closer is when it got more intense.

Tommy was practically manhandling Jonathan, yelling and trying to take his bag away from him. The eldest Wheeler sped up even more, full on running now.

She manages to step between the two of them, arms out in defense. “Hey! What’s going on?”

“This creep was spying on us last night!” Tommy said, pointing furiously. “Nicole says he was taking pictures of us by the pool.”

“I was looking for my brother.” Jonathan replies, holding his bag close.

“Bullshit. Now let me see.”

“Back off!”

Nancy steps in between them again. “Tommy, stop!” She yells, making him scoff.

“You’re defending this creep, Wheeler?” Carol asked, in disgust.

“First of all, you really going to believe what Nicole said? The girl’s like the boy who cried wolf.”

“Nancy–”

“Lastly, so what if he has photos of us at the pool? It wasn’t like we’re naked.”

“Naked or not, he still took pictures of us!” Tommy snaps, taking a step closer as she takes a step back.

“Pictures or not, he was looking for his brother–”

“How do you know, huh? How?”

“Because he’s been hanging out missing poster signs of him and missing school because he’s the big brother.” Nancy looks over her shoulder, locking eyes with Jonathan. “Go.” He hesitates. “Go, man!”

Not wasting another opportunity, he hustles off towards his car. Tommy tries to lunge towards him, but Nancy isn’t letting up.

“What the fuck, Nancy?!” Tommy shouted, and she chose to ignore him by walking away once she knew Jonathan wasn’t around. “Nancy!”

“Nancy, get back here!” Carol yelled.

“Nancy, you such a fucking princess! Wait until your boyfriend hears about this!”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Dude, I can’t believe you did that!” Lucas said, as they bike away from the school. “You know Troy and James are not going to let that slide.”

“I don’t care!” Dustin says, bitterly (and if he could cross his arms right now he would). “I don’t like when people bad mouth my friends, bad mouth my sister! I mean, for Christ’s sake, she was giving Will a ride home. What’s so bad about that?”

He doesn’t care if James’s waiting tomorrow to give him a wedgie, or Troy’s fist plummeting into his face, he doesn’t care. Both Will and Phanie had their fair share of bullying themselves, or whispers of derogatory names and speeches – All because Will was the “quiet kid” and wears “colorful” clothing; All because his sister wasn’t a “girly-girl” and a total nerd. He’s heard that all throughout his life, and sometimes he said something, sometimes he stays silent when told too – He probably should have done that today.

But those… fucking bullies just had to poke him when he was the most stress. Stressed out with each day that none of them had come home.

Jeez, he’s either going to get scolded or praised by his mother if she finds out about that interaction.

“And don’t even try to convince me to beg them for forgiveness. They don’t deserve it and I’m standing my ground.” Dustin adds, shutting his friend up. As they rode closer and closer to their houses, he frowned, worriedly.

I just hope El knows what she’s talking about. He just wants to find them both soon (Safe and sound would be a plus).

The boys continued to ride until they arrived at the power lines behind the Wheelers’ house. Mike shouted and told the girl to hope on, warning all of them they only had a few hours to pull this off.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Joyce was standing in her kitchen with a cigarette when Chester started barking. She looks up to see the lights in the living room start flickering, and hurries in there. As soon as she entered they died down. Then, slowly the light directly above her activated, and then made a pathway to the other side of the room. Her fingers laced around them, and followed, ending up being directed at a bundle of them lying on the floor.

She rushes to take them in her hands, sitting down and taking a deep breath. It was now or never to find out if she was really losing her mind or not. She closes her eyes, and whispers,

“Will... are you here?”

There was a brief pause followed by the ball lighting up and fading. She chuckles in excitement, completely over the moon with fresh tears in her eyes.

“Okay, good, good, good, good. Are you…” How should she do this? “Um, blink once for yes, twice for no. C-Can y-you do that for me, sweetie? Can you do–” The ball lights up again just once as she feels a tear run down her cheek and hugs the object.

She can feel it in her bones, in her heart now. She knows this is her baby boy. She knows that her son is still with her.

Joyce smiles and sniffles. “Oh, good boy. Good boy. Okay, Will, um–” Another deep breath. “Is… Is Stephanie with you too?”

One blink. The girl who was kind enough to pick up her son is still with him despite all this time. She can finally put some of that guilt away now.

“That’s wonderful news.” She said, her expression growing bigger. However, this was going to be the hardest question yet to ask. “Baby, I need to know…” She swallows. “Are you guys alive?”

One blink and her heart skips a beat. She thanks any God who’s listening for this.

Her lip quivers as she follows up with, “Are you guys safe?”

Two blinks.

Her son and Stephanie were not okay.

Now, Joyce was shaking like a leaf as she clenched the lights tighter, her mind running a mile a minute on what she can do. What could she say that wouldn’t revert to playing twenty questions four times over?

“I need to know where to find you two, honey. Where... where are you? Can you... can you tell me where you are? Can you…” She chokes, her cheeks completely stained. “Please, baby. I need to find you. Tell me what to do. Please just... Will…”

She didn’t know how long she sat there and cried, wondering what she could do for her baby, for Steph; But at some point a light bulb idea appeared. She suddenly found herself stringing some lights on the wall over her couch, a row of three, before popping open a can of black paint and began brushing letters on.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

“How do we get my mom’s attention when we can’t see what she’s done?” Will asked after hours of walking back to his home, he was disappointed to find that his house still looks the same. I guess their theory about earlier was right–

This world was stuck on the day he and Steph got kidnapped by the beast.

The oldest walked around a bit, thinking. Unfortunately, despite all the lights Joyce bought, they can’t see any of them. “Did she put it in your room, maybe?” Stephanie thought, and wandered inside.

Nothing. Of course. The only thing she saw that was possibly different was some scratch marks on the wall, ones that would be too high for a dog to do.

She swallows and leaves, meeting the boy in the hallway. “Did you have scratches on your wall before?” Will gives her a weird look and shakes his head. She hums. “We got to find those lights quickly. I think that monster’s been lurking around here.”

They found themselves back in the living room, and started moving their arms around, squinting too to see if something would appear. All hope was starting to seem lost until her hand hits an object above, a glowing hue appears for a split second.

“Whoa…” Will said, in awe, and suddenly, they both swore they heard a dog barking. “Chester?”

Steph took this as a sign to keep going, hitting the same spot again before gently moving her hand along the imaginary line. She trails to the little cabinet against the wall, feeling around until she hits something that makes light.

Come on, Ms. Byers. Please tell me you’re home. The two of them waited anxiously, waiting for the woman to speak, waiting for–

|| Will... are you here? ||

Joyce’s voice broke through, breaking them.

“Mom.” Will breaths, coming down to sit on his knees. “What do I–”

“Start feeling around. Just like I did.” Steph said, coming to sit next to him. He nods again, keeping calm and feels around – His fingers touching something that made the hue appear again. “Perfect. Just like that.”

|| Okay, good, good, good, good. ||

“See?” Steph says, happily. “It’s working.”

“Mom.” Will says again, smiling. Now, they just have to stay silent and listen.

|| Are you… Um, blink once for yes, twice for no. C-Can y-you do that for me, sweetie? Can you do– ||

Of course they can. So Will reaches out and touches it once.

|| Oh, good boy. Good boy. Okay, Will, um– Is… Is Stephanie with you too? ||

One touch. Will is eternally grateful that he’s not alone in this scary place.

|| That’s wonderful news – Baby, I need to know… ||

There’s a pause, and they hold their breaths.

|| Are you guys alive? ||

Their hearts clenched at how painful she sounded.

His poor mother. I can only imagine what she must feel like. Steph thought, and touched his shoulder, trying to give him some comfort.

He touches the air with a shaky hand, trying not to beat himself up over how much his mother was suffering.

|| Are you guys safe? ||

They frown, and he touches the air twice.

I’m sorry, Mom. Will says, trying not to picture the state she was in after that answer.

|| I need to know where to find you two, honey. Where... where are you? Can you... can you tell me where you are? Can you… Please, baby. I need to find you. Tell me what to do. Please just... Will… ||

“Mom?” He croaked, after she went silent. “Mom?”

“Ms. Byers?” She said, worriedly.

“Mom, please… where did you–”

Then they heard the couch scrap across the floor, hitting the wall, followed by the sounds of hammering.

“What is she doing now?” He asks, both of them standing and hearing the string lights she must have in her hands clink together, and move along the wall. “Why is she hanging up more lights?”

Although he was puzzled, Stephanie was not. She walks over to the couch, getting onto the cushions and feeling around, the hues returning when she hits a certain spot. She laughs blissfully.

“Oh, your mom’s a genius.” Steph said, with a huge smile on her face.

Will gives her a look. “I don’t get it.”

“Watch closely. See–” She touches a line of lights near the ceiling. “Eight.” Then the middle. “Nine.” Then the bottom. “Nine. It makes twenty-six. Your mom’s a freaking genius.”

“Still not getting it.”

“Don’t you see? She didn’t just hang up more lights–” Her smile grows, and soon will his. “It’s an alphabet wall.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Nancy wasn’t sure what she was going to do. First Steve doesn’t come into school, and now no one knows where Barb is. She decides to kill two birds with one stone after school, and takes a drive over to the Harrington house. A quick driveby shows that her boyfriend’s car wasn’t there, so she figures he must have just skipped school because of last night’s disagreement. As for her best friend though, she couldn’t have said the same thing.

She slows down and parks directly behind Barb’s car, jogging over and taking a peek inside. Everything was the same, Barb’s purse was on the floor board, and the sweater she changed out of was laid in the seat.

No. No way. She couldn’t believe this. If Barb didn’t drive home last night then where was she? She tried to come up with excuses, tried to make up ideas that would lead to her coming home without her car but…

Nothing made sense.

She about cried on the way home, on the verge of a breakdown as she thinks only but the worst of the worst.

“Hey!” Her mother calls out as she enters the house. “You’re home early! How was the game?” When her mother notices how quiet she was, it is when she meets her daughter halfway. “Nancy? What’s the matter?”

“I-It’s Barb.” Nancy croaks, shaking. “I think... something happened. Something terrible.” She hopes she’s just over exaggerating, but she doesn’t know about that.

She can’t shake off this dreadful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“I don’t know, Chief.” Powell begins, really on the fence about all that they read.

“What don’t you know?” Hopper asked, confused.

“This lady, Terry Ives, sounds like a real nut to me. Her kid was taken for LSD mind control experiments? She’s been discredited. Claim was thrown out–”

Hopper sighs. “Okay, forget about her. Take a look at this.” He slides over a newspaper clipping he printed out. The headline said: ‘MK ULTRA EXPOSED’. He points to a familiar face in the picture. “Dr. Martin Brenner.”

“Who?”

“Brenner. He runs Hawkins Lab.”

“Okay…”

Hopper sits back in his chair with disbelief and scoffs. “You don’t find that interesting?”

“Not really.” Powell said, with a shrug. “He was involved in some hippie crap back in the day, so what?”

“No, this isn’t hippie crap. This is CIA-sanctioned research.”

“Doesn’t mean he had anything to do with our kids.”

“Come on. Look at that.” Hopper points to the other people in the picture. “Hospital gowns. All of ‘em. Now, that piece of fabric that the teacher found by the pipe. That sure looked like a hospital gown to me, huh? Am I wrong?”

“I don’t know, Chief.”

“Come on, man. Work with me here. I’m not saying that there’s some grand conspiracy–” (You sure about that?) “I’m just…” He sighs, exhausted. “I’m saying maybe something happened. Maybe Will and Stephanie were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and they saw something that they shouldn’t have.”

Powell makes a face. “It’s a reach.”

“It’s a start.”

Before more could be said, Powell’s radio goes off, and Callahan starts speaking.

[ ‘Hey, Powell, is the chief with you?’ ]

Hopper wastes no time to reach over and take the radio off his partner’s shoulder, answering it, “Hopper here. What do you got?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The boys follow Eleven through the woods, the sun finally setting, slowly engulfing them in darkness if it wasn’t for the lights on their bikes. To everyone’s shock and confusion, she had brought them to a familiar place.

She turns around and faces them, replying, “Here.”

Mike gives her a look. “Yeah, this is where Will lives.”

“Hiding.”

He shakes his head. “No, no, this is where he lives. He’s missing from here. Understand?”

“What are we doing here?” Lucas asked, dropping his bike in annoyance.

“She said he’s hiding here.”

“Um…” He looks around. “No!”

Now it was Dustin’s turn to look annoyed. “I swear, if we walked all the way out here for nothing–”

“That’s exactly what we did. I told you she didn’t know what the hell she was talking about!”

Mike sighs and looks at her. “Why did you bring us here?”

“Mike, don’t waste your time with her.” Lucas replies, fed up and tired.

“What do you want to do then?”

“Call the cops, like we should have done yesterday.”

“We are not calling the cops!”

“Hey, guys?” Dustin says, something catching his attention.

“What other choice do we have?” Lucas yells again.

“Guys!” He snaps, drawing their attention to the police cars rushing by, followed by an ambulance. Their sirens were blaring loudly, and were heading in a direction they all knew where it led to.

A dreadful feeling came to all of them instantly.

“Oh no…” Mike whispers.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Stephanie wrote on the wall with a marker the best she could, drawing the alphabet in each row. They couldn’t see the lights or the letters Joyce probably scribbled on too, but they could make do with what they had.

“This should probably help, right?”

“Definitely.” Will agrees with a nod.

“Good.” She smacks her hands together. “Alright, come on Mrs. Byers, talk to us. Ask us some questions.”

“Come on, Mom.”

They waited and waited, until they finally heard her speak.

|| Okay. Okay, baby, talk to me. Talk to me. Where are you guys? ||

“What should we say?” Will asked, as he climbed onto the couch.

“Uh…” What could they say? “Here! Right Here. Tell her that.”

“Okay.”

Will Reached up and started touching right above each letter, listening – His mother repeating back whatever he touched.

|| ‘R’. Good, good, good, good. That’s good. Come on, come on. ‘I.. G... H... T... H... E... R... E…’.‘Right here’. ||

Stephanie frowns, worriedly. Yeah, I know it doesn’t make any sense but it’s true.

“Come on, Mom. Understand. Please.” Will begged, quietly.

|| ‘Right here’? I… I-I don’t know what that means. I need you to tell me what to do. What should I do? How do I get to you guys? How do I find you? What should I do? ||

“Um…” Will looks over at the teenager. “What should we tell her?”

Steph’s mouth opens and closes quickly. What do they tell her if they’re not even sure what this place is? “Fuck… um…” She scratches her head. “How about–”

. “I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING.” .

The vicious voice seemed to spread itself around the house like a disease making the hair on their necks stand, and a chill ran up their spines. And then all the supposed “dead” electricity started going off, turning the whole house into a light show; Radios and TVs started going frantic; Fans turning on and spinning around too.

Will starts looking around all disoriented. “Steph, what’s going on?”

“I–” She gasps as she hears the infamous growl in the distance, then the sound of the beast trying to bust through the wall behind her. “Will!!”

The boy frantically writes something out of his mother, just as the monster’s claw broke through the house. Steph takes a quick shot to stun it enough for them to run out the back door – From there, they were off running into the forest.

Again.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Joyce set the brush down, her alphabet wall was done and ready to use. She takes a few steps back so she can see the whole thing, and rubs her hands impatiently.

“Okay.” She breathes, mentally preparing herself. “Okay, baby, talk to me. Talk to me. Where are you guys?” It takes only a second for a letter to appear. “‘R’. Good, good, good, good. That’s good. Come on, come on. ‘I.. G... H... T... H... E... R... E…’.‘Right here’.”

What?

That doesn’t make sense. What do they mean they’re right here?

“‘Right here’?” She says again, puzzled. “I… I-I don’t know what that means. I need you to tell me what to do. What should I do? How do I get to you guys? How do I find you? What should I do?”

She sees the light flicker again, and waits to see what they spell. Slight spoiler…

It was not what she expected them to say.

They were letters that were going to take her breath away.

And then all the lights in the house turned on and flickers rapidly, a sound of growling coming from behind. Scarcely, she turns to find something trying to crawl out of her wall. Terrified to even scream or speak, she starts to back away towards the door as a beast breaks through the wallpaper and hisses.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The boys biked faster and faster, trying to catch up to the emergency vehicles, fearing the worst was yet to come. Just like they suspected, they ended up right at Sattler Quarry.

Meanwhile, Hopper was shaking, praying that what Callahan told him was not true. He arrives at the scene to find paramedics going deep into the water, two stretchers trailing behind. He doesn’t even know if he parked the car or not as he rushes out; A terrible, terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He runs and blends into the crowd of firemen, waiting (im)patiently for their findings.

“Oh, Jesus.” He mutters, trying so hard to keep his composure. “Oh, God. Please tell me it’s not the kids.”

The boys and El hid behind a truck, hearts in their throats as they watched as a waterlogged body of a boy was being loaded on the stretcher – soon followed by a larger female.

As soon as he saw the clothes, as soon as he saw the color of their hair, Hopper knew he was too late. Not wanting to break down right there and scream, he turns away and heads to his car. How in the world was he going to be able to tell Joyce and Claudia about this? How was he going to tell them that he failed to save their children after they begged him to? What could he have done differently to change this atrocious outcome?

The boys were shaking their heads from afar, not wanting to believe what they’re seeing. It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare. It has to be! They can’t really be–

“It can’t be them.” Mike choked, shaking his head. “It can’t be.”

“It’s Will and Steph.” Lucas says, lips quivering. Both boys were a mess, almost coming undone, but Dustin…

Oh, Dustin.

He felt like he was about to faint.

“Phanie…?” He whispers, taking a step back while holding his head. No. No. No, No, No, No, No, No, No, No, No– No! This can’t be real! This can’t be! She can’t be–

“It’s really them.” Lucas said, after getting another look once the bodies were brought back to shore. Tears were in his eyes, and they were ones he wasn’t even going to try to hide like he normally would.

Same thing goes with Mike, who was hugging himself, and sobbed. His best friend was gone. A girl that was like a sister to him was gone. He just couldn’t… wait. “Dustin?” He begins, looking over his friend who seemed so far away from this world.

It was a scary look, enough for even El to get scared and worried. She reached out to him, to comfort him; She even muttered his name for the first time.

To everyone’s surprise, he slaps her hand away.

“‘Dustin’? ‘Dustin’, what?!” He snaps, hatefully. “You were supposed to help us find them alive. You said my sister was alive?! Why did you lie to us?” He points at her, scaring her again. “What’s wrong with you? What is wrong with you?!”

Eleven stays quiet, not even sure what to say from his outburst.

“Say something! Give me an answer, damn it!” He yells, as Lucas and Mike take a step closer.

“Dustin–” Mike tries, but the boy shakes his head and backs away.

“Screw this! Fuck everything!” Dustin turns around and grabs his bike, his friends ushering him to calm down before taking off. But whatever they say wasn’t going to be enough. The Henderson was practically up the hill when they finished their speech, and wasn’t planning on slowing down no matter what happens.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, not too far down the road, Joyce was running for her life – running whatever that thing was that crawled out of her wall. She was so scared that she didn’t even realize a car was coming towards her. Luckily, it stopped mere inches away, causing her to scream.

“Mom?” Jonathan says as he gets out. “Mom, what happened?” His mother couldn’t speak, only reaching out to grab her son and hold on to dear life. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I got you.”

But everything is not okay. Far from it.

Because in the distance, police were coming to inform them of the unfortunate news of their son and brother.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve slips through the sliding door in the back of his house since it was much quieter. He really didn’t feel like facing his parents just yet, and he knows this is around the time at night where they sit around with a glass of wine/beer and watch their shows. He’ll just see and deal with them in the morning, and hopefully they don’t notice any signs that there was a party last night.

He walks lightly across the floors, his mind set to go for the stairs which was going to be a bit tricky since they do tend to creak in some spots. A quick look into the living room he finds his dad on the couch, and his mother standing up but facing the opposite way.

Perfect. He thought and made his move just as his mother’s voice broke through.

The black, wavy haired and brown eyed woman was pacing around a bit, clearly upset about something – or someone to be exact.

“The boy was skipping school today, Richard. Can’t you believe that? How is suppose to keep up his grades?”

Steve had to hold back from groaning as he eye rolled. Here she goes again. He chooses to ignore it, and is about to when he hears the next thing.

“If it wasn’t for his girlfriend calling we would have never known.”

He froze as soon as his foot touched one of the steps. Nancy called?

His girlfriend actually called the house? She was actually calling because she was wondering where he was at? Even after their fight? He could smile because it warms his heart that she cares, but he was also devastated that his mother was the one to pick up the phone. He hasn’t even told–

“On the bright side, he’s dating a Wheeler. A Wheeler! You know what her father does for a living, right?” She chuckles with excitement. “It’s perfect. I can almost cry.”

And here comes another eyeroll. See this is why he didn’t bother mentioning this girlfriend this time around to his mother. He knew once she found out who her family was it was going to be a game changer.

Jesus, Christ. He can’t wait to see what’s in store for him in the morning.

“Well, it beats the other choices he’s had in the past.” His father said, pouring salt into old wounds and making him shake his head.

These freaking people, man. I swear. Steve starts to go up the stairs when he hears another voice; This time it was on the TV.

. < In Other words– breaking news. The bodies of some local children, William Byers and Stephanie Henderson have been found. > .

He froze again, this time more rigid and cold.

No.

No, he didn’t just hear that right.

No, his mind’s just playing tricks on him because of last night…

Right?

. < The children have been missing since the 6th, and local authorities and it’s volunteers worked many hours to bring them home, only for it to end in a tragedy. > .

“About fucking time.” Charles said, raising his beer with joy. “Damn weirdo. I guess our worries about her hanging out with our son again are put to rest.”

Jessica sighs with relief. “Thank God for that. I was tired of seeing her face everywhere.”

“Amen to that.”

He listened to his parents laugh, and clink their drinks together as the world started to spin around him.

No.

This isn’t right. This isn’t right. This isn’t right. This isn’t right. This isn’t–

He’s not sure how much noise he made, or if he made any, but Steve was out the door again in a split second – running straight for his car where he’ll speed off to the unknown parts of Hawkins.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dustin stumbles inside his house, slamming the door with more force than necessary. Maybe it was necessary ‘cause it got his mother’s attention. She came from the other room, asking what’s going on as he stares at her with a red face and puffy eyes, cheeks stained with tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

“Dustin? What’s wrong?”

He felt like something was wrapped around his vocal cords, and there was a knife sticking into his chest, and there was something hot poking at his lungs. He has to speak. He has to tell her. It’s better if she knows from his lips rather than a man in blue.

“Dustin?” She tries again, getting closer.”

“M-Mom…” He begins, his whole body starting to tremble. “St-Stephanie… sh-she’s… she’s…” Oh, god. Why can’t he freaking say it?

“She’s what?” Claudia asked, worriedness creeping up onto her features.

“Sh-She’s… she’s gone.” He whispers into a sob. “Th-They found them both in… I-In the quarry.” Another sob. “Th-They’re b-both gone. M-Mom. St-Stephanie’s gone…”

And then his mother started to shake her head and said ‘No’, followed by Dustin’s reassurance. This went back and forth for who knows how long, but it ended with Claudia being in the same state as her son – a hobbling mess.

“I-It’s true…” He gasps. “I-I saw it my-myself. They’re r-really b-both gone.” And then he broke down again, this time in her arms. She holds him tight, trying to be the strong one here.

“Shh, baby, we’ll get through this.” She soothes, rubbing the curls on the back of his neck. Her son grips onto her clothes, burying his head into her chest and lets out never ending gasps for air.

“Mommy…” He choked, as his ears picked up on the sirens in front of his house.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve’s surprised the gas pedal hasn’t gone through the floorboard yet with how much force he’s applying. He doesn’t even know where he’s going, doesn’t even know if he’s hit something, or runs a red light, but he does know that he’s not anywhere near the speed limit.

The news story was still playing around in his head and it was certainly not helping the situation.

. < From the looks of it, the poor children had plummeted into the quarry and ended up drowning with possible hypothermia. But the mystery still remains on why these two disappeared in the first place. Hopefully, the police can find the answer to that, and bring some closure to the grieving families. > < Hopefully so, Liz. I can only imagine what they’re going through right now. > < Everyone here at WCPK would like to give our condolences. And we advise everyone watching to give a moment of silence for the children. > .

Steve slams on the breaks, the wheels spinning and making an awful sound as he stops along one of the abandoned roads in the town. He starts breathing heavily, which slowly turns into panting. His heartbeat was in his ears, his throat tight and dry, his brown eyes starting to gloss over.

“Fuck…” He whispers, in disbelief. No matter how many times he thinks this is a dream, thinks that maybe they were wrong and it was two other kids they found, his guts tells him ‘No’ and ‘This is real’.

“Fuck…” He says again, the pain was slowly turning into anger which eventually led to him banging on every surface in his car. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!”

Stephanie Henderson was dead. The girl he knew since five was dead. The girl he made promises with was dead. The girl who was there for him at his every low was dead. The girl who was the only one to make him really laugh and smile was dead.

The girl he had to give up to protect was dead.

Stephanie Henderson… The girl that was his friend.

No.

Screw that!

He didn’t want to make that choice but he had to.

The girl that is, and will always be, his friend is dead.

She was just supposed to keep moving on in her life, she was just supposed to keep hating him until she completes her dreams. She was supposed to stay in Hawkins and pretend not to know him until her dream life opens up and whisks her away.

She was supposed to be alive and safe.

She wasn’t supposed to be dead at the bottom of a quarry with a boy she offered to protect.

Everything he did to make sure she lived was now pointless.

Now, tears rolled down his face, his hands trembling and his lower lip quivered. Every emotion he kept locked up from their old friendship had returned and it was eating him away, tearing him bit by bit, suffocating him till he turned blue.

He still couldn’t believe it. He wishes he could blink and reality would reveal it was just another dream.

He knows it won’t be like that. It never will be. So instead…

Steve found himself screaming until his throat ran raw.

(TBC)

A/N: Did I emotionally destroy all of you enough? I apologize a bit if so...

~~~

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