#stranger things season 2 reader insert

[whosscruffylooking]

Open Arms Chapter One

steve harrington x fem!reader Open Arms Masterlist word count : 6k Rewrite/Character Insert of Stranger Things This chapter takes place during Season 2 Episodes 1-5

~1984~

Chapter Two

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Another day in Hawkins. Another day of high school. Another day stuck in the same small, sleepy town you’ve known for as long as you can remember. It feels like nothing ever changes here, like every day just blurs into the next, predictable and quiet.

Every day, you wake up wishing for some kind of miracle, something that could shake things up, make life a little less ordinary. Something that could turn your world… Upside Down.

“Y/N!” your mom calls out from the kitchen, “Is Steve giving you a ride today?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Mom, seriously…when was the last time Steve drove me to school? He has a girlfriend to pick up now.”

Steve, your best friend since the first grade. To everyone else he was The Reigning King of Hawkins High. To you he was just the boy next door who reigns havoc on your life, makes everything a little more complicated whether you want it or not. 

Your mom hums thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time you found yourself a boyfriend.”

“I’m perfectly fine, thanks.”

She gives a little shrug. “I’m just saying, wouldn’t it be nice to be taken out on a date once in a while?”

“Mom,” you sigh, “please take your matchmaking somewhere else.”

She’s not wrong, though. You haven’t let yourself even think about dating anyone else since the last “almost” with Steve. Around a year ago, he’d done something reckless enough to mess up things with Nancy, and she seemed to be getting closer to Jonathan Byers. You had just gotten out of a relationship yourself. 

It happens every time: he messes things up with a girl, or you’re fresh out of a breakup, and suddenly, like clockwork, you’re back in each other’s lives, circling each other. It’s as if you’re both bound to this endless cycle of almosts—falling together just to fall apart again. You know the game by heart, and you’re tired of it, tired of the late nights that never lead to anything real, the unspoken words that hang heavy in the air between you both. But still, you can’t seem to let go.

Nothing ever actually happens. You just end up crashing at each other’s houses, watching movies till you both fall asleep, or driving out to Lover’s Lake to stargaze and rant about your trainwreck love lives. But you both know what it is—and what it isn’t. The truth is, you’re bound by a history no one else could touch. Growing up together, you made the stupid decision of being a lot of each other’s firsts, and you’ve always been the one person who truly gets him. It’s a bond that runs deeper than most things in your life, yet it never seems to go anywhere beyond these stolen moments. And maybe that’s why it hurts the most—knowing he’s always right there but never fully yours.

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At school, you overhear the girls in the hallway whispering about the new guy in town. Though “guy” isn’t the word they use—they’re calling him a real man, with a muscle car to match and actual muscles to back it up. You’ve never been the type to shy away from guys, and you’ve certainly never had any trouble attracting attention. Still, something about the way they talk about him piques your curiosity, though you’d never admit it.

You notice the once-empty locker beside yours is finally in use, a few things tossed inside. You wonder briefly who claimed it. That curiosity doesn’t last long.

“Excuse me, gorgeous, but I think that’s my locker.”

You turn to find the living, breathing embodiment of the girls’ descriptions. Tall, sharp-jawed, with piercing blue eyes, and that effortless, cocky grin. You don’t even have to ask if it’s him.

“Oh—my bad,” you say, stepping aside.

“And what’s your name?” he asks, his smile unwavering.

Who does he remind you of?

“Y/N…” You try to pinpoint it, that nagging sense of familiarity.

He tosses his keys into the locker, eyes still fixed on yours, something almost playful in his gaze.

Then it hits you.

“I’m—”

“Knight Rider?” you say slyly, a smirk playing at your lips. He blushes just a little, caught off guard, and you savor the small victory.

“Well played,” he says, taking your hand into his for a confident but gentle shake.

“That’s just the beginning,” you respond, shutting your locker with a quiet click, eager to keep the mystery between you two alive.

“I hope so. I’m Billy by the way,” he replies, his voice softer now, still slightly in awe of you. There’s something in his eyes—a challenge. And you can tell, he’s baited.

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At lunch, you find yourself walking through the crowded cafeteria, scanning the room for a familiar face. As luck would have it, you bump into Nancy and Steve near the food line.

“Hey,” Steve greets, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity. “What did you think of the new guy? Total douche, right?”

You catch the look on his face, a mix of hope and something else you can’t quite place. It’s clear he’s fishing for your opinion, eager for you to agree with him.

You shrug, trying to keep your tone casual, though you can’t hide the small smirk tugging at your lips. “I mean…” Your voice comes out just a bit higher than usual, betraying your uncertainty. “He’s like the entire cast of The Outsiders wrapped up in one package.” You leave it at that, the playful jab hanging in the air between you three.

Nancy chuckles, gripping her tray closely as she looks between you and Steve. You take the opportunity to point at her, nodding toward Steve. “Looks like your girl might agree with me too.”

Nancy gasps and bursts into laughter. “I don’t know, I guess. He’s not really my type though.”

You smirk, not missing a beat. “That’s so funny, because I’m pretty sure I saw a David Hasselhoff photo in your locker just last week?”

Steve’s face falls slightly, and you catch the brief flash of disappointment in his eyes. “Oh please,” he says, his tone a bit too defensive, “he is not David Hasselhoff.”

“Knight Rider,” Nancy interjects, her eyes darting between you and Steve. You both freeze, caught off guard.

“What?” You ask, happy she sees the resemblance too.

Nancy looks back and forth between you two, realization dawning on her. “He has the car, the curls, and the mus—muscle car.”

You raise an eyebrow, teasing her. “You just said the car twice. Sure you didn’t mean another kind of muscle?”

Nancy giggles at your comment, but Steve pushes you playfully, though there’s a layer of something more in his touch—like he’s trying to keep things light but it doesn’t quite feel like it used to.

“Have I told you that I hate you?” Steve mutters under his breath, though it’s more playful than anything else.

You smile, your tone laced with the usual teasing. “All too often.”

But as you both lock eyes, something shifts. It’s not just a playful exchange anymore. The usual banter feels heavy now, the space between you both thick with unspoken words. Steve’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same distance creeping between you two that you’ve been trying so hard to ignore. You quickly look away, forcing the feeling down as Nancy continues to laugh, unaware of the sudden tension lingering.

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You’re walking down the hall, a few steps ahead of Steve, the sounds of lockers slamming and voices all around you fading as the tension between you both hangs in the air. Every time you glance over your shoulder, his gaze is already on you—lingering, just a bit too long.

You both fall into an uneasy silence. It’s not the comfortable quiet you used to share, but something heavier. Something unspoken.

You stop for a moment, unsure of what to say. “I’ll see you in class,” you murmur, turning to leave.

But Steve’s voice stops you. “Hey,” he calls softly, his hand brushing yours as he steps into your path. His touch is warm, too warm for something so casual. His fingers linger for a split second before he pulls away, but the moment still sits between you, unresolved.

You look up, meeting his eyes. His usual cocky confidence is gone, replaced by something more vulnerable. It’s almost as if he’s waiting for you to say something, anything to break the silence.

“Steve…” You don’t know what you’re going to say. You want to say something that makes it all feel normal again, but the words feel stuck in your throat.

He opens his mouth, hesitates, then shuts it again. “Never mind.” The smile he forces doesn’t reach his eyes again. It’s strained, tight. And suddenly, you can’t look at him anymore.

Turning quickly, you walk past him, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

From down the hall, Nancy watches the exchange, arms folded, leaning against the locker as she observes. There’s no jealousy in her gaze—she’s been there too. She knows the space between two people who care for each other but don’t know how to bridge it. She’s seen it with Jonathan, with the way they get tangled in unspoken words and moments that feel like too much, but too little at the same time. It’s just the way things go sometimes.

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*Flashback*

2 years ago

It’s a Friday afternoon, and the hallways of Hawkins High are quieter than usual. Most of the students have gone home, leaving the echoes of footsteps and lockers slamming shut. You and Steve are walking side by side, the familiar warmth of his presence at your side like it always has been—comforting, easy.

You laugh as Steve pulls an exaggerated face, trying to get you to laugh at his antics as he mimics one of the teachers. You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile spreading across your face.

“You’re such an idiot,” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

He bumps you back, almost knocking you into the lockers. “You love me for it,” he smirks, and there’s a hint of something else in his gaze, something unspoken that lingers between you, like a question neither of you has the courage to ask.

You roll your eyes again, but there’s no denying the way your heart skips. “Yeah, maybe,” you say, trying to brush it off. But you both know that maybe means something more.

You reach the end of the hallway, your steps slowing as the moment stretches, neither of you wanting to be the first to turn back, to end this rare, quiet time between just the two of you.

He glances over at you, his steps slowing, his voice quieter when he speaks again. “Hey, so… Bryan still around?”

You stop walking, surprised by the question, but it’s Steve, and it’s always been easy with him. “No,” you reply, shaking your head. “He’s out of the picture.”

Steve’s expression softens, a slight smile playing on his lips as if the weight of something between you two has been lifted. “Good. He never really seemed like the right guy for you.”

Your breath catches slightly at the unexpected warmth in his words, but you don’t let it show. “Yeah, well… sometimes you don’t really see things until it’s too late.”

Steve nods, looking down for a moment as if he’s trying to decide something. He looks back up at you, his usual carefree grin returning. “Well, if you’re not busy tonight, you wanna come over to my place? We can grab some takeout, watch movies… you know, normal hangout stuff.”

There’s something in his invitation that feels different this time, but you brush it off. It’s Steve. He always invites you over. You’ve done it a million times before—movies, pizza, talking about everything and nothing. It’s what you do.

“Yeah,” you agree, “sounds good.”

Steve’s eyes flicker down to your lips, then back to your eyes, his expression shifting. You feel your stomach flutter, the air between you thickening as the playful banter dies down.

You find yourself leaning in, just a bit, and you see Steve’s breath catch, the tip of his nose almost brushing yours.

But before you can get any closer, a loud bang from down the hall makes both of you snap apart like you’ve been caught.

You both step back, instantly awkward, eyes darting everywhere except at each other. The spell breaks, but the tension still lingers, heavy in the air. You glance at Steve, and his expression is unreadable—like he’s trying to hide something, or maybe it’s you who’s hiding it.

You break the silence first, a half-laugh escaping your lips. “Well… that was close.”

Steve rubs the back of his neck, looking embarrassed but also relieved. “Yeah, totally. We’re just—uh, messing around, right?”

You nod, trying to brush it off, but your heart is racing, and you know he feels it too. “Right. Just messing around.”

But neither of you says anything more. You both head in opposite directions down the hallway, still feeling the echo of what almost happened, both of you wondering if the other is thinking about it too.

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At last, it’s the day of the party. You’ve spent longer than you’d like to admit getting ready, but you’re finally happy with your look. Blue bell-bottom jeans, a tight orange top with a center zip that falls just below the line of modesty—it’s bold, but you feel good in it. Confident, even.

You arrive at the party, a mix of excitement and nerves swirling inside you. The music pulses through the house, and people are scattered, laughing and talking, their faces blurry in the haze of a dimly lit room. As much as you try to act like you don’t care, the anxiety creeps in. Funny how someone so confident can still feel out of place in a crowd.

You push through, trying to find your core group, but as you weave through the bodies, there’s really only one person you’re looking for. Steve. The one person who has always had a way of making you feel like you belong.

On your way through the crowd, you bump into Jonathan Byers. Another one of your longtime friends. You’ve all grown up together in Hawkins, so you’ve seen each other through the years—some friendships stronger than others, but still, it’s hard to forget those familiar faces.

“Jonathan!” you call out with a smile, pulling him into a quick hug. “Loving the look, very you.” You nod at his usual, low-key style—flannel and jeans. He’s always been the quiet, thoughtful one in the group, and you just want him to feel good about his understated vibe.

“I like… your shirt,” he says, his words trailing off awkwardly.

Well, at least your shirt is doing what you intended it to. Maybe just not with the target audience.

“Looking for Nancy?” you ask, hoping he’ll pick up the conversation.

“Yeah,” Jonathan responds, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I don’t really associate with anyone else here.”

You put on a mock-offended face, “Ouch.”

He immediately backpedals, realizing how it sounded. “I mean, you were gone for a while. We kinda lost touch.” His gaze drops a little, clearly uncomfortable, referring to the time when your parents separated again, and you spent some months with your mom in California. It had been a rough time for you, especially being away from Steve. You’re still not sure how you survived that.

“Well, I’m back now,” you say, brushing off the past. “Come on, join me. I’m on a mission to find Steve and Nancy.”

Jonathan nods, grateful for the company. “Alright, lead the way.”

And there he is, leaning against the wall by the kitchen, laughing at something someone said, a bottle of beer loosely held in his hand. He’s effortlessly cool as usual, but there’s something different tonight. Maybe it’s the way his eyes flicker over to Nancy every now and then, or the tightness in his posture that betrays the casual air he’s trying to maintain.

Nancy stands next to him, arms crossed, her jaw clenched in that familiar way when she’s upset—though it’s hard to say if it’s the alcohol or something else that’s fueling her frustration tonight. She’s leaning a little too heavily on the counter, her face flushed, the words she’s muttering barely audible over the noise of the party.

Steve’s smile is gone now, replaced by a more serious expression. He’s trying to keep things light, but it’s clear she’s not having it. 

As you and Jonathan walk toward the kitchen, you spot Steve and Nancy in their little world, tucked away by the counter. You can hear the edge in Nancy’s voice, even from a distance, though you can’t make out the words. Jonathan follows your gaze, his brow furrowing. You can’t blame him for looking the way he does—he’s been around long enough to know the dance between Steve and Nancy.

“Is she okay?” you ask, your voice quiet, though it feels more like an automatic question than one you really expect an answer to. You’ve seen enough of this cycle to know the routine.

Jonathan glances over, shaking his head just slightly. “I don’t think so,” he says, a rare seriousness in his tone. “But you know Nancy. She’ll push through.”

You feel the knot in your stomach tighten as you watch Steve’s stance shift, his body leaning toward Nancy as if trying to reach her without crowding her, trying to give her space but also not let her slip too far away. There’s something fragile in the air, something more than just the tension between them. It’s like Steve’s holding on by a thread, and maybe Nancy is, too, but neither of them wants to admit it.

“You should probably go talk to them,” Jonathan says, glancing at you. He doesn’t know what to say either, but it’s obvious that Steve’s been trying to manage things on his own. You could step in—or let him handle it.

You glance at Jonathan again, silently debating what to do. Jonathan nudges you gently with his elbow. “You good?” he asks. You nod, taking a step forward, your voice hesitant but warm. “Hey, guys, what’s going on?” you ask, trying to break through the tension without adding to it.

Nancy shoots you a sharp look before turning away, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind. He’s got that defeated, yet resigned, look on his face as he exhales deeply. He’s trying to hide it, but the frustration is written all over him.

“Just the usual,” Steve says with a small, forced smile, looking at you.

Nancy, still with her arms crossed, shoots you a look that says more than her words do. It’s not that she’s mad at you; it’s just that she doesn’t want to be the center of attention right now. She’s not ready to have the conversation.

Jonathan stands by you, hands in his pockets, waiting for you to say something. You don’t know what the right thing is. The silence in the room is thick now.

“I’m gonna go get another drink,” Nancy slurs, her words trailing off as she pushes past Steve, who’s still trying to calm her down.

“Please don’t,” Steve says, his voice low and frustrated, but he’s too late. He sighs and chases after her, leaving you standing alone for the moment.

Not long after, a voice you’re starting to recognize from the past few days calls out from behind you.

“So if I’m Knight Rider, then who does that make you?” Billy’s voice is smooth, cocky, and unmistakable. He’s standing just a few feet away now, that grin still plastered on his face.

You turn to meet his gaze, letting a playful smile tug at the corners of your lips. You raise an eyebrow, a silent challenge in your eyes. “You’ll have to learn more about me to find out.”

He steps a little closer, eyes narrowing with amusement. “When?”

The question hangs in the air, and for a split second, you feel that old rush of excitement—the thrill of the unknown. Remembering your mom’s less-than-subtle hints this morning, you decide to play along.

“How about Wednesday night? We can go see the new Terminator movie. You look like someone who appreciates a little Arnold Schwarzenegger,” you say, testing the waters, letting a hint of flirtation slip into your voice.

Billy doesn’t hesitate, that confident grin of his widening. “It’s a date. I’ll pick you up. And…I’ve been to the gym Arnold works out in.” 

You raise your hand to stop him, a slight smirk on your face. “Right…I’m sure you have. Also, I’ve seen how you drive your car. Maybe I’ll meet you there,” you tease, enjoying the playful banter.

He chuckles, stepping back, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. “I’ll go nice and slow just for you.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, the tension between you both shifting into something lighter, something you haven’t felt in a while. But as you look past him, your eyes flicker briefly to Steve, catching him trying to pry the solo cup out of Nancy’s hand. Just as the music halts, that red solo cup and the red mystery punch within it spills all over Nancy’s white shirt. 

Her face is in complete disbelief, she sways back and forth her reaction clearly slowed down by her alcohol intake.

“Screw you.” 

Jonathan follows her quickly into the bathroom. 

“You know,” Billy starts again, “Rumor has it that you and Harrington have quite the colorful history? Why is it that you two aren’t prom king and queen this year?” 

Something in Billy’s tone instantly makes you second-guess your plans for Wednesday. His fading smirk tells you he’s noticed the flash of disdain on your face.

“What does it matter if you’re the one taking me on a date Wednesday?” you say, your voice edged with a warning. You’re feeling oddly protective over you and Harrington’s history, a past that’s none of Billy’s business.

Billy raises an eyebrow, caught off guard but intrigued. “Fair enough,” he replies, but the cocky glint in his eyes lingers, as if he’s still sizing up the situation.

Shortly after, you spot Steve storming out of the bathroom alone, Nancy nowhere in sight. His expression is tense as he heads straight for the drink station, a familiar frustration in his stride. You catch a glimpse of Jonathan making his way toward Nancy, so you turn to Billy with a polite excuse and make your way over to Steve.

“Hey, you don’t need to be drinking any more right now,” you say, noticing that Steve has downed two cups of punch in the short walk it took to reach him.

“I’ve got a pretty damn good reason to,” he mutters, his jaw tight as he opens a beer.

“Steve, you don’t have to tell me what happened, but at least think about the fact that you still have to drive home,” you warn, trying to keep your tone light.

He shrugs, avoiding your eyes. “You can drive me.”

“I never volunteered for that,” you reply, crossing your arms.

For a moment, he looks at you, really looks at you, and you can tell he’s realizing that things are different. You’re not just there to pick up his pieces anymore. You have your own life to live tonight—a party to enjoy, and maybe even boys to dance with. The weight of another round of Steve-and-Nancy drama? That’s not something you’re willing to carry this time.

“You’re right,” Steve says, setting the beer down with a sigh. “I’ll just go sit out on the porch and sober up a bit. Then I’ll head out. And I wanna make sure Nancy gets home safe.”

You give his arm a quick squeeze, silently admiring that, even in the middle of an argument, he’s still looking out for her. That is… until his gaze drifts to the front door, where he sees Jonathan helping a barely-standing Nancy out to his car.

Crap.

“Go sit on the porch. I’ll be right there,” you say quickly, hinting you’ll handle it. You rush outside to catch up with Jonathan. “You know how this looks, right?”

Jonathan gives a solemn nod. “She asked me.”

Nancy lifts her head slightly, her words slurred and muddled. “I don’t want… Steve to take me home. Not Steve. I want to see Barb’s parents. Take me to Barb’s house.”

You pause, taken aback. “Barb’s parents? Why do you want to see Barb’s parents right now?”

Jonathan stiffens, worry flickering in his eyes. “Uh, I really think I should get her home now. Maybe check on Steve too.”

Without another word, they’re off, leaving you standing in the night with a sense of unease. You know Barbara Holland was Nancy’s best friend, missing since last year. But why would she bring that up now? And why with such urgency?

You find Steve out back, leaning against the porch railing, eyes glazed with frustration and a hint of sadness.

“Steve…why would Nancy want to see Barb’s parents tonight?”

He shakes his head slowly, the alcohol clearly loosening his grip on restraint. “God, I wish I could tell you everything right now. It would make things so much easier. You’re my best friend. I tell you everything. But for the past year, I’ve been keeping so many secrets from you.”

A pit forms in your stomach. “What do you mean, Steve?”

He looks at you, eyes haunted, and whispers, “If I told you, you’d die.”

You laugh nervously, trying to shake the unease settling over you. “C’mon, it can’t be that serious.”

“There’s stuff going on around here that you have no clue about.” He reaches up, gently brushing a stray hair from your face, his fingers lingering a second longer than they should. Your heart skips, half hoping this is just the alcohol, half hoping it’s not. He always does this, walks that fine line.

His voice cracks slightly as he murmurs, “I just want to keep you safe.”

In that moment, you realize it’s not just words—it’s a plea, and you can feel the weight of something dark lurking just beyond his gaze, something he desperately wants to shield you from. 

You give Steve a gentle pinch, trying to ground him. “I’m safe, Steve. I’m right here, see?”

But he only shakes his head, eyes dark with something close to dread. “Here is where it’s least safe. Those things… they’re out there.”

A chill runs down your spine. “What things, Steve?” You search his face, recognizing the unmistakable truth behind his words.

He just looks away, jaw clenched. Instinctively, your mind flashes back to last year, the disappearances of Will Byers and Barb. Then Nancy and Jonathan, vanishing for days without a word. Everyone assumed Jonathan had to hold things together while Joyce spiraled, refusing to believe her son was dead. There was even a funeral, and she still wouldn’t admit it. Then, against all logic, Will came back with no real explanation.

You remember Steve acting strangely after everything went down. He kept trying to make peace with Jonathan over the fight they got into outside the movie theater, but he dodged every question you asked about the night he went to Jonathan’s house, laughing nervously or changing the subject so fast it left you spinning. Then there was the night you found a bat in the trunk of his car—nails hammered into it like some kind of makeshift weapon. When you questioned him, he just shrugged it off, calling it a “guy thing,” and you let it go, though every instinct told you there was more to the story.

Whenever you pushed for answers, Steve would wave it off, teasing you about reading too many mysteries and spending too much time theorizing. But seeing the fear in his eyes now, the weight he’s carrying, it hits you like a punch: you were right to question everything. And he knows it, too.

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You drive Steve’s car back to his house, figuring you’ll pick up your mom’s in the morning. One night won’t matter.

Helping him up to his room, you can’t shake the strange coincidences piling up around Hawkins.

“I missed this,” he mumbles, settling onto his bed.

“What?”

“You… in my room,” he says softly, grabbing your hand. “Stay tonight. Don’t leave.”

“You have a girlfriend, Steve. I don’t stay over when you have a girlfriend.”

He sighs, eyes full of something almost desperate. “What kind of girlfriend says she isn’t really in love with you?”

You freeze. “I’m sorry—what?”

“She said we’re just… acting like we’re in love,” he says, voice rough with frustration and something else.

You can see it—the hurt he’s tried to bury, the way he’s tried so hard to be enough for someone. To finally feel wanted.

His arms slip around your waist, his head resting against your stomach, and you feel his shoulders shake. Silent tears he doesn’t want you to see.

“Hey, hey… She was drunk, okay? Everyone says stupid things when they’re drunk. Talk to her tomorrow. It’ll be fine.”

“She meant it,” he whispers, his voice breaking.

You gently push him back onto the bed, pulling the covers over him. “You’ve got a long day tomorrow, Steve. Get some rest, and we’ll figure out the Nancy thing together.”

You hate to leave him like this, but you know it’s the right thing to do. So, once again, you walk away, leaving your best friend alone with his heartbreak and the last traces of alcohol on his breath. Another turn in the endless cycle that is your friendship—always there for him, even as it pulls you back into the same, unbroken loop.

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The next day, Billy and Steve square off on the basketball court, the air thick with tension. Billy’s been taunting him non-stop, poking at Steve’s so-called “King Steve” reputation like it’s a worn-out joke. But Steve keeps his cool, mostly.

Until Billy casually drops your name.

“So tell me, Harrington,” Billy sneers with a smirk, “what made you go for the Wheeler girl over Y/N?”

Steve feels the muscles in his jaw clench, but he doesn’t take the bait. He knows better than to react. But Billy’s not done. He moves closer, a low chuckle escaping as he continues, “I mean, the King and the Princess of Hawkins High—cute match and all. But damn, man, have you seen the hips on her? Perfect for holding onto. Word is you already took her for a test drive, too. So I gotta wonder… why didn’t you ever claim her? Or maybe you just weren’t man enough?”

Steve’s control snaps. He shoves Billy hard, fire in his eyes as he stands inches from him, fists clenched. “Say one more thing about her. I dare you.”

Billy laughs, clearly enjoying himself, but there’s an edge to Steve’s stance, a fierce protectiveness that makes even Billy pause. Steve glares, his voice low and dangerous. “Y/N’s worth more than someone like you will ever know. So keep her name out of your mouth, or you’ll regret it.”

Right on cue, Nancy’s soft voice cuts through the tension. “Steve?” She stands just a few feet away, looking pale and uneasy, clearly having seen the entire thing unfold.

Billy smirks, throwing a last taunt over his shoulder. “Good luck, Harrington.” He saunters off, leaving Steve standing there, fists still clenched, his heart pounding.

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“Y/N!” your mom calls from downstairs. “Steve is here!”

Steve coming through the front door? That’s unusual—he’s always climbed the vines up to your window. You quickly spray a bit of perfume, fix your hair, then catch yourself in the mirror. Why are you even putting in effort for him?

When you come down, your mom throws you an excited smile, her back to Steve so he can’t see. She’s still holding onto that hope she’s had since first grade that you and Steve would end up together.

And then there he is, standing in the entryway with a bouquet of sunflowers—your favorite. Your heart stumbles as you take in every inch of him. For a brief second, you let yourself imagine you’re the only girl he brings flowers to. But realistically, he’s probably just coming from Nancy’s or on his way there next.

He hands you the flowers, his gaze lingering. “Thank you for everything.”

“It’s no big deal,” you say, trying to steady your voice.

“Well, I should get going,” he says, and your heart sinks. That’s it? 

“But, uh, make sure to open your window. There’s a nice breeze out tonight,” he adds with a wink. You bite back a smile, catching on.

You say your goodbyes and dash up the stairs, ignoring your mom’s questions as Steve leaves. You open your window, sitting on your bed, waiting for him like you have a hundred times before. Somehow, after all these years, the excitement still feels brand new.

“Miss me?” He slips through the window, quietly so your mom doesn’t hear, and makes himself at home. He turns on your record player, the soft hum of music filling the room, then joins you on the bed.

He stares down at his hands. “I’m sorry for the position I put you in last night. It wasn’t fair, and you deserve better.”

You try to catch his gaze, but he’s clearly embarrassed. “That’s what best friends are for,” you say, hoping to ease his guilt.

You bite your tongue, unsure whether to bring up what he shared last night—but you’ve never hidden things from each other, and you don’t want to start now. “You told me about Nancy… how she said it felt like you were just acting in love.”

He sighs, defeated. “Yeah. I confronted her about it today. Asked if she could say she loved me, and she couldn’t.”

Your heart aches for him. “I’m sorry, Steve. Maybe she’s just… having a moment. A lot’s happened this year.”

The silence hangs between you for a moment, heavy with unsaid words.

“I’m gonna bring her flowers after this. I don’t think it’ll change anything, but she deserves an apology for everything I put her through,” he finally says, breaking the quiet. You smile, resting your hand on his knee. “I think that’s a good idea.”

He looks down at your hand on his knee, his fingers hovering for a moment before he covers it with his own. His expression softens, a hint of something he quickly tries to hide, but you can see it—a sadness mixed with a reluctant acceptance, like he knows exactly what all of this means.

He lets out a quiet sigh, staring at your intertwined hands. There’s a heaviness in his eyes. Like even if things with Nancy are ending, there’s something between you and him that’s never quite let go.

His fingers tighten around yours, just for a second, before he releases your hand and gives you a small, bittersweet smile.

“You should go,” you whisper. You don’t want him to. But he needs to. 

He reluctantly resigns himself.

“Can I come pick you up in an hour? Maybe we can go to the movies or something?”

You know you should say no, but you can’t. “If you and Nancy aren’t making out and making up within the next hour then yes, we can go to a movie.” 

He stares at you, and you can’t quite read him. You avert your gaze. 

“It’s so funny,” he speaks almost as if he can’t believe himself, “No matter what…or who…I always need you.” 

And with that he’s out the window and on his way to try and win back another woman.

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[thepascalofus]

Supply Run - Return (part two)

AO3

PART ONE

Supply Run - Exchange (part three)

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x afab!Reader

Word Count: 8.0k

Summary: You’ve been Mando’s crew partner for a year now. Throughout that year Mando has warmed up to you and given you signs that your heart throbbing crush on him is reciprocated. There’s one thing making you hesitate. The condoms he bought on the most recent supply run.

Chapter Summary: While Mando takes a trip to the market and gets what he needs, he ponders your relationship and what it means to him.

Content Warnings: MDNI, 18+ only! Switching POVs, post season 2, the Crest lives, strangers to friends to lovers, mentions of Grogu, soft!Mando, insecure!Mando (a smidge), helmet loopholes, pining, idiots in love, jealous!reader, sad!reader for a little, mentions of sex work (sex work is work!), eventual SMUT (making out, grinding, f!receiving fingering, f!receiving oral sex, p in v, PRAISE kink, dirty talk), FLUFF, cuddling, happy ending guaranteed!

A/N: Thank you all so much for the responses on the first part! This is my first fic that I've ever shared and it makes me so happy that other people enjoy my writing! Enjoy!

Mando handed his scope off to you in the worn down store. Wallpaper peeled from the ancient wooden planks of the walls. Cobwebs littered the untouched areas of the store. The work stations in the back, visible from the pick up counter at the front, were in complete disarray. Several projects started, but not finished. Several projects finished, but not retrieved.

You took the scope in your hand and twisted it in your hands until your gaze landed on the name of the manufacturer and the serial number. Your eyebrows shot up once the brand of the scope was revealed, it twisted in your hands once more. Hands raising the metal tube so it was level with your eyes, you looked into the scope. 

“Ah! I know what it is!”

Mando watched in confusion as you ran to a workstation and grabbed a singular tool. How did you know what was wrong so quickly? He sat in the hull of the Crest for hours attempting to fix the scope. The motions of taking the scope apart and putting it back together were etched into his brain from the number of times he did so. 

You returned to the front of the store with the tool in hand. “This manufacturer has been having these issues lately. They built their magnification system like no one else, but they didn’t seem to account for the need to recalibrate the scope every once in a while. Recalibrating too often causes the lenses to misalign.” 

Mando calibrated his every day. He had to. It was part of his job. A miscalibration could be the difference between a two hour hunt and a twelve hour hunt.

Your face twisted in concentration as you inserted the tool into the side of the scope. Jostling the metal, it popped open and allowed access to the inside. “For some reason they put these weird pins in…” You trailed off while you removed a total of three thin metal pins. Once the pins were removed, you clicked the top of the scope back into place and handed it to Mando.

Mando previously took the scope apart countless times. He never noticed any pins.

“Twenty credits, please.” You said with a smile. Your gaze met his–you somehow found it through his black visor–and you maintained eye contact.

The display on the inside of Mando’s helmet only progressed seven minutes after he entered the store. Inside of his helmet his eyebrows shot up. He was impressed. Not only with your efficiency, but with the reasonable price as well.

“I’m impressed.” He stated. Nodding at you, he retrieved a few credits from his utility belt and set them on the paint chipped counter. He turned and walked a few paces and then stopped in front of the door.

He’s been looking for a crew mate for weeks. The potential candidates he’s stumbled across were either annoying, rude, or incompetent. Throughout his time as a bounty hunter he’s been to countless repair shops. The service was always lack-luster, prices were too high, repair time much too long. 

Sure, he just met you eight minutes ago, but you had potential. He turned on his heel and faced you. Armor glinted in the low lighting of the run down shop. 

“Are you in the market for a new job?”

–

Walking to the market, he’d been reflecting on his decision to bring you onto the Crest as a crew partner.

It was the best decision he ever made, besides saving Grogu from the Empire.

You were intelligent. Friendly. Resourceful. Efficient. Brave.

You stared a Mandalorian straight in the eyes–well, visor–and didn’t even flinch. You didn’t even break eye contact, unlike everyone else. People would turn to whoever they’re with to avoid his gaze. They spoke like he wasn’t a meter or two away–and like he couldn’t amplify their voices with his helmet.

His tall, broad stance usually set everyone on edge. The heavy weight of beskar armor, a reminder of his skillset, didn’t aid in calming the nerves of anyone either. He was typically soft spoken around others, as he noticed people’s reactions when he spoke–eyes wide, speech stuttering, shaking hands–scared. 

Everyone was afraid of him.

Except you.

When you first boarded the Razor Crest, Mando was extremely careful in making sure you were comfortable. The majority of his days not hunting were spent in the cockpit or in his bunk. Whenever you crossed paths in the hull you offered him a small smile and quickly looked away. Did your bravery fade away?

He came back from a hunt one day, quarry in tow, and he was relieved to hear, “How was your day?” Fall from your lips once the bounty was in carbonite.

Still cautious–mindful of how the modulator made his voice sound–he kept his answers short and to the point.

“Fine.”

“Busy.”

“Awful.”

Hearing the four words you said after each return from a hunt, and being able to give you a response without you slinking away, made the hunts worth it.

One night always stood out in his mind. It was just like any other return from one of his hunts. Mando dragged the quarry up the Crest’s ramp by a cord tied around their ankles. He lifted the man to stand up, doing so effortlessly with a few grunts to spare. 

Your living space was in the hull, so he always tried to make the ends of his hunts fast. You didn’t have any choice but to watch. Mando didn’t want to make you watch for too long. Maker, he didn’t want you to watch at all.

His fist slammed the button to begin the freezing process. Breathing heavily, he stood and watched the bounty as they froze into the carbonite cell. A blanket of silence covered the hull once the hissing of the freezing mechanisms came to a stop.

“How was your day?”

There it is. His favorite part after the hunt. Knowing you were there, safe within the hull, and that you wanted to be friendly with him–even after witnessing him freeze a person he tracked down for several hours.

“Nothing you want to hear about,” he replied, his voice tinged with tiredness. The helmet’s modulator most likely didn’t register the sleep in his voice. Truly, he didn’t think that you would want to hear about it. The Mandalorian was afraid that hearing about his hunts would put you on edge. You already extended a branch of friendliness to him twice a day. He didn’t want to give that up by talking about the bounties he tracks down.

“Try me.”

Those words.

Those words have only ever been spoken to him by enemies. It always caused annoyance to wash over him, head to toe. He’s a Mandalorian. Confident of his skills in combat. No matter the odds, Mando knew he would like them.

But when those words tumbled from your lips, it was different. When his enemies weren’t scared of him, it was annoying. When you weren’t scared of him, adoration filled his body. And not adoration in a patronizing way, but adoration as a form of respect. 

It made him want you that much more.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Mando realized the crotch of his pants were tight. Nonchalantly, he clasped his hands together and rested them below his belt.

“Quarry tried to escape and they ran. Would have been back four hours ago,” the modulator gritted out. Again, he was conscious of how the modulator warped his voice. “Not too fun,” he added in an attempt to make the conversation more casual.

You were silent. He whispered a curse to himself under his helmet, one that he was certain wouldn’t be picked up by his modulator. Was his answer too much? Mando quickly became nervous and started to shift his weight from one foot to the other. The silence you left in the air made him a bit anxious.

The T shape of his visor peered over to you. You stood still in shock, reminiscent of the people that saw him in public. Before his thoughts could spiral too much, you replied, “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Dank farrik. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to comfort him. “You don’t have to be sorry,” his chest brushed against your shoulder as he swiftly hopped onto the first rung of the ladder up to the cockpit. “It’s my job.”

“That doesn’t mean it sucks any less,” you said. He smiled underneath his helmet at your consideration. Your eyes widened and your mouth opened and closed as you realized what you said, “sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that your job sucks.”

You weren’t wrong. Making his way through tough terrain, relying on a blinking red light on a piece of metal to guide him. Finding them was a task in itself, but dragging them back to the Crest was the other half of his job that sucked. Mando looked over his shoulder at you and replied matter-of-factly, “My job does suck.”

A giggle bubbled out from your chest. Every once in a while you would be reading a funny article on your Holopad and your laughs would echo through the hull of the Crest, making their way up into the cockpit. He needed more of them. His silver helmet shook slightly from side to side and he turned back to climb the ladder. But not before he also let out a small chuckle.

If you were comfortable enough to stand up to him, and laugh at his awful attempts at jokes–after he just hauled a bounty onto the ship–Mando realized he was safe.

Not only were you safe with him. He felt safe with you, in more ways than one.

Kriff it. You extended a friendly attitude towards him–a faceless warrior covered in impenetrable armor–then he could extend a friendly attitude towards you as well.

You asked him about this day, both in the mornings and the evenings. He learned about what you like and didn’t like. One item stood out to him. Caf. He always entered into a cloud of caf scent when he sauntered into the hull in the mornings. Mando was usually up before you, so he figured he would start making you a cup every morning. Confident enough in knowing which kinds of caf you preferred, he would stock up on caf every supply run.

The Mandalorian got closer to you, both physically and emotionally. Sometimes he would catch his hands landing on your waist or your lower back when he passed you on the ship. You’d shoot him a small smile in response. The distance he kept from you only decreased. He wanted to see your smile more and more. 

One thing he didn’t see coming was your interest in Mando’a. He would mumble to himself in the ship while completing various tasks.

“What’s that word mean?” You’d occasionally ask. The Mandalorian would explain their meanings, sometimes struggling to translate the word to Basic.

He must have taught you at least two dozen words in Mando’a by now. Each time you asked you would give him your full attention. 

At night, if he amplified the sound with his helmet enough, he could hear you practicing the words and recalling their meanings. It motivated him to share more words with you.

–

All of these experiences have led to this day. He’s been planning it for a month or two now. 

He wants to ask you on a date. Nerves bubbled up from his stomach and throughout his body. They suddenly came to a halt. 

Not now. First, he needs to collect information on a quarry.

Lost in his thoughts, he looked up and the market filled his vision with you in his peripheral. It wasn’t too busy, part of the reason why he was comfortable enough for you to shop on your own. He clarified the meet up point to you and watched as you took off. You had a bounce in your step, probably due to your excitement at shopping alone. 

Once he meandered further into the market he began to collect information. This market was the bounty’s last location. Mando’s guess was that he either simply wanted to be in a small city, gambled their life savings away, or they paid for visit after visit with the workers at the brothel until they ran out of credits.

Only one way to find out. The gambling and brothels didn’t start up until later in the afternoon. To kill the time, and to possibly find the quarry, Mando wandered throughout the different sections of the market. 

He asked a few vendors about the bounty. Mando described the man to many market sellers and only got a slight lead from one woman donned in patterned fabrics. 

“I think he went that way,” the woman gestured with one of her hands towards an intersection, “Take the left path. I don’t know anything else beyond that.”

Mando dropped a few credits into her hand and gave her a polite nod, “Thank you.” He continued on and curved his gait to take the left path. From the signs and general merchandise displayed on each stall, he knew he was entering the clothing section of the market.

The helmet covering his head swiveled from left to right and right to left. No one matched the description of his quarry. Repeating his previous process, he made his way down the stall-lined alley and asked a couple different vendors.

Once the last vendor finished talking, and provided him with another lead, he dug his hand into his pocket and slid the credits on the stall’s counter towards them. Turning his back towards the vendor, his feet carried him two steps back into the market.

Then he saw you.

You stood hunched over a table of colorful bracelets. Tapping his fingers to the temple of his helmet, Mando zoomed in and the helmet displayed your face to him, deep in thought. Looking down, you were hovering your hands over a grid of various green bracelets. 

You stopped on one. Mostly brown, almost too much to be in the green section, Mando thought. Nonetheless, the green and silver streaks peeked in and out of the thick threads of brown that made up the bracelet. Your fingers sorted through the sizes of the bracelet and selected one that looked close to your size. 

Clutching it in one hand, the other hand searched for another of the same bracelet. It was larger than the previous size. You set the smaller bracelet down and tested the strings. The bracelet was adjustable, and you smiled at the discovery.

You transferred the bracelets onto the table of the stall and used one hand to dig into your pockets. Palm held out flat, Mando guessed that about twenty credits sat in your palm. He followed your gaze to the sign listing the prices.

PRICES

1 bracelet = 15 credits

2 = 30 credits

3 = 45 credits

4 = 60 credits

Shoulders falling, you dropped the credits back into your pocket and returned the bracelets to their original spot in the grid of green. Ground crunched beneath your shoes as you turned and continued wandering through the market.

Mando noted it was the third stall to the left of the bright green stall on the left side of the alley.

Not wanting you to realize he saw you, the Mandalorian walked in the opposite direction you took. After twenty minutes he noticed that the stalls became much more strange than the stalls in the clothing section of the market. Peering at the different products for sale, he saw a potions shop offering “super strength elixir” and a vendor selling various pet-like creatures. A few more vendors passed his peripheral vision as he continued his strides. They came to a stop once a building larger than the surrounding stalls came into view.

His helmet tilted upwards to read the sign displayed front and center on the large building: BROTHEL.

Tapping the side of his helmet, the time on the helmet’s display indicated that the brothel and gambling scenes had just begun. Mando tapped the temple of his helmet once again and the warm bodies within the building lit up, like he had x-ray vision. He counted a dozen in total. One body stood in the same spot inside near an entryway–the bouncer, Mando thought.

The bouncer was the individual that allowed access in and out of the building. If their memory was decent, they would be like a living guest book. Mando figured he could bribe them to reveal information, which was his usual plan with most of the beings he spoke with.

He sauntered over to the side of the building the bouncer was standing at. A singular light flickered over the side door, the sun was still out, so Mando was confused why it was on. The beskar helmet observed the side door.

Metal. Double deadbolts. Keypad on the left side. Small slit at eye level–neck level for the Mandalorian.

As soon as he crouched down to look near the slit, it slid open and revealed a thick pair of black eyebrows. Black eyes bore into the brow of Mando’s helmet, as the bouncer couldn’t seem to find his eyes. 

“Do you have an appointment?” The bouncer asked. The voice behind the door was gruff, as if the words had to crawl from the depths of his throat. 

“No,” Mando responded.

Black eyes blinked and then disappeared when the bouncer closed the metal slit. 

Mando was taken aback and furrowed his brow. His fist pounded on the door. He just wanted this hunt to be over with. He wanted to get back to you.

The slit in the door revealed two black eyes once more.

“I have credits and will pay you if you give me information on a client your establishment may have served.” Mando’s modulator gritted out loudly. Straight and to the point. All business. 

Eyes disappeared again, but were then accompanied with the sounds of the deadbolts unlocking. The metal door swung open to reveal a man dressed in all black with a silver name tag. Black hair matched the rest of his ensemble. 

Still holding the door, the bouncer asked, “What’s the bounty look like?”

An eyebrow raised inside Mando’s helmet, but he figured the bouncer knew the drill by now. Even other bounty hunters knew that brothels were what many bounties visited. A gloved hand unbuttoned a pocket on his belt and retrieved a bounty puck. Clicking the side of it, the puck displayed the quarry. 

The man stepped out of the doorway and onto the pavement, pulling the door closed behind him. His black eyes slightly squinted when his gaze trailed up and down the hologram.

“Ah yeah, I’ve seen this guy. He has a type, always goes for the blondes.” 

“Does he have any upcoming appointments?” Mando questioned.

The bouncer sighed in thought and pulled a small notepad from his pocket. Mando mirrored the man’s motion and produced a pen and notepad from his pocket. 

“The guy has an appointment in two days. He just asked to see a blonde. Figures.” The man shrugged and opened his notepad. Mando noticed it was a planner, and the bouncer flipped to the pages for the appointments two days from today.

“Which workers would take him as a client?” Mando’s modulator churned the words. His pen clicked as he readied himself to write.

The man donned in black made a fist with one hand and raised a finger with each name, “Ari. Taima. And Nomi. They would be in rooms one, five, or seven.”

Wow, Mando thought, this guy really knew the drill. He quickly finished up writing down the names and room numbers of each worker. The pen scratched feverishly against the cream colored paper, leaving behind black strokes to form letters and numbers. Notepad folding closed and the pen clicking, signifying the end of his notes, Mando returned the pen and paper to their place in his pocket. His opposing hand reached into a different pocket and produced a sizable amount of credits. Feeling generous, thankful that this hunt was going to be quick, he compensated the bouncer handsomely.

First task done. Second task on the horizon.

Creaking produced from the hinges of the metal door as the bouncer disappeared behind it once more. Flickering light gleamed off the beskar armor that protected the Mandalorian in combat. Although he wasn’t going into combat, because he wouldn’t be nervous if he was. 

Mando trained most of his life with the greatest warriors in the galaxy. Combat flowed through his blood easily. It was a part of him. 

But he was never trained on how to ask people out on dates.

On top of that, he was never trained on how to ask you out on a date.

He didn’t want to misread the situation. You could just be friendly. Who would want to date a man and not know what he looks like? Who would want to constantly live on a ship, without a permanent home? 

Being Mando, he prepared for the worst. If you said no, he figured that you would be uncomfortable living with the man who asked you out on a date. Knowing that he’s attracted to you. He would fly wherever you wanted and give you some credits to get started. Kriff, he’d send credits for however long it takes for you to get on your feet. Then he’d leave you alone. 

Admittedly, the Mandalorian would probably keep an eye on you to make sure you were safe. You just wouldn’t know he’s there.

But if you said yes.

Mando’s chest bloomed with anticipation. Firework-like tingles trailed up and down his limbs at the thought. He bit his lip within the confines of his helmet when he realized his pants had gotten tighter. Thankfully he was a Mandalorian, because heat washed over his face, half due to arousal and the other half in embarrassment.

The brown eyes underneath the helmet widened. If he wanted to do more with you and you agreed, he didn’t have protection.

Turning on his heel, cape whipping behind him, he made a quick pace back to the brothel.

Once he arrived at the gray building, the light at the side of the building having more of a purpose, Mando glided towards the same door as before. Bringing a fist up to the metal, he knocked three times.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Clink. Shhhkt.

“Do you sell condoms?” the modulator quickly blurted.

All business.

—

He arrived at the meet up point before you. Leaning against a nearby tree, Mando checked the time constantly, as if he was devoted to the action more than his Creed. If you were late, he always went looking. 

Thankfully, you trudged up to the food stall on time with a hefty bag full of purchases. Fine, brown gravel grinded against the soles of Mando’s shoes as he made his way over to you. His gloved hand slipped the bag from your grasp and the pair of you began walking back to the Crest.

Both of you carried on with your normal post-supply run routines. You and Mando, but this time just Mando, piled the purchases from the market onto the hull’s floor. From there, the items could be sorted through and put in their respective places around the Crest.

As Mando finished unloading the large bag of purchases, he quickly dug around for the receipts. He knew how much you liked to review the shopping haul each time a supply run was completed. Mando enjoyed seeing the satisfaction wash over your face after you read over the receipts.

But this time was different. You froze once you got to the last receipt.

Mando’s helmet tilted in confusion. He took a few steps closer towards you, “What’s wrong? Did we forget something?”

You remained still while your eyes darted over the lines on the receipt. With your back turned to him, Mando found the opportunity to zoom in on the ink printed on the flimsy paper.

ITEMS PURCHASED (1)

CONDOM - 12 PACK

Oh. Fuck. FUCK.

He hasn’t even asked you on a date yet and now you probably already think he’s a perv. Nerves took over his body as you continued to stand still.

Your hand quickly crushed the receipts and threw them in the trash, “Nope! The last receipt didn’t look familiar but,” you trailed off slightly but recovered, “I remembered what I bought from the place.” A nervous laugh–obviously fake, Mando knew what your real one sounded like–escaped from your lips.

He fucked it up. You knew he was interested in you like that. And you didn’t feel the same. He hasn’t even asked you on the date yet. It’s all screwed up now.

But he also felt like he didn’t have enough evidence. What if you did like him but the idea of…needing to use the condoms…made you nervous.

Mando had to at least try. The least he had to do was ask you.

He cleared his throat and grabbed the bag off of the floor. You stood away from him, biting the inside of your cheek, nervously watching his movements. 

“I’m going to go to the night market,” he informed you, “I have some business with a bounty I need to take care of.” 

The bounty wouldn’t be captured until two days from now. In reality, he was really going to go and purchase snacks, takeout, and a pair of those bracelets you admired. It would have been suspicious if he met you back at the meet up point with bags full of snacks. The beskar man figured it would be best to hold off on buying them until later, and tell you he was getting a bounty, so you wouldn’t catch on.

He should’ve waited for this second trip to buy the condoms, he thought.

–

Mando left to, “Go to the night market,” he said. You saw the condom listed on the market receipts, you knew where he went tonight. What he’s going to do. 

The brothels.

Yeah, sure, he’s paying a worker to give him a service. No feelings attached. But you didn’t want him to be with anyone else. Was Mando necessarily yours? No. Have you ever had sex with him? Also no.

That didn’t stop you from getting jealous.

And it wasn’t just jealousy. It was fear. What if he fell in love with one of them? Or what if he was going on dates? He could have a romantic interest you don’t even know about. Next thing you know, they’re going steady and you’re kicked off the ship. Or worse, you have to watch him love someone that isn’t you.

No more silence with him in the cockpit, watching as the hyperspace lights soar past the windshield. Feet tapping down the ladder as you both began your nighttime routines. He’d wait in the hull near the door of the fresher in just his helmet, undershirt, sleep pants, and socks. As he lifted off the wall from his leaning stance he’d ask you, “Are you done?” Holding his own hands in front of him, trying to seem relaxed, as if he was trying to look less intimidating. “Yeah,” you’d quickly respond, leaving the fresher and brushing past him. Sometimes his hand found your waist as he passed, or the small of your back. “Thank you,” he’d grunt gently as he closed the fresher door. 

No more of Mando letting out a small, “Good night,” before lingering on your closing eyes and watching as your lips smiled, forming your response, “Good night.” 

Falling asleep, you knew you’d wake up to him. He would be up before you on most days, leaving you a fresh cup of caf and your favorite ration pack (when he had them). The short chatter between you two, going over the logistics of the next hunt, telling stories from your past, or just thinking out loud to each other. Gone.

You would be banished from home.

The fear struck your chest. Heat searing through your ribcage and meeting your spine, the visions repeated over and over in your head. Tears fell like waterfalls from your eyes. Most streams connected underneath your chin and trailed down your neck. Your back met the hull’s wall as you sank down onto the floor. Deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Your head was heavy and numb.

Just breathe. You knew you weren’t going to die. Go through some heartbreak? Maybe, but you knew you’d be alive. It helped. Your breath slowed and the fear dissipated into the air around you. That didn’t stop the flow of tears down your cheeks as your eyes were fixed on the closed ramp.

–

Mando’s footsteps set a steady pace back to the market.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

He displayed a map of the marketplace as an overlay on the display of his helmet. Mando usually reserved this practice for combat to aid in determining exit strategies and the best plan of attack.

But now he was using it to calculate the most efficient route throughout the marketplace in order to see you again sooner. 

Closing the overlay from the helmet’s display, he was met with the sight of the market. Long strings of lights decorated the different stalls. Many vendors took advantage of the dark and used different, bright combinations to reel in customers. Some lights were multicolored. Some flashing. Some huge and some small. He thought of the “ooh”s, and, “ahh”s that you would let out at the brilliant display.

The Mandalorian started in the food section of the market. Carefully examining which vendors carried your favorite snacks, he made purchase after purchase in quick succession. His helmet remained on a swivel, scanning the stalls from right to left and left to right. 

A stall offering your favorite kind of takeout came into view.

Once Mando arrived at the stall he ordered two takeout meals. The vendor looked startled and confused as he ordered. They shakily accepted the credits for the two meals. Gazes drifted away from Mando and quickly returned as he stood waiting for the meals to be prepared. A bell rang and he retrieved two warm containers, placing them in his bag alongside the snacks.

One last stop. The bracelets.

Marching through the food district, he came upon an intersection at which the left path led him to the clothing district. Yet again, his helmet pivoted on his neck from one side to another. 

The third stall to the left of the bright green stall on the left side of the alley.

Mando continued his steady pace until the bright green stall came into view. The brightness of the exterior paint was exaggerated by the warm light emitted by lanterns, which decorated the outside of the shop. He didn’t notice before but the store sold children’s clothes. Onesies. Small shoes. Tiny hats.

A small tunic. Small enough for a human child younger than one year old. The tunic reminded him of Grogu’s. Mando’s bare hands brushed against the material countless times as he cradled The Child in his arms.

The last time he spoke about Grogu was with you. You listened and offered support. He’s never had anyone do that for him.

His visor turned to his left. The soft fairy lights of the stall reflected off of the beskar helmet on his head. As if the beskar reflected a dark sky decorated with bright stars. Various fabrics hung from the side of the vendor’s stall to cover the old wooden planks. Little accessories were placed throughout the shop on different tables and displays. 

Mando wasn’t focused on those items, he was focused on the long table of bracelets organized by color. His feet carried him to the green section. The helmet turned downwards to allow him to observe the selection. 

Shit.

There were so many bracelets similar to the pair you held, just all in different combinations of green, silver, and brown. Was it the bracelet with the large green cord and the small silver and brown threads? Or the one with the large silver cord and green and brown threads? Or thick brown cord with streaks of green and silver? His hands hovered over the options, doing his best to recall the details from earlier in the day.

“It’s this one,” a woman’s voice said.

A bit startled, the Mandalorian looked up and found a woman standing on the other side of the table. She wore long robes with intricate patterns. Jewelry decorated every limb and part of her body, like jewels were dripping down from her skin from a storm of gemstones. Hair cascaded around her shoulders and down her back. Her smile was kind and her gaze met Mando at his eyebrow.

A good try, he thought.

“I’m sorry?” He replies. She couldn’t possibly know which bracelet he was trying to find.

“You were watching them earlier. From across the street,” she let out faint exhales as she let out a short laugh, “Maybe you should hide a little better next time.” 

She reached out and picked two bracelets out of the display grid. “I remember the sizes too,” she said, “The person you watched held onto them for so long, they seemed pretty attached to them. I kept track of which bracelets they were just in case.” The robed woman shot him a friendly wink.

“In case of what?” Mando questioned. He was still in shock that the woman noticed him staring at you from across the street. 

The woman glanced up at him like that was a dumb question, “In case you came back to get them, Mandalorian. This isn’t my first day on the job.”

It saved him the time and stress of trying to remember which one it was, so he shrugged and watched the woman’s jewelry dangle as she typed onto the register. 

Beep. Beep. Beep beep. Ching.

“Okay sir, twenty credits please!” The woman extended her hand out and waited for Mando to place credits into her palm. She was met with the tilting of the black T shape on Mando’s beskar helmet. 

“I thought the price was thirty,” he stated as he began to reach into his pockets to retrieve his credits.

The woman let out another small laugh, “Oh, I suppose I should have made the sign larger,” her decorated fingers pointed to a small sign above the one that displays the bracelet prices.

$10 OFF WHEN YOU BUY TWO OR MORE

Mando’s shoulders dip in realization that you could’ve bought the bracelets in the first place. A sigh escapes his modulator and he hands the credits over to the intricately robed vendor. The credits clink into her palm, and then into the register.

He waits silently for her to package them up in a small bag. 

“They like you, you know,” the woman mentions, “No one like them would be deciding on which bracelets to buy for that long if they didn’t.” She paused as she was about to place the larger of the two into the small bag, “And look at the size of this one! It’s definitely for you.” 

The Mandalorian nods, “I appreciate that,” he pauses before turning away, “let’s hope they do.”

–

Mando sets a faster pace back to the Crest than the one he took from the Crest to the market. He’s impatient, he can’t wait to walk up the ramp and see your body curled up, comfortable and safe, while you sleep soundly in your bed–if you can even call it that, he thought. You usually went to bed early when he went on hunts, otherwise you would be awake talking to him.

Slipping the bag from his shoulder, an ungloved hand rummaged through the contents searching for a small bag. His fingers found the familiar texture and he pulled it out from between the snacks and the takeout. 

Mando slung the bag back over his shoulder, pulled the larger of the two bracelets out of the small bag, and slipped his hand through the ring of brown, silver, and green. Grabbing one of the ends with his fingers and pinning it to his palm, the other hand tightened the bracelet to a comfortable size around his wrist.

Once the small bag was returned to its place inside of the larger one, Mando peered around him to get a good look of his surroundings. 

The sun was about to set, leaving only a sliver of light available to provide dim light to the landscape. Rocks littered the ground. Shadows from each one making them appear larger in the light of the impending dusk. He reached up and tapped a finger to the temple of his helmet. No living thing was around him.

He paused and set the bag on the ground. Doing one last scan of the area, one of his hands gripped the chin of his helmet and lifted the beskar from his head. The hand held the helmet at his side while he marveled at his wrist.

He caught a good patch of remaining light and watched as the green and silver threads gleamed against the thick brown ones. The bracelet was beautiful. Not only because of the design, but because you picked it out. And it was for him.

Becoming paranoid, the Mandalorian quickly slipped his helmet back onto his head. He waited for the seal of the helmet to engage before continuing back towards the Crest. This time, at an even faster pace.

–

You sat there until you heard heavy footsteps approaching from outside, the hydraulics of the ramp coming to life. Thinking fast, you stood up and made your way towards the fresher to start your nighttime routine.

“Why are you still awake?” Mando’s voice was confused. He stood in front at the top of the ramp with his helmet tilted, hands resting on his hips, but his shoulders were slumped, a bag slung around one. He looked…worried.

Mando was right. Usually when he went on hunts you went to bed early. Nowadays the only thing that kept you awake was him. Talking with him was how you spent most evenings on the Crest, your voices echoed and bounced back to each other in the hull.

He’s used to seeing you curled up on the sleeping pad covered in blankets. Soft breaths came from your body and radiated throughout the Crest. Just like a minute ago, his footsteps would come up the ramp with his bounty in tow. Soft grunts could be heard kitty-corner from your spot in the hull. A hiss of mechanisms as they froze the bounty in carbonite. Then a bit of silence. 

The absence of the carbonite freezing stood out in your mind. No bounty, even when he said he was going to go and find one. Your eyes teared up slightly again as the realization truly set in. Mando really did go to the brothel.

You just wanted this night to be like any other night he came back to the Crest with a bounty.

After the bounty was frozen, heavy footsteps made their way across the floor of the hull. But they always stopped a few paces away from your bed, halting for a moment. Mando would complete his nightly routine. Setting the Crest’s coordinates for the next planet and showering in the fresher if he needed to–he usually did.

No matter what the events of his nightly routine were, it always ended with him standing in the doorway of his bunk–the sound of his footsteps always stopped partially inside.

“Good night, cyar'ika.”

You didn’t know what the Mando’a meant, since Mando never used that word around you, but you knew that the, “good night,” was all you needed to finally fall asleep.

You always waited up for him, only until reasonable hours of the night, of course, but he didn’t know it.

The sound of his footsteps in the present snapped you out of your hazy state. Crying really does a number on your brain.

“Just…couldn’t fall asleep,” you offered him a small smile as you pulled some products out of the tiny fresher cabinet. You wet your face and applied a small amount onto your fingertips, tapping them together for both hands to have the product. As you lifted your face and your hands to the mirror to begin washing your face, you were met with swollen lips, puffy eyes, and slight tear trails dried onto your face, despite the water you just splashed onto it. You froze.

There goes any of your chances to get away with how you spent your night. Staying up late staring at the Crest’s ramp. Waiting for Mando to come home. At least what you thought was home.

“What’s wrong?” Mando’s voice got clearer as he approached the fresher door. His strides long, footsteps clunking, as he removed his leather gloves and tucked the pair into his utility belt.

You went to turn away from him but he got there faster than you could. His ungloved hand rested on your shoulder, grip slow yet firm as he turned you to face him. He rubbed tiny circles onto your skin with his thumb once his eyes beneath the helmet noticed yours.

Your reflection on the silver beskar of his helmet stared back at you. Could you even get away with a lie at this point? What else would have made you cry? It’s not exactly like you could have said the truth either.

Oh yeah, I was sitting here having a panic attack as you participated in a perfectly normal service that is offered on this planet. Then I spiraled and thought about how you might not even want me to be here, that you’ll find another partner to be on this ship with you, and toss me away like none of this meant anything to you.

Mando’s hand waved in front of your face and it brought you back into the present moment. “Did someone come onto the ship while I was gone?” His voice gritted out from the helmet’s modulator. 

“Maker, no,” you huffed and tried to look less suspicious, hoping he’ll just drop the topic.

“Then what is it?” He murmured, his modulator barely picking up his syllables. His wide shoulders took up most of the fresher’s door frame. The grip on your shoulder tightened slightly.

“It’s…I don’t think you’ll want to hear it.” You shrugged and repressed the heat of anxiety creeping down the back of your head. Turning to wash and dry your hands, you let out a sigh and started to walk towards the main open space of the hull. Your shoulder gently bumped him as you slid past his large frame in the doorway. 

Suddenly your hips were being snapped backwards and dragged back towards the fresher. His damn finger was in your belt loop again. 

He pulled you close to him, feeling the heat from his knuckle dig into your hip and spread throughout the rest of your body. His helmet leaned down to look you in the eye and tilted once again.

“Try me,” he paused. He brought his hand up to grip onto the valley where your neck meets your shoulder, slowly enough so you could back away if you so desired. His large palm and thick fingers were calloused and warm. The grip he had on you was still gentle, slightly squeezing. “You know you can tell me, right?”

You let a deep inhale permeate through your lungs. The words flowed through your individual cells. Thoughts of lying escaped your body with each breath. The debate inside your head would end. Whether he had those feelings for you or not.

“I got upset because you went to the brothel.” You told him. Lips trembling and eyes squinted open in an attempt to meet his gaze.

“The brothel?” He held both of your shoulders and brought his visor closer to your face. Thumbs rubbed your shoulders yet again. He sighed as your name left his lips and traveled through his helmet, “I didn’t go to a brothel tonight.” A titled T-shaped gaze met yours. You knew he was looking you in the eyes, and yours into his.

Brows furrowed, you sniffled slightly, “I-, I saw that condoms were on the market receipts.” The thumbs on your shoulders stopped, his chest didn’t rise and fall. He froze. You made Mando freeze. 

“Look I know I’m just being dramatic and paying for that kind of thing is completely normal. I just,” you trailed off and thought of a quick replacement for your worry, “I was worried you would get hurt there.”

Mando’s shoulders fell and his helmet cocked to the side. “What?” He questioned. “How would I get hurt? None of the workers there had weapons.”

“How would you know that if you didn’t go?” You whispered to him. Your gaze left his and it dropped to the shape in the center of his chestplate. The crystal shape rose up and down slowly.

“I got information on a bounty there earlier,” he sounded like he was talking to a hurt animal. Gentle. Slow. Calm. “What's the actual reason you’re upset?” 

Kriff it.

“I had a panic attack because I thought you went to the brothel. Maybe you would like the worker there more than you like me, I spiraled and thought about how you might not even want me to be here, that you’ll find another partner to be on this ship with you,” your chest heaved and as you listed off your previous thoughts of worry. Your hands shook as they landed on top of Mando’s, and you took a deep breath, eyes meeting his gaze like before, “and toss me away like none of this meant anything to you.”

Mando is quick. He flipped his hands to grab one of yours and tugged you into the hull. Kneeling, he opened a cloth bag, one from the market, and dug into it to search for something. 

He actually went to the night market. You thought, now you look so clingy. So needy. He was just going to show you what he got to prove he went.

He turned and held his hand out. Sitting on top of the golden skin on his palm was a bracelet.

The bracelet from the market.

“I saw you looking at these, you looked for a long time and then put them down,” He stood up and set his gait to slow steps as he made his way over to you.

You laughed nervously, accompanied by a small sniffle, “Sorry yeah, I know I just should have been getting the stuff we needed. You didn’t have to go back and get it for-.” Mando raised a finger to halt your speech and continued what he was saying previously, “you put them down. You had two bracelets.”

“They had lots of them that I liked…I had two that were a tie and I just decided to get neither-.” Mando cut you off again.

“You were holding one bracelet consistently and then picked another in a bigger size,” you froze at his words. Dank farrik. Now he was going to think you’re super clingy. 

“I wasn't completely sure who you wanted to wear the bracelet, but I took a guess.” He pulled his long sleeve past his elbow and revealed his bare forearm. Strong. Capable. Solid. And a matching bracelet was donned on his wrist.

Your cheeks radiated with heat as he took your wrist and put your bracelet on you. His warm fingertips brushed the soft skin of your wrist, sending chills throughout your body at the meticulous skin-on-skin contact. 

Once the bracelet was secure around your wrist, Mando dipped his head and looked down at the floor. One of his hands gripped the underside of his helmet, and the other held onto your wrist. Your breath caught in your throat at the gesture. He quickly lifted his helmet to release his mouth, and he pressed three kisses on your wrist where the bracelet was. Mando’s lips were soft and timid, his hand caressing the skin on yours. Silver from his beskar helmet blocked your view, but Mando sealed his helmet and brought his eyes underneath the visor to look into yours.

“This means everything to me.”

Supply Run - Exchange (part three)

[penmansparadise]

Tommy Shelby ~ Dust in the Wind

*I DON'T OWN THIS GIF* *CREDIT TO GIF OWNER*

*I do not give anyone permission to repost my work in any way (translations included)*

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Discusses infant loss/stillborn, ANGST, mild language, possibly ooc Tommy

a/n: Alright, well, it has been quite some time since I've posted on this site. First, let me get a few things out. 1) This is the most self-indulgent piece I have ever written, so if you don't want to read it, please just keep on scrolling. 2) This does not mean that I am ready to start taking requests again or that I will be regularly writing again. As stated before, this is a very self-indulgent piece because I just experienced the loss of my daughter, who was born prematurely. It has completely wrecked me, and I have just finally decided to start writing again. I am trying to navigate my loss and thought maybe writing would help. It did, and although this piece is a little darker than I usually write, it was therapeutic, and I wanted to share it because I am proud of my work. I did write it as a reader insert, but if you all read it and think it would be better as an OC story, I'll change it. Anyway, this is the first time I've ever written for Tommy, so please forgive the potential out-of-character actions he has in this story. Also, it has been a bit since I watched season 3 so forgive any mistakes. I took some liberties with the story by adding different children for Tommy and Y/N and some of the things that happened in the show. Well, I hope you enjoy this story, and would really like to know what you all think.

§

Y/N was no stranger to death.  It was Small Heath, for goodness’ sake.  Death practically ran in the water.  Being deeply entrenched in the Shelby family since she was a young girl only made her acquaintance with death’s steely grip all that much closer.  She had been to more than enough funerals in her 29 years of living.  She was present at the cemetery when her father finally drank himself into his grave, she was there to mourn when consumption took her mother, and she showed up to support Ada when they buried Freddie.  Y/N was always there when any of the Peaky boys were killed in the line of action, and she even showed up for her elderly childhood neighbor’s funeral.  But this time, it was different.  She wasn’t gathered in the woods on the outskirts of Small Heath to mourn for someone else.  There wasn’t a stranger tucked away in the wagon standing in front of her.  The Shelbys weren’t gathered to bid farewell to a distant relative or friend.  The Lees weren’t generously providing this funeral for a price.  No, the whole Shelby and Lee families were there for her and Tommy this time.

            The heat from the flames washed over Y/N’s face, making her sweat a little, but she didn’t move.  She wanted to be as close as she could possibly be.  If she had it her way, she would have jumped into the wagon and let the flames swallow her whole, but Tommy’s hand tightly gripping hers anchored her to the ground.  It had only been a few days.  It couldn’t have been more than four, but with how time was moving, it felt like a lifetime had passed.  The flames roared on, and Tommy squeezed her hand a little tighter, causing Y/N’s throat to tighten.  She swallowed down the sadness trying to claw its way out of her.  Y/N wasn’t going to break down in front of all these people.  She didn’t want to cry at all, for that matter.  It felt like it had been an endless stream of tears, and Y/N was done.  If only her aching heart would catch the memo.  Y/N’s eyes traveled the length of the flames until they landed on the little plaque one of the Lee boys carved for the wagon.  “Lily Eleanora Shelby,” it read, and suddenly, the sadness returned with a vengeance.  Y/N shut her eyes, and the events that led to this day played in her head.  She was supposed to be happy.  She was supposed to be full of unadulterated joy.  She was supposed to be cradling her newborn baby girl.  But she wasn’t.  Instead, she held onto her husband’s hand like a lifeline as she watched her daughter’s wagon burn.  One day.  That’s all it took to completely destroy her.

            Even as she stood there, watching the flames devour her daughter’s wagon, she still recounted everything she did four days ago, trying to figure out what could have possibly led to this result.  Four days ago, she was a cheery 29-week pregnant woman.  A stay-at-home mom who, with the help of their maid Frances, cared for her and Tommy’s three-year-old son, Benjamin.  That day had started like any other.  Tommy was already out, and she could hear Frances chasing Ben around his room.  The little boy’s giggles echoed through the house, and she remembers smiling as she slid a hand over her round tummy.  Y/N couldn’t wait for Ben to be a big brother.  She got ready like any other day and eventually made her way to her son, who welcomed her presence with a hug and a kiss.  The little boy rubbed her tummy, planted a chaste kiss to her navel, and smiled at her. 

            “I just wanted to let my little brother or sister know that I love them too, Mommy,” he had said, causing Y/N’s heart to clench.  Even at three, he was a charmer, just like his father.  She knelt to be at eye level with her son and lifted her hand to cradle his face.

            “You’re going to be a wonderful big brother; do you know that?”

            “Of course I will be, Mommy.  I’ve been practicing sharing my toys with Frances and making sure I listen real good to you and daddy.”  He said, standing up straighter to exhibit his full height.  “Frances says I need to be a good example for the new baby, or else Santa won’t bring me any presents this year for Christmas.  How outrageous is that, Mommy!?”

            Y/N stifled a laugh before brushing Ben’s hair back and looking up to see Frances smirking from her spot by Ben’s block tower. 

“I’m sure Santa won’t forget about you this year, honey.”  She told her son.  The boy gave her a toothy grin before trotting off to continue playing with his blocks. 

Y/N returned to her feet and watched Ben for another minute before retreating to the new nursery.  It was already put together, and she often found herself hiding away in that room.  She glided her hand over the bassinet and let the soft fabric tickle her palm.  The walls were already decorated with paintings of horses, some of which came from Ben, who insisted that his younger sibling have them.  She sat on the rocking chair and gently rubbed her hands over her stomach, earning a little kick from her unborn child.  A soft laugh fell from her lips as she looked down at her growing bump.

“Sorry to disturb you, love.”  She whispered, her hands still rubbing slow circles.  “Mommy just wanted to let you know she loves you very much.  And so does your big brother, who is very excited to meet you.”

Another kick came.

“You’re excited to meet him, too?  I’ll have to let him know.”

“Daddy loves you too, just in case Mommy forgot to mention that.”  Tommy’s voice came from the doorway, causing Y/N to look up.  He gave her a full smile, the one he reserved only for her and their son, and it fell over her like a warm blanket.

“Mommy was just about to get there.  Had daddy not interrupted her,” she said.  Tommy hummed in response as he floated across the room to kneel before her.  He looked up at Y/N through his lashes and said, “Sure you were,” before removing her hands and planting a soft kiss where they had just lay.

“Daddy can’t wait to meet you,” he whispered against her stomach, his warm breath radiating throughout her body.  Tommy looked up at Y/N before standing and pressing his lips to hers.  When he pulled away, a smile matching his spread across her face.  She was beaming.  She had dreamt of being in this position for many years as a teenager, and now it was real.  Thomas Shelby was hovering over her very pregnant figure in their unborn second child’s nursery.  Their lively three-year-old son’s muffled laughter ricocheted off the hallway walls.  It was everything she ever wanted, and she was so happy.

“What’s that look for?”  Tommy asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Nothing,” she hummed, gaining a skeptical eyebrow raise from her husband.  “I just love you.  That’s all.”

Tommy nestled his face into the crook of her neck, peppering kisses along the exposed skin.  Then he pulled back, looked into her eye, and said, “I love you more than you know, Y/N.”

He gave her one more swift kiss before standing and sauntering out of the room with a smirk.  The rest of the day went by like any day usually went.  She sat around and read, played with Ben, ate lunch at 1100, put Ben down for a nap at 1230, and then went back to reading.  Tommy was in and out, balancing work from home and the office.  She could tell that day was extra tiring from how he sighed every time he left the house.  It was after Tommy left for the last time of the day that Y/N got the idea to wander down to the kitchen.  When she entered, the cooks were hard at work peeling and slicing vegetables.

“Good evening, Mrs. Shelby,” the head chef began, “is there anything we can do for you, ma’am?”

Y/N clasped her hands behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels like a guilty toddler.  “Um,” she said, “actually, yes, there is.”  She stepped into the kitchen and moved her hands to rest on her stomach.  “I was thinking that maybe tonight you and the rest of the staff could take the evening off and allow me to cook dinner.”

The head chef’s eyes widened at her statement.  Everyone else stilled for a brief moment, waiting for him to speak.  “Oh,” he stammered, “b-but, Mrs. Shelby, and please forgive me if I am overstepping, but shouldn’t you be resting instead of cooking?”  His eyes dipped down to her protruding abdomen before landing back on her face. 

“Resting?  I rest all day.  Really,” Y/N said, waving the chef’s comment off, “it would be nothing.  I actually miss being in the kitchen.  It’ll be nice.  Therapeutic.”  She couldn’t miss the wide-eyed stares from everyone in the room, but she chose to ignore them.  When they didn’t move to leave, she stepped forward, placed a gentle hand on the head chef’s back, and began leading him out of the kitchen. 

“Trust me,” she said, “I’ll be fine.  Thank you for your concern, though.”

Once she ushered the staff out, she began working on dinner.  It had been a long time since she cooked, but it came back to her like riding a bicycle.  She couldn’t escape the excitement that bubbled inside of her as she fell into a groove preparing dinner for her family again.  She boiled the potatoes the staff had peeled, sauteed the peppers and onions, and braised the beef that was in the refrigerator.  About an hour into cooking, a dull pain emanated from her lower back and into her hips.  The dull pain slowly morphed into a pressure that she just assumed was normal 29-week pregnancy symptoms.  It’s just the baby getting comfortable.  The baby is just moving around and pressing a little harder than usual on my cervix.  She ignored the feelings and finished cooking before asking the kitchen staff for help to bring the meal into the dining room.  Once the table was set, Frances went and fetched her boys, alerting them that not only had Y/N cooked dinner, but she had also served it.  She greeted the boys in the doorway of the dining room and gave each a kiss before they all sat to eat.  That pain returned in her lower back and hips, making it hard to get comfortable in her seat.  She let out a low groan of discomfort, and Tommy placed his hand over hers to gain her attention.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyebrows knitted together.  She swallowed another groan that threatened to come out and nodded with a strained smile.  Y/N could tell that her weak answer did nothing to reassure Tommy, but he didn’t press her. 

“How do you like the meal?”  She asked, doing her best to not sound strained against the constant pressure she felt pulsing between her legs.

Before Tommy could answer, Ben nodded with enthusiasm and stuffed a heaping scoop of mashed potatoes into his mouth.  “I love it, Mommy!  This is the best dinner I’ve ever had,” he said through his mouthful of food. 

Y/N smiled, but it must have looked more like a grimace because this time, Tommy stood up and moved to her side.  “Y/N,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders, “are you sure you’re okay?  Should I have Frances phone the doctor?” 

Y/N grabbed his hand and squeezed it as she looked up to her husband.  “I’m fine, darling.  I promise.  Let’s just finish dinner.”  She pulled his hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.  Then, using her head, she motioned for Tommy to sit again.  He stared at her for another moment, the line on his forehead deepening, before sighing and retaking his seat.  She kept her discomfort under wraps for the remainder of dinner because Tommy didn’t mention anything until after they had put Ben down for the night and were about to crawl into bed.  The pressure and pain had only grown in that short time, and she was beginning to get nervous.  She was sitting on the edge of their bed, eyes shut, and taking some deep breaths when Tommy’s hands landed on her thighs.  She could feel him kneeling between her legs, but she didn’t open her eyes.  She didn’t want to admit that her anxiety was consuming her or that the pain and pressure had turned into abdominal cramps.  It wasn’t until she suddenly felt the bed beneath her sopping wet that she looked at Tommy.  He looked down and saw the fluid dripping from her nightgown and their duvet before his gaze landed on her.  She could see his mouth moving, but his voice was drowned out by her rapidly beating heart.  Something is wrong.  She thought.  This shouldn’t be happening.  I’m too early.  Tommy pushed away the hair that had begun sticking to her sweaty forehead, and then ran out of the room.  His voice was distant, but she could have sworn he said something about calling Polly and Ada.  She wasn’t sure because all she could focus on was the sharp pain that was puncturing her abdomen and the immense pressure building between her legs.  Before she could comprehend what was happening, Tommy scooped her up and lay her on their bed.  What about the sheets?  I’m going to ruin the bed. 

She must have said those thoughts aloud because Tommy quickly said, “Don’t worry about the bed, love.  We’ll get another one if we have to.”  The pain was only getting worse, and she had to shut her eyes and bite her tongue to prevent a groan from escaping.  She didn’t know how much time had passed before Polly and Ada came rushing into the room, shoving Tommy into the hallway.  When it was just the three of them, Y/N finally let out a guttural moan.  She didn’t remember this much pain when she gave birth to Ben.  Something is wrong.  Something is not right.  Those words chanted in her head like a mantra.  Polly set her up on her bed while Ada used a wet towel to wipe away the sweat beading on her face.

“Just breathe, Y/N,” Polly chirped soothingly in her ear. “Ada and I are here.  We’re going to take care of you.”

Anxiety coursed through her veins and unfurled in her gut when the pressure between her legs began to increase.  She tried to cross her legs and prevent the inevitable from happening, but Polly and Ada wouldn’t let her.  Tears of pain and fear streamed down her cheeks.  She wanted to scream at them to stop and let her try to stop this urge to push.  But the pain and pressure were too much, and the only sound that came out of her mouth was a low groan. 

She could feel Polly’s hand between her legs, and the words “crowning” and “push” floated to her ears.  Ada took her hand, and Y/N tried with every fiber in her body to not push, but her body had other plans.  She held her breath and begged her body to stop forcing her baby out of her, but it was too late.  The pressure was building.  Climbing to a peak that felt like it would rip her in half until suddenly, she felt relief.  Her heavy breathing filled the room, and she waited impatiently for the tell-tale cries of her baby, but they never came.  She opened her eyes and looked at Polly and then at Ada.  They both just stared back at her, and Y/N knew something wasn’t right. 

“Y/N,” was all Polly whispered, and she knew.  The silence was deafening.  She lay there, completely exposed, bleeding, and sweaty, and waited, but her baby gave her nothing.  Her eyes shut and then, without any strength to stop it, let out a crushing wail.  The tears overflowed, and when she opened her eyes again, she watched the door burst open and Tommy storm in.  He moved over to where Polly held their baby and looked down at their motionless child.

“Why isn’t she crying?”  He asked. 

It was a girl.  I had a baby girl.  Even through her tears and sobs, she could see Tommy’s chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.

“Why isn’t she fucking crying, Pol!?”  Tommy’s voice boomed through the room and mixed with her loud cries to create the saddest song.  She could see the distress in the slant of his shoulders and how he ran a hurried hand through his cropped hair.  He didn’t wait for anyone to answer his question before bounding across the room and landing on the floor next to her.  His hands found hers, and she could feel them shaking.  His lips pressed to Y/N’s forehead and cheeks, absorbing only some of the tears that continued to cascade down her face. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, but the way his voice cracked in her ear told her he didn’t even believe those words.  “I love you, Y/N.”  She could hear that his words dripped with the same despair she felt.  “You know that, ey?  I love you, and it’s going to be okay.”

Tommy’s words echoed in her head as she watched the fire blaze around her daughter’s wagon.  She wanted to be convinced that his words were true, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe them.  When the funeral finished, they all returned to Arrow House, where the wake was being held.  Even being in a crowded room surrounded by family, Y/N felt alone.  Her whole body was like radio static – unfeeling.  Tommy’s hand was on her lower back the entire time, but she still felt like she was floating away.  Nothing could tether her to this reality anymore.

Several people approached her and Tommy, and with every person, a new empty comment emerged. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” which loosely translates to, “Boy, that sucks to be you.”

“I can’t even imagine what you’re going through,” which means, “I’m really glad I’m not dealing with that!”

And, “At least you still have Ben,” equates to, “You shouldn’t be upset when you still have one kid alive.”

With every consolation tossed at her feet like the change she used to find on the ground when she was a child, this unknown sensation began to build in her chest.  It was heavy and wild, like an untamed animal.  It was red and bared its teeth, ready to bite.  It was something Y/N had never felt before.  She was usually understanding, calm, and collected.  She wasn’t hot-headed or easily provoked.  But now, she was quickly discovering that what she was feeling was rage.  Hot and stormy, it ravaged her insides, and instead of beating it back into its cage, Y/N leaned into it, letting it hold her battered and broken soul up.

After the wake, Y/N let her sadness swallow her.  She hid in one of the guest rooms daily and even went as far as to avoid Tommy.  She couldn’t bring herself to look at him because every time their eyes met, two things happened.  1) she could see the grief he was carrying like cinder blocks chained to his neck, and 2) she could see the way he looked at her like she was a broken piece of artwork now.  She knew she was a shell of the woman she once was, but it hurt her even more to know that Tommy saw it so plainly in her, too.  He didn’t see her as the strong, independent woman he fell in love with.  No, now she was a ghost of her former self, and she couldn’t take his pity for having lost their daughter and herself. 

Although clearly grieving, Tommy didn’t seem nearly as phased by their loss as Y/N.  He was able to jump back into work, and now, nearly a week since the wake, he was back to being fully invested.  If Y/N were being honest, she envied Tommy for being able to distract himself.  She couldn’t do anything but hide from the memories that haunted their home and do her best to still be a good mother to Ben.  When a week finally passed since laying her daughter to rest, Y/N knew she had to do something.  She would talk to Polly and beg for some sort of work.  She didn’t care that Polly insisted that Y/N take some “time to heal.”  She needed a distraction.  Being in Arrow House felt more like a prison than a home.

Y/N got dressed and began to head for the door after handing Ben over to Frances.  But, as she approached Tommy’s office, she could hear him talking.  She peeked through the tiny crack to discover John and Arthur sitting at Tommy’s desk. 

“Ada’s handling the Communists.  She’s got someone on the inside who’s giving us information,” Tommy stated.  “And,” he shuffled papers around on his desk, “I’m…dealing with Father Hughes.”

“And what about the horny princess?” John asked, leaning forward and adjusting his jacket.  “You gonna figure out where her family keeps the jewels?”

Tommy waved him off.  “I already know.”  That single statement had both his brothers and Y/N leaning forward just slightly.  Tommy lay a large blueprint on his desk, causing the brothers to stand.

“They keep their entire collection in this strong room.  There’s no way to get in from above without a key,” Tommy stated, flattening the paper and looking up at his brothers. 

“So, what’s your plan, brother?”  Arthur asked like a good soldier.  Tommy straightened slightly, and Y/N could tell he was a little uncomfortable.  He pulled a cigarette from his case and slid it across his bottom lip before lighting it and taking a drag. 

“We’ve gotta tunnel in,” Tommy said without hesitation.  Those four words landed on the Shelby men like a grenade, and Y/N could almost feel the atmosphere shift at the statement.  None of them moved.  It was evident that the idea of tunneling hadn’t been a thought in any of their minds since the war.  Tommy cleared his throat. 

“I know,” he began, “but there’s no other way.  I’ve already got Johnny Dogs ready to help.  He’ll set up camp where we’ll start the tunnel.”

The air was thick, and again, neither of the brothers spoke.  She knew they didn’t like the plan, but they would comply because Tommy was giving the orders.  Y/N watched as John and Arthur fiddled with their suit jackets, their anxious energy hitting her like a baseball bat to the face.  It wasn’t until Arthur blew out a puff of air and ran his hand through his messy hair, exposing his apprehension, that Y/N knew what she would do.  Without even a second thought, Y/N opened the door to Tommy’s office, and all three men turned to face her.  She was only adding insult to injury as the silence in the room became even heavier.  Neither of her brothers-in-law had seen her since the wake, and the uneasy energy was almost palpable.  Tommy stepped toward her but didn’t get too close, which Y/N could see his brothers noticed.

“Y/N, is everything alright, love?”

Her eyes flitted between all three of the Shelby men for a moment before finally landing back on Tommy.  She knew she probably looked like a deer in headlights.  Her stare was frazzled, and she knew she looked a bit harried.  But she still squared her shoulders and stated with the most conviction she could muster, “Let me help.”

All three men’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, but only one spoke. 

“Excuse me?”  Tommy asked, incredulity lacing each word.  There was no going back now.  Y/N had to double down on her commitment.  So, she waved her hand toward the blueprints on Tommy’s desk. 

“With the tunnel.”

Tommy’s eyes turned a shade darker, and Y/N could see his jaw tick.  She only glanced at John and Arthur for a second, and they both looked like they might choke on the thickness of the air.  She felt like she might, too, but she held her ground.  She was not a fragile porcelain doll and could help her husband like she used to.  Tommy coughed, then turned to his brothers and, in a calm voice, asked, “Would you mind giving me a moment with my wife, boys?”

Neither of the brothers wasted a second before hustling out into the hallway.  Once the door shut behind them, Tommy’s steely gaze landed back on Y/N.  Before, she would have felt a little nervous under Tommy’s intense glare.  She had never inserted herself into his shoddy business in the past.  But now, she didn’t care.  She needed a distraction and a way to prove that she was still a force to be reckoned with even after her loss.  Y/N could see Tommy trying to contain his anger as his nostrils flared and his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.  His eyes shut for a brief moment as he took a deep inhale.

“Are you fucking insane, Y/N?”  He finally asked, his voice level.  Y/N’s mouth fell open, and she reared back just slightly.  But before she could say anything, Tommy continued.

“You’ve been avoiding me, your husband, for a week in our own home, and when you decide to finally speak to me, that is what you say?”

Y/N rolled her eyes.  “Tommy.”

“No, Y/N!”  He shouted, causing her to startle.  “You can’t just move past this!”

That statement made Y/N see red.  In the week since Lily’s passing, Tommy did precisely that.  Y/N’s spine straightened, and her whole body became rigid.

“Why not!?” she shouted back, stomping toward Tommy.  “Is that not what you did?  Pretend like we didn’t lose our daughter?  You threw yourself into your work.  Why can’t I do the same thing?”  Her chest was heaving, and as badly as she didn’t want them to, she could feel tears pricking at her eyes.  She hated that she was a frustrated crier.  Her fists were in tight balls at her sides, and every muscle in her body was flexed.  She was ready for a fight.  She was prepared for Tommy to yell back at her.  In fact, she wanted him to yell at her.  She wanted Tommy to tell her how stupid her idea was and that she was out of her mind.  She mentally begged Tommy to scream at her for barging in on his meeting with his brothers and even thinking about tunneling.  Y/N wanted to feel the passion he usually had toward her before they lost their baby.  She needed him to reassure her that she was not a lost cause he was housing but his fierce wife.  But he didn’t yell.  The fire in his eyes dimmed, and his features softened.  The pity eyes were back, and she was struck by the sadness she was trying to escape.  She shut her eyes in a lame attempt to avoid looking at her husband and keep her tears at bay, but it was futile.  The tiny droplets fell down her cheeks, and when she opened her eyes again, Tommy was right in front of her.  He lifted his hands to cradle her face, and she hated how she melted into his touch.  It had been a week since she even looked at Tommy, let alone touched him.  She couldn’t lie, she missed him.  But it was easier to hide from the pain and suffering they both shared than deal with it head-on. 

Y/N let out a shaky breath and looked into her husband’s eyes. 

“Why can’t I, Tommy?” She asked, barely above a whisper.  “Let me help you.  Please.”

Tommy’s thumb stroked her cheeks, wiping away a stray tear.  He cataloged her features, and for the first time in a very long time, she wished she could see into Tommy’s thoughts.  She stared at him and hoped that everything she wanted to say was conveyed in her eyes.  I’m no longer the same woman I was a week ago.  I’m a failure as a woman and a mother.  I’m alone, letting my thoughts eat me alive.  I’m scared you won’t love this broken woman I have become.  Her eyes pleaded for Tommy to let her prove that she could still be the same person as before.  She needed to prove to him and herself that she wasn’t hopeless.  But when Tommy shut his eyes and let out a sigh, she knew his answer before he even said it. 

He looked at Y/N and said sotto voce, “You know I can’t, love.”

Y/N’s body went rigid, and that new familiar sensation began to bubble in her gut.  She could feel it rumbling and swirling, mixing with her fear and sadness, creating an uncontrollable fury.  It burned like venom, but she found herself welcoming the sting.  Her once soft features hardened, and Tommy noticed the change immediately.  Her stare was blank, and the joy that used to fill it had vanished.  Before losing her daughter, she never understood why the war had changed Tommy.  She supported him while his experiences ravaged him, but she never knew why he returned with a harder exterior than when he left.  But now, after suffering such a devastating loss, she understood.  There is no coming back from witnessing a tragedy. 

Tommy’s rough thumbs brushed against Y/N’s tear-stained cheeks and bent until his forehead rested on hers.  “Where did the woman I married three years ago disappear to?”  He said, his breath fanning over her face.  He pulled back, his distressed stare locking Y/N in place, and whispered, “I know she’s in there.”

The words stung like a slap to her already bruised ego.  She could feel the weight of that question in every bone of her body.  All her fears began raging a war inside her head, and she could feel her armor cracking.  She could feel the tears clogging her throat, burning as she swallowed them down.  Her lungs felt like they weren’t getting nearly enough oxygen, and she was only seconds away from either crying or breaking something.  With a swift step backward, Y/N separated herself from her husband.  She hated to admit that her body yearned for Tommy’s hands back on her, but she batted that thought away as quickly as it appeared.  Tommy slowly lowered his hands back to his sides, and she leveled him with a callous stare.

“That woman is gone, Tommy,” she spat.  “She burned to ash with her daughter a week ago.”  She could see the way her words landed on Tommy like bullets striking his chest.  Some of her felt bad, but the angry beast slowly becoming her new persona convinced her she did nothing wrong. 

Y/N waited for Tommy to say something, anything, back to her, and when he didn’t, she turned and reached for the door.  Confidence that felt different from what she was used to coursed through her body like electricity.  She was a little scared of who she was becoming, but those wild and fiery feelings of rage were the only things that brought her peace.  Before pulling the door open, she turned back toward Tommy and said, “If you won’t let me help you, Tommy, I’ll find someone else who will.  You forget, my roots run deep in this business, too.”

Tommy let out a dry laugh.  “You’re really threatening me, now, ey?”

Y/N’s grip tightened around the cold door handle, and, through gritted teeth, she growled, “It’s not a threat, Thomas.  It’s a promise.”  Without a second look, she flung the door open and stepped out. 

John and Arthur straightened at her abrupt appearance, and she just brushed past them, letting her feet carry her toward the front of their home.  She knew they heard her and Tommy’s conversation, but she didn’t care anymore.  This newfound boldness that her bereavement had granted her washed away any and all anxiety.   

“Hope you enjoyed the show, boys,” Y/N tossed over her shoulder toward John and Arthur.  “Next time, I’ll sell tickets and make talking to my husband more worthwhile rather than a waste of my time.”

She didn’t turn back around to see their reaction to her words.  Instead, she showed herself out and hopped into one of Tommy’s many vehicles.  She would find another way if he wouldn’t allow her to help.  The image of a tall Jewish man whom she briefly met a while back when Tommy first started expanding into London entered her mind.  She knew exactly who would be more than willing to give her a hand in her effort to help the Shelby family – Alfie Solomons.

[eureka-its-zico]

A Body of Stars

Ongoing series

Synopsis: With a galaxy at war, it’s hard to distinguish the stars from the metal of UNSC ships. You were told about the war that waged between the UNSC and insurrectionists; your planet opposing them since you were born. Your enemy was meant to be the UNSC and the Spartans they created, specifically John-117 - the Master Chief. Except, all isn’t as black and white as you were raised to believe, and the galaxy holds secrets far darker than you could’ve imagined.

Pairing: John - 117 x F!Reader

Genre: enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, Halo TV series/Mass Effect mashup

Warnings: mentions of war, violence

Word count: 11.7k

A/N: Alright. As hyper fixations go, the Halo series (and let’s be real, Pablo is a menace) has my ass in a chokehold. That being said, season 2 was amazing and made me want to work on a small fic that blended the series and my love of BioWare’s Mass Effect. Mass Effect is my favorite sci-fi space game about galactic war, friendship, love, sacrifice. I could rant but I won’t. There will be mentions of certain ME things in here, like the reader having biotics, to go along with the lore of the halo series. So, without further ado: its back story time. I hope someone out there enjoys this and as always, thank you for reading 🖤 much love, Jenn

Year: 2521

•Shadow Sea cluster•

•Lera system•

Destination: Laconix

ETA: 13 hours

The Midsummer Night came out of slip space without a hitch.

Not that he’d been worried. It was one of the few things that Captain Jacob Keyes hadn’t worried about during this current mission. What, or rather who, currently worried him was standing less than ten yards from him and came in the form of his ex-wife. He risked a glance where Dr. Catherine Halsey was hunched over with her nose deep inside another holopad. 

Those holopads had been one of the many reasons why their marriage fell apart. 

There was no doubting the brilliance her work contributed to the scientific field or the war effort. All of her research was the stepping stone humanity needed in terms of augmentation and the human genome. The contributions Halsey and her Spartans made towards this never-ending battle against the covenant saved lives, but, and it was a big but, Jacob knew that Halsey’s methods were questionable, at best. Hell, he’d been a part of those questionable decisions, driving the helm, while she did what she deemed was necessary. 

Vital. 

So, Jacob Keyes knew without her ever having to say a word that something was off. The Midsummer Night and the Pegasus holding Halsey’s darling Spartain-III’s were meant to go for a routine extraction. Intel indicated one of the leaders in the insurrectionist rebel groups, Kahn Montrello, was located on a planet within the Lera system of the Shadow Sea cluster. It was a typical snatch-and-grab unless they were met with resistance. 

Halsey requesting to tag along was more than just a surprise. It was suspicious. Jacob knew Halsey didn’t do anything without purpose.

“Tell me again why you’ve insisted on inserting yourself into a routine mission dealing with insurrectionists?”

Halsey hadn’t even looked up from the damn holopad to acknowledge he’d walked over. 

“I’m just here to gather some data while the Silver Team is dispatched to help your marines on the ground.”

Jacob’s boots scuffed against the metal of the bridge as he moved closer to her. His eyes on Catherine’s back - willing her to turn, to acknowledge him - as her gaze held tightly to the readings she’d taken from a tablet from her lab. The data was transferred to the larger scale computer in the bridge’s main console. Halsey’s eyes roaming endlessly through data Jacob himself knew he’d never understand without her help. 

“Come on, Catherine. That may be the bullshit you fed Parangosky and the other admirals, but don’t feed me the same lies and expect it to go down smoothly.”

Halsey broke away for the briefest millisecond from whatever data she was reading. Her eyes skimmed over him before returning back to what was more important.

Research in the name of human exploration always was.

“It’s not bullshit. Data collected in the field is highly valuable for furthering my research; proof to Parangosky the Spartan research is worth her continued funding.”

“That’s a nice speech, Catherine, but I know that any collected data during the mission is recorded and sent back to your lab for analysis. So, when are you going to start telling me something honest?”

Honesty. 

Asking Halsey to be anything other than secretive was like asking a tiger to get rid of its stripes. Jacob knew even if she told him - really shared - it still wouldn’t be all of the actual information. Key pieces of information - the most valuable - would be forever stored within her; leverage for another day. 

Whatever it was she could see on those holopads had her sky blue eyes wide in excitement. Halsey wouldn’t be able to contain it - hide it - for much longer.  If the small rise at the corner of her mouth was any indication, all Jacob needed to do was push a little further. Find the right words to spark a rush of hypotheticals that might turn out to hold some truth. If she didn’t crack yet, it would take one more well-placed question and she would cave. 

“Jacob,” her voice was breathy, tinged with unrestrained joy. “I think I found something.”

“What are you talking about, Catherine? Found something?”

More cryptics. More hoops. 

A sigh heavy with years of fights - conflicts - departed his lips and Halsey rushed to recover some ground. Her body quickly took back the space he left to place her hand gently on his bicep. The grip was soft but demanding that he stay close; pleading with him not to pull away.

Halsey needed him. 

“A few weeks ago the UNSC sent over old documents from companies they’d disassembled. Conatix was one of them.”

It wasn’t hard to spot the confusion that deepened the lines in the crease of Jacob’s forehead and scrunched up his nose. His eyes roamed her face searching for a tell, but if Halsey had one she’d never show it. 

“Conatix was an old UNSC factory that produced our warships-“

“Yes, I know.”

“Why would you be interested in anything about warships?”

Halsey scanned the room to make sure no one was watching - no eyes lingering on the two of them - before she directed her attention back to him. The caution that darkened her eyes shifted with a spark Jacob knew all too well. 

Halsey had found something. Really found something. 

“Usually, nothing of value would be of interest in old documents and schematics for warships but, while scrolling through the files I stumbled upon an encrypted file.”

“UNSC documentation is always encrypted when it’s being shipped out to-“

“To be destroyed, yes I already know that, Jacob,” Halsey cut in. Her body directed back towards the holopad that she carefully picked up. Her fingers darted across the screen hunting for the files in question. “But this was different. It wasn’t schematics or calculations - it was redacted - sealed documents about an incident.”

No sooner had she started Halsey was finished. Her hand reached out to give him the holopad and waited patiently for him to take it. 

“Go ahead.”

Jacob looked around the ship's bridge to make sure no one was watching. He needed to be careful, not necessarily for Halsey’s sake, but for that of his crew. He should’ve known - did know - Halsey had a habit, a bad one, to go above the chain of command to get what she wanted. That leverage she saved for a rainy day coming in hot to throw around pawns and pieces as she saw fit to get her way. 

Cautiously, Jacob secured the holopad from her and started looking at the documents, or what little he could see. Almost with every swipe all he saw were broken links and documents with holes of information missing. Sentences that formed into two words with the rest gone or replaced by shapes and numbers. An elaborate break in the code. 

“I was able to decipher most of them. Get back what information they tried to hide-“

“Catherine,” he whispered her name in warning, not for himself, but for her. 

“Jacob - this wasn’t about warships or weapons or schematics. Something happened. A ship they’d used with element zero - eezo - had leaked out over a few colonies. A hole in one of the port engines that wasn’t caught in time.”

“Catherine,” Jacob pleaded again, “This isn’t news or anything that concerns you or me.”

Halsey wasn’t going to back down. He knew she wouldn’t. Not when the sheer joy of finding something undiscovered was close. The science behind furthering human evolution. The moment he realized what this was - what he held in his hands - Jacob knew his eyes were saucers. The sudden shock of realization stunning him to the spot. 

“Children, Jacob,” Halsey practically laughed. “The pregnant mothers who were infected by the particles gave birth to children with eezo ingrained into their nervous system. The abilities these files claim they saw…it’s like nothing I’ve ever read.”

In her excitement, Halsey reached out and took a hold of his arm. The startled warmth of her touch was enough to knock Jacob back out of his daze. His eyes skimming one more time over impossible things he saw in diagrams Halsey recreated. 

“Even if that was true, you don’t even know if any of them are still alive or where they are.”

With her lips curved up in victory, Halsey plucked the holopad from his hands. 

“Yes I do. We’re headed there now.”

————-

“You get caught staring up at the sky again and Caster is going to throw a fit.”

“When isn’t he throwing a fit?”

Your question wasn’t meant for an answer. The words barely made it above a whisper while you kept watch on the green hued light that streaked across the sky like a river. Calling it green felt like you were doing it a disservice. You knew it was more than that - the way it moved with purpose across the endless blue above. The different shades that reminded you of the grass on which you stood and dark as the forest that surrounded you. 

“Come on,” Thao called over his shoulder. Your name calling from his lips like it would be enough to coax you forward. “I want to get back to actually enjoy what little of my day I have left.”

“You can enjoy it now,” you reminded him. 

It took a few more seconds - another millisecond after that - for your eyes to turn back to the world around you. The snap of a branch somewhere off to your right informing you Thao had taken off without waiting for you to catch up. 

“Not when my friends are back at the colony having fun without me. And I’m out here looking for dumb ass yaks.”

A small tut of disapproval clicked at the roof of your mouth. Your stride easily brings you closer to the shorter eleven-year-old boy. It allowed you to gently ruffle his hair. Your efforts were greeted by a grunt of annoyance with his hand grabbing at your wrist to gently shove you away. 

“And just think, you would be there now, doing whatever it is you troublemakers do, if you and your friends hadn’t set a flare off inside Caster’s hut. And don’t disrespect the yaks.”

Thao’s eyes disappeared inside his head as your elbow gently nudged his shoulder. You must be making some kind of progress, because this time he made no move to push you away. 

“Old man deserved it. Always hoarding the chicken eggs.”

“He owns the chickens.”

“So?”

“So,” you drawled, “it means he owns the eggs. Owning the eggs also means he gets to distribute them however he sees fit.”

“How is that fair? You know he gave Lydia and her kids three eggs last week? Three eggs. What is a family of five supposed to do with that? It’s not right.”

You knew what Thao meant. You understood the feeling of anger that burned into sadness and ultimately to the ash of defeat. Kahn allowed those who proved useful in the fight against the UNSC to have a majority hold on most of the items in the colony. Those who allowed themselves to be shuffled around an unseeable chessboard like pawns. 

Willing to die, to give up everything, at his disposal. 

All in the name of fighting a government who grew more powerful everyday. The UNSC sharing their own videos of propaganda that showed thousands upon thousands of soldiers equally willing to die for a cause, and Spartans being the unmovable force needed to shift any battle back into the UNSC’s favor. It was this very reason Kahn looked for those desperate enough to join, to do anything he asked, to win. 

A devoted father agrees to be a walking bomb to blow up a UNSC building? His family is rewarded with food, wood, and blankets to help make it through the harsh winters. Attempting to infiltrate a building to release a virus, whether you were caught or not, Kahn took care of your family. It could be with livestock, guns for protection, or even the yaks whose pelts made the biggest profit at the markets. 

Every loss of life was just another reminder of the men and women who slowly disappeared from the colony. A senseless loss of life. You were still trying to figure out what it was for; what purpose you hadn’t been able to see, because for every life lost in the pursuit of justice against the USNC, their numbers only grew. The colony's numbers, however, weren't so lucky. 

“You could turn this war around.”

“I won’t kill for you, Kahn.”

You swiftly whipped your head to the side to rid yourself of the memory. Your eyes narrowing on the green rolling hills on the other side of the treeline. That was where you would find the yaks grazing. You gently patted Thao’ss shoulder - for whatever comfort it would give - before you moved forward to take point. 

“That’s because it isn’t fair, Thao.”

“See! Even you agree,” Thao huffed out your name. His small body broke into a jog to match your hurried step. “If anyone in the colony would be able to kick his ass, it would be you.”

Your feet were turning before you’d even realized it. Your body answered the piercing spike of adrenaline in your blood with your hands shooting out to grab his shoulders. The action made you crouch a couple inches until you were face-to-face with Thao. Your eyes scanned wildly across his features reading nothing but uncertainty. 

“Don’t ever say something like that out loud again, Thao. Do you understand me?”

“I was only saying-“

“I know what you're trying to say. The answer is no, and if Kahn or any of his dumbass lackies ever heard you even mention something like that we are both as good as dead.”

“But-“

“Tell me you understand!”

If anyone asked why you felt the sudden surge of panic ripple over your skin, you wouldn’t be able to say, or  place where it stemmed from. Technically, the both of you were out in the safety of the mountain fields and away from the prying eyes of Kahn’s dictatorship. Lost behind a sea of forest, the rolling fields of green, and poppies that puddled around you like blood. 

You’d seen what Kahn and his insurrectionists were capable of. Any whisper - false or not - and the person went missing. Kahn ruled the colony with the fear generated by the UNSC, but cultivated his own like the boogeyman. 

“Yeah I get it. Whatever.”

Thao shrugged out of your hold and turned away from you. His pre-teen feet stomped a path out of the tree line and out into the field. A sigh left you, worn and heavy, as you watched his retreat. 

I Should’ve been softer…

You let out a huff of air as a hand scrubbed over your face. It was supposed to be a simple ‘herd the yaks back to the colony’ type of day. Not grovel to one of the only people - kid or not - who wasn’t afraid of you. 

It was your turn to jog after his retreating form. Quickly, you noticed that he didn’t even look up to acknowledge your presence. He wasn’t sending jokes about being an old lady (you were twenty-four, thank you very much) whose brittle bones could snap under the strain of being a person. You would’ve taken being called an old lady than suffering through the silent treatment. 

Gently, you nudged his shoulder with your elbow. When he didn’t turn you tried again and again until, finally, you were rewarded with him turning an annoyed side-eye in your direction. You gave him your best apologetic smile and carefully looped your arm around his shoulders to bring him in close. 

“I’m sorry. Okay? I was kind of an asshole.”

“A major asshole.”

“Okay. I’ll accept that major part but only for today.”

“If there was an asshole award, you would’ve taken home the prize-“

“Okay, geez. I get it.”

You both settled into a comfortable pace with your arm still draped over his shoulders. Your mind raced back to the last time you’d been able to do this.  Thao had been younger - shorter - and with the rate he was growing, you soon might not be able to reach him. Soon, Thao might not care for your company. 

“You know, I am surprised you didn’t fracture an ankle running after me at your tender age.”

“Alright, that’s enough for today,” you grumbled in mock annoyance. 

You ended up having to shove him away just to try and hide the smile that threatened to lift the edges of your mouth. The sound of Thao’s laughter at your weak attempt at being mean - he 100% knew it took way too much to even make you raise your voice - made the crack of a smile begin to form. 

The yaks were about another ten or so feet ahead of you both. Their massive bodies moved in slow steps while they grazed along the long grass. You weren’t sure if it was their adorable long bangs that made it impossible for them to notice you right away (doubtful) or if they just didn’t consider either of you a threat (possible). Either way, they didn’t startle as the two of you closed the remaining distance. Didn’t jump up to try and kick or gore either of you with their horns when Thao produced the ropes from his satchel. 

It took a grand total of ten minutes, maybe less, to have all seven of the yaks securely held in makeshift collars from the rope. Their large bodies begrudgingly followed the two of you as you gently pulled the lead, forcing them to give up their meal of dewy grass and follow you back through the treeline. 

“You know,” Thao cautiously began, his eyes skimming between you and the trees. “This might be a lot faster if you just…ya know, float them up.”

“Float them up?”

“With your blue magic.”

This time you weren’t able to hide your smile as you shook your head. 

“It’s called biotics, Thao, not blue magic.”

“Blue magic sounds waaaay cooler than ‘biotics’. Who even came up with that lame name, anyway.” 

“You can thank the good folks at Conatix for that one.”

One of the yaks pulled back on its lead forcing you to give a slight tug back. You could understand if they were tired after eating, but you really didn’t have time in your schedule for yak naps. A huff of air came from the nostrils of the yak to drive home that it wasn't happy not having its nap. Or maybe it was the berry bush it was after, either way, napping and eating stops were prohibited. 

You weren’t aware the conversation had died until Thao’s voice interrupted the silence. 

“Is it true that you were born like that?”

His question was timid - afraid he would upset you. You were used to the questions; the stares. You remember sitting with your parents in a room, about Thao’s age, when Conatix came back around trying to clean up their mess. Said mess being spilling eezo from their ships across planets that later infected children. While some pregnant mothers had children like you, exposed to element zero in the womb creating a nervous system made of eezo, a majority were far less lucky. Children born riddled with tumors or horrific physical complications that left them in pain their entire lives. 

You were supposed to be a lucky one. 

One of the lucky ones they’d been trying to take back with them to their laboratories. A lucky one meant to be bought by a substantial fee that your parents quickly declined. It was the last choice they ever got to make for you before they mysteriously died in a tragic accident off-world. 

“Yes.”

You didn’t feel lucky and maybe it was the way the words crumbled out of your mouth. The way they sat suspended in the air in a swirl of regrets and dead wishes that Thao knew you didn’t want to talk anymore. Not about your past or anything that reminded you that what you are - who you are - has felt like one big burden. You wondered, most nights, if there was a possibility that curses could be born. 

————

The rest of the walk back was filled with an awkward silence. You weren’t sure if it was one you’d made by your lack of response, or if Thao no longer felt like talking. A part of you feared the image he’d held of you since he was young, full of mystery that made you seem cool, was slowly becoming destroyed. You knew it was a matter of time before it happened.

You were an anomaly. 

Children saw you as magical, while adults believed you could perform some kind of mind control or read their thoughts. It was the main reason Kahn wanted you to join the resistance. Who wouldn’t want someone who could read thoughts and control minds on their team? You’d know when and where attacks could happen and make them blow up their ships from the inside. Unfortunately, for Kahn, the only thoughts you could read were your own and, as of right now, they were desperately shouting at you not to lose one of the few friends you had left. 

Even if they happened to be a young boy who was notorious for being the most talkative kid in the colony. 

With a few more steps up the hill, you both came to a stop at the top of the hill. You took in the thatched roofs of the huts that lay scattered in a misshapen circle of rows. The outer ring of homes were made of clay and the only splash’s of color came from designs being painted on the sides of homes or flowers planted in the yard. 

The middle ring was meant to be for men like Kahn and his commanders; men and women of importance so that they lived closer to the final, smaller ring, of storefronts and farmers. The middle circle was left open and featured a large walkway down the center of town and out into the hills. 

Kahn specifically had the colony built this way. The walkway was the most important, because Kahn believed it was good for his people to be able to watch those that fought for their freedoms return from another victory against the UNSC. You knew it was more about parading around having people kiss his ass than for uplifting any kind of morale. 

It was the same path that Thao and you took now as you brought in the yaks from the mountains. You knew it wouldn’t be long until you got them back inside their pen and with the irritated snorts and tugs on their leashes, the yaks knew it too. The sound of multiple small feet came rushing in on Thao’s side and the faces of a few village children came into view. They made sure to stop just before they got in the way of a yak. 

“Thao, can you come play?” 

“Not yet. I have to finish this choir for Caster.”

A lot of groaning ensued and you felt your free hand reach over the back of a yak. Your fingers waving for him to give you his leashes. Thao’s brow raised in question and you only answered him by pointing at the leash and waving him again to hand it over. 

“Hurry up and give them to me before I change my mind.”

You were trying to be grumpy. The way any elder in town would complain about the youth of today being too soft and not knowing the meaning of hard work and blah blah. You were sure they were all just stuck in super grouchy mode from having to be an adult with responsibilities for too long. And because of that, you knew, instead of looking grumpy, a smile was already brightening up your face. Thao’s face lit up in response and his eyes darted - unsure - from up the path and back to you. 

“Are you sure? Caster -“

“Will never know that you didn’t help bring them all the way back. Now, like I said, hand over the lead before I suddenly have a fit of amnesia.” 

He didn’t need further prompting. Thao’s hand smashed the remaining leashes into your waiting palm and turned on his heel to run off with the other kids. A soft, “thank you,” calling out behind him. 

You didn’t waste any more  time watching their retreating backs as they tore down a small alleyway between huts. You had your own things that you still needed to finish today. As you continued on your way, you greeted people who were outside in their gardens or hanging up laundry. Some of them returned your greetings of, “Hello,” with grunts with their backs turned to you or hurried inside. Apparently, if they didn’t look you in the eye or were behind the safety of a wall it kept you from using your mind control powers. 

You were willing to bet Kahn had something to do with that latest lie about your make believe abilities. If you wouldn’t fight for him, why not cause a little mass panic in your presence. You being the monster and him, the hero, forcing you to toe the line. No ‘mind reading’ unless it was for the ‘cause’. 

As you neared the pen in front of Caster’s shop, you started to rotate the leashes tighter in your hands. You were positive if the yaks felt a slack in their leash, they would attempt a revolt. They also weren’t the biggest fan of the metal pen of broken down ships Caster created to house them; the metal of an old hatch door from a USNC frigate - rusted and covered in moss - groaned as it opened. A sound the yaks knew well and instantly sent their hooves stamping into the muddy grass. 

“Alright, ladies, I don’t want any trouble. It’s time to get your butts back in here - whoa!”You shot around with a start as one of the yaks gently bumped its nose against your back sending you forward towards the pen. “None of that,” you mumbled. Your index finger pointing at your chest then back to every single one of them. “Your home, not mine. Now go.”

With a cautious glance over your shoulder you took a step forward leading the herd inside. It wasn’t until you’d begun to remove their leashes that the familiar sound of a man clearing his throat brought your gaze up to search the fence. It didn’t take long for you to find Caster leaning against it. An arm hanging over while the other held up whatever self-righteous bullshit questioning he was about to spew. 

“Where’s Thao?”

“He helped me bring them here, Caster. I sent him on his way once we reached the pen.”

“That’s not what he was told to do and you don’t have any authority to change orders.”

Every word reached you like a slap in the face. Caster’s irritation was evident with the click of his tongue. You tried to keep your face neutral; your gaze fixed on one of the yak's as your fingers ran through the tangled fur. You gave one final pat to signal your departure before you walked back to the pen’s exit. 

“I wasn’t aware Thao had to be the specific individual to deliver a bunch of yaks inside the pen.”

“Bullshit,” Caster snarled your name. His body closing the distance between you as you stepped through the pen entrance. “You can try and play dumb with me all you want, but we both know you aren’t that damn dense. Thao can’t shut up even for a second in his sleep, and you’re trying to tell me the boy magically didn’t complain the whole time he was with you?”

Caster invaded what little space you had once you stepped fully out from behind the pen. The door hadn’t even closed yet before Caster rushed you, attempting to trap you between him and the metal. The cold gray of his eyes roamed your face waiting for you to break at his intimidation. 

One of the Shadow Sea’s three moons would have to explode first before that ever happened. 

You jammed the cool metal of the pens chains into his chest. You didn’t bother to see if he would catch it when you released it. You knew he would, and when Caster did, you made sure to take a step towards him forcing the older man two options; hold his ground or back up. You weren’t surprised when he did the latter. 

“You’re right, Caster, I’m not that damn dense. Close up your own fucking pen.”

You didn’t give him the chance to reply. The first step you took forced him to take another step back, your shoulder ramming into his as you pushed your way past him. 

Could you have gone around? 

Yes, but, no matter what, it felt a lot better being petty for a couple of seconds than pretending for a second you cared. 

It didn’t take Caster long to find his bearings. The sound of the chains rustling in his hands and a slew of curses thrown at your back were the first to greet you before he yelled after you: “Just wait until Kahn hears about this!”

“Yea, yea,” you mumbled.

You were willing to bet no matter how the exchange between Caster and you went, Kahn was always going to hear how it went. Good or bad. Caster yelled something else at your retreating back. You responded with a wave and continued back down the main path before you veered off course into a smaller path. It was one you knew well since you were a child. One you knew led to your grandparents' hut. 

Smoke rose from the clay chimney and you knew, before you entered through the doorway, you’d find your grandfather working to dry his latest clay pots by the fire. Your grandmothers weathered fingers working tirelessly with a needle and her beadwork scattered over the small table. It was only a few days before everyone with goods left to try and sell them at the Market. You moved through the small space stopping to kiss the top of your grandmother’s head before you gently took over for your grandfather. 

“And where did you run off to this morning?” 

You didn’t have to look up to feel the weight of your grandfather’s stare. His scrutinizing eyes waiting for you to give him a response knowing full well it wasn’t going to be the one he wanted.

“There is no need to worry, grandpa. I was nowhere and everywhere all at once.”

“That sentence alone turned what little hair I have left white.”

“All of your hairs’ already white.”

“Precisely my point,” he groaned. 

The soft chuckle of your grandmother cut through the tension in the small room. Your eyes now directed to the open flame and focused on turning the pot slowly with the tongs. The last thing you wanted to hear on top of giving your grandfather white hair and an early grave was ruining a pot he’d worked on most of this morning. 

“Would you two stop it? I’m sure she has a perfectly good explanation for why she was missing this morning. Don’t you dear?”

Your grandmother sent a coy look in your direction and you couldn’t wait to completely crush her dreams. While your grandfather believed in hard work, your grandmother believed in finding a good spouse who could provide for the imaginary great grandchildren she’d already named. 

Either that or joining the resistance. 

“I was out helping Thao rally up the yaks that ran away this morning.”

A sigh so heavy escaped from your grandfather’s chest that you could’ve sworn all your ancestors before you joined him. 

“And there it is.”

The soft call of your name forced your attention back to where your grandmother now sat idle. Her hands placing the beadwork and adjoining needles on the table. Her small frame turned on the bench to make sure she had your full attention. 

“I’m happy you want to help but you already know Kahn will-“

“Will throw a bitch fit. Yeah, yeah, I know.”

A smack on your arm sent you jolting back in surprise. Your eyes cautiously roaming over to your grandmother to see if she was going to hit you again. With how tightly her lips were pressed together, you had a feeling, with some of the things that came from your mouth, the possibility of her doing it again was imminent. 

“Whether you like him or not, Kahn is our leader.”

“No, he is your leader. Kahn will never be mine. A real leader doesn’t sacrifice their people to gain information or so they don’t get locked up inside a UNSC prison.”

“And do you think there is someone more fit to lead if he was gone? Who do you think would run the rebellion?”

“Plenty of more competent individuals could step forward to take his place if he wasn’t aro-“

You realized you sounded like Thao who, hours before, you’d shushed him into complacency. Your fear for his safety was paramount over how right his words might have been. And here you were doing the exact same thing inside your grandparents hut. 

“Enough!” 

Your grandfather wasn’t known for raising his voice and when he did it was usually out of desperation; a fear that surpassed anger that delved into worry from the unknown. You could see it now etched into every wrinkle that creased in the sagging skin of his sunburnt face. The way he tried to hold onto the anger before it was swept away by something he wouldn’t voice in fear of giving it a name. 

“Whether you like it or not, Kahn runs this settlement. He is the only one working here to free us from the tyrant that is the UNSC! At least he is doing something, which is more than I can say for my own granddaughter!”

“Ernest,” your grandmother’s voice cautioned. 

“So you want me to just let him use me like some kind of weapon?”

You no longer cared about holding the pinchers over the fire or the clay pot - your grandfather's life’s work - held delicately between them. As you stood up from the stool you dropped the pinchers and the sound of clay cracking tapered over your shuddering breathing for just a moment. You moved away from the fire towards a corner of the room closest to the door. The thunder in your ears drowning out the shouts of your grandmother; your eyes coming in and out of focus as you tried to ease the panic from your veins. 

It would only take a second - a fatal second of panic to fill the room with a cobalt hue of flame that would ruin everything. 

“Kahn offers you a way to use your gift, to teach you how to use it, and better help our people and you spit in his face!” He hissed. “Your parents gave their life for the cause-“

“And what has Kahn given!?” You hadn’t meant to scream. Each word laced with a grief stricken with rage that only bloomed brighter over time. “He asks families to give their husbands, wives, their children to fight his battles and what the fuck does he do for us?!”

“Why can’t you ever see that you can help save us? Kahn can help teach you how to control it.”

“Help me control it or control me?”

“You ungrateful child.”

His words hissed through the air and buried themselves in the hollow of your chest. Your feet involuntarily took a step back, ready to flee the hut, ready to find peace in the hills of the forest when the collective raised shouts of the villagers rang out from behind the walls. 

“UNSC vessels spotted!”

It was the distraction you needed to escape the hut. The shouts of worried men and women pushing you to rush outside and greedily take gulp after gulp of fresh air until the flare, the warmth, of your power began to dig back inside your skin. When you dragged your gaze away from the grass you were greeted with villagers running back and forth. The ones who sprinted down the open lane back out towards the open forest only ended up coming back moments later. 

You made your way out into the crowd, weaving in between the bodies to get to the heart of the circle their bodies created. They all stood in large huddled groups; mothers clutching their children and the able bodied men moving in front of them, in front of everyone, to try and guard them. The villagers who tried running down the main road were coming, as if herded, back to the center of the village. You didn’t understand why they were all running back to the middle. 

This was a kill zone. 

Strategically the worst place to be for any of the resistance fighters if they were going to make any attempt to fight back. It wasn't until you made it to the middle that your earlier rage turned to ice as you watched the UNSC marines, and four very big fucking Spartans, make their way up the middle. 

If Spartans were here you knew no one stood a chance. A fight would be suicide. You needed to get back to your grandparents. You needed - 

“Attention settlers of the Lera system of Laconix: I am Captain Jacob Keyes of the USNC. We have viable intel that led us to believe that you are harboring a fugitive by the name of Kahn Montrello - a known insurrectionist. We are asking for your cooperation in this matter. We can resolve this matter peacefully, with no need to resort to any unnecessary violence.”

“Screw you! You have no jurisdiction here or any outer colonies.”

Fred. That was his name. Maybe. You didn’t know - couldn’t remember. Your brain couldn’t think past your own rushing pulse or speeding thoughts. He was just pushing past the crowd with angry shouts and limbs flying while he moved towards them. You watched as he made his way towards the marines like a man on fire, and was met by a Marine who burned brighter. The butt of their gun cracking against his cheek sent him spiraling to the ground. 

You weren’t sure if you were already panicked or if the sight of blood seeping through his fingers caused it. No matter what the real reason was you knew there was no getting around whatever came next. Like a swarm of locusts, the marines fanned out and moved forward. Their bodies corralled the villagers tighter together and kept any hope of escape at bay. 

It was the perfect time for Kahn to make his appearance. His form practically glided from between a lake of terrified bodies frozen in fear, clutching one another, as he opened his arms in welcome. 

“You say you wish us no violence, only want our cooperation, and yet attack a simple working man.”

“You need to stay where you are or you will be taken down with force,” a marine answered, their gun trained on Kahn who continued to take careful steps forward. 

He responded with his hands showing he wasn’t armed. Kahn made a show to come to a stop in front of Captain Keyes. 

“Maybe that was advice you should’ve opened with, Captain Keyes.”

Kahn was treating this like a joke. He was wearing that easy smile of his displaying he didn’t have a care in the world. He was either suicidal, genocidial in willing to let them completely kill the colony or, you realized with a sickening drop in your stomach, Kahn had another plan. 

“And you are?”

“I’m Malcom. Another humble merchant who lives here.”

Liar! 

The panic that settled like lead inside your gut dropped heavier, threatening to upend whatever was left from your morning breakfast. You didn’t have to guess what his plans were, because Kahn was laying them bare for everyone to see. The only difference between you and everyone else is that whoever he chose to sacrifice for the name of his ‘revolution’ would be met with silence. 

Captain Keyes outlined Kahn’s frame with suspicion and a pebble of hope was thrown your way. Maybe he could sense the lie that costed Kahn’s words. Maybe it would be enough for him to call bullshit. 

“Okay, Malcolm. And what is it you’re wanting?”

“I want nothing, Captain. I just want to show you exactly who you are looking for.” 

Kahn never intended to point the finger at himself - why would he when there were dozens of men brainwashed to think their sacrifice mattered. You followed his finger like everyone else drawn to the imaginary string he pulled and waited to see what poor fool he chose this time. 

Except this time - no…NO! 

It was your grandfather who took a step forward out of the dozens of bodies. The wooden tip of his cane met the ground with a depth of a shovel digging a grave with each step. Your grandmother reached out her arms - called for him to come back - but he continued to make his way forward. His head held high like he was making a decision everyone should be proud of. 

“I am Kahn Montrello. The man you seek.”

Captain Keyes took one look at your grandfather and you could see the disbelief reflected in his eyes. The way they darkened further on a decision you, or anyone else, would ever be made aware of until he made it. 

“I’ve never known an insurrectionist leader to give themselves up so willingly.”

Thank god Captain Keyes was smarter than he looked. Your grandfather, however, wasn’t backing down. He squared his shoulders and planted his hands coolly over the hilt of his cane. His head held high enough for his next words to strangle him. 

“Any leader should be willing to give themselves up for the safety of their people. Is that what you can offer me, Captain Keyes? The safety of my colony if I come willingly?”

“What are you doing?”

You were sure it was the panic that surged you forward. How you found yourself taking step after step until you were out from behind every last villager and into the clearing with Kahn and your grandfather. 

“Stay back!”

“Don’t take another step forward!”

You were vaguely aware of the commands being slung your way. The arms that lifted weapons as you took scrambling steps towards your grandfather who only looked on with distaste. 

“Go back with the others. I won’t tell you again.”

It was the voice he’d used countless times since you were a child. A voice that radiated with authority that now only showcased his age. A part of you wanted to follow his orders and run to your grandmother’s side. To be a good granddaughter and comfort her the way she needed. 

But she wouldn’t need comforting if Kahn wasn’t such a fucking coward. 

“No!”

He hissed your name as he nervously looked out over the marines. At Captain Keyes.

“Be good and do as you're told.”

“I won’t let you do this!”

“And I don’t need your permission-“

“What about grandma? You’re just going to leave her like this?”

“I wasn’t aware Kahn Montrello had grandchildren?” Keyes quipped. 

You could see your grandfather open his mouth to reply and you made sure to cut him off before he could say another lie. 

“That’s because he doesn’t because Kahn -“

“Apologies, Captain Keyes,” Kahn cut in. “This girl is unwell. Ever since she lost her parents -“

“Don’t you dare speak about them.“

“-she’s been desperately trying to cling to anyone willing to call her family.”

You weren’t aware you were moving forward until you heard the shouts from the marines; the gasps of fear from your own people. You were vaguely aware of the tingle of heat that moved like a shockwave from your fingertips up your arms until it consumed you. In another time, a different life, maybe you would’ve been aware that your biotics had flared to life and enveloped you in what looked like cobalt flame. 

A fitting image for the one Kahn so lovingly painted for you. An unhinged woman filled with crazy fantasies and a desperation for family.

The only thing you could focus on was Kahn who stood before you. The coward who easily was willing to give your grandfather up to the UNSC knowing what they do to insurrectionist leaders. The unspeakable torture done to collect secrets, and their executions televised on every available feed for all to see. 

With the thought of your grandfather’s future weighing behind your eyes you lashed out. Your hand rising forward to catch Kahn midway in taking a step back. Your biotics held him suspended in the air. You were vaguely aware of what sounded like your grandfather calling your name. The wood of his cane crunching through dirt and leaves to rush to you. 

There was more shouting - orders being relayed and metal clicks of safeties being released - and you knew chaos was about to ensue. 

“Spartan’s your orders are to grab the insurrectionist known as Kahn Montrello. Marines focus on providing backup and subduing any and all threats.”

A wash of relief rippled through you. The UNSC had come to their senses. They  must have realized Kahn for the liar he was. Captain Keyes caught on that the rouse Kahn created with your grandfather was all a lie. 

Except that wasn’t what happened. 

The marines who fanned out around the clearing were now moving in towards one sole target: you. The Spartans who Keyes sent forward to capture Kahn weren’t headed in your direction, but towards your grandfather who was visibly shaking as he watched two of the UNSC’s giants - their most powerful weapons - move towards him. 

“No! You have it all wrong! He isn’t Kahn!”

You released the hold you had on Kahn. No longer was he held suspended in the air as you sent his body flying towards the marines. Your feet were digging into the soil, pitching you forward in a hard sprint, as you barreled blindly towards your grandfather. You could hear him warning you to stay back - ‘stay away’ - but you never were good with doing what you were told. 

The closest Spartan,only identified by the numbers 028 on her chest, was almost on him. They were so close it would only take a couple more inches and this Spartan would grab a hold of him and you would lose him. Forever.

You were running on pure adrenaline. Your vision honed in on nothing else but the hand of the Spartan that reached out to grab at his arm. If they got a hold of him, that was it. You called on every cell of energy in your body, your arm drawing back - nerves frying - as the eezo inside your body compacted in the space around you, changing it into a powerful ball that you launched with a scream. The Spartan barely had time to react when the cobalt sphere of element zero slammed into her suit and sent her flying back. 

“Riz!”

You had a split second to make half a shield before the second Spartan’s fist slammed against it. The impact snapped like a shockwave of its own. The force of impact sent your feet sliding back against the dirt. The sound of heavy footsteps following your rolling body forced you to spring to your knees as you called on another surge of element zero and sent it flying like a fastball. 

It slammed into the Spartan but, unlike the first one, it barely slowed them down. The impact crackled against the air and the force field around his armor allowing your biotics to push them back only a few feet. It was all the feet you needed to scramble on all fours to your grandfather, who was kneeling in a heap in the dirt. 

As soon as you slide in next to him, you put up a small force field - a bubble of blue that encapsulated you both just in time before bullets bounced against the shield. Gently, you secured an arm underneath his shoulders and tried to lift him up to you. All while your right hand stayed pressed against the barrier you’d created. Your arms shaking with the strain of holding back another round of gunfire and the slamming fists of a very big, very angry, Spartan. 

You were running out of time. The strain of keeping the barrier up, of using powers you usually never touched, left a noticeable trail of perspiration to crown your forehead. If you kept this up much longer, you knew the nosebleeds would start soon. 

“Come on grandpa. We have to get up now. We gotta get you out of here.”

“Just let them take me, deheyah*.”

A heavy wave of memory, weighted with emotions thick and stifling, threatened to knock you off balance. The last time your grandfather had ever called you that, was before your parents died. When you were allowed the luxury of childhood innocence and the imagination that the world held the beauty of magic before it was destroyed by the gravity of reality. 

“That’s not going to happen, grandpa. I won’t let it happen. I can’t lose you too.”

Your body jerked with the next slam of a fist against the barrier. The impact sent a shutter down into the marrow of your bones and snapped at your nervous system. The pain was immediate and tore a gasp from you. 

“You will never lose me. I will always be with you. Wherever you go. Whatever you choose to be.”

“No.” 

You shook your head violently forcing him to reach out to steady you. The soft leather of his hand cupped your cheek quieting your protests and forced you to keep your eyes on him. 

“I’m sorry for what I said. Earlier. I just - I just wanted what was best for you. I always have. But…only you know what is best for your life. Never stop fighting. Don’t be afraid of who you can be.”

“Why are you talking like this? This isn’t goodbye grandpa. Come on, I have to get you back to grandma. She’s going to be pissed if you just stay here.”

But it was, wasn’t it? You’d felt it when your hands touched the layers of shawls that draped over his chest. It was wetter than it should’ve been. His eyes glassy and unfocused and struggling to keep them on you while he spoke. Somehow, you’d been a few moments too late when the bullets came your way, and those few seconds allowed the hollow point of a bullet to find a hole in the center of his chest. 

Blood covered your left hand as another sharp synopsis of pain resonated through your nervous system. Spartan 028, Riz, was back up and hammering away at the sphere of the barrier you’d created. The pain should’ve been unbearable but nothing compared to the last gasp of air that shuddered from your grandfather. It couldn’t compare to the feeling of his body, lifeless, and sagging towards the earth where the weight forced you to place him. 

None of this would’ve happened if Kahn wasn’t a coward. If he didn’t use people, the very people he claimed were his. People he swore to defend and liberate - for his own gain. 

The anger swelled brighter inside like a raging flame. Every beating your nervous system took holding up the barrier became a dulled sensation as you struggled to breathe around the loss of your grandfather. 

The Spartans had stopped but didn’t move back. A woman was off to your right. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Smiling like she was friendly but the mock kindness didn’t reach her eyes. They were bright with excitement; the way hunters spotted prey. A scientist finding a new object to dissect. 

“…I’m Doctor Halsey.”

Of course she was. She wanted to dissect you. The same way the scientists from Conatix tried many years ago by trying to buy you from your parents. She was saying your name but she had no right to it. 

This Dr. Halsey. 

False smile given under false pretenses. Just like Kahn has his fancy glittering speeches that kept hopes high and results low. 

“We don’t want to harm you. If you are willing to come peacefully we promise we will leave the colony immediately. No further bloodshed needs to happen.”

The part of you that wasn’t soaked in grief agreed. It was the best call to make - the right call. It promised no more suffering would happen. It meant your grandmother would be safe. 

Your grandmother. A woman who lost her son. Her husband. Now her granddaughter. Who would watch her if you left? The thought alone sprang a sharp refusal to your tongue until you stood, your eyes cast down at the warm body of your grandfather. In that moment, whatever reasonable human being you used to be ceased to exist. The only thing left was rage. 

Dr. Halsey must have noticed. No longer was she crouched to be eye level with you. She returned to her full height. Her hands placed out in front to shield herself, as if that would be enough to stop what happened next. 

“Whatever you’re thinking - don’t.” 

Your reply came in a scream that crawled its way from the pit of despair that had lodged itself inside your heart. The loss of your parents, the death of your grandfather,  and for your grandmother who would be alone. You used that hurt, bitterness, and rage and used it to erupt your shield into a burst of biotic energy that detonated like a bomb. The sheer force alone sent the Spartans back. 

It wasn’t enough but you only needed a minute or two. Just enough time for you to send your biotics crackling along the air in a line until it grabbed a hold of Kahn and pulled him like a slingshot of force back towards you. When he was close enough, you dropped your left hand that you’d use to control the pull of his body, and cocked back your right arm, your palm open, and launched it forward. The slam of the biotics hit home at the center of his chest launching Kahn back through the scrambling crowd of people, with the sickening crack of his sternum mixing with the scream that tore from your throat.

It was all the time you had before the Spartan marked with 117 came into view. His armored fist closes in like a warthog at full speed against your cheek, sending your body spiraling into the dirt. You could feel the earth shift with tremors as he moved to follow you. You could taste the blood from the hit and wondered if your jaw was broken. If you just lost a whole row of teeth. 

“John, Incapacitate her only! I need her to be brought back with us. Alive.”

For a glorious moment, your blurred vision swirled only with the uninterrupted view of the sky before the cameo green of Master Chief, savior of the galaxy - or John - 117 -  helmet came into view. A joke was brewing on the back of your tongue, covered in humor and blood before his fist came crashing down your line of sight, and the world became blissfully quiet.

_________

You found that the darkness wasn’t as quiet as you’d hoped.

The impact from the punch the Maater Chief, or John - 117 as that woman called him,  had launched you into what felt like a nightmare. Held hostage by a paralysis of your own mind. Unable to change the forms of what you saw. The images were vivid. The sounds carried a weight that sat heavy like lead in your skull. It made you miss the pain of being conscious. 

You weren’t sure if the screams that bounced around inside your head were real or if they were just a part of the nightmare. Over and over your broken mind played out the moment a Marine’s bullet found a hole inside  your grandfather's gut. 

No matter how fast you ran, if you launched yourself in front of him, you were never fast enough. Each step you took sunk deeper into the earth as if your legs were trying to race through quicksand. Your own biotics mysteriously grew quiet - refusing to work for the first time in your life. 

No matter what the outcome never changed. Your grandfather was gone, and there was no time travel to head back and change that startling fact. 

A sickening lurch, one you knew meant a ship was coming out of slipspace, sent the contents of that morning’s breakfast swirling in your stomach. You barely had time to register that it was real, the nausea, and that you were really about to throw up. You’d barely rolled to your side before said breakfast displayed itself onto a very shiny metal floor. 

As soon as you finished, you rolled back onto your back. Your eyes fluttered open to take in the fluorescent lights, the cool slated metal ceiling that matched the walls and floor. It was definitely a cell, and you most definitely found out much too late that your wrists were tied behind your back. 

When you were sure you weren’t going to upend anymore of your breakfast, you slowly began to maneuver to sit on the only bench they’d laid you on. The pain in the sockets of your shoulders informing you that you’d been like this for quite a while. 

You were still trying to gather your bearings when the sliding doors to your right opened. A woman with blonde hair stood at the forefront with a Spartan, the dusk green armor of John - 117, standing protectively behind her. When she moved, he moved. You couldn’t help but consider her a puppeteer and the Spartan the puppet. He didn’t move unless she did and you doubted he would be doing any of the talking. 

She entered the room with a cautionary smile and clinical eyes assessing you before she even entered. It was easy to tell she was a scientist and, more than likely, a very experienced one in whatever it was she specialized in. 

“Hello, Subject Cobalt,” she said brightly. Her smile never faltered once. “I’m glad to see that you are alright. My name is Doctor Halsey. I’ve come to do an assessment on you and make sure you didn’t sustain any life-threatening or mind altering issues after what happened back on Laconix.”

Subject Cobalt? 

Was that supposed to be you?

You eyed her warily as she took her first step inside the cell. The heavy footsteps of Mjolnir armor followed closely behind. If she suspected you were jumpy - a rabbit in headlights, as the old ones used to say - Halsey never showed it. 

A few more steps and she was beside the bench. Another breath and she was sitting beside you. The smile on her face beaming and hollowing out her eyes with rapture at what she must have considered a new species. You made a fine new specimen for any scientist, you would imagine. A nervous system full of eezo that lit your body up like an Earthen Christmas tree and the power to wield it like a weapon.

Doctor Halsey was practically giddy beside you. 

“I’m going to do a few simple tests to verify cognitive function isn’t impaired. To do so, I’m going to need your assistance. Do you think you could do that for me?”

Your eyes scanned over her as you considered your options. It turned out to be a very short list that was available to you. The only option being to go along with what she asked. 

“Okay.”

That one word was all the go ahead Halsey needed to cause her megawatt smile to go up a notch. She must have thought you would be resistant to following orders and she wasn’t wrong but, from where you were sitting, this seemed like the lesser of two evils. 

“Splendid. First, I’m going to run this pen horizontally and vertically. I need you to focus on the tip of the pen, and follow it as closely as you can.”

“Okay.”

Doctor Halsey lifted the pen up to eye level, a few inches away from your face, and waited for your eyes to train on the silver point. You hadn’t expected an examination as soon as you woke up. You weren’t sure if you should’ve felt happy or worried about it. If you were one misstep away from becoming a lab rat. 

You’d been so deep in thought - your mind considering all the outcomes and possibilities of this interaction ending well - that you completely missed her first question. 

“I’m sorry. Can you repeat the question?”

Another smile. Another deflection. It was enough, however, for you to notice the tightness in the fine lines of her face. It was so small you could’ve missed it. 

“Of course. During your biotic episode on Laconix, I noticed your nose started bleeding. Does it do that every time you use your biotics?”

“No.”

The tightness again. This time it was the edges of her smile - suspended in that mock sweetness - that reminded you of your mother. Waiting for you to give more detail without prodding and realizing, rapidly, you feared incriminating yourself. The pen dropped into her lap. Her eyes roaming over your face for a sign - a tell - that she could exploit. 

“You aren’t in any kind of trouble. I’m merely trying to help you -“

“Is that what you’re trying here, Dr. Halsey? To be my friend? To tell me I’m not in any danger when you took me off my planet against my will?” You inquired. Her mouth was still suspended open, forming around a word cut short by your desire to not hear anymore bullshit. “It feels like there is more going on than what you’re sharing.”

She schooled her face - even her eyes - to remain emotionless. A perfect blank slate to display only what she wanted without giving away what she didn’t. 

“Alright. I watched you. At first, you seemed in control, but after the third or fourth time your biotics displayed themselves, and you overextended their use, you suffered an epistaxis - the nosebleed. Further scans done here in the ship’s medical bay presented signs of swelling and hematoma on the brain. A few hours before you woke up, I had them run another analysis and both are gone. Which leaves me to believe it only occurs upon exhaustion.”

She watched you as she spoke. Her gaze searching, prodding, for signs of whatever reaction she expected but wasn’t getting. You would’ve loved to offer up whatever it was she wanted, if only you knew which specific one she was hunting for. 

“Tell me. Do you get migraines?”

“What is this?”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s a lie,” you shot back. 

The tone in your voice matched the anxiety rising in your chest. It caused your words to be rougher than intended, alerting the Spartan in the corner who took a step towards you. Only the rising hand of calm - control - from Dr. Halsey kept him from taking another step. 

“I think you understand more than you’re willing to tell me or, at least, not wanting to show your whole hand, anyway. You’re a scientist, right? Probably super smart. Smart enough you probably come from some UNSC lab  from Reach or Illium?”

“Reach.”

The carefully constructed smile was back on her lips, but this time you could see a spark of something brighten up the soft blue of her eyes. You were doing something she didn’t expect, but her scientific mind found it fascinating. No doubt logging it away to draw it open later somewhere quiet to dissect. 

Your lips pouted around her admission. Reach. One of the top three planets, if not the first, for all private and commercial research filled with legal litigation and NDA’s to protect organizations and UNSC labs from the courts of public opinions. It was how Conatix got away with doing what they did to you and the other kids scattered across the galaxy. Only taking notice when it seemed like something that could benefit them. You weren’t stupid. Halsey had taken one look at what you could do - what you did - and only two things came to mind: control or destroy. 

You hadn’t figured out exactly which one you were to Dr. Halsey yet. 

“Are you going to kill me?”

Halsey didn’t necessarily give you a reason to think it was an outlandish guess. Everything - everyone - was expendable when it came to science and the betterment of humanity. Or whatever the UNSC’s science team's new slogan was.

“Why would we kill you?”

You tried to shrug off the growing anxiety that sat coiling inside your gut.

“To experiment on me. Take me apart and see what’s buried underneath, so to speak. Isn’t that what you people do.”

“You don’t realize what you are, do you? The advancement of human genetics - biology - that is flowing through you.”

“What’s flowing through me is eezo and it cost hundreds of children their lives.”

“Yes, but for one out of a hundred children there is something remarkable. You. The one out of a thousand. A stepping stone towards humans having a place amongst the vast and ever growing populace of space. I don’t want to kill you, Cobalt. I want to integrate you into my program.”

“What program?”

You wondered if madness was contagious. If you asked anyone else, they might have dismissed your words as too harsh. No doubt calling Halsey’s display of excitement for simply that, but you could see her eyes. Underneath all that perfectly concealed pleasant exterior was an intelligence that was willing to break the norms - rules - to get to whatever she needed. 

“I run the Spartan program. Granted, you are well past the parameters to become a Spartan, no, I…I want to make a subunit. I think Cobalt, we can help each other, and not only help each other, but possibly end this war.”

UNSC propaganda. 

That’s what the war was. Everyone in the outer colonies knew it was just a fancy attempt to stop the growing surge of colonists from joining the insurrectionists. Halsey sensed your doubt before you disregarded her words with a shake of your head. 

“No. The covenant is just a UNSC nightmare story to try and get the outer colonies to toe the line. To allow themselves to be governed under your jurisdiction.”

“I can promise you. It’s not.”

“Of course you would say that! You’re a USNC scientist for Christ’s sake!”

“John.”

Somehow, you’d forgotten that big hunk of tin was in the room. Halsey kept you focused on her - solely on her - that when the Spartan took a step forward, the reflection of the room mirrored in his visor, you almost jumped out of your skin. 

In his hand was a holopad that he deposited into her waiting palm. Halsey didn’t waste time logging in. Her fingers tapped wildly across the screen with a speed that left you dizzy. When she found whatever it was she’d been looking for she extended the holopad out for you to take. 

“This was transmitted to us only a few hours ago.”

Warily, you watched her. Your mind debating if you should take the holopad or tell her to fuck off. It was more made up videos or fancy speeches, you were sure of it. The grim lines of her face, however, left you wondering just how certain you were. It was her turn to place the holopad in your hands. Your gaze on her a few more seconds before it dropped down to the video that played on the screen.

Bright beams. It’s what you noticed first. Beams that erupted from the sky with such brilliant clarity you knew it could only be one form: plasma. You couldn’t understand - comprehend - what you were seeing. 

Plasma on that scale was impossible. It should’ve been and yet, you watched as it sliced through the planet's barrier, through molecules, and simple things like trees and mountains. Everything it touched turned red hot like lava from volcanoes you’d heard stories about that were on the original human planet of earth. While the plasma beam continued its destructive course, the magma it left behind flowed behind. 

You didn’t understand until you did. 

You knew that mountain. You’d glanced at it many times on walks to neighboring villages for trade. Attempted to climb it a thousand times as a child. 

“What is this?”

Your disbelief was met with something you couldn’t place from her. Halsey didn’t offer up sympathy. She offered up an understanding of watching everything you love disappear in a wave of destruction. But how could she understand the hollowness, the sinking feeling of dread that gripped your heart and threatened to make it stop?

“It’s Laconix. Shortly after we left the Covenant arrived. They glassed the planet.”

“Glassed? I - I don’t. I don’t understand.”

You were going to hyperventilate if you weren’t careful. 

“It’s gone, Cobalt.” That’s not my name. “The Covenant doesn’t take prisoners. They destroy everything. Kill everything. Your planet is gone.” 

Gone. 

Gone. 

Your home. What was left of your family - your people - your community. Gone. In less than 7.8 seconds of holopad footage. 

“But you can avenge them. You can fight for them and to protect every other planet still left out there in the galaxy and I can help you do it.”

Deep down a part of you knew this had been her tactic all along. If reason didn’t make someone join your cause, then using their emotions against them would. You should’ve seen it coming. Took the time to ask more questions but the growing hole in your soul moved on from shock and grief was rocketing towards unbridled rage at lightning speed. 

When you glanced back up at her, Halsey knew she had you before you even spoke. 

“What do you need me to do?”

As always, thank you so much for reading. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

[you-aint-gotta-pray-for-me]

Hell on Earth: Chapter 1

words: 2.7k

pairing: Steve Harrington x ex-friend!Henderson!reader (eventually romantic- could be called a slow burn I guess, but they're not together right now, there's some bad blood, just read it man I suck at summarizing T_T)

summary: Things do not seem normal in simple, down-to-earth town Hawkins, Indiana. With Will Byers missing, tensions rise while the mystery claims another victim.

timeline: set in season one right after Will goes missing

warnings: language, bending of canon, fic from reader's pov (3rd person will be there as well, will warn before a pov change if there is one)

a/n: hey guys! so, I see you have found the first part of Hell on Earth :) This is a Steve x reader, yes, I promise we will get there and it'll be awesome when we do, but as much as it is a reader insert Steve slash fic, this is also an actual Stranger Things spin-off story that I'm writing, meaning there will be a lot of focus on the actual plot along with steve and reader's relationship. Also yes, reader is Dustin's older sister.

Reader POV

Will Byers was the kind of kid you wouldn't know was missing until you looked for him. He didn't bother anybody, just kept to himself and his little group doing whatever it is kids these days do, you know? He was a simple, soft-spoken kid, the last person you would wish danger upon. So when I heard that he'd gone missing, I was as confused as I was worried.

"And he was with you when you cycled back home?"

"Yes, Jesus Christ (Y/n), for the millionth time. Yes."

"Don't get annoyed you little shit, I'm trying to help you here."

"Oh, excuse me for getting worried because my best friend is freaking missing."

"Dustin! Don't talk to your sister like that!" I heard Mom scream at us from the living room, oblivious to any context. I mean, he was right to get annoyed with me. His exasperated look at Mom's comment told me he thought the same thing. I just shook my head in understanding. What more can I do?

"Listen, I know you want to go looking for him, I would too, but you can't go on your own. I need you to promise me you won't go on your own, okay? Wait after school, and we'll go together."

"You get off school like two hours after I do, what am I supposed to do, sit and scream his name from my room and hope he shows up? Come on, man. That's bullsh-"

"Dustin."

"What?"

I stared at him, hoping my disapproving-but-concerned-older-sister look told him what he needed to hear. It did.

"Fine. 2 hours. A minute late and I'm going off on my own."

"Deal," I said, knowing full well that I'd have to ditch Algebra II. I wasn't complaining, though. Staring at a newly painted wall and waiting for it to dry would be more interesting than Algebra II.

Later that day

I had exactly 5 minutes to bolt before Algebra II started. I went to my locker and hurriedly rammed all my shit inside when I noticed my locker neighbor Barbara coming towards hers. We'd make conversation when we're at our lockers and smile and wave when we saw each other in the hallway. Outside of that, I didn't really know her all too well.

"Algebra II?"

"Nah, I'm ditching. I promised my brother I'd help him with some stuff."

"Lucky," she sighed. "I can't believe I need to sit through Mr Treeger's bullshit for 2 hours."

"You are welcome to join me if you'd like," I offered with a grin. "Algebra II can be soul-sucking."

"Thank you, really, but I can't leave Nancy hanging. Besides, we've got this thing later as well and, yeah, it's a whole thing, don't bother," she explained.

"Suit yourself, Barb." I shut my locker and almost left before I heard her voice again.

"I mean, if you need notes or anything, I could- uh- I could take them for you? If you want?" she said, almost like she wasn't sure I would take her up on her offer.

"I would love that, actually. Where do you live?"

"Uh, I think I’ll be at Steve’s party later. At the Harrington's. You know the place?" She shifted her books like they suddenly weighed too much. Her expression said she wasn't entirely looking forward to this.

Hearing Steve's name threw me slightly on edge. When you grow up with somebody and you fall out with them, you don't exactly forget things about them. I practically spent half my life at his house. I practically spent half my life with him. So, yes. I definitely knew the place.

"Y-yeah. I do"

"Great, I'll have it ready, then."

"Barb, you are literally an angel." I hurriedly gave her an impromptu hug and rushed outside to get to my car, where I saw Jonathan Byers handing out missing posters. His shoulders sagged under the weight of the stack in his hands and he looked like he hadn't slept in days. I can only imagine what he and Mrs Byers were going through.

I hesitated for a second before walking up to him. I knew Jonathan from Dustin hanging out with Will. We weren't close friends or anything, but someone had to say something. His hands trembled slightly as he stapled one of the posters onto the community board near the lot, his eyes darting nervously like he was waiting for Will to suddenly appear and tell him it was all a joke.

"Hey, Jonathan."

He flinched at my voice, turning to me with an exhausted half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Hey," he mumbled.

I nodded at the posters in his hands. "Any updates? Are the cops, like… actually doing anything?"

"They found his cycle a few minutes from Mirkwood. So that's... yeah. That's it, I guess?"

"What are they thinking?"

He hesitated, glancing down at the posters like he thought they might hold some kind of answer. "They think he might’ve run away, but that’s not Will. He wouldn’t just… leave."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, I don’t buy that either. Will’s not the type to just take off. He’s… dependable, you know?"

Jonathan looked at me for a moment, his expression softening just a little. "Thanks."

I shrugged, kicking at a loose rock on the ground. "For what? Telling the truth?"

"For… caring, I guess," he said, turning back to his work.

I watched him for a second longer, the weight of the whole situation sinking in deeper. "Let me know if you need help. With the posters or anything else."

Jonathan nodded, his focus back on the board. "Thanks," he said again, so quiet I almost missed it.

I didn’t know what else to say, so I just turned and walked back to my car, leaving him to keep stapling the same plea for help over and over.

I drove back home and Dustin was practically at the edge of his seat, looking like he was at the verge of explosion.

"What the hell took you so long?"

"Jesus Christ, I'm right on time. Give me a break."

He continued to yell at me about how time is of the essence. I held up a hand to calm him down. "Relax, I’m here now, aren’t I? Anyway, listen. They found some stuff near Mirkwood."

That got his attention. His eyes widened, his mouth snapping shut mid-rant. "What kind of stuff?"

I sat down across from him, leaning forward so Mom couldn’t overhear from the kitchen. "They found his bike. Just abandoned on the side of the road. No tracks, no clues, nothing else. It’s like he just… vanished."

Dustin’s face fell, his usual confident bravado cracking under the weight of what I’d just told him. "His bike?" he echoed, voice smaller now.

"Yeah. Cops are calling it ‘strange circumstances.’ I’m calling it suspicious as hell."

He nodded, jaw tightening as his brain started working overtime. "Okay. Okay, so that means he didn’t run away. Someone- or something- took him."

I flinched a little at how easily he jumped to "something." This was Hawkins. Strange wasn’t on the table.

"Dustin, don’t get carried away. Let’s stick to facts. We know where his bike was, and that’s it. But you promised me you wouldn’t do anything stupid, remember?"

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. "Fine. But we need to check it out. Together."

I sighed, knowing there was no talking him out of it. "Together. No sneaking off without me, got it?"

"Got it," he said, though I could tell from his tone he was already planning something.

A couple hours later

"So that was fucking useless."

"Dustin, come on. Don't be like that."

"We found nothing, (Y/n)! He's out there, probably being tortured for all we know, and we found literally nothing."

"Don't jump to conclusions. Yes, we don't know anything now. But we are not the only people looking. Okay?"

"I'm telling you. We should look for him right around when he went missing."

"No way I'm letting you go out there at 10 pm unsupervised. Mom would gut me."

"I won't be unsupervised if you're with me."

"Dustin," I sighed, slightly annoyed at how he wouldn't level with me at all. "Whatever happened to Will could be bigger than us. If it's something we can't handle, I don't want us to go all in with literally no information."

"Oh, come on! but-"

"No buts. Sit this one out. I am begging you. At least until we know something."

Even though he begrudgingly agreed, his words stuck with me. I hated the idea of him sneaking off on his own, but I also couldn’t shake the feeling that he was right. If there were answers out there, they wouldn’t come to us- we had to go to them. And if I knew Dustin at all, I knew exactly what that meant. He’d go anyway.

The only way for me to deal with this was to either find something before he did or supervise, just in case. And both those options required me to be out in the woods in the dead of the night. Perfect. I remembered that I had to stop by to see Barb so it won't all be for nothing.

The glow of streetlights flickered against the windshield as I pulled up to the Harringtons' house. The faint hum of music and muffled laughter carried through the warm night air, the telltale signs of a Steve Harrington classic. For a moment, I hesitated, fingers gripping the steering wheel. It had been a while since I’d set foot here, and it felt strange- nostalgic in a way that made my chest tight. I didn't like it.

I stepped out of the car and walked around the side of the house, avoiding the main door. I wasn’t here for the party, and I definitely wasn’t in the mood to exchange awkward hellos with people who probably didn’t even remember my name. Also, I might punch Tommy and Carol just because.

The backyard was bathed in the eerie blue glow of the pool lights. It was quieter here, the party sounds muffled by the distance. Sitting by the pool, her legs dangling lazily in the water, was Barb. She was hunched over slightly, fiddling with the strap of her watch, looking as out of place as I felt.

"Hey," I called softly, not wanting to startle her.

She looked up, her face lighting up with a small, relieved smile. "Oh, hey! You made it."

"Yeah," I said, walking over and sitting beside her on the cool concrete. "Figured I’d pick up those notes before your night gets too crazy," I said before I noticed her poorly bandaged hand bloody hand.

"Holy shit, you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's... nothing. I'm okay."

"Partied too hard?"

Barb scoffed, glancing over her shoulder at the house. "Yeah, not exactly my scene. Nancy’s inside with Steve. I’m just... taking a break."

I nodded, leaning back on my palms and staring at the pool. Nancy's inside with Steve. That didn't bother me at all. "Can’t say I blame you. These things get out of hand quickly," I said, slightly regretting my hand pun.

She laughed at my poorly timed joke and reached into her bag to pull out a neatly folded piece of paper. "Here you go. Sorry if it’s a little messy. Mr. Treeger was really on one today."

I took the notes with a grateful smile. "You’re the best, Barb. Seriously."

She waved it off like it was no big deal. "It’s nothing. So, what are you up to?"

I reached into my bag and pulled out a worn paperback with a cracked spine and dog-eared pages. "Actually, I thought you might need this more than I do right now," I said, handing Barb my copy of The Shining.

Her eyes lit up as she took it, carefully running her fingers over the cover. "No way. I’ve been wanting to read this forever."

"Well, now you’ve got no excuse. It’s a classic. Just don’t read it alone at night unless you want to start hearing creepy voices in your house."

Barb laughed, flipping through the pages. "Thanks, (Y/n). This is awesome. I’ll take good care of it, promise." She looked up at me, her expression softening. "This one your favorite? "

"It's my comfort book, honestly"

"The Shining is your comfort book?".

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it. Besides, no matter how bad my day is going, everyone in that book is having a much worse, more horrible day."

She laughed and looked at me with a smile extending far beyond her eyes. "But seriously, why do you always have the best recommendations? Like, do you just spend all your time reading?"

"I wouldn’t say all my time," I joked, leaning back and shrugging. "But books don’t talk back or ditch you for better plans. So they’ve got that going for them."

Barb chuckled, but her smile faltered slightly, and she hesitated before asking, "Speaking of people ditching... can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to."

I glanced at her, curious. "Shoot."

"What happened with you and Steve? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking. You two seemed really close back then"

I froze for a moment, caught off guard by the question. It wasn’t exactly something I loved to think about, let alone talk about. Barb’s expression wasn’t nosy or judgmental- just genuinely curious. I hesitated for a moment, debating whether to say anything. But Barb was easy to talk to, and I felt like I could trust her.

"It’s... complicated," I said, exhaling sharply. "Before his, you know, 'coronation', King Steve and I were best friends. We practically grew up together. You stick with someone throughout middle school and still want to hang out? That's true friendship, right there."

She nodded like she related to what I was saying. "High School came and he changed. He wanted to hang out less, which was fine with me, you know? People change and everything," I paused for a second.

"It got bad only after Tommy and Carol started hanging out with him. He became this mean jerk, this person I could barely recognize. And I never got along with Tommy or Carol from the beginning, he knew that from the million times I have told him that I hate their guts. Hell, I've directly said it to Tommy and Carol. I just... I guess you could say we both grew up and became distant or whatever, but the fact is, he's just a colossal asshole now.

Barb frowned, clutching the book tighter. "That sucks. I’m sorry."

I shrugged, trying to play it off. "It’s whatever. We’re not kids anymore, and I guess we just outgrew each other. Besides, I’m not exactly missing out on this." I gestured toward the house, where someone let out an ear-piercing whoop, followed by the unmistakable sound of something breaking.

Barb laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, I don’t think either of us belong here."

"Hey, misery loves company, right?" I teased, bumping her shoulder lightly.

She smiled, a little more at ease now, and held up the book. "Thanks for this. I mean it."

"Don’t mention it," I said, standing up and brushing off my jeans. "Enjoy the book- and maybe steer clear of the creepy twins in the hallway."

Barb laughed again as I started to head back to my car.

"You sure you don't need a lift? Your house isn't too far, I don't mind."

"Really, it's ok, (Y/n). I'll just go whenever Nancy leaves."

"It's almost midnight, Barb, you sure?"

"I am. I really am."

[tawneybel]

Note: Happy belated Pride! Some favorite LGBTQ horror characters. And a reminder I don’t tolerate homophobia, biphobia, transphobia, etc. on my blogs. As a cis woman with PCOS, I sure as hell do not support transmisogyny.

This blog might be primarily reader inserts, but sometimes I just like to discuss miscellaneous characters. Also, reporting hateful posts here and on Twitter is just depressing.

1. Amazon Eve from American Horror Story: Freak Show  

This and Coven are my favorite seasons, but it’s like Puella Magi where I can’t rewatch because Freak Show made me sad. I love Eve’s maternal attitude and zero tolerance for BS. 

2. the Chemist from American Horror Story: Red Tide 

I like psychedelic drug-themed horror (see Mandy and Brain Damage), but I haven’t watched much evil pharmacology so the first half of Double Feature was interesting.

3-4. Miss Spink and Miss Forcible from Coraline 

The fact they’re an item completely flew over tiny Tawney’s head when she read the book. My family watches British mysteries, so I grew up with quirky old ladies and love seeing them in horror/fantasy. 

5. Matthew Brown from Hannibal

Yeah, there’s Will and Hannibal’s dynamic, but what about the orderly’s crush on the former? 

6. Dani Moonstar from The New Mutants 

The movie did have its flaws. Dani and Rahne’s relationship wasn’t one of them. I recently started reading X-Men comics and it’s a shame they aren’t a couple on-page. 

7. Herbert West from Re-Animator

Another mad scientist! This time, one with a huge crush on his roomie! The only person he’s nice to! 

8. Robin Buckley from Stranger Things

I like that she and Steve remained friends. Even if her first stated crush was on a schoolmate who sings like a Muppet in labor. 

9. Danny Mahealani from Teen Wolf

There’s actually a fair amount of gay/bisexual guys on the show. Stiles is implied to be bi, Jackson comes out in season six, Ethan is there, Brett dances with girls and boys, Corey/Mason is my (canon M/M) OTP… Danny was there from the beginning, though. 

10. Raúl Cocolotl from Wendell & Wild

Good punk representation for a kids’ (PG-13) movie. He and Kat are both punks, yet their attitudes are different.

[saikokirakira]

Part 2 of 2: Pagtingin (Feelings) [Steve Harrington x Reader]

a/n: hello. it me. i definitely did not forget to post part two. if you would believe it, i was actually getting sick every week the past month because of the insane hours and workload of my new job. so, umm, probably not lasting long there... i wanna be pretty again and lose all the stress hives all over my body.

summary: based on this blurb on a hanahaki au/flayed!reader

word count: 12k words (big boi over here; i definitely bullied our girl throughout this entire chapter)

warning: barely proofread, only edited twice; no use of y/n; steve is an oblivious himbo (but i'll excuse it because he was the ultimate bbg in s3); ANGST TRAIN, hurt no comfort; moms of hawkins summer '85 (i have 911 on standby); billy "walking red flag" hargrove; unrequited feelings / pining; minor violence; body horror (it's hanahaki, what'd you expect?); writer's torture of a self-insert character; stranger things season 3 canon, but Alexei lives fyuck canon actually; metal goodboi cameo

You despised summer. You didn’t used to hate summer, but working in the summer heat when your recently recurring childhood asthma gets triggered by intense heat wasn’t the best option for you. While you couldn’t pass off as a lifeguard at the Hawkins Community Pool, your neighbour and acquaintance, Heather Holloway, pulled some strings to have you manning the snack bar.

It wasn’t ideal, but it certainly opened up the opportunity to listen in to a lot of gossip all around town. Not your favourite pastime, yet Heather enjoyed the very juicy ones, something you noticed she most likely inherited from her father, the chief editor for the town’s paper. Every time her shift ended, so did yours and either you share interesting stories of the day while you drive home or to the newly opened Starcourt Mall.

“Ew, those women are either married or divorced,” your nose wrinkled in disgust at Heather’s favourite gossip topic, Hawkins group of moms. Specifically, their scheduled visits to the pool whenever Billy Hargrove would be on duty as lifeguard.

“He likes the attention, I guess,” Heather shrugged, “and the moms get to ogle eye candy.”

“Still a minor, Heather.”

“Uh-uh, he turned 18 a few months back,” Heather argued, though the distaste was apparent on her face. “The term is barely legal.” Then she suddenly giggled. “I’m still calling the police when they make a direct move,” she half-joked. “I know they call me a bitch behind my back.”

“You’re a menace.”

“And you’re a sissy,” Heather shot back. “When are you going to ask Steve Harrington ou— JESUS!” She clung at the grab handle when your foot landed too much on the gas pedal. “No need to take me with you to hell just because you can’t get a date.” Then with a cheeky grin, she added, “I heard Steve can’t get a date either, and he talks up anyone at that ice cream place.”

You slammed the brakes. “That’s it!” you exclaimed. “You’re walking the rest of the way to Starcourt!” The only reply you had was Heather’s maniacal giggles at getting you so riled up.

You and Heather parted ways when you arrived at Starcourt after telling you that she’d be getting a ride home with her date. You waved her off and headed to Scoop’s Ahoy. A group of girls were giggling as they were leaving when you got there. You also noticed the whiteboard that Robin, Steve’s co-worker, held up, adding another tally on the “You suck” scoreboard.

“See what I have to deal with?” Steve immediately ranted, jerking a finger at Robin’s direction. “If you worked with me, I don’t have to be subjected with workplace abuse.”

You and Robin snorted in sync. “You poor baby,” you cooed teasingly while pinching Steve’s cheek. “How can I ever live without the longer shifts, ridiculous uniform, and being your wingman?” You earned another laugh from Robin while Steve scoffed before shooting you a pout.

“Well, you certainly miss me since you constantly visit as soon as your shift ends,” Steve shot back.

“Sure, I’m definitely not here as Heather’s chauffer to her movie date,” you said, “or just hanging out at the comic book store.”

“You want me to come wi—?”

“Bye, Robin!” you ignored his offer yet still blowing Steve a raspberry to which he rolled his eyes at. Exiting the ice cream shop, you made you way to the pharmacy first before the comic book store. It was mostly empty when you got there, so it was a breeze in getting your prescription inhaler.

It’s been forever since you had asthma, the last one during your elementary days. Your wheezing fits had only come back since that occurrence in those tunnels that you still see in your nightmares. However, after the countless tests and screening from military scientists, they cleared it to just “your body shifting from all the trauma.”

You’d think after opening gates to other dimensions with monsters, they’d be able to create a cure for asthma.

The thought was highly amusing to you that you almost missed the fiery redhead that just entered the pharmacy. Your eyes watched Max Mayfield carefully as she walked through the aisles with her head low, trying to be inconspicuous. Grabbing your bag of prescription, you slowly followed where Max wandered off, which happened to be a shelf of bandages.

You almost let it go, knowing that her skateboard hobby always led her to a number of scrapes and bruises. But when she reached for the bandage wrap on the high shelf, her shirt sleeve revealed a hand-shaped mark wrapped around her pale wrist. Trying to be nonchalant as possible, you approached her and grabbed the bandage for her, ignoring how Max quickly put her arm down and tugged at her sleeve.

“Skateboarding mishap again, red?”

Max’s signature cocky smirk covered the surprise on her face. “It’s one of my better falls,” she said. Then her eyes wandered to the prescription bag in my hand. “Still have those? They said you’d be better in a couple of weeks since the incident.”

“Well, I didn’t, so here I am,” you shrugged. “Hey, listen, I’m heading out to the comic book store if you want to tag along. My treat.”

Once you were at the community pool. Though you resorted to buying your carefully as she skimmed through the new arrival stack. You didn’t really have anything worth buying since most of the comics you read are from Dustin’s collection that he recommends and lends to you every other week. Sometimes you get the appeal, sometimes you didn’t. Still, it was a great way to pass the time when things are slow from working the snack bar at the comic book store if you want to tag along. My treat.”

Maybe you should’ve offered to buy Max a cone from Scoops Ahoy instead.

“You got any good recommendations?” you randomly asked the guy who just walked in. You seem to have caught him off-guard, the look of surprise that you were talking to him. “Munson, right?”

“Yeah, Eddie,” he said after a brief pause. “Didn’t think you’d be the type to read comics.”

You thought so too. But you also didn’t think that monsters that live in an alternate dimension exist.

You shrugged. “I read almost anything to pass the time,” you said. “Henderson lends me a lot of X-men.”

Eddie was about to reply when Max approached you with two Wonder Woman comics. “I can pay for the other one,” she offered.

You scoffed lightly and ruffled the top of her head. “Don’t be ridiculous,” you said. “Didn’t I say it was my treat?” Before she could argue, you snatched both copies from her hand and headed to the counter with her trailing behind you. “See you around, Munson.”

You and Max wandered aimlessly around the mall. You offered to go watch whatever movie was in the cinema, but Max turned you down, saying that she had plans with the party later that week once their campaign planning was through. After you ran out of things to do, you offered to drive her home, which she sheepishly accepted.

Before you could even pull out the parking area, Max said, “I know you saw the bruise. You didn’t have to do all that to make me feel better.”

A surprised smile tugged at your lips, impressed on how quickly she caught up on your intentions. “I don’t really have any sisters to dote on,” you said, “so it isn’t entirely on pity. I know you can stand up for yourself, red.” You continued, “But promise me one thing?”

Max nodded.

“You tell me when anything gets too much, okay?” You held her hand to show your support. “I’m always going to be here for you.” Trying to lighten up the mood, you added, “Billy is a prick anyway.” Then you pulled the car into drive.

“He has it worse than me.”

You tried to hold in your composure, but you couldn’t help your eyebrows rising up at the unexpected information. You always suspected something going on with Billy. No one suddenly becomes an asshole overnight. That you knew from being friends for a long time with Steve. Aside from the horrible friends he used to have, Steve grew up with his parents barely around, and even if they were, his father was always either hard on him or emotionally absent.

“Well, it doesn’t give him the right to take it out on you.”

“I know.”

Later that week, you were at your usual spot at the snack booth. The heat was especially brutal that day at it almost felt that your lungs were constricting every time you tried to breathe out. Not even ice water seemed to help, and when the thin clouds cleared, the blaring sunlight only made it worse, even though you were under the shade of the booth.

“Hey, watch the stand for me?” you said to your co-worker who mostly just tried to look busy by restacking cans of soda and rearranging the chips as a way to avoid kids yelling out their orders. He sighed but nodded, getting up to man the counter. On your way out of the booth, you pulled out your inhaler out of your backpack and staggered into the searing sunlight to make your way to Heather.

As you took a blip of your inhaler, you didn’t notice the person near you and collided into them, sending your inhaler flying. “Shit,” you muttered, picking up the plastic case. “Sorry about that.” You looked up and paled upon the realisation that you bumped into Billy Hargrove.

Billy didn’t seem to mind and just grunted before brushing past you. If anything, he looked as disoriented as you, dishevelled and profusely sweating. He had an obvious stumble to his step on his way to the locker room to what you assumed was to get ready for his shift.

You had half a mind to approach him when you heard “Hey! No dunking, Curtis!” from the pool area. You were suddenly reminded of your current task and shrugged off the Billy’s concerning state. For all you know, he was still probably drunk from whatever party he was at last night. It was summer break after all.

You carefully avoided being splashed near the poolside as you circled over to where Heather was stationed at the lifeguard post. Unfortunately, you almost tripped from another dizzy spell again and collided with another person. Just your luck.

“Oh, dear,” a woman this time voiced her concern. “Are you okay, hon? Maybe you should stay out of the heat.”

You steadied yourself and stared into the eyes of Karen Wheeler. “I’m okay, Mrs. Wheeler,” you wheezed. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Drink some water!” Mrs. Wheeler called out before walking off.

Finally, you were able to tell Heather that you were cutting your shift short and that you couldn’t drive her to her dad’s office as you agreed on earlier that day. She waved you off and told you to drive carefully, assuring you that she could always call her mom to pick her up later.

On your way out, you noticed Mrs. Wheeler coming out of the locker room looking distressed and teary-eyed. She didn’t seem to notice you staring at her as she made her way back to the pool area. A few moments later, Billy came out of the same room, still looking as physically uncomfortable as before.

For the past weeks of working at the pool, it was no secret that one of Billy’s favourite moms was Mrs. Wheeler. But was there really some illicit affair between them? You probably wouldn’t put it past Billy, but the woman had three kids, for goodness’ sakes. You made a mental note to ask Heather what she knew about it tomorrow.

After a gruelling half hour drive while cranking your A/C up to full blast, you finally got home. You barely got a mouthful of ice water when your door rang. You wondered who it could be when the neighbours knew that you and your parents were usually at work during the entire day.

“Hey, can you drive us to Starcourt?”

You stared into the wild grins of El and Max, standing excitedly on your doorstep. Fifteen minutes later, you were back in your car, playing chauffeur for the two girls giggling from the backseat of your car.

“I’m telling you, El, boyfriends lie,” Max insisted. She poked you. “Tell her.”

You chuckled dismissively at their tween antics. “I wouldn’t know.”

Both El and Max paused and focused their attention on you.

“You haven’t dated anyone?”

“I’ve been on dates,” you clarified, “but I never really dated anyone.”

“Why?” El asked. It was more inquisitive than mocking or accusatory. She was very curious, that one.

“Because she has the biggest crush on Steve.”

“Oh, my God!” you exclaimed. “Does everyone just know about that?”

“Well, anyone with eyes, yeah,” Max said, rolling her eyes for good measure. “The only reason why he hasn’t caught up is because boys are dumb.”

That made you laugh out loud despite the discomfort in your ribs.

When you arrived at the mall, you expected to have them run off to who knows where while you hung out at the waiting area, taking advantage of the air conditioning, but those two dragged you to every clothing outlet at the mall. You tried to not exert yourself, but it was hard not to match their energy when they were clearly having so much fun. It was even so endearing to see El emerging from her shell, trying out outfits that she genuinely liked and not those lumberjack fits that Chief Hopper had her on all the time.

By the third store, you insisted to sit that one out and merely watch them try on a bunch of different hats. You giggled at them posing at the mirror as if they were at a fashion show. However, you only had a moment of peace before Max approached you with a sundress that looked way too close to your size.

“No,” you stood your ground.

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes, then we’re going to Scoops Ahoy to get cones after this.”

“Ask Steve out on a date,” El urged, smiling encouragingly.

“What happened to ‘boys are dumb?’” you said, raising your brow.

“He’s not going to ask you out first, so you will do it for him!” Max said. She and El both grabbed each of your arm and pulled you to your feet and into the dressing room then tossing in the dress and pulling the curtain shut.

You stared at yourself in the mirror and the dress you held in front of you. You hated to admit it, but it was a pretty dress. Even if you couldn’t score a date with Steve, at least you had a great addition to your wardrobe. With that positive thought in mind, you pulled your shirt over your head and hung it on one of the clothing hooks.

You carefully pulled down the zipper on the dress when you noticed something odd on your reflection. Peering closer on the mirror, you stared at your ribs, noticing the almost black veins that almost seemed to be moving underneath the skin. What the…

“Are you done?!” Max called out from behind the curtain.

You snapped out of it and quickly pulled on the dress. All your initial worries faded once you saw yourself in the mirror. For good measure, you pulled your hair out of your scrunchie and let your tresses fall out in waves over your shoulder.

“Wow,” El and Max chorused.

You didn’t even notice them pulling the curtain open.

When you made your way to Scoops Ahoy, Max and El apparently had already made plans that you don’t come in with them. “Let it be a surprise,” Max had said. It was almost ridiculous that you were letting 14-year-olds dictate you on how to get a date from your crush.

“Okay, here you go, you got a strawberry and then a vanilla with sprinkles, extra whipped cream.” Steve paused and looked at the two girls suspiciously, especially at El. “Wait a second,” he thought out loud, “are you even supposed to be here?”

The two girls giggled, and El said, “A pretty girl drove us here.”

The words ‘pretty’ and ‘girl’ caught Steve’s attention. Predictable. “Yeah?” he grinned, leaning forward as if asking for more details. “She still with you?”

“You know her, silly,” Max giggled before running off with El. On their way out, they both flashed you a thumbs up and mouthed, “good luck.”

You stepped inside Scoops Ahoy with a newfound confidence. It was definitely the dress, and you hope it paid off. When Steve caught sight of you, his eyes brightened up and flashed you his charming smile.

“Hey, stranger,” Steve greeted. “I see the girls made you their babysitter and chauffer.”

You tried not to let your smile falter when you didn’t get the reaction you hoped. You laughed, trying not to give off the fact that your confidence was quickly crumbling. “Yeah,” you said, “my shift ended early at the pool.”

“That’s great!” Steve cheered. “Listen, Dustin just caught Russians on his new radio thing, and we’re trying to translate it. Spy shit and all.”

You blinked. “Dustin’s back?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded animatedly, “he’s at back with Robin translating the tape. Well, mostly Robin. Didn’t even know she’s amazing at languages.” He continued, keeping his excited energy, “She already knocked down a couple phrases. Isn’t that cool?”

Then it clicked.

Steve liked Robin.

Too late again.

“Listen, we can use your help because there’s this music at the end that I couldn’t remember where it came from,” Steve said. “Robin and Dustin say it’s stupid, but you can back me—”

“Um,” you breathed out. You cleared your throat, wondering why you started to get out of breath again. “I still have to drive the girls home before dark,” you said, gently turning him down.

“Oh.”

“Um, call me if you find something cool?” You didn’t wait for him to reply and turned your back on him. As soon as you left Scoops Ahoy, you pulled your inhaler out your pocket and took a blip, but it seemed to only make your lungs angrier and cramp even more.

As agreed upon earlier, you found the girls at the main doors of the mall, but they were in a heated conversation with Mike and the rest of his party. You sighed and quickly approached them before it turned into a full argument.

“I dump your ass!” El declared, making you stop in your steps. Lucas and Max were flabbergasted at the outburst, except Max looked somewhat proud. Mike just looked lost and was clearly at a loss for words. Will just looked uncomfortable enough to be witnessing the entire thing.

“Okay, that’s enough,” you interfered. “We’re leaving, come on.” You looked at Will who seemed to be the most aware among the boys at the moment. “You guys need a ride?”

He shook his head.

“You take care, okay?”

Will nodded.

The walk to your car between you and the girls was quiet. Though Max decided to break the silence when you pulled out of the mall compound. “What happened?” she asked.

You simply shrugged, ignoring the burning in your ribs from the simple motion. “Boys are dumb.” Then the car ride was silent again.

Later that evening, you laid in your bathtub in cold water, finally relaxing when you can breathe easily again. The summer heat fatigue really got you today, you thought. Suddenly remembering what you saw in the fitting room, you looked at your ribs again and was relieved when all you saw was nothing but your usual skin.

You were pulled back to your thoughts and remembered the beautiful sundress that was now laid discarded on the bathroom floor. You groaned at the memory of what just occurred this afternoon. You sighed and slid down to submerge the rest of yourself in the almost freezing water, leaving all your worries for the few seconds you had underwater.

Don’t be afraid. It’ll be over soon. Just stay… very… still.

You were scared. You couldn’t open your eyes, and the water suddenly felt too thick. The searing pain that was becoming too familiar in your lungs felt like it was begin to crawl out of your chest and into your throat.

But it was all gone in a split second.

Panicked and scared out of your wits, you immediately crawled your way out of the bathtub, not caring if you were curled up naked on the bathroom floor. You reached for the first thing you could grab to cover yourself, until you realised that it was still the same damn sundress. Suddenly, all the air just left your body, and you were starting to wonder if it was still an asthma attack.

You hoisted yourself up on the sink, both coughing and wheezing, trying to do everything you can to get yourself some oxygen.

“Sweetie? What’s going on?” the familiar voice of your mom came muffled from the other side of the door. When you replied with nothing but aggressive and painful coughs, the knocking became incessant, and her calls turned to worried cries. “Open the door!”

The same sensation of something crawling out of your throat came back. This time, you were more aware than your paralyzed state a few minutes ago. You stuck your fingers in your throat, feeling for any obstruction.

And you did.

With one forced cough, you were able to pinch out something smooth but foreign. You yanked it out, clenched it in your fist, and spat whatever fluid it brought out. You were initially worried that it was blood, but as you looked at the white ceramic of the bathroom sink, it was black.

When the bathroom door burst open, you quickly opened the faucet, flushing down whatever it was. Your mom rushed over to you and covered your hunched figure with a bath towel before pulling open the medicine cabinet behind the mirror to fish out your emergency inhaler.

“Come on, sweetie,” she carefully urged the inhaler in my mouth, pressing down to dispense a dose, but you could barely bury it down. “Let’s go to your room. You’re freezing.” She led me step by step to my bed and laid me under the covers, but the warm blankets only made me feel worse. “Your dad is coming with the nebulizer. Don’t worry. Just careful breaths.”

You didn’t remember how long it took for you to fall asleep that night, but you woke up the next day to your mom entering your room, already dressed in her office attire. She must’ve seen the panic on your face when you realised that it was way past your alarm.

“I called you in sick at the community pool,” your mom said. “Your dad will be picking you up after work to bring you to the hospital. In the meantime, just rest, okay?” She pressed a kiss on your forehead before she left the room, and you were alone again.

Then you felt the soft thing that you had in your fist the entire night. You raised your hand and held the foreign object over your head.

A black petal.

Panic bubbled up at the base of your spine, and you wasted no time in getting out of bed and getting dressed. You needed to tell Chief Hopper or Mrs. Byers. Or even just any one in Mike’s party.

And Steve.

Suddenly, it hit you. Dustin would still be around Steve decoding whatever Russian code they were on. The kid can easily call a code red for your situation. You grabbed your keys with the intent of going to Starcourt.

Just as you locked the front door, Max and El came rushing in their bikes, looking as alarmed as you are. They rushed to you, especially El who gave you a pleading look.

“It’s Billy.”

~

“As much as I appreciate you calling a grown up to investigate, this seems highly unnecessary.”

You were clearly uncomfortable as you turned the corner to Cherry Lane. You already gave them an earful when they admitted that they were spying on random people during their sleepover last night. Personally, you didn’t think that Heather would suddenly go for Billy when she just went on a date with someone else the other week, but maybe Billy was just that convincing.

“But the screams,” El reasoned.

“When Billy is alone with a girl, they make, like, really crazy noises,” Max argued, making you laugh at her words. Case in point.

“That’s surprising,” you noted. “I assumed that because he’s such an asshole he doesn’t…” you trailed off when you caught El’s clueless look from your rear-view mirror. “Never mind.”

“They scream?” El voiced out her confusion.

“Yeah, but, like… happy screams.” Then Max turned to you. “Oh, just that house right there.”

Your laughter came out in breathless snorts at this point. You pulled the car in park around the curb. “Okay, that’s enough,” you interrupted. “You don’t need to know about that yet, El.” You watched the house and hummed in thought. “His car’s not there. This’ll be easy.”

The three of you went inside the house and headed to his room. You knew that their family was very far from a loving one, but you tried to wrack your head for a reason as to why Billy’s bedroom door had a hinge lock from the outside. You barely had any thoughts about that little detail before Max pushed the door open.

“Why do I get the feeling we’re gonna find all sorts of wrong here?” Max said.

“Well, his tastes in music aren’t half bad,” you commented, flicking through his stack of cassette tapes by his stereo. You pulled open his bedside drawer and laughed at its contents. “Jackpot.”

Max rushed over to peek, only to see his collection of ‘printed ladies.’ “Ugh!” she exclaimed. “Gag me with a spoon.”

Then we heard El calling us from the bathroom.

We followed her to see empty ice packets around his tub. The unsettling feeling crept in again as you remember that you were also trying to keep yourself cold last night. But you weren’t the only one who was unsettled.

El, who was breathing heavily, stared off into the corner, and when Max and you followed her line of sight, there it was. Blood. You carefully opened the trash bin and pulled out a utility bag from Hawkins’ Community Pool.

“Let’s go.” You didn’t waste any time leaving the house and getting into the car.

Despite the darkening skies and thunder rumbling, you got there in record time. You ran to see a co-worker of your closing the pool area. Protocol. But he definitely wasn’t pleased to see you.

“Didn’t you call in sick?” he said, sounding annoyed. “You’re the second person to bail today.”

“Heather didn’t come in?” Max asked.

“Obviously. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be doing thi— Hey!”

The three of us ran back to the car to figure out what to do next.

“We can go back to my place,” you suggested. “Wait out until Heather comes home next door.” Then you remembered. “Shit,” you cursed, turning on your car before the girls agreed. “My dad is supposed to pick me up for a doctor’s appointment.”

Luckily, your dad wasn’t home yet when you got back. Probably due to the storm. However, the girls already had their own plans in mind when they walked over next door to the Holloway’s.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you hissed, jogging over to them. “Don’t go running off without me.” You looked at the now open front door. “Did you just unlock the door? This is trespassing!”

“She’s inside,” El whispered. She and Max entered the house, and you had no choice but to follow.

The three of you carefully treaded towards the voices in the dining room. There you found Billy with Mr. and Mrs. Holloway chatting away. The sight of your three by the hallway halted their conversation.

“Um, hey, Janet, Tom,” you greeted. “We tried to knock, but you probably didn’t hear us over the storm.”

“What on earth are you doing here?” Billy cut in, his eyes trained on Max and El.

“Where is she, Billy?” you asked firmly, staring straight into his eyes.

“Where is who?” Billy smiled innocently, but it didn’t give you any ease.

“Well, they’re a little burnt! I’m sorry.” Heather walked in from the kitchen, carrying a tray of cookies. “Oh, hey, girl! Is your shift over?”

“Heather!” Billy called. “This is my sister, Maxine.” He gestured to Max before his eyes landed on El. “I’m sorry. I did not quite catch your name.”

“El.” Eleven responded with her eyes pointedly trained on Billy.

“El,” Billy echoed, his polite smile turning into something menacing.

It definitely unnerved the three of us. Your hands held onto their shoulders and pulled them behind your back, leaving you to face Billy. “You guys weren’t at work, so we got worried,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Heather wasn't feeling so hot today, so we thought we'd take the day off to nurse her back to health.” Billy turned to Heather. “But you’re feeling just fine right now. Aren’t you, Heather?”

“I’m feeling so much better,” Heather smiled, but there was something about it that didn’t seem right to you.

Max and El tugged at your hand. You looked at them to see them silently pleading at you with their eyes. You gave a brief shake of your head before turning back to Billy. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” you said carefully. “I’ll take the girls home.”

“Thank you for looking out for my sister and her… friend.”

You made sure that the girls walked ahead of you, and right before you passed the front door, Billy pulled you to him. You barely could get a noise out as he pressed his hand over your ribs.

“You’re one of us,” Billy whispered before he shoved you out and shut the door.

It all happened in a split second that the girls didn’t even notice the exchange. The fear stabbed you deep in the gut that you basically dragged them back to your house, forcing them not to look back. Only when you got inside your house that the tension released from your body but only just.

“I’m taking you guys home, and tomorrow, we’re meeting up with the party, okay?”

“You’re not going anywhere, young lady.”

You winced and found your dad staring you down with his arms crossed.

Damn it.

~

“As soon as we’re done here, you’re grounded for a week.”

You groaned and held back the urge to roll your eyes. You were in the hospital waiting area for your family physician, but because there were a handful of minor accidents because of the storm, the wait was a bit long, especially when you were not priority. It was fine during the first ten minutes, but after half an hour, you were starting to get cranky.

“I’m going to the restroom.”

Your dad made a move to get up, but you stopped him. “There’s literally a storm out there, and you drove me here,” you pointed out. “Where else can I go?”

Your dad just scoffed but leaned back in his seat, waving you off. “Bring me back a coffee then,” he said.

You walked down the hallway but turned to the payphones instead of the restrooms. You dialled in the number you were so familiar with and hoped that he’d be home by this time.

“Hello?” Steve’s voice rang through the speaker, sending relief through your body.

“Pick me up at the hospital,” you said.

“Wait, what?”

“Oh, and do it in half an hour.”

“There’s literally a storm outsi—”

“I’m also staying at your place tonight.”

“Hey! What is going—”

“Thanks, Harrington.”

Steve arrived at the hospital in twenty, still dressed in his sailor uniform. With your dad still busy with his coffee and a random medical pamphlet, you cocked your head to the side and sent Steve a signal where to wait while you made your escape. For the second time, you got up to your feet.

“I think I want a coffee actually,” you said. “Be right back, daddy.”

Your dad hummed, not even lifting his eyes from the pamphlet.

For a split second, your heart seized at the sight of your clueless father. You wanted to tell him and mom about the monsters and how they were this close to taking you, but they were better off not knowing. It wasn’t worth risking their lives when it could be just you.

With a heavy heart, you kissed the top of his head and walked down the hallway, heading for the exit and into Steve Harrington’s getaway car.

“Okay, but what the hell is going on?” Steve asked, pulling the car in drive.

You didn’t answer and just hugged your knees to your chest while crying silently. You’re one of us. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to level your breathing, which now felt like such a laborious task. Now that you knew the truth, it was almost like you could feel it all inside you. Taking every piece of you.

You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts by a warm hand clasping yours. You raised your head and looked at Steve, who kept his eyes on the road, but continued to squeeze your hand. You managed to stop crying and thread your fingers through his and bask in his warmth.

You knew it was just temporary. You knew who he really liked. And as if the universe was aware of your feelings, they decided to cut the moment short by sending your chest squeezing and blocking your airways again. You dropped Steve’s hand and clutched at your chest as you exploded into another coughing fit.

Steve panicked and quickly glanced between you and the road. “What’s happening?” he asked frantically. “Should I take you back to the hospital?”

You violently shook your head. “N-no,” you managed to wheeze out. “Dr-drive.”

“Where’s your inhaler?” Steve asked to which you left unanswered.

Finally, you managed to cough out a chunk of something, freeing your airways. You quickly shoved it in your pockets without checking before Steve noticed it. You exhaled in relief and leaned back in his seat.

“It didn’t use to be that bad,” Steve pointed out.

“Yeah.”

“Was that why you were at the hospital?”

“Mm.”

“We should go back.”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re near your place anyway.”

By the time you got to Steve’s house, he rushed to his parents’ room to find you something to wear from his mom’s closet. “Go take a shower and warm up!” he called out from the second floor.

You dragged your feet into the downstairs bathroom and rinsed your mouth. As you spat out the water, swirls of blood and black goo circled around before disappearing down the drain. You pulled out the clump that you hid in your pocket and teared up at the sight of a fully formed flower.

It was cruel that something as hauntingly beautiful as this was killing you from the inside.

When you flipped the flower over, you noticed thin tendrils from where the stem should be. You were horrified that the tendrils were actually moving like tiny tentacles. It reminded you of that day when you were in the tunnels under the pumpkin farm.

Without any more thought, you dropped the flower in the sink. Remembering that they were susceptible to heat, you immediately turned on the faucet to its hottest setting. As the water hit the flower, your lungs were suddenly set on fire.

Out of instinct, you turned the faucet off, relieved that the flower immediately dried out and broke off into ashy flakes. The burning stopped as well but still lingered under your skin. Almost tripping over your own feet, you staggered over to the shower, stripping yourself of your drenched clothes and turning on the water to its coldest setting, and only then did you find relief.

You’re one of us.

It took over almost half an hour to compose yourself and figure out what to do from here on out. You put one of the fluffy robes in the bathroom and headed out to the living room where Steve was already lounging on one of the sofas, shirtless but with a towel hanging over his neck. He only seemed to notice your presence when the sofa dipped beside him under your weight.

“You okay?” Steve asked when you rested your head on his shoulder, not minding that his hair was still dripping wet. “Jesus, you’re freezing.” He moved to grab the throw blanket and pulled it over both of you then rubbed his hands on your arms to warm you up.

Meanwhile, you wrapped your hands around his waist and just closed your eyes at the sound of his heartbeat. You were mad that his was steady when you couldn’t even control the fast drumming of your own heart whenever you were near him. Still, you held Steve as if you were afraid to let go, as if he was your only reminder that you were still you. But why did it hurt, even physically, so much to hold on?

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Steve whispered, stroking the back of your head. “I don’t think we held each other like this since middle school,” he chuckled to himself at the memory. “When Vicki Carmichael took stole your partner for the Snow Ball and kissed him in front of everyone? You slept over and cried in my bed, telling me you hated her for it and me for going with Tammy Thompson.”

You wracked your head trying to remember what Steve was talking about. Maybe because it was a long day, but you couldn’t remember him holding you like this in middle school. Still, it must have been a beautiful memory if even Steve remembered it.

Sometimes it felt like you were the only one holding on so tightly in this relationship with him.

“Don’t you remember?”

You just hummed and snuggled closer to Steve.

“Okay, how about when Lewenski and I got into a fight because his girlfriend tripped you up and you skinned your knee pretty bad?”

This one, you remembered. “Your dad grounded you for a month, and you got benched for two games,” you chuckled softly.

“And you still cheered for me in the sidelines,” Steve said, sounding relieved that you were finally talking. After while a long pause, he said, “What happened? You used to tell me everything.” He continued, “I know I joke about it a lot, but I was really worried when you didn’t sign up with me at the mall. And you being sick all the time now?”

“Steve, just drop it,” you said, almost in a plea. “We’re okay. You never have to worry about me.”

Steve scoffed playfully. “That’s never going to happen,” he argued. “I’m always gonna worry about you. You don’t even notice how much trouble you get yourself into without realising.”

You tried not to think about it, but for the rest of that night in Steve’s arms, you almost felt like the vines were moving inside you, growing and taking up what was left of you that you haven’t already given to Steve.

~

“So, basically you’re a fugitive now?”

You chuckled and tiredly patted Dustin’s back. “Man, I missed you, kid,” you said. “And to answer your question, technically yes. I’m facing a lifetime of being grounded if I’m caught.”

“Let me get this straight,” Dustin began, his eyes trained on your plain black shirt that obviously belonged to Steve, “Steve snuck you out of the hospital, and you stayed in his house the entire night?” He leaned close to you. “And nothing happened?”

“Jesus, Dustin,” you wrinkled your nose at him. “People serve food here.” You gestured at the small cup of ice cream you were eating as breakfast slash brunch. Though you were wallowing your sorrows in cold, cold sweets, it did make you feel like a kid again.

“Steve is so stupid sometimes it amazes me,” Dustin thought out loud.

“I’m surprised you caught on. Seems like everyone in the world knows except him.”

“That’s because I’m me,” Dustin grinned proudly. “I bet the rest of the party doesn’t even know.”

“Who doesn’t know?” Steve entered the backroom with Robin in tow.

“Probably that you’re a dingus,” Robin snickered. Then her eyes trailed over to you. “So, we have another addition to the team,” she pointed out. “Who’s bringing her up to speed?”

“Dustin,” Steve said the same time that Dustin also said, “Me.”

Of course, it was Dustin.

While Dustin explained to you that the Russian military was most likely running a secret base right in the Starcourt Mall, you worried about El and Max, especially with not-Billy on the loose. Though they probably were already with the rest of the party right now and alerted Chief Hopper and Mrs. Byers. There was absolutely nothing to worry about.

Right?

“Got it?” Dustin finally said before narrowing his eyes at me. “Were you just zoning out the entire time?”

You snorted. “What do you take me for?”

“Fine, what did I just say?”

“Okay, I probably zoned out halfway through,” you admitted. “But your problem is pretty simple.”

Steve, Dustin, and Robin waited for you to continue.

“You just need the blueprints for the mall.”

“Why haven’t you called her the moment we were cracking the code?” Robin said, rushing outside and grabbing the tip jar. Ignoring Steve’s calls for her, she was off leaving us three at Scoops Ahoy.

~

“Touch my butt! I don’t care!”

“Can we keep it PG in here?” you frowned at the ridiculous show Steve and Dustin were putting by trying to get into the air ducts. “Just pull the boy down before someone gets hurt.”

“He can’t get hurt. He’s missing bones like Gumbo.”

“Like what?” you tilted your head.

“He means Gumby,” Dustin corrected, grabbing hold of Steve’s shoulders as he got hoisted out of the vent, “and that’s not how cleidocranial dysplasia works, Steve. I’m missing collarbones, not nerves.”

“Whatever,” Steve said. “We just need some else who could fit in there.”

Just as Steve said those words, Robin burst in the backroom, looking like she had an epiphany for the second time today. You were beginning to think she was the reason how Steve and Dustin had gotten this far. Behind her stood Lucas’ younger sister, Erica. Ah, the epiphany.

It only took the rest of the day of convincing her. The kid knew how to play hard ball. You’d give her that. She wouldn’t take anything less than ice cream for life. Frankly, you’d do the same.

You waited until the mall closed, though Robin and Steve cleared up Scoops Ahoy a few minutes early. So far, your parents were a no show, though you assumed that they didn’t think you would be hiding in the backroom of a very crowded mall. Frankly, they probably wouldn’t even believe you that you were infected with a monster from an alternate dimension and would rather help your friends with a Russian invasion than go to the hospital.

“Free ice cream for life,” Erica smirked smugly as soon as the thick sliding doors – actually odd for a simple storage room – slid open for us.

It didn’t take much snooping to find vats of glowing neon green vats of unknown substances hidden in regular delivery boxes. Without much thought, you grabbed one and made your way to the door. “Let’s just go before someone catches us.”

Again, the universe… just hated us.

“Uhh, which one do I press, Erica?” Dustin asked, insistently pressing the “OPEN” button.

Panic began to rise among all of us as mechanical whirring buzzed between the walls. Between that and the fact that we were trapped, we definitely knew we were screwed. While all of them fussed over the buttons that were no longer working, you stepped back, feeling something prickle under your skin.

“Just open the door!” Robin cried out, echoing into someone… something different.

Open the door.

Open the door!

Open the goddamn door!

Suddenly, you were on fire. You barely noticed your screams rising over everyone else’s. You fell to the floor, convulsing in agony as flashes of different people appeared in your head as if you were them. An old lady in a hospital bed, Heather, her parents, so many people who barely even knew in Hawkins… then Billy.

It was quiet with him. You saw flashes of a beautiful blonde woman calling out to him, her face concealed in a sunhat, then the beach with sand in between your toes. There was a moment of peace and tranquillity, and like someone playing a sick joke, you were in a dark place, standing in Billy’s place in front of people who were lifelessly standing still right in front of something. Something that you didn’t recognize but was so familiar to you, inside you.

He made me do it. It’s like a shadow, like a giant shadow. Please believe me, Max.

“Billy, it’s gonna be okay,” Max’s voice echoed in his head as if it were yours.

“It’s gonna be okay,” a different voice filtered through from all the noise.

“She’s unconscious. How is her inhaler going to help?” “I’m pretty sure that’s a seizure, nerd.” “Check for a pulse, Steve.”

Your consciousness fell right back on you like a pile of bricks. Your eyes fluttered open to see Steve hovering over you with your inhaler tucked between your lips. Once your eyes locked with his caramel ones, a huge wave of relief washed over his face as he pulled you into his arms.

“Oh, my God,” Steve gasped, clutching on to you for dear life. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Get… out.”

Steve tensed and pulled away to look at you. “What?”

You weakly pulled up your – actually Steve’s shirt up to your ribs, revealing angry black veins that were now crawling over your torso. You cried out and clutched at you. “Get it out!”

“Holy sh– what the hell is that?!”

You rolled to the side and fell into a coughing fit, your back hunched over. Your nails clawed at your throat, feeling something trying to crawl itself out. Whatever happened somewhere in Hawkins pissed off the plants inside you, and you can feel them twisting and curling throughout your torso.

With much straining and the remaining oxygen in your lungs, you managed to pull out the parasite from your oesophagus. The action made Dustin and Robin gag in the corner, while Steve and Erica warily looked at the slithering vine with a fully bloomed flower you dropped on the floor, leaving a trail of blood and black goo.

“You guys, by any chance, have a lighter?” you panted, pressing your cheek against the cold metal floor for any cool relief you can take.

Silence told you no. You hoisted yourself up with much difficulty and leaned back into the crate then immediately had an idea. Albeit, a bad one. With shaky knees, you got on your feet and lifted the vat of green goo that rolled away when you dropped unconscious. You looked for the right twist to open the container when Dustin stopped you.

“What are you doing?”

“We have to kill it,” you said nonchalantly. “I mean, I could just drink this to get it over with, but I don’t want to die that quick.”

“Are you…?” Then Dustin’s eyes widened. “That day. You were… because you saved me.”

“Wait, wait, are any of you nerds explaining what’s going on?” Erica interrupted.

You sighed. “Monster,” you pointed at the vine. “Infected,” you pointed at yourself. “Must kill monster with something. Preferably fire.”

“You killed one of those before?” Robin asked.

“It was smaller last night,” you shrugged, finding the latch to open up the vat. “Hot water took care of that sucker easily.” Twisting the lid a certain way, it clicked and released. “Aha!” you exclaimed. “This is gonna hurt.” You eyed the goo apprehensively.

Then Steve snatched the lid and sealed back the vat. “There has got to be a way to do this without you in pain,” he said.

“We don’t have time, and we’re stuck here in a metal box with a monster crawling towards Erica’s sneaker!”

“Why are you yelling?!”

“I’m not yelling!” you shouted. Then you turned to Dustin with a much softer voice. “How did Will get rid of his the last time?”

“Space heaters, a lot of them,” Dustin answered. “Anything from the Upside Down hates the heat, including D’Art.”

“Well, we’re not waiting until you cough all the flowers out, so I say we dump you into a hot tub and crank the heat to full,” Steve suggested, keeping the vat out of reach. “Once we get out of here, of course.”

“Boiling her alive,” Dustin scoffed. “That’s genius, Steve.”

“Or,” Robin interrupted, “we just use the same space heaters. It worked before, so it might work again now.”

“Thank you,” you said, pointedly looking at Steve. “At least someone is trying not to kill m—” Suddenly, your lungs were set aflame as you dropped into a heap on the cold floor, convulsing in agony with your mouth open in an open scream. You briefly heard Erica speaking before ultimately passing out.

“What? You only kept one of that green acid away from us. At least the monster’s dead.”

After passing out for the second time that night, you seemed to be sleeping much longer, but when you woke up, it wasn’t much of a surprise to hear Dustin and Steve still bickering. You opened your eyes to see Steve’s legs hanging from the ceiling. Again, not a surprise.

Probably nothing else would surprise you at this point.

“Shh! Jesus Christ!” Steve hissed before disappearing entirely to the top of the elevator.

Now that spiked your curiosity.

Robin was preoccupied with Erica, and both of them didn’t even notice that you were awake. You sat up and climbed on the stacked boxes leading up to the opening on the elevator ceiling. The burning in your ribs and your shortness of your breath was easier to ignore now that you were too lightheaded to actually feel the discomfort. Still, you managed to poke your head out the opening, accidentally ending up eavesdropping.

“I heard you guys talking all night,” Dustin whispered to Steve before his eyes landed on you. He winced and shot you an apologetic look.

Steve turned and saw you by his feet, making him jump in surprise. “What are you doing up?!” he scolded. “You scared all of us last night. I thought Erica killed you.”

“Gee, your welcome!” Erica called out from inside.

“’Last night’? It’s morning?”

Dustin smiled emptily. “Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been trying to reach anyone on the radio since the mall is open. I think we’re too far down though.”

“Okay, take Dustin down with you please,” Steve said, facing the wall. “I’m gonna take a leak.”

“First of all, ew. Second, good morning,” you said, hopping back down with Dustin right behind you.

“This is one looong sleepover,” Steve called out before the sound of a stream hitting the ceiling echoed inside the elevator. “Two nights of being your personal pillow!”

“Two nights?” you muttered to yourself. “Was I with Steve the other night?” you turned to ask Dustin, who gave you a weird look.

“You stayed over his place, and he drove you to the mall, remember?”

“He did?”

“Hey!” Robin called out. “We have company.”

One fight with a Russian later, which Steve won – finally – you and the rest of the group snuck into the comms room of the secret Russian base and found out why your lungs had been reacting different once you walked further down that tunnel.

“The gate.”

You, Steve, and Dustin looked at each other in horror before turning back to the machine that was trying to pry open the gate that El had shut down last year. It was your first time seeing it, but the same dark familiarity was tugging from the deepest part of your mind. There was no reason to dwell on it, so you tugged Dustin and Steve, urging them to leave and quickly warn the others as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, leaving was harder than getting in. Guards were alerted, and all of us were sent into running. It ultimately sent us to the direction of the gate itself with Dustin almost running into the laser machine that was opening the gate if it wasn’t for you tugging the back of his shirt collar.

You didn’t like being that close to the gate. Between the soldiers yelling and Steve barking which way to run, a louder voice was whispering crystal clear voices inside your head. You surrendered to the voices for one second to try and understand what they were saying, which proved to be your mistake.

In that one second, you were teleported to an incredibly vivid memory of meeting Steve for the first time.

“Sweetie, say hi to Mrs. Harrington and Steve.”

Your hand curled into a fist on the hem of your mother’s dress. It wasn’t the first time you saw Steve Harrington. Your classmate pointed who Steve was when he passed you at the hallways of Hawkins’ Elementary. She boasted that her older sister was Steve’s “girl friend” after he kissed her during recess yesterday.

You didn’t know what any of that meant, but when you glanced at Steve Harrington, you thought he was the prettiest boy you ever seen. Steve Harrington was exactly what you imagined the princes looked like that your mother read to you at bedtime.

And now, you were at their front door because your mom worked with his mom, and Mrs. Harrington thought it would be nice to have her and you over for tea.

And Steve was still the prettiest boy you ever seen.

You were catatonic while staring up into the gate opening.

While the rest of the guards were chasing after Steve and the others, the scientists urged that the guards don’t touch you, seeing that your pupils had turned entirely black. Your exposed neck revealed raised veins that they could tell were black even under the dim, unsteady lighting in the lab.

Your blank state was finally broken when the Russians took you in a secluded room, further away from the gate. Your mind was wildly fuzzy as if you were in the middle of sinking badly in your own subconscious. You inner daze didn’t last long when the door opened again, and Steve and Robin were dragged in and also cuffed like you were.

“What happened to you there?” Steve said in a low tone. “You just froze.”

The soldier didn’t like the chit-chat and struck Steve across the face. The sound was loud enough to echo in the room that you winced upon impact. “No talking!” he spat in a thick accent. “Now, who do you work for?”

“I’m confused,” Steve said, trying to sound unphased from the hit. “Do I not talk or do I tell you who I work for?”

That earned him another hit.

~

“We have many stories of monsters from where I’m from.”

“So do we,” you groaned at the man pacing the room. “You’re not that special, dude.”

Robin and Steve were taken away over half an hour ago, mostly likely for their own interrogation. So far, on your end, this soldier has done nothing but talk your ear off about stories from where he grew up while you were strapped in an examination chair.

“I suppose you know about flowers that grow on lungs?” The surprised look on your face told him everything he needed to know. “No one knows where they come from,” he said, “… until now.” He leaned in close to you. “You are very important test subject.”

“Not for long,” you said spitefully. “I’m dying anyway.”

“Well, I suppose you will be buried in Russian soil by then,” he said, sending chills in your spine. “But now, I need to see the flowers itself.”

Your breathing quickened at the thought being sliced open.

But…

They wanted you alive enough to bring you to Russia. That meant…

“Steve!” Your eyes widened at the sight of him as they dragged him inside the room and dropped him in a heap on the floor. Your heart clenched at the blood streaked all over his mouth and his eye swollen shut. “What did you do to him?”

The soldier and the rest of the guards merely looked at you struggling from where you were restrained while Steve remained unresponsive on the floor. The soldier looked displeased at the results before him and barked out another order. Soon enough, Robin was also dragged inside the room, and similar to you, she was as distraught at the sight of him beaten up.

Then… they just left the three of you in the room alone.

“What do they want?” Robin asked. “We told them everything, and you’re the only one not strapped with us.”

You gulped. “They, uh, they know what’s wrong with me.”

That gained Steve’s attention. With much difficultly, he raised his head and slurred out, “They’re not taking you, and we’re getting out of here.”

“Right,” you snorted. “Unless you have a way of getting to those scissors and cutting yourselves free, I’m on the next flight to Russia by the end of the day.”

“Those morons. They left scissors here?” Steve scoffed.

“I think that if we move at the same time, we could get over there, and then maybe I could kick the table and knock them into your lap,” Robin said, her voice rising with desperation. “So, on the count of three, we’re gonna hop.”

You smiled as hope bubbled when they succeeded the first two swivels. But on the third, the chair legs slid, knocking them both on the floor. Robin, who had her back to you, began shaking. At first, you and Steve thought she was crying, until her quiet giggles turned into full-on laughter.

“I’m sorry,” Robin laughed, trying to contain herself, “but I just can’t believe I’m gonna die in a secret Russian base with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, while his girlfriend gets shipped off to another secret lab in Russia.”

“We’re not gonna die,” Steve huffed, “and she’s not my girlfriend, okay?”

“Gee, we’re tied up and have no hopes of escaping, and you choose to correct that?” you snarked at him.

There was a moment of quietness, mostly just to collect our wits, but Robin was the one to speak up again. She talked about Mrs. Click, our history teacher. Turns out she had been in the same class as Steve for the longest time, remembering every detail about him.

Just like you.

“Do you even remember me from that class?” Robin said, her voice lowering into a whisper. “It didn’t matter that you were an ass.”

And her next words just crushed you.

“I was still… obsessed with you.”

There was nothing else to do but watch as Steve’s eyes — well, eye — softened. In that moment, you felt like you were in someone else’s moment, just an audience. But wasn’t that what you always have been in Steve’s life?

“You know, I wish I’d known you in Click’s class,” Steve said, a fond smile growing on his lips. “Maybe instead of being here, I’d be on my way to college right now.”

Last semester, you wrote two of his history papers just so his grades would be high enough for him to play during the basketball playoffs.

“And I would have no idea that there were evil Russians beneath our feet,” Robin chuckled, “and I would be happily slinging ice cream with some other schmuck.”

“Gotta say, though, I liked being your schmuck.”

And there it was…

The burning in your lungs intensified, sending you in a painful fit of coughs. It was hard enough not to curl over because of the restraints on your chest. There was no way to claw at your throat or to grasp at your chest from the twisting pain.

You were too engrossed in trying not to choke from blood and black goo that you didn’t notice the door open. A different scientist came in, this time more sinister-looking, and leaned over you. “I knew it,” he smiled. “He feeds the flowers inside you.”

“W-wha…?” you managed to gasp out. “P-please… can’t… br-brea-eathe… In.... inhal-er.”

In the midst of the black spots tinting your vision, you barely made out a jet injector and something bright blue before you heard Steve yell out and everything went dark.

“… up. Wake up!”

You opened your eyes to see Dustin’s face. “Am I dreaming?”

“Come on! We have to go!”

You were so groggy that you followed Erica and Dustin to a hijacked mini-truck with Steve and Robin giggling along. Both their antics only heightened when we finally ascended back up to the mall. Steve couldn’t stop booping Dustin, while Robin was saying stuff about food and death.

“Did they give you something too?” Erica asked me.

“They probably took something instead,” you rasped out, feeling your throat. “They baited one out and pulled it out while I was trying not to choke to death.”

“Where is it now?” Dustin turned to me, smacking away Steve’s finger from booping his nose again.

“How the hell should I know? I was tied up!” you scowled at him.

“We just saved your asses!” Erica and Dustin chimed back at your tone.

The bickering didn’t end until you were all forced to be quiet as you hid in a cinema that was showing ‘Back to the Future.’ Once upon a time, it seemed to be a fun movie to watch with the kids, maybe even with El, but now, you could barely keep your knees from fidgeting as your eyes constantly watched between Michael J. Fox and the cinema doors for any evil Russians.

It wasn’t long when your lungs began burning again. You didn’t feel the need to cough this time, but it didn’t stop for a metallic taste bursting in your mouth. You grabbed an empty popcorn bag nearby and spat into the paper. Even under the dark theatre, you could see that it was mostly blood now.

You were out of time.

~

“Jesus, you look far worse than El.”

You shot Max a very unfriendly look. “The girl who just pulled a monster out of her leg using your mind powers?” You glanced at El who was cuddled up with Chief Hopper while Mrs. Byers attended to the open wound on her leg.

“Well, both you are bleeding out of your noses, and you are also growing monsters inside you.”

“ERICA!” you screeched while furiously wiping your nose.

“Just the facts!”

“What?!” Everyone else in the party, including the adults, chorused.

“You’re dying,” Will said as if he could still tell. He gave you a look of empathy and a little bit of familiarity. You knew he went through a similar thing last year, and it somehow made you less scared that he was here with you.

You nodded solemnly. “I don’t have much time,” you admitted. “It grows faster the closer I am to the gate… or when I feed it.”

“’Feed it’?” Max asked.

“We don’t have to talk about that,” you waved her off. At this point, you were just desperate to stay alive. All of you were so, so close. “If we close the gate, we can cut off all connections, right?”

“Theoretically,” Lucas added.

Since there was no other option but that, we all based our plan on that ‘theory.’ A man named Murray, who also got into a tiff with Erica, came in with a map of the underground Russian base from a guy named Alexei. With the goals in place, everyone began splitting off into groups.

“You’re coming with us, right?” Steve asked.

You bit your lip as you shook your head. “I’m staying with the girls,” you said. “You go with Dustin and Robin to Cerebro.” At the sight of his worried look, you added, “I’ll be okay.”

Steve shot you a scowl. “Don’t die without me.”

“Hard promise to keep,” you smirked, smacking his hand away from ruffling your already messy hair. Your fingers tangled with Steve’s, and he ended up holding your hand completely. “Don’t die first, Steven.”

Steve chuckled and was about to pull away when you tugged his hand back.

“Hey, Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“I know you and Robin…”

When you trailed off, Steve raised his brows at you, urging you to continue.

You shook your head, waving it off. “You guys just got drugged,” you reminded him. “Drive safely.”

“You say that as if I don’t have any experience from partying.”

“That isn’t comforting at the very least.” Then... you let go.

~

Turns out that it wasn’t just the gate that was triggering the growth.

When the Spider Monster burst through the glass ceiling for Starcourt Mall, the flowers in your lungs reacted the same way when Billy had grabbed you at the Holloway’s. It was one thing to lead the monster away from El, but it was another thing to be hunched in the trunk space of the Wheeler’s hatchback with said monster chasing you down the road.

“The answer to a never-ending story…”

You laughed at the song number from the radio in between coughs. “That definitely takes the sting out of dying,” you said. You can only imagine Erica’s face during this whole ordeal.

“Don’t say that.”

You looked at Steve in deadpan. You kept eye contact as you spat blood and body matter into an empty soda cup you found discarded in the car. It was a low-blow towards him, you knew that, and he didn’t deserve it.

But you were so tired, and you were so mad at yourself for always being late, for being cowardly.

So, when Jonathan turned the car to follow the Spider Monster that turned back to the mall, you immediately hopped off and went looking for El instead of going with them to set off the fireworks. Steve, as expected, put up a fight, insisting that you all stick together.

“I won’t go near it,” you reasoned. “I’m finding El and getting her out of here, while you keep it distracted.” When he looked unconvinced, you added, “The fireworks will also distract Billy. It’s going to be okay.”

“That isn’t comforting at the very least,” Steve said, making you laugh at your early words being thrown back at you.

“Hey!”

You turned to see Nancy Wheeler toss a bundle of fireworks at you. At your raised brow, she shrugged, “Just in case.”

Following a broken gate not too far from where Steve rammed Billy’s car, you found an employee’s corridor where Max and Mike passed out nearby with angry bruises on their faces. You rushed over for Max and shook her awake. Her eyes immediately shot open.

“Billy, it was Billy,” Max said, panicked. “He took El. You have to go. I’ll take care of Mike. Go!” She staggered to her feet, gripping the pipes for stability.

“I can’t go near him or that thing.” You hesitated leaving Max, but when she yelled at you again to go for El, you turned your feet and broke off into a run. Then the fireworks began…

“Fuck!” you screamed, falling to your knees. Every corner of your body was set ablaze. You cried out as the flowers inside you constricted with every blast.

Max and Mike quickly caught up to you, pulling you to your feet. Suddenly, it was quiet, and a wave of calm washed over you. You saw a beautiful woman in a sundress and a hat by the beach. It wasn’t your memory, but it was being returned to someone after being taken away. Billy.

“She was pretty,” you could hear El cry in your head. “She was really pretty.”

Taking advantage of the situation, you sped through the corridor and into the mall. You found Billy beginning to stand up to the Spider Monster. “When I make a run for it, you grab El and get her out of here, okay?”

“What? You just said you can’t face that thing!” Mike told you.

“Just do it!” You pushed your feet as fast as you could to face the monster.

“No!” Billy roared, grabbing the monster’s tentacle mouth to stop it from reaching El.

Seeing your opportunity, you quickly pulled the taped matchstick from the bundle and ignited the fireworks. Swinging your arm back, you flung it as hard as you could into the monster’s mouth. Right as soon as the explosive left your hand, you caught incoming smaller tentacles headed for Billy’s side, slinging two of them to your side from the crook of your elbow.

“I got you,” you said out of breath, seeing Billy’s surprised face. However, your fight had the monster targeting you, sending two other tendrils to your side instead. You barely felt it, even as its sharp tongue stabbed into your abdomen.

Touching the Spider Monster was as worse as looking straight into the Gate. You cried out as flashes of memories of you and Steve, growing up through the years, bombarded you, while the flowers inside you began crawling outside your ribs instead. You barely heard the last firework go off as you felt the vines throbbing under your skin.

An arm wrapped around your waist and pulled your unmoving feet, dragging you away. Your spotted, blurred vision could only see a head of dark blonde curls with a massive dark mass in the background screeching in agony.

“It’s over. It's supposed to be over!" you heard Max’s muffled voice say. “What’s wrong with her?!” You felt hands on your shoulder, shaking you to snap out of it.

“Steve,” you breathed out. You tried to focus on Max, but with a blink, you were trapped back in your memories. Steve telling you to go home every time as he led a different girl up the stairs to his room. Steve dropping you off while thanking you for picking out a gift for Nancy. Watching him smile ever so fondly at Robin. Seeing the smile that you so desperately desired every time.

All the memories of Steve breaking your heart, you felt all at once.

You continued to unconsciously call out Steve’s name. Even when the paramedics began wheeling you out in a stretcher. You vaguely saw them cutting your shirt open, exposing the gore that was concealed by the fabric.

The black vines had reached out on the surface of your skin. The outline of your ribs was exposed, threading black and purple angry bruises over your torso. The right side of your ribcage had completely sank, one rib twisting outwards and leaking a mix of blood and black goo. The damage was extensive, but the monster you grew and fed inside you seemed to be finally lying still, only remaining dormant once the gate was sealed once again.

“… -eral broken ribs and possible internal bleeding!” a paramedic called. “One of her lungs has collapsed. She's in shock!”

Then Steve was there. You couldn’t tell if it was a memory or if it was happening at that moment. He was struggling against two firemen, trying to get to you with one hand reaching out. With the last bit of energy left, you raised your hand, reaching out towards him too.

“Steve…”

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 2

Episode 13: Opposite Universe

~In the Man Cave~

The weather that night in Swellview was dreadful, to say the least. There was a freak thunderstorm blowing over the city and everyone was on edge because of its intensity, especially Schwoz and (y/n). They were both worried that the rogue electricity in the air would circuit the equipment and technology in the Man Cave, so they were carefully monitoring everything. The tubes were the main problem; their delicate circuitry was particularly sensitive to lightning and it made them go haywire.

"Hey, are Charlotte and Henry back? Did they get the Hawkins tickets from Henry's awful sister?" Ray asked his friends as he jogged down from the sprocket, feeling anxious at how long the kids were taking in the terrible weather. Piper had recently won some concert tickets in a contest and all her friends were eager to get one. 'the band was pretty cool.

"First of all, Piper isn't awful. Prickly, yes, awful, no. And secondly, they're trying to come down but this freaky storm is making the tubes all weird." (y/n) told him as Schwoz fiddled with the tube controls. They'd been trying to get them to work for over ten minutes, and they still had no luck.

"Maybe press that button," Ray suggested to Schwoz, making the genius slap his hand away before he could make a mess of the programming. 

"I know!" He said and pressed the indicated button and finally, both tubes came down with Henry and Charlotte inside them. Only something wasn't right; the tubes were glowing and spitting with some kind of energy and the control panel was indicating that something was interfering with the tubes.

"What the hell's happening?" (y/n) asked in concern, but before anyone could do anything, the tubes went back up, lifting the kids out of the main room again. The storm raged on outside and little did anyone know, things were about to get weird.

~The opposite universe~

Henry and Charlotte landed again in the Man Cave, only things weren't the same. It felt familiar but also completely different like the essence was there but the soul and nature of the place had been altered. For starters, the whole place was flipped, so everything that should've been on the left side of the room was now on the right and vice versa. And that wasn't the only freaky thing.

In front of them stood Ray and Schwoz, but not the Ray and Schwoz they both knew and loved. They had beards and funny clothes and they seemed darker, more sinister...like the complete opposite of themselves.

"Man, that was a rough ride down the tubes..." Henry trailed off when he saw how everything had changed, especially the two adults, who were giving him evil stares. Not to mention their clothes, they were darker, stranger and definitely not what they were wearing before. 

They looked for help from Ray and Schwoz, but they only confused them further by doing some weird salute. They hit their foreheads, the heel of their shoe, and finally, stuck their fists out at a ninety-degree angle. What was going on?

Deciding that it would be best to follow along, the teens copied their greeting, clumsily repeating what they had just seen. It seemed to satisfy the new adults and they slowly lowered their arms.

"Now, Schwoz, I wanna know why it took you so long to bring Henry and Charlotte back down the tubes." Dark Ray asked his fearing handyman, his voice low and joyless.

"It was this crazy storm outside, it's effecting—" Dark Schwoz tried to give his boss his honest excuse, but this Ray was mean and unforgiving, there were no exceptions.

"No excuses." The large man hissed, making Schwoz gulp in fear.

"I promise it wasn't my fault, ugh!" He begged, but was taken by surprise when Ray grabbed him by his beard and yanked him closer to his angry face.

"Carelessness with the equipment will not be tolerated." He growled, causing the little guy's face to pale.

"Please, tolerate it, please!" His pleading fell on deaf ears, this Ray didn't allow insubordination or random acts of kindness so easily.

"Okay, what is going on?" Charlotte whispered to Henry as she pulled him to one side. 

"I think Ray's mad at Schwoz," Henry replied quietly as the two observed the arguing pair, frowning when they saw how harsh Ray was being.

"I know that! I mean, why's this place so different and them and our clothes? And where's (y/n)?" Charlotte asked, noting all of the differences that she could spot, the biggest one being that the young woman's cheery welcoming presence was prominently absent from this Man Cave.

"Okay, just don't say anything until we can get alone and talk," Henry told her, wanting to assess the situation first before they blabbed their mouths and landed themselves in bother.

"No, no, no, no..." Schwoz begged his boss once he had learnt his punishment.

"Give me your nostrilator," Ray instructed him in a dark voice, his begging having no effect on his stone-cold heart.

"Can't I just get a warning?" The genius tried to wiggle out of the trouble he had landed himself in, but it was no use.

"The nostrilator!" Evil Ray yelled at him, so he reluctantly handed the two-pronged weapon over, fearing the pain he was about to receive. 

"No..." Schwoz gulped as the large man illuminated the device and squealed when he shoved it up his nose. Charlotte looked away in horror and Henry was nearly sick as he watched his boss torture the poor little man, Schwoz yelling in agony as he felt like his brain was melting. 

Ray finally released him after a few more seconds and the kids looked on as a fried Schwoz fell to the floor, twitching and quivering from the trauma. This new Ray seemed to enjoy the fact that he had just inflicted pain onto another person so cruelly and he looked at his helpers for their opinions.

"What do you think of that?" He asked them in a crazed, husky voice.

"G—g—good one." Henry stuttered as he recovered from the shock, as did Schwoz, who continued to quiver when Ray chucked the nostrilator down next to him since the punishment was over. 

"Now, the tickets, did your sister agree to give your four tickets to the Hawkins concert?" Ray asked them in his low, villain voice.

"Uh, no, no. She's still refusing to give us any." Henry answered honestly as Piper hadn't given them any, but it struck a chord with the kids when Ray said four. They had asked for five since it was them, Ray, Schwoz and (y/n) going together, so why was she missing from his count?

"Then I guess we'll have to go with plan B." Ray chuckled manically, which then turned into a full-on evil villain laugh, so the kids nervously laughed along too. They didn't want to get on the wrong side of this guy, he was crazy.

"Everything all right with you two? It was a rough trip down the tubes." Ray asked them slowly, a minuscule shred of his original kindness poking through the bars of the cage he had put on his heart. His life had been dark ever since that fateful day, the day when Ray Manchester turned from a path of good and walked down one of evil instead. 

"Uhhh..." Charlotte struggled to find something to say, so it was up to Henry to say something believable.

"Uh, no. We—we—we got a real bad headache." The boy lied, trying to think of anything that would let them go upstairs.

"Yeah, we need to go upstairs to Junk-N-Stuff." Charlotte joined in, wanting to supplement the lie. 

"We need to get some headache medication." Henry gulped, hoping Ray would take the bait. Charlotte even clutched for forehead and moaned in pain to convince him. 

"All right, but don't even think about touching her first aid kit." The man said in a low, ominous tone and the kids didn't even want to question why Ray wouldn't let them rifle through (y/n)'s med-kit for some paracetamol. This place was getting weird and more mysterious by the second.

"Let's go," Henry said, pushing Charlotte into the elevator so they could find some time to discuss everything. 

"Ray, can you please hand me my glass of water?" Schwoz asked weakly from his place lying on the floor, so Ray went and got it and held it in front of his face. The poor guy reached out for the glass and it had barely grazed against his fingertips when Ray brought it to his own lips and drank it all himself. Ray gasped in satisfaction once he had finished the water, smirking at how Schwoz was groaning for help. He just didn't have in his heart to be kind anymore.

~Upstairs~

"Oh my god, look!" Charlotte gasped to Henry, both of them looking around the evil version of Junk-N-Stuff. It was seriously creepy, with a large clown doll and rattlesnake record player.

"Even Junk-N-Stuff is all different," Charlotte said a little too loudly for Henry's liking.

"Shhhhhh!" He tried to quieten her as he feared that someone would be listening to them and would realise that they weren't in the right place.

"I wanna know what's going on and I wanna know right now!" The teen girl snapped, causing Henry to drag her over the counter so they could talk quietly.

"You just yanked me over the counter!" She hissed, not realising that they were in deep shit.

"Listen, Ray might be watching us on the security cameras, hearing everything we say so just...be cool," Henry told her, looking around the store subtly to see if he could spot any of the cameras moving.

"It's not cool to yank a friend over a counter!" Charlotte scolded him, making Henry sigh. They didn't have time for this.

"I'm sorry, just act normal." He directed her and they both stood up again. Walking around the store, Henry started the conversation, hoping that if someone was watching, they'd think nothing was wrong.

"So, uh, tell me about your brownie recipe." Henry prompted Charlotte, who looked at him in bewilderment.

"My what?" She asked, knowing that she had no clue how to make brownies, but Henry didn't care.

Just make something up and I'll pretend to write it down." Henry told her, quickly grabbing a sheet of paper and a pen so it would look believable. 

"Uh, right, right. My brownie recipe, so uh...first, I buy a box of brownie mix." Charlotte said slowly, thinking of a basic recipe that would work.

"Buy box of brownie mix. Hey, did I spell brownie right?" Henry asked so he had an excuse to pull Charlotte closer to him. 

"Okay, I think I know why everything's so crazy around here," Henry whispered to her, making it look like they were working on the recipe.

"Why?" Charlotte looked at him contented, eager to hear his explanation.

"I think this really weird storm, right, with lots of lightning and stuff..." Henry started, as Charlotte nodded along.

"I think the storm created some kind of electrical interference with the tubes and somehow we ended up here, in this opposite universe," Henry explained, making Charlotte blanch at the news. Was he crazy?

"Opposite universe?" She asked in shock.

"Yeah, but talk about brownies, talk about brownies." Henry reminded her when he remembered that they were meant to be discussing the "recipe".

"Uh, so then, you open the box of brownie mix and pour it into a bowl." Charlotte stepped away from him and spoke loudly so she'd be heard on the cameras. 

"Uh, into a bowl." Henry scribbled something down as Charlotte yanked him back to her.

"What's an opposite universe?" She asked him in a hushed tone, feeling confused by the sci-fi concept.

"It's like our universe but different. It's sort of backwards like the good people are bad and everything's kind of the same but opposite." Henry told her in a grave voice, thinking it would be tricky to get them back to their universe.

"Wait, if we somehow got transported to this evil, opposite universe, does that mean there are evil versions of you and me that got sent to our universe?" Charlotte questioned, making Henry gulp as he realised that she was right.

"Oh my god." He quivered, thinking about the chaos that was probably going on in their world.

~Normal Universe~

"I order you! Let me go! I mean it, traitors! Ray, Schwoz what's wrong with you? And how can she be here? Get off me!" Evil Henry screamed as Schwoz and Ray wrestled him into a cell as (y/n) nervously followed behind them. The evil teens had come down the tube after the lightning had gone crazy and had tried to attack them once they realised that something was wrong. Everything was too nice and bright and to their bafflement, (y/n) was there smiling at them, something that they hadn't seen in a long time.

"You traitorous pig!" Henry spat at Ray as (y/n) came up behind the large man and put her hand in his. She was beyond worried and needed to reassure herself that she wasn't alone, her friend and protector were there to help sort this out.

"Grrrrrr!" Evil Charlotte growled, making Ray frown at them as he shielded his girl behind his back. He could tell that she was terrified after her favourite kids tried to kill her for surprising them. Thank god she could heal super quickly otherwise she'd be having bruises and cuts for days. 

"Have you gone insane? Why is she here?" Henry hissed, making Ray puff out his chest protectively as (y/n) nervously peeked out from over his shoulder. 

"Look, I don't know who you two are, but you're not the real Henry and Charlotte." The large man told them calmly, which enraged Evil Charlotte.

"I'll stab your face and bite your throat!" She threatened, her voice slurred from the fact that she had metal teeth. She definitely looked scary and (y/n) knew that she would bite them if she got the chance.

"She's not joking y'know, she bit me when she grabbed my hair," She whimpered in Ray's ear as she shivered from the murderous look that the young girl was giving them.

"It's okay, that's just a weird thing to say." Ray joked, smiling at his girl so she'd stay calm. It worked, his happy face always made even the worst things seem all right. 

"You both stay here, locked inside, whilst we figure out how to send you back to where you belong," Schwoz told them sternly, wanting to get to work straight away since the new kids gave him the heebie-jeebies.

"Okay, Ray. We'll play your game. What do you want? Money? Gold? Chicken wings?" Henry offered him anything could've desired, but Ray wasn't tempted, he was intrigued.

"Fascinating." He turned around and commented to his best friend he giggled at his deadpan reaction. She squeezed his hand and began to lead him away from the captive teens.

"Ray! No matter what you do, we know the truth! We know she's dead, stop lying to yourself!" Evil Henry yelled after them, making the adults stop as they heard their words. 

"What do they mean, "she's dead"?" (y/n) looked up at Ray in worry, but he was just as puzzled and concerned as she was. He didn't know who or what they meant, but he had a pretty good suspicion and it made his heart break.

~Opposite universe~

"All right, activate eliminator." Evil Ray told Evil Schwoz as they watched Piper on the supercomputer. They didn't care that she was a child, they were bad and they liked it that way.

"Activating eliminator." Schwoz complied, opening the case of the eliminator button, but his finger stopped before it could press it when Henry and Charlotte walked out of the elevator.

"Just play along and act like you fit in here. We don't them to think that we're some kind of—" Henry whispered to Charlotte, but she butted in when she noticed what Ray and Schwoz were looking at.

"Hey, hey, hey." She pointed to the monitor and they saw that Piper was sitting at home, smiling happily and that Ray and Schwoz were targeting her for death. Oh, shit. 

"Target acquired and locked in." The genius reported, making the teens panic. 

"Target?" Charlotte spluttered, hoping that they weren't doing what she thought they were doing.

"Uhhhh, Ray? Hey, Ray. That's my little sister." Henry pointed out, feeling sick to the stomach that they were targeting Piper. Yeah, she was annoying and bratty, but Henry couldn't bear to see her get hurt.

"Yeah. Schwoz set the eliminator to one point four-kay megawatts." Ray instructed, and Schwoz followed his orders, cranking up the intensity of the eliminator.

"Wait, what are you gonna do to her?" Henry asked his not-boss in an afraid voice.

"I'm gonna eliminate her. So we can take her concert tickets and go see the Hawkins." Ray explained to them in a flat voice.

"Uh, but what if the storm damaged the eliminator's circuits?" Charlotte questioned, hoping that she could stall them so she wouldn't have to see the little girl killed.

"Okay, we'll test it on someone else," Ray told them all, not wanting his evil scheme to go wrong.

"Acquiring new target." Schwoz moved the focus to Henry's dad, who looked so dark and scruffy and was carrying a really cute dog, but he seemed to hate it.

"Look at my dad." Henry paled when he saw how evil his family was in this universe, everyone in his family apart from Piper, who seemed to be sweet and loving in this world.

"Target acquired and locked in." Schwoz pressed the controls so the laser would focus on Mr Hart.

"Set for temporary elimination." Ray directed him, causing Henry to panic. He didn't want to see his dad zapped either.

"Wait, wait—" He tried to stop them from firing, but Ray gave the order anyway and in seconds, Mr Hart disappeared in a flash of bright light, making Henry's heart stop.

"He just eliminated your dad!" Charlotte pointed out as tears sprang to her eyes. She hated this, it was so cruel and nasty, nothing like the universe she was so well-accustomed to.

"I know." Henry breathed out in a strained voice.

"And re-materialise." Ray gave the order and Mr Hart was blinked back into existence, dazed, but unhurt. Henry and Charlotte sighed in relief as he was returned to reality, but their worries weren't over.

"And now, we'll eliminate Henry's little sister. Permanently." Ray smirked at his sidekick and Schwoz happily reprogrammed the machine. He loved it when they played God like this, it gave him such an evil thrill.

"Wait! Wait, wait." Henry jumped in, unable to keep his nerve at the thought of his sister dying.

"Yeah?" Ray asked expectantly, hoping that they had interrupted for a good reason.

"Uh, uh, Charlotte has a really good brownie recipe she'd like to share with you and (y/n)." Henry gulped, as Ray took in what he said. The boy had hoped that the mention of the sweet woman would soften Ray up a bit, but it made his face twist into a furious scowl and his eyes were dark and pained. 

"What did you say?" He growled at Henry, grabbing the boy by his shirt collar and lifting him to his face. Schwoz cringed at the sound of her name, knowing that its use was banned from the Man Cave. It was just too painful for Ray to hear.

"Um, brownies?" Henry swallowed nervously, looking to Charlotte for help, but she too was petrified with fear. This Ray was merciless and too scarred to care about anyone else. He had lost his love long ago...

"You don't say her name! She's dead, all right? DEAD! I lost her, so don't say her name!" Ray screamed in his face, making the kid's hearts leap to their throats. Oh, god. So that's why (y/n) wasn't around, she didn't exist anymore in this universe and perhaps that could explain why Ray was so bad here. They had often worried about what would happen if Ray lost his sweet girl either to someone else or in more extreme ways, but they could have never imagined this.

Ray slowly put the boy down as he calmed down slightly and turned back to the screen where Piper was still sat smiling and giggling happily. 

"Okay, boys and girls. Say a permanent goodbye to Henry's little sister. And a big hello to some concert tickets." Ray smirked as Henry shook off his fear and thought of something else that would stop the countdown. At least he'd learnt his lesson, don't say "(y/n)" in front of this Ray or else you're likely to die. The word that once brought him so much joy was now a source of agony and a reminder that he couldn't save what he loved dearest.

"Three, two one!" Schwoz counted down, but Henry couldn't let this happen.

"Wait!" He interrupted, stopping Ray's hand mid-movement as he tried to slam it down on the button. Ugh, this boy was really testing his patience today.

"Wait for what?!" He snapped, just wanting to get this over and done with. This was the girl that his sweet (y/n) loved to bake cookies for and now every time he saw her, it just made his heart bleed. He wanted to lock away his pain and never think about it, even though he could never stop thinking about her for long.

"'Cause..." Henry trailed off as he thought of some excuse, so Charlotte stepped in to help him out.

"I wanna press the button!" She jumped in, knowing that it would give them a few more seconds to work with.

"Okay, but hurry up, please. I really have to go to the bathroom." Schwoz moved to the side, crossing his legs as his bladder throbbed. He wasn't going to miss though, he loved being evil too much to do that.

"Just hit the button, will ya." Ray hissed to Charlotte as she sat down.

"Uh, sure. I just can't decide which finger to use, I mean, I can use this finger or this finger or this one or maybe this one..." She rambled, holding up each finger as she stalled the elimination as much as she could.

"Yeah, we haven't even talked about thumbs," Henry added in a nervous voice, making Ray glare at his helpers. What was with them?

"Just push the button, Charlotte. You're in the seat." Ray told her firmly, so she slowly chose a finger and edged it towards the button.

"Don't say urine." Schwoz pleaded as he tried to keep his mind off the sound of rivers and waterfalls. Things were starting to get painful now. 

"Whoa, whoa, hey, hey, hey! What if she has the concert tickets in her pockets?" Henry prompted before Charlotte hit the button.

"Yeah, if we eliminate Piper, we might eliminate her tickets too." The teen girl pointed out, making Ray ponder her theory. 

"I hadn't thought of that." He said, realising that he couldn't risk that. He wanted those damn tickets.

"I know. So I'll go check her pockets." Henry followed Ray across the room as Charlotte closed the eliminator button. Thank God for that.

"And if Henry finds the tickets..." She said as she walked over to them.

"We can all go to the Hawkins concert together." Henry finished and rayed that Evil Ray would like the plan.

"All right, Henry, you got thirty minutes. Get those tickets from your sister or else she disappears forever. Now, I'm gonna go get a haircut." Ray bought the plan and walked off moodily. Geez, he'd put so much pressure on their shoulders and now, it was up to them to save Piper, or else...

~Henry's house~

After a small fracas on the porch with Jasper and a group of evil kids (consisting of an evil Oliver Pook and Sydney Birnbaum), Henry transformed into his Kid Danger costume and walked into his house, which was strangely flipped the opposite way.

"Kid Danger, oh my goodness. What a wonderful surprise!" Nice Piper warmly greeted the superhero, shocking him at how kind and sweet she was.

"Uh, yeah. Listen, I heard you won tickets to the Hawkins concert. Now, give 'em to me." Henry told her in a fake aggressive voice, hoping he could intimidate her into passing them over to him, but it had no effect at all on Nice Piper.

"Oh, I would love to, but I've already invited three friends to the concert and I'm donating the other four to some poor children." She smiled at her not-brother, her cutesy pink dress completing her nice persona.

"Wow." Henry recoiled from her. Such kindness from his sister was unknown to him and it made him feel weird.

"What?" Piper asked, wondering what had surprised him.

"You're so nice," Henry told her truthfully and a pretty pink blush settled on her cheeks as she grinned at him.

"Aw, you're so nice for saying I'm so nice. Would you like me to bake you a pie?" Piper offered kindly, once again shocking Henry. His Piper would throw a pie at him, but never offer to bake one for him. 

"Yeah, I would love that—" Henry's words were cut off as the front door was opened abruptly and Evil Captain Man entered the house. His outfit was the same as the one from Henry's universe, only it had a deep red sash tied around his belt. 

"Captain Man! Oh my goodness, what a wonderful surprise!" Piper greeted him just as nicely as she had done to Kid Danger, but this Ray wasn't one for pleasantries.

"Shut up!" He hissed at the little girl, who happily followed his order.

"Sure." She said in a sweet tone, implying that she wasn't offended or upset by his rudeness.

"Uh, hey. I thought you said you were gonna get a haircut." Henry said to his not-boss, gulping at his sudden entrance. The boy couldn't help that he was here for something bad and that scared him shitless.

"I was, but I realised my hair's already perfect. Did you get the concert tickets from her?" Well, Ray's ego was still the same it seemed and Henry paled when he realised that he'd have to do something drastic to stop this guy from shooting his sister with his huge blaster.

"Uh, no...not yet, exactly, but—" Henry's mumblings were interrupted as Ray grabbed his shoulder and yanked him out of the way so he could get close to the little girl.

"Well, little girl. That makes you a problem." Ray growled and powered up his gun. The last tiny chip of his mercy screamed at him not to do this, but the darkness consumed it; he was too far gone now, no one could bring him back.

"Well, I understand, just do what you gotta do." Piper smiled, even though she was about to die, but Henry couldn't let that happen. He steamed forward and grabbed Ray's arm, aiming it away from the child.

"No!" He protested and the resulting laser blasted a hole in the wall, but Piper was fine. The opposing supers fell to the floor in a struggle as Piper gulped.

"Can't we just have some pie?" She asked the two scowling males as they stood up and gave each other death glares.

"You've gone soft, Kid Danger. I think you need a double dose of vitamin fist!" Ray said his bad quip and swung for Henry, who narrowly dodged his fierce punches. Piper tried to calm the situation down, but the evil superhero had too much rage against the world that dealt him heartbreak, so he tackled Henry onto the couch.

"Hey, little girly, can you help me out here, please?" Henry begged Piper as Ray pinned him to the floor and tried to strangle him. 

"I would, but I'm committed to a life of non-violence." Of course, she would say that. Using all of his strength, Henry kicked Ray off of him and pushed him back with his legs when he ran back towards him. Getting back on his feet, Henry tried to give him a strong punch, but the seasoned fighter blocked it and twisted his arm painfully behind his back. He shoved the boy against the fireplace and snarled in his face.

"Let me go." Henry hissed at him as his arm throbbed, but Evil Ray wasn't going to let him get away that easily.

"No. What's going on with you, kid? You've been acting weird ever since you and Charlotte came down those tubes. WHY?" Ray growled as Piper left to do some charity work. Geez, why couldn't she help him out? 

"I—I can't tell you." Henry gulped, thinking that he'd break the universe or something if he started bandying words like "I'm not your Henry, I'm from another world" around.

"You will tell me right now, or I will push my fingers right into your face." Ray threatened, his fingers putting an uncomfortable amount of pressure onto Henry's skin.

"Okay, okay. I'm not the Henry Hart you know." He conceded, hoping to God that Evil Ray would believe him.

"What are you saying?" The dangerous man growled, his fingers not letting up on the pressure.

"I'm from an opposite universe, so is Charlotte and we just wanna get back to where we belong so please, stop pushing your fingers into my face!" Henry pleaded hurriedly as his cheek began to sting.

"Prove it, tell me something about your universe." Evil Ray growled, wanting some proof.

"Uh, okay, okay. In my universe, (y/n) is alive and you're not evil and you're too scared to tell her you love her and she likes ice cream so you buy her ice cream all the time and she likes your floppy hair and when she's angry with you, she calls you Raymond and oh god, I'm panicking, that hurts." Henry rambled as everything he could say about Ray in his world fell out of his mouth. He figured that talking about (y/n), who was dead here, would prove that he wasn't lying and it seemed to work.

"Okay." Ray let go of him solemnly and Henry could breathe a sigh of relief. Honestly, he was expecting that to work, but he was sure glad it did.

"Y'know, in this universe, we got married," Ray revealed to his not-sidekick, as a broken smile twinged on his lips. Henry blinked in shock at the revelation, (y/n)'s loss must have hit harder than anything.

"Dude, I'm sorry. How did she..." Henry couldn't phrase it very well. He didn't want to just come out with it, this Ray was scary, but his curiosity was too strong to just move on.

"There was a bus full of children, she tried to get them all out before it blew up, but she got herself trapped in there. Never made it out." Ray choked, remembering his utter heartbreak as his sweet girl accepted her fate and died knowing she'd done her best. If only she had gotten a chance to say goodbye to him, told him she loved him one last time, told him to not let her death destroy him, maybe, just maybe, things would have been different.

"She loved you so much, man," Henry told him, knowing that the same was true for the couple in his universe, even if they were a few steps behind. 

"I know," Ray answered simply before walking out of the house, leaving a baffled Henry to follow after him. He loved her so much too and he was too angry, too distraught, too broken, to let anyone else touch his heart. It wasn't there anymore, it had died with (y/n) as she was the one who had always held it.

~Back in the Evil Man Cave~

It was Charlotte's job to get the tubes going again. With no "sweet" helper to give her a hand here, it was up to her to figure it out by herself. It was complicated, making her extremely glad that she had listened to Good (y/n) when she was dictating her repairs and engineering work in the Man Cave. The teen had choked on her own saliva when Henry had texted her what had happened in this universe and despite her sympathy for Ray, she knew they needed to get back home.

"Ahhhh!" Her attempts to get the tubes working were interrupted when Evil Schwoz crept up behind her and scared the bejesus out of her by playing a note on a weird, guitar-like instrument that he had. 

"Would you like some music?" He asked her, strumming the strings a little, which created a really crappy sound. It was scratchy and out of tune, so it hurt the ears of all who heard it. Well, everyone's except Schwoz's.

"You know Ray doesn't like you playing that thing in the Man Cave." Charlotte reminded the genius. It was the same in her world, Ray hated that thing and so did (y/n), in fact, one time, the young woman had tried to burn it. But Schwoz loved it and he didn't care about Ray when he wasn't around.

"When Ray's away, Schwoz will play." He quipped, making up a little tune to go with his ditty. However, he'd soon be regretting that as the elevator dinged and Evil Ray shoved Henry into the Man Cave, forcing Schwoz to hide his banjo thing.

"I wasn't playing music, I swear! I swear on my mother's boozle!" He told his boss in a fearful voice. What a strange thing to swear on.

"I don't care about your music or your mother's boozle. That is not the Henry we know." Ray told his handyman after he pushed Henry over to Charlotte, glaring at the teens.

"What?" Schwoz gasped as he gawped at the kids.

"That Henry and Charlotte are from an opposite universe." He explained to the genius, who understood the concept quickly, 'cause he was, y'know, a genius.

"Of course, that is why she looks so weird." Schwoz realised that the young girl was without her metal teeth or animalistic snarling and now everything became clear.

"Uh, have you looked in the mirror recently?" Charlotte snapped back, thinking that they could have a go at her for looking weird when they had those ridiculous beards going on.

"Hey, come on! We just wanna get back home to our universe." Henry stepped into the argument, just wanting to go home peacefully and without a fight.

"And we need our Henry and Charlotte back here. 'Cause these ones are lame." Evil Ray hissed, knowing that without his mean helpers, he couldn't succeed in all of his dastardly schemes.

"Hey, did you figure out what went wrong and why we're here in this universe?" Henry asked his friend, ignoring the insult from Ray. It was probably his thing to be all mean and nasty.

"I think so. See, when we were going down the tubes in our universe, the other Henry and Charlotte from this universe were coming down those tubes." Charlotte explained and Schwoz was picking up what she was laying down.

"Oh, there was electrical interference from the storm outside." He said, which made Ray think.

"Which is still happening..." He stated as he pondered the situation. 

"Right, so if we use the tubes now before the storm's over, that might take us back to our universe." Charlotte finished her theory and plan sounding pretty good. It could work and they had no other ideas, so it was worth a shot.

"The weird-looking girl is right," Schwoz told his boss, who was stroking his hairy chin in thought. 

"Why don't you shave that hair tuft of the top of your head?" The girl sassed, having had enough of being called weird. Henry cringed at her angry tone. He had seen how crazy these guys were and he really didn't want to get shot for being rude.

"Hey, in my universe, this tuft is cool!" Schwoz sassed back, despite Henry's best efforts to keep everyone calm. Charlotte looked to Evil Ray for his opinion and he shook his head, telling her silently that Schwoz was having himself on. 

"Henry, the storm conditions are changing," Charlotte reported to her friend as a sudden weather notification came through on her phone. 

"Them go, get on the tubepad now." Ray clapped his hands and pointed to the tubes. He wanted these kids gone as soon as possible. Although, it broke his heart to know that they were going back to a world where his sweet girl was still around and another version of himself wasn't cherishing every second with her. What he'd give to have his wife by his side one last time, just to tell her he'd never love anyone like he loved her, to kiss her lips again and to hear her tell him it would all be okay. 

"Wait, if I have two minutes left, I'm gonna use that time to make a heartfelt speech," Henry announced, gazing at Ray as he tapped away on the two controls. Did he have to? This was gonna be cringey.

"Oh, geez." Ray and Schwoz groaned at their thought of some do-gooder lecturing them on how to behave.

"Listen, in our universe, Captain Man is a hero, who would never hurt anyone unless they deserved it." Henry told his not-boss, knowing that he was speaking the truth. Their Ray was good and kind, if a little childish sometimes and a bit stupid for never seeing how their (y/n) would do anything for him. 

"What about me?" Schwoz asked excitedly, hoping he wasn't too different.

"You're a freak in both universes." Henry deadpanned, which went down well with Schwoz surprisingly. 

"You have fifty-five seconds," Ray growled at him, not wanting to keep talking to the kid about his feelings and shit.

"Ray, your ways of evil are illogical. You're strong and indestructible." Henry pointed out, trying to be as soppy as he could, even if it sounded cheesy.

"And handsome," Ray added, showing that he was still big-headed here. Some things never change. 

"Okay, maybe instead of hurting people, you start being nice to them like (y/n) would have wanted, you'll start liking being respected and loved more than you like being feared. You lost that when you lost your wife and I know that she would hate to see you like this." The boy said solemnly, watching as Ray clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut. He knew that (y/n) wouldn't have wanted this, but he didn't know how to deal with the pain in any other way.

"I don't know, kid. It's pretty hard to keep going without her. And I liked being feared, for example..." Ray turned to Schwoz and shouted "Boo!", pretty loudly, scaring the wits out of the little man.

"But maybe you're right, Henry Hart from another universe, maybe from now on I'll try to be good, for her and everything she gave me," Ray said as softly as he could in his villain voice and offered his hand out for the boy to shake.

Henry smiled and went to shake it, but when he did, Ray squeezed it so hard that his pinky broke. What a dick.

"Owwwwww, you broke my pinky finger!" Henry whined sadly, nursing his throbbing finger with his other hand. Looks like (y/n) would have to set that in a splint when they got back. 

"What? You can't expect me to let go of years of mourning and pain all of a sudden. Baby steps." Evil Ray said innocently as for the first time in years, all the love he had locked away began to very slowly trickle out.

~Normal universe~ Evil Henry and Charlotte were loaded up in the tubes as Ray, Schwoz and (y/n) prepared to send them home. It had been a mammoth task trying to figure a way to get them back to the opposite universe and to tame the horrid kids enough so that they would bite them again, but it was now time.

"Y'know, you should try being evil sometime. 'Cause evil's fun! Plus, it's way better than—" Henry told them as Charlotte gave one of her signature snarls. These teens were weird...

"Sorry, we only do good, kid." (y/n) butted in as the boy began to rant evilly, her back leaning into Ray's chest. This had been one of the weirdest days of her life. First, she found out that parallel universes exist, then she found out that she was dead in one and then Ray refused to tell her anymore about it. He just shuffled away from her with burning ears and forbade her from asking the bad kids from asking about her other-self. He claimed that he didn't want her to break the space-time continuum or something, but he really didn't want her to find out that in the opposite universe, they were married. Whilst the idea made his heart soar, he took it as a sign that if she loved the evil him, then it was the opposite here; she'd never love him and that shot down his heart.

"Would you get them out of here?" He asked Schwoz as he held his girl to his chest, hoping that she wouldn't hear his heart crumbling into tiny pieces. It wasn't fair, why did that evil asshole get to love her and didn't?

"Bye-bye!" (y/n) waved them goodbye as they shot up the sparking tubes, the lightning outside picking up again. 'Note to self, never use the tubes in a freaky thunderstorm again.' The young woman mentally noted, hating the idea of going through this crap again.

~The other universe~

"Wait!" Charlotte jumped off the tubepad at the last second as an unexpected idea popped into her head. Something had to be righted, otherwise, she'd never get over it.

"Before I go..." She jogged over to Schwoz and took a pair of nail scissors from her pocket, snipping the tuff off of the top of his head. The little man squealed in sadness as his tuft was taken away, but Ray just smirked at his horrified reaction. He had always hated the stupid tuft anyway.

"Hey, remember, Ray. In every revolution, there's one man with a vision." Henry couldn't help but say the cringey line as he wanted his last words to have an impact on the evil guy.

"I have no idea what that means. See ya!" Oh well, the meaning was lost on him, but he got the message anyway. Maybe he would become good again, after all, when he finally met (y/n) in the next life, he would have to tell her everything he got up to without her. And boy, she'd be pissed if she found out he had become evil.

~Normal universe~

Ray held (y/n)'s hand nervously as they and Schwoz waited to see if their plan worked. The tubes came down with the teens again, but they didn't look evil. In fact, they looked very, very familiar. Ray walked over to them with a delighted smile as (y/n) followed behind him.

"You're not gonna bite me, are you?" The young woman asked them with a grin. She knew it was her Henry and Charlotte, but she couldn't help but tease them.

"What?" Charlotte asked in confusion, the young woman chuckling in relief when she saw that she didn't have those razor-sharp metal choppers. God, they stung like a bitch when they chewed into her shoulder and she was thankful to have her superpower.

"Long story." She smiled fondly at them as Ray put his arm around her shoulders, feeling like everyone was back where they belonged.

"Welcome home, kids." He told them softly, knowing that his family was back for good. It was a tender moment...that was completely ruined when Schwoz brought out his banjo-guitar thing and played a crappy tune to celebrate.

"Seriously?" Charlotte groaned, having had enough of the banjo-thing playing in the opposite universe. She didn't want more of it now that she was home.

"Schwoz!" Ray snapped, feeling himself and his girl tense up at the sound of the instrument that haunted them at all times of the day. Schwoz even played it in the shower and they had often huddled together under Ray's duvet looking for respite from the terrible noise.

"I thought I put that thing in the incinerator?" (y/n) asked him with a groan. She had tried to get rid of it once and for all, but it seemed that Schwoz had intercepted it before it could urn. Damn it.

"Gahhh!" The genius stomped off to his room where he could play and appreciate his music by himself. His friends giggled at his tantrum before the adults turned back to the kids.

"Don't you think that it's weird that in that universe, I'm dead?" (y/n) asked, feeling goosebumps rise on his arms at the thought of dying so young and before she could tell Ray how she felt. If only she knew that they had been happily married for several years before her untimely demise.

"Yeah, it was so weird," Henry told her, remembering the way the other world was that a bit less bright without her in it.

"Without you, Ray turned evil...'cause you're his best friend." Charlotte quickly added the bit on the end when Ray gave her his intense, wide-eyed stare. Without the addition, he felt it sounded too obvious that he couldn't be him without her and was terrified that she'd catch on.

"Aw, Raymond, you big doofus." (y/n) cooed at him and reached up to smush his cheeks together as her heart melted. The best friend part stung, but still, her heart soared at the prospect of him losing it without her. He never cared about the other girls that left and she felt so special that she was the one that meant the most to him.

"Uh, yeah..." Ray's brain turned to mush when she loving planted a kiss on his cheek, but the funny angle meant that it was a little closer to his lips than normal. (y/n) just walked off without a second thought, wanting some ice cream to complete her happiness. Her best friend, on the other hand, was on cloud nine as he focused on how close he got to tasting those lips again, he just wanted to feel them one more time or possibly for the rest of his life. 

"Whipped, whipped, whipped..." Henry and Charlotte chanted as they left him to short-circuit next to the tubes. It was true, he was so whipped and they were counting down the days until he finally caved in and kissed her again, only this time, he would get the answer he had been searching for all his life.

[love-kurdt]

How to Write a Good Fanfiction: A 5 Step Manual

Hello! My name is @love_kurdt, also known as Eva, and I’m a Wattpad Veteran of the early 2010s, where the genres of Slash Fics, Y/N, and Imagines ran rampant. I spent years of my life as a kid scrolling through my iPod touch, weeding through Wattpad’s plethora of profiles, on a quest to find quality fanfictions. I found a handful, which I added to a specific reading list to come back to when I needed a break from screaming into my pillow because of the sheer audacity of thought-criminals who called themselves writers.

When I’d reached the point of reading the same five works over and over in a never ending cycle, I decided to make the life-altering decision to start publishing my fanfictions online. Granted, I was only thirteen at this point, so my writing wasn’t spectacular by any means, but I came to discover that over time, the mere acts of reading and writing can light a spark of inspiration that can carry you to creative success.

I’ve been writing my own works for over ten years now, and can confidently say that I have cracked the code to writing a good fanfiction that will have your readers captivated instead of cringing. Please don’t get me wrong– if you want to just write fanfic on the internet for fun, and not to write a novel, that’s great, too! That’s what the internet is for; exercising your free will. But this manual is tailored towards those who want to hone in on their craft and gain a substantial following as strictly fanfiction authors. So without further ado, let’s jump into it. Godspeed!

Step 1: Choose Your Fandom

What show, movie, or book has drawn you in and left you feeling like there should be more to the story? When one of those media comes to mind, you’ve chosen your fandom!

Step 2: Do Your Research

When writing fanfiction, it’s kind of an unspoken rule that you need to know the canon of the fandom you’re writing about. The canon is also known as the source material. For example, if someone were to write a Draco Malfoy x OC fanfiction (*cough* a 200+ page Draco Malfoy self insert fic written at 11 years old in a series of notebooks bound together with multiple layers of Gorilla tape *cough*), the canon would be the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. It’s, in essence, what “really” happened. It’s totally fine if you want to write a non-canon compliant fic, too! In fact, they’re extremely popular, specifically within the “fix-it” genre, which usually involves characters that died in the canon but the author kept alive in their fanfiction. Either way, you should have a general idea of how the canon functions within the context of the fandom, so you can make creative choices that diverge from or stick to the canon.

With the canon comes the fanon, which is basically a compilation of fan theories and headcanons that are often common themes in both canon and non-canon compliant fanfics. A pretty niche example of this is the Byler fandom (the ship between Stranger Things characters Will Byers and Mike Wheeler), where there’s an official list of theories on Tumblr that are used in many, if not most Byler fanfictions. There’s FlickerGate, where the flickering of the garage light in Season 1 is actually Will and Mike in the Upside Down in Season 5. There’s BirthdayGate, where the antagonist, Vecna, manipulates the minds of everyone in Hawkins to forget Will’s birthday, which is a central plot point in a lot of Byler fics since no one seems to remember it, not even his best friend. There’s also LetterGate, where Will confronts Mike in the canon about not sending any letters after he’d moved away, but the theory reveals that Mike wrote plenty of letters– he just never sent them because they ended up turning into love letters, which in turn resulted in internalized homophobia. You get the picture. Most theories reach far into the land of delusion, but it doesn’t stop writers from creating incredible work that could easily be mistaken for a script.

But Eva, what if I just think the characters are hot and I don’t give a shit about the cannonball? I can’t tell you what to do, my friend, but I highly suggest you at least consider the canon so you can avoid all the petty, obnoxious gatekeepers in some fandoms who can be unhinged enough to send death threats if you leave out a significant canonical detail. But you do you!

Step 3: Choose Your Platform

There are three popular platforms to choose from: Archive of Our Own (ao3), Tumblr, and Wattpad. There are also a few other lesser known or dead pages such as fanfiction.net, but I honestly wouldn’t bother with those, since they’re more infiltrated with anons and bots nowadays.

This is where you want to think about 1) where most of the members in the fandom you chose reside, and 2) the demographic of readers you want to reach. For example, I observed a higher number of Nirvana fans on Wattpad than the other two platforms, which is why I chose to post my full length Kurt Cobain fanfiction, “You Know You’re Right,” on there. It also helped that my favorite author of another Kurt Cobain fanfiction on Wattpad, @/ugh-nirvana, had hits in the hundreds of thousands, so I was confident that my book would do well on that specific platform. On the other hand, the Stranger Things fandom is in full swing on Tumblr and ao3, so I chose to post those fanfictions on there rather than on Wattpad. It all just depends on who’s where.

You also have to consider how active you want to be on your platform(s). Tumblr is more of a blog situation, while ao3 and Wattpad are solely for publishing the work. If you want to have a life beyond the realms of the world wide web, choose Wattpad or ao3, as inconsistent updates are a bit more accepted than on Tumblr. But if you want to throw yourself headfirst into a fandom and put your whole author-ussy into your fanfic, then Tumblr is the platform for you.

You should be aware, however, that Tumblr involves a lot of upkeep, as well as constant, strategic, and active participation within your fandom. Visual aesthetic is vital to any functional Tumblr blog. Most profiles have directories, with color coded links to each work’s homepage, which is linked to each individual chapter, which are then distinguished by a unique GIF to capture a prospective reader’s attention while they’re scrolling through copious amounts of content. And there are always new ideas and theories in development in certain fandoms, so it’s crucial to keep up with recent updates in order to stay relevant.

After all is said and done, you don’t have to get married to one platform for the rest of your life. You can choose to be exclusive to one or two platforms, or publish everything on all of them! The decision is ultimately yours!

Step 4: Obey the Writer’s Trifecta of Consistency

Yes, I came up with this term, and yes, it should be a real thing. Because in every piece of writing, whether it be fanfiction, a short story, an actual book, a screenplay, what have you, it is critical to be consistent in your People, your POV, and your Plot. Let me explain.

People

Your people, or your ensemble of characters, consists of three hierarchical levels: your protagonist/antagonist, your side characters, and other background characters. I should emphasize the importance of building character profiles for everyone, including your pre-existing characters from the fandom, but specifically for your original character(s) if you have them. That way, you know who serves as a major plot device, who serves as someone who just helps time move faster, and those who are mentioned by name but have very little significance to the events of the story. I’m going to reference Harry Potter again, since most of the world is familiar with the characters. Harry and Voldemort are the protagonist and antagonist; Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Professor Dumbledore, Hagrid and company are side characters; and Peeves, Seamus Finnigan, and Blaise Zabini are background characters. Keep this hierarchy in check; don’t let your main characters fade away, and don’t let your background characters shift to the forefront for no reason. If you do plan to move a character up or down the ladder, make sure to have clear motive as to why you’re bringing this character into or out of play.

2. POV

Your POV is the point of view in which you’re writing from. Assuming you’ve been in a typical middle school English class, you’ve heard of the first, second, and third person points of view. I cannot tell you how many times I have read fanfictions that jump from one POV to another, sometimes within the same sentence. I open the door and see Kurt Cobain standing in the corner of the room. She walked across the floor to meet him there. See what I did there? I jumped from first person present tense to third person past tense. Do not attempt this at home.

The least common of the three points of view is the second person, or what I like to call the Y/N point of view. In fanfiction, second person POV is often used in self-insert fics, where instead of a character’s name, it’s replaced with “you.” That’s why a lot of romantic character x reader fics are so popular. You should feel free to use this one, especially if that’s the kind of vibe you’re going for, but I’m going to elaborate a little bit more on first and third person, as they’re a bit more “literary.”

The first person POV confines the narration to the mind of one character. It can also be done with multiple characters, but be sure to do it so it’s painstakingly obvious to the reader whose POV you’re writing from. Also note that if you plan to write multiple first person POVs, try to keep that number on the lower side, as a large number of POVs can get really complicated really quickly. Third person narration can be done from two angles: limited or omniscient. Limited is more similar to first person, in which you’re confined to one person’s viewpoint, but they aren’t the narrator; you’re just seeing the story through their eyes. Omniscient is my favorite, because you can narrate from a bird’s eye view with the freedom to travel from mind to mind and read their thoughts.

Building character profiles can be really helpful when developing both first or third person POV; if you connect with a particular character more strongly than the rest, that should tell you whose POV you should write in. If you choose to switch POVs, be sure to do it either on an alternating/rotating basis, or if you repeat, it should be apparent as to why that particular character is the “voice” of that scene.

3. Plot

Dare I say that Plot is the most important step of them all, so do not skip this one, whatever you do! The biggest mistake most fanfiction writers make is having a concept but lacking a plot. It’s like biting into an apple just to discover it’s a lemon. Many writers are capable of starting off strong, but once their initial story begins to meander, traveling into uncharted territory, their brainchild can become a monstrosity.

In order to write a solid plot, it’s pretty common knowledge that you need to have a beginning, middle, and end in place. It doesn’t need to be overly specific or down to the last detail, you just need to figure out how your characters make it from point A to point Z (the larger scale), and how points B through Y factor into the plot (the smaller scale). There are a few routes that you can take in order to do this: you can write the entire thing ahead of time without any input, you can write the entire thing with the feedback of a beta reader or proofreader to help you work out any kinks or mistakes before you publish it for the entire platform to see, or you can publish it gradually and take feedback from your readers as you go. Should you go with the last option, though, you should be made aware that if you aren’t already an established author, it may feel like you’re talking to a wall, and you will likely feel discouraged from writing the story altogether.

I find it helpful to outline the whole thing. I have a closet door in my house dedicated to a Dave Grohl true crime fanfiction I’m working on. I’ve written the entire story from beginning to end on index cards, split into four different parts with each card representing a chapter. What’s good about outlining is that I can edit my story as I go along. If I decide to change something, I can add or remove an index card, then replace or rearrange the other index cards to work around the change I made, and that way, I don’t have to start over from scratch. It’s helpful to see everything laid out in front of me, so I’m not left at the end of a completely improvised plot with a slew of loose ends that I’ll need to go back and edit. It’s also better than publishing each part individually then having to redo everything after your readers have already seen it. And I don’t know about you, but I enjoy it when I’m able to save some time, energy, and lengthy explanations to random people online. That is, unless you enjoy constant feedback from readers, in which case you can change the plot on a chapter by chapter basis based on their feedback.

Consistency in all of these respects is key. I cannot emphasize this enough. Keeping all of these elements in check will help you create a sort of cohesiveness that will neatly wrap the story up with a little bow on top. 

Step 5: Use Relevant Tags and Content Warnings

Repeat after me: tags matter! Again: tags matter! When you’re about to publish your fanfiction, you’re going to be given the option to add tags to your work. For my first few years spent on Wattpad, I had no idea what tags were, so I didn’t use them. Thankfully, the platform was still pretty small, so people still found my work pretty easily. Nowadays, though, it’s nearly impossible to find what you’re looking for without searching excessively specific tags and using a million filters. It’s unfortunate, but look at it this way: there are so many people contributing to so many fandoms that the content is seemingly endless!

What you’re going to want to do is add as many tags as you can but keep it as simple as possible. I know that sounds kind of oxymoronic, but I mean it in a way that all of your tags relate directly to your story, and not just to the fandom itself. A lot of readers feel misled when they’re scrolling through their filtered search page for, let’s just say, a Byler fanfic, and end up neck deep in a Mileven fanfic in disguise. That’s not a fun experience.

Lastly, please remember that you are publishing your work on the internet, and you don’t know who may encounter your work! Listen, we live in a world where everything needs to be overexplained, everything needs trigger warnings, and everything needs to be neutral or else someone is going to hate you. I get it. I’ve been writing fanfiction for a long time. It might be annoying to add content warnings, especially if one of those warnings spoils a major plotline, but if I’m being honest, I’d rather be safe and add the damn warning than not add the warning and be responsible for someone’s worsened emotional or mental state. Bottom line, it’s just fanfiction! Let’s do our due diligence to create a community full of love and understanding for everyone!

After that, you should be all set to publish! Let’s review one more time for the road:

Choose Your Fandom

Do Your Research

Choose Your Platform

Obey the Writer’s Trifecta of Consistency

Use Relevant Tags and Content Warnings

If you’ve stuck around for this long, thank you so much!

I hope this manual helps you along your fanfiction writing journey, wherever it takes you <3

[randomdragonfires]

I'm truly sorry for the hate you've been receiving on your recent chapter. I have to be real, those types of comments really make me cringe and want to distance myself from these reader/oc fics. As someone who's typically shy, I'm trying to be better at leaving comments, but then I see these individuals getting way too personal about fictional characters and it reminds me of creepy men's comments on my OF account. It's when parasocial relationships and self-inserts become too intense, and I always see the same culprits leaving bizarre remarks about Alys under these stories. It takes away from the enjoyment of reading modern adaptations featuring Aemond who is already a complex enough character. Knowing that the reader or OC will most likely be portrayed positively, it's insane how possessive they become over Aemond in these situations. I only got into Hotd after season 2 and just started reading Aemond fics a month ago, but every time I come across a reader story involving Alys, there's always some obsessive commenter losing their mind because Aemond isn't treating the reader like they want him to.

Hi anon!

First off, thank you so much for reaching out. Although, I feel the need to let you know - I've seen horrible stuff in this fandom, and even though what I got was a bit mean, I'm quite comforted by the fact that it could be much worse haha. Probably not the right way to look at it, but that's all the space I'm willing to give to strangers on tumblr lol.

I don't know if it's a parasocial relationship so to speak; honestly, I don't know the subject well enough to even see if it is that, actually. But I can see that people are usually very inclined towards the OCs/readers - and perhaps that contributes towards their feelings.

I've been talking about the unwarranted Alys Rivers hate that I've been seeing, especially since I posted the last chapter of Time Can't Stop Me.... One thing that came up in every conversation is that we tend to look at fantasy or period dramas through a modern lens. It is automatically assumed that our values are a part of the construct of the fictional world - when in fact, grooming, as a concept, did not exist at all in Westeros. Doesn't make grooming okay - I'm just saying that it wasn't even recognized as a crime in the canon setup.

Westeros is a male-dominated world, and an absolute monarchy at that. Doesn't matter if you're eight or eighty, if a prince stands opposite you, you have absolutely no power unless you're a bloody king. Because grooming was not a concept in Westeros, I don't understand how people blame and hate Alys, rather than the unhinged killer prince who rode a sentient war machine lmao - anything she had over him was purely her own, and was she was definitely not helped by the society or people around her.

But maybe that's just me wdyk.

The show's portrayal of Alys is clearly far from the negative connotations that have been associated with her here. The book doesn't divulge much. I'm genuinely confused as to why this is happening lol

Anyway - so sweet of you to check in. Thank you!

[6rookie-writer0110]

Could you do Millie Bobby brown x male!reader where y/n used to be part of thr Adult Entertainment Industry when he was 18 years old where he had sex with Lana Rhodes, Amirah Adara, Tori Black, Adriana Chechik, Sunny Leone, and Peta Jensen. When he was 20, he quit the industry and became an actor. He turned out to be a great actor and was involved in multiple projects such as Spider-Man Across the Spider-verse, Avatar th way of water, WildFlower, and Deep Water. Y/n met Millie when he was cast for season 4 of Stramger Things. Y/n and the cast got along very well, and they became great friends. Millie and y/n became close, and there was sexual tension between them, Millie knew about y/n formally working at the adult entertainment industry as it was no secret. So Millie decides to look up porn videos on y/n. This results is Millie gettikg really horny as she is amazed of y/n's bick thick cock and how y/n uses it to fuck well know female porn stars. After that Millie fantasize her and y/n naked where she sees his cock twitchs at her. Then y/n slides his cock inside her pussy and pounds her like a bitch in heat. Her eyes rolled up at the former porn star pound her to submission,then filled her up with his cum multiple times. During set of Stramger Things season 4 y/n went to Millie's trailer to tell her that everyone is going to lunch. Y/n heard moan inside the trailer where Millie was calling his name telling him to fuck her. Y/n then knocks the door, Millie open up and y/n tells her that everyone is going to lunch. Few days later Y/n and Millie hang out after the production of Strangers Things season 4. Y/n confronts Millie about her moaning his name in her trailer. Millie didn't answer him as if she committed a crime. Y/n tell her that it ok as he knows that she had a crush on him and knows she saw one of his porn videos. Millie shutter trying to denying it but y/n kisses her which results he melting into the kiss. Y/n and Millie went to his hotel room Millie pulls out his cock and stroke it while y/n rubs her pussy. Y/n sits down on the bed and millie spits and sucks on his cock while Y/n thrust his cock gently. Y/n then gets up where he tell millie to give him a blowjob. Y/n then tell her to get up where they stripped their clothes. Y/n stands behind Millie where she stroke his meat pole while y/n gropes her pussy and boobs. Y/n her that her ass and mouth are amazing and teases if her pussy is wet. Millie tells y/n to fuck her pussy daddy. Y/n got her on all fours and inserts his cock inside her pussy. Y/n pound Millie's pussy causing her to moan in pleasure as thr formor porn star is fucking her. Y/n then carries her while fucking her and millie wrap her arms and legs around her. Y/n then takes Millie at the balcony where millie put her hands on the railing balcony and jiggled her cute, tight ass y/n, reaching back to shake her cheeks with her hands, hypnotizing her y/n ans he strokes his cock. Y/n then fucks her against the balcony both of them not caring if they get caught since there horny as fuck. Y/n was getting close as he couldn't hold on anymore and gave Millie a big load of his seed inside her pussy multiple times. This came Millie to roll up as if her eye were possessed.

Part 2 of Millie Bobby Brown x male!reader x Sadie Sink where y/n and Millie have been together for a year and a half. Sadie watches porn videos of y/n, which makes her wonder how his dick would feel inside her. Milliy caught Sadie watching videos of y/n, but Millie is not mad at sadie to her surprise. Millie described having sex with y/n to Sadie, which makes her horny as millie describes every detial of thier sexual encounter. So Millie decides to invite Sadie to her home to have a threesome with y/n as a surprise for him. Y/n, Millie, and Sadie have a threesome just like in the movie Knock Knock 2010, where Sadie and Millie surprise y/n in the bathroom naked. In the end, y/n shoot hisbload inside Sadie and Millie

Alright. I will write it

[stevie-petey]

hi! i found ur bug and bee story very recentlywith all 8 chapters completed, and wow! what a delight! i really ghad a lot of fun with it and its clear you did too, its impressive how seamlessly you just added in an extra character and didn't make it seem overcrowded or, like, someone obviously not part of this universe, that's a tough thing to get right and you did really well! also, lobe the realistic tension between bug and nancy like it just felt all very real and very yes this is how a teen girl would act in this situation, and the slow friendship development between steve and bug is fantastic, love love love a juicy enemies (one sided) to friends to lovers (??) plotline!! i was wondering if you were planning on continuing this series into season 2 or if u were done with it?? no pressures just curious! excited to see your writing!!

hi i want this framed your words are everything i love n more 🫶🫶 thank you SO much, i really worked hard to make the reader insert realistic and genuine and whenever someone says it is i get :’))) proud moments. so incredibly happy you love all the relationships, im so proud of them and cannot wait to flesh them out more as the story progresses

as for continuing the story: YES !! wdtai is a part of my come home series, which is the entirety of stranger things rewritten with bug :) i have one more bonus chapter coming out between 1 and 2, then i’ll get started on my planning for 2 and storyboarding. itll take some time, but !!! season 2 will be SUCH a lovely season

[at1nys-blog]

Hi, I don’t know how to properly make one so if it looks chaotic just know I don’t have any clue how to make this properly. Let just start then.

How to requests posts:

You can: request as an anon

But: leave an rappresentative emoji/letter/phrase/whatever

Why: so I know if you already requested, in that case it will pushed unless no one new requested something.

You can: ask me to write a fem/male!reader

If: you don’t I’ll automatically make gn!reader

You can: give reader a specific nationality/job.

You can: request a SMAU

But: you HAVE to give me more details, which can be discussed on private if you want

Or: you can trust me and leave it to me

But: in this case it might take me longer than usual.

In this case: at least tell me how you want things to develop; any plot twists involved I WONT ACCEPT A SMAU REQUEST FROM ANONS SINCE I WILL TAG PEOPLE

Please: say if you want a male!reader because my SMAU are always a fem!reader, is easier for me like that

You can: request a Character x Character

Might add more

Things I won’t write:

Romantic xreader insert for minors celebrities. As for now just Xikers. Just give me a name to use

Anything with cheating involved.

Anything with pregnancy.

No smut. Might change but as for now I won’t. I have nightmares since the last time I tried

ANYTHING THAT ROMANTACISES MAFIA RELATIONSHIP. This is very important pls take it in consideration.

ANYTHING FOR YUK1O OKUMURA AND T3TTA KISAKI. Another important rule to follow. I don’t like the guys I won’t write for them no matter what. Of course they’ll be mentioned, I just don’t want the focus to be on them.

I will not write kdrama ff. Both reader insert or Character x Charaxter

Might add more

I will not make a gn!reader SMAU AND THIS IS JUST BECAUSE IM NOT VERY COMFY WITHOUT A SPECIFIC GENDER FOR THOSE TYPE OF FANFICTION I’m pretty sure you can find blogs that does that, sorry if I’m not that type of blogs 😞

What might be taken down:

Why: they might not tell me anything. But try your luck I guess

Requests with celebrities or fandoms I don’t know

Why: I don’t have enough knowledge about them

Requests for latest MCU tv shows

Why: I didn’t like them, I don’t know what happened

Requests for fandoms I don’t follow anymore. Ex: Harry Potter; Doctor Who

Why: I might not have any ideas for those unless you have one

Attack on titans. I liked the first couple of seasons but then it got meh for me

Might add more

Things I will write:

Angst

Friends-2-lovers

Enemies-2-lovers my favorite

Strangers-2-lovers

And so on

Suggestive is a green light so ask if you want

Single parent!Au

Fantasy!Au and more

Smau

Fake texts

Headcanons

Might add more

For who I write:

But 1st, a couple of important things:

I might need to age up some underaged characters depending on the request

Is going to be divided in 5: List #1 is about my top favorite show/anime/manga/celebrities not counting One Piece and the MCU tv shows are about fandoms that I think no one writes for/writes less for THIS IS A FIXED LIST WILL MAYBE CHANGE SLIGHTLY IN THE FUTURE BUT ONLY IF I FIND SOMETHING THAT I LIKE AS THOSE FANDOMS AS WELL; List #2 is about fandoms I write for rarely because I am always for a loss of ideas; List #3 fandoms I haven’t wrote for yet; List #4 list of fandoms I never thought to write for but I won’t mind writing if someone asked.

MAINLY DOES NOT MEAN I WILL NOT WRITE FOR OTHER CHARACTERS. IT JUST MEANS THEY KINDA HAVE PRIORITY

List #1:

BLUE EXORCIST

Mainly: Bon, Renzo and Rin

One piece

Mainly: Zoro, Eustass Kid, ShanksxBuggy

Tokyo Revengers

Mainly: Mitsuya, Haitani brothers and Hanma

MCU LOKI HAWKEYE AND MOON KNIGHT

HVITSERK/MARCO ILSØ

MAMAMOO

DREAMCATCHER

Block B

Mainly: P.O.

Six of crows

List #2:

Actors in general will take longer if I don’t know the one you requested

Ateez

Stray kids

Grey’s anatomy

MCU

Criminal Minds

My hero academia

Alice in Borderland

Mainly: Chishiya and Kuina

List #3

Other Marvel movies/tv shows

Vikings

Mainly: Floki (non romantic), Ubbe, Hvitserk and Ivar

The last kingdom

Supernatural

Mainly: Dean Winchester

Jujutsu Kaisen

Chainsaw man

Fullmetal Alchemist: brotherhood

Noragami

List #4

IF YOU SEE A FANDOM YOU WOULD LIKE TO REQUESTS IN THIS SECTION IT DOES NOT MEAN I AM NOT GOING TO WRITE FOR IT IS JUST I NEVER WROTE AND I WONT WRITE UNLESS PEOPLE ASK FOR IT SO ASK ANYWAY

Avatar the last Airbender

Trigun Stampede (2023)

Fire Force (anime ver.)

The legend of Korra

Aespa

Itzy

Seventeen

Twice

(western) singers

2 Broke Girls

One Chicago

Stranger Things

Sweet Home

The Last of Us (tv show ver.)

The umbrella academy (might take a while I have to rewatch it)

Game of Thrones

Doctor who

Percy Jackson

Merlin

Harry Potter

[hilarychuff]

for the fic writers questions: 3, 4 (fic choice up to you), 7, 12, 13, 41 & 42 :)

ty for sending so many!!!

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

ummm they're very demisexual a lot of the time 🥲 nobody kisses until they're in LOVE love usually lmao. or at the very least a strong basis of "i love you as a person" before it gets to "i'm in love with you"

4. What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of?

i think there are a lot of really fun easter eggs in howl!!!!!! there are lots of horror references in scream but given the sansa pov i sprinkled in a lot of romcom references in the first howl. in scream 2, the initial victims have names related to the victims from the first scream, so in howl 2, i kept that true to the ~message~ of the killer but pulled scream character names for the other bits of it. so like in scream 2, the initial victims are maureen evans and phil stevens — ghostface's nods to maureen prescott and steven orth. in howl 2, my initial victims needed to be references to catelyn tully and ned stark, so i named them tully prescott and eddard becker (like casey). also the moment when tyrion is talking about going on a talk show i changed it from diane sawyer to gayle king so it could be a lil wink to gale weathers. :)

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

lmao the worldbuilding in all the right reasons (all the right places) is probably unnecessarily complicated for what the fic needed to be!!! obviously i did not create the bachelor world BUT i did get very into like. ok. steve is the bachelor. how did he BECOME the bachelor. how do i adapt his canon storyline. if he's besties with robin it's presumably after a fall from grace. and i pulled a lot of bachelor storylines to build that out like.

it's very much a combination of nick viall going on the show a bunch of times/being kind of a dickish runner up plus becca kufrin last minute swap sympathy arc plus nick viall paradise redemption to bachelor journey but i think if you look at it it really mirrors his canon storyline!!! also all the names of girlies mentioned of seasons past/present are names pulled from stranger things canon so that's fun too

but yeah i mean given that it's basically all back story before the fic even starts (also that it is secondary to the main chrissy/robin romance) it was really more just for fun and to make the world make sense to me of how we got here so!! i think it's interesting

the background targaryen/martell politics for the royal records (jonsa princess diaries au) was also fun and took me a bit to stump through before i was like ah ok i know why dany would now be seeking jon as an heir

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

hmmmm. the only thing that really comes to mind here is like... omegaverse lol. it's still not really my thing (the animal aspect of it doesn't really have any appeal and scent glands in particular is a squick that i also simply do not understand like what are they supposed to be!!!) but i can fuck with the elements of it that's like. soulmate adjacent. biological irrepressible need to fuck RIGHT NOW!!! also this person smells great to me and everyone else is blech. lmao.

13. Are there any tropes you used to like but don’t anymore?

much as i love an au i'm not really into crossovers at all which i used to be much more willing to entertain. i'm a very like "this must make sense" type of reader/writer and it's a lot of logical leaps for me usually. i also used to be a lot more willing to entertain incest ship stuff (which was sometimes a necessity for jonsa) but i much prefer when that is not an element at play (so like a modern au where they're not related at all, or a canon interpretation where they know they're not siblings by the point they come to care about each other romantically).

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

i think i don't have the energy to really attempt this but i looooooooved chrissy and eddie's infinite mixtape from @little-scribblers-heart and especially loved how rosie included references for each chapter in the notes at the bottom. i thought it was a really cool way to incorporate either knowledge about the era or all the research put into it!!! the writing of the fic is amazing in general but i was always super impressed by the work that went into that aspect of it, too.

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

not to put her on blast but @beholdthemem will occasionally spoil me with gorgeous in-depth psychoanalysis about my characters and that always makes me go 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 whenever she has thoughts about something i've written i always know i am going to be given a very special gift!!!!!!! these days we're usually chatting over discord rather than leaving comments exactly (btw if anyone wants to be discord friends always feel free to hmu in tumblr messages) but it still counts!!

that said every comment means a lot to me 😭 especially if it is about how a fic made you feel or a lil bit you really loved or a lil bit of commentary on piece of it. truly i am fueled by comments!! motivated by comments!! and i try not to beg for them but i do need them to keep going!!!!!! so anytime someone takes time to leave a thoughtful comment know that i am thinking about it and going back to read it a couple of times!!

[billyhargrovesbabe]

bump in the night

This is the response to a submission I received, and I absolutely loved it. I honestly had such a great time writing this. I didn’t realize sweet cuddly Billy was what I needed in my life like this until this submission. Or as sweet and cuddly as Billy can be. Thank you to @420keep-dreaming666 for the phenomenal prompt! I hope this lives up to what you were hoping for. Also, this gif is 100% what I believe a hungover Billy would act like.

Ask:

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a Billy x fem!reader where her brother (it can be an oc or someone from the show) throws a party and billy ends up falling asleep in her room, but she doesn’t notice because she’s out with her friends so she gets home and finds Billy just asleep in her room and they’re kinda rude to each other but then it gets really fluffy because Billy’s drunk and opens up to liking the reader for a while. Sry this is all over the place. Thx!

Words: 3,201

Warnings: Lots of swearing, lots of fluff. Do these really even count as warnings?

“Fuck,” you hissed, almost face-planting on the stairs as you tried to creep up in the dark. Your brother, Tommy, had apparently taken advantage of the fact that your parents were out of town for the weekend. Well, you had both taken advantage of that. But your version of taking advantage of it was staying out past curfew, drinking and watching b-rated horror movies with your girlfriends. Tommy’s version was throwing a rager that left your house absolutely trashed. One you had no doubt you’d be left cleaning up tomorrow, scrambling to hide the evidence before your parents got home while he and Carol slept off whatever hangovers they had earned. Sometimes, being the younger sibling sucked. The jackass might’ve only had a year on you, but boy did he milk it for all it was worth.

You managed to make it up the stairs without busting your ass which was honestly a miracle and ducked into the bathroom to take your makeup off. You tried to be speedy, avoiding spending too much time in front of the mirror as that familiar paranoia set in when you spent an evening watching spooky movies. Fuck if you didn’t love them, but they did not love you. Making quick work of your makeup, you crept out into the hallway and left the lights in the bathroom on as long as possible. You tried to ignore the long shadows in the hallway, cast by the window at the other end near Tommy’s room. You could hear a faint, but very rhythmic and very telling, thud thud thud of furniture hitting a wall coming from your brother’s room. Used to that sound by now, you paused just long enough to make sure there weren’t any other creepy sounds lingering in the house before dashing across the hallway. Getting drunk and watching cheesy scary movies seemed like a great idea when you and your girls had been giggling and making fun of the victims in the movies. Now, being tipsy and having to deal with the lingering paranoia, you regretted not pushing for a chick flick instead.

You made quick work of it once you got to your room. You gingerly opened your door, quietly shut it, and practically stripped in your rush to take off everything but your underwear and your oversized t-shirt. You dove into bed, snuggling under your comforter, and sighing at the sense of safety that washed over you. After all, nothing could get you when you were under the protection of your comforter. No creepy crawly would dare disturb the sanctity of the bed.

That was when an arm wrapped around your waist.

Said arm pulled you snugly against a body that definitely should not have been there. Naturally, you did what any rational drunk teen alone in her room after a night of watching other drunken teens get brutally slaughtered on camera would do. You screamed and dove for the closest weapon you could think of in your room. Your hand wrapped around the curling iron on top of your dresser which you always left plugged in not that you were paranoid or anything but this was exactly why. You flicked the lights on, switched on the iron, and turned to face who—or what—ever had dared to ruin your clearly false sense of security.

You watched as a drowsy— and noticeably drunk— Billy Hargrove sat up from your bed. A cold wave of shock and disbelief and a little bit of excitement washed over you as his clouded blue eyes met yours. It was almost surreal, seeing his curly head popping up from where he was snuggly swathed in your blankets. You had no idea how you had missed him before; he was so clearly out of place wrapped up in your pastel bedspread. The two of you sat there, blinking at one another until he finally decided to break the spell in true Billy Hargrove fashion.

“What the fuck, y/n?”

You lowered the curling iron from where you had been wielding holding it out between the two of you, ready to defend yourself should any threat dare to come in reach of the cord. Where the hell did he get off, acting like you had interrupted his night?

“I think that’s my line,” you grumbled at him, finally switching off the curling iron and replacing it on your dresser. “What the hell are you doing in my bed, Hargrove?” His only response was a shrug. One that had you narrowing your eyes at him. You and Billy had never really been close. Once upon a time, when he had first come to Hawkins and didn’t seem to know what he was doing, you had tried to befriend him. But you two had come a long way since then.

You found him trying to pretend he wasn’t lost on his first day, walked right on up to him, and introduced yourself. Your friends had all thought you were insane, just going up to the hot and mysterious new kid like that. Honestly, you weren’t sure why you had. You just felt something in your gut nudging you to do it. You had shown him around that first day, helped him find all his classes, and sat with him at lunch. You even introduced him to your brother, knowing it’d be good for Billy to have a friend in his own year, but not thinking Tommy would demand all the attention of your new friend. He had left Billy alone for the most part in his first day or two in Hawkins. And while you and Billy weren’t exactly attached at the hip or anything, he was pretty nice towards you for the most part and not in that I-only-doing-this-to-get-in-your-pants kind of way. You had hoped maybe you could get to know him. That hope didn’t last long. It was crushed the second the California boy beat out Steve Harrington’s keg stand record. You saw the admiration and basic hero-worship in your dumbass older brother’s eyes as he trailed Billy around for the rest of the party and really the rest of the year like a lost little puppy. Whatever friendship you had with Billy was quickly thrown aside as Tommy countered you at every turn.

Where you’d call Billy out on his shit, Tommy ate it up and cackled at it. Where you tried to have intelligent conversations with Billy, Tommy and Carol brought up all the gossip and bullshit school politics with him. Where you tried to ask him about his life and world before Hawkins, Tommy was happy to just get wasted. You got that it was easier, but fuck if it didn’t sting every time Billy would pick Tommy over you. It made you feel like the annoying kid sister again, trailing along after your cruel older brother and Carol who had always been kind of a bitch to you. You really got fed up with it when they started making jokes at your expense, playing pranks on you and making fun of you for “being in love with the new King of Hawkins.” You weren’t going to put up with that shit even if it was sort of true. So, you cut Billy off. You stopped hanging around the three of them. There was some small part of you that hoped he’d miss you, realize he cared about you when you weren’t hanging around and taking their shit. But it never happened. The jokes started to let up after a while, which was honestly almost worst. It meant when the three of them got a prank in their head, it was especially cruel. And it would be exactly like the three of them to let you find Billy in your bed like he was waiting for you after the party of the year, “hoping to confess his feelings” or some bullshit like that, only for them to make fun of you for falling for it later.

Well. It wasn’t going to work this time. You might like the guy, but you weren’t just going to take this shit lying down.

“You guys really think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?” The exhaustion hit you all at once as you leaned against the dresser, staring the blond in your bed down. You saw the confusion wash over his face, and you assumed his drunken brain hadn’t realized he’d obviously been caught. “What, did Carol and Tommy put you up to it? I bet the three of you are just dying to get something good to hold over me. Maybe you want a juicy piece of gossip about how I gave in to the King of Hawkins, or you're hoping to get blackmail material as I confess some feelings for you in a pathetic way. Well, it’s not going to happen Hargrove. I don’t give a fuck why you’re in my room. I just want you out. Now.”

“What the hell? You’re buggin’.” He slurred a bit as he tried to shoot back at you, but it lacked the usual bite he’d direct your way. Not that it helped. You still snapped back at him with the regular amount of venom you would. You had a fire that could rival Billy’s. All of Hawkins knew it. And you were one of the only people who didn’t back down when it came to him.

“Right.” You took pleasure in the dangerous edge to your voice. It was the kind that had sent underclassmen running the other way before. It was the kind that made Tommy listen to you, Carol worry about the rumors you might spread, and your friends apologize immediately for whatever they had done to upset. You rarely used it, hating the way it made you feel like a bitch, but when you did take advantage of it, people listened. And you were tired of this boy thinking he could walk all over you. Your voice was low, and cold, and controlled. And you milked it. “Because you three never act so casually cruel that I’d have a reason to be suspicious. You’ve never made my day suck just for the hell of it. You don’t make fun of me at every turn for just being a decent person and actually daring to genuinely care about you, do you?”

You didn’t need an answer, but you still waited. You waited until he cut his eyes away, clearly uncomfortable with the situation and knowing there was truth to your words. You relished in it. “That’s what I thought. Bite me, Hargrove.”

Some kind of thought or emotion flickered over his face. His eyes were still murky and clouded, but the self-righteous expression he had worn was gone. He suddenly looked like the young, seventeen-year-old kid he was. Gone was the macho man bravado and badass bluster. Instead, you were left with a Billy you had never seen before. He almost looked... well, vulnerable. His expression was so open as tried to think of what to say next, his eyes so wide as they settled on you, and his hair unruly in a way that definitely wasn’t intentional. He muttered something as his eyes cut away from yours, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“What was that?” You tried to distract yourself. The scare had killed whatever buzz you had left from your evening, but you were still tipsy enough that it was dangerous to focus on your feelings for him too much. Feelings lead to confessions, and you refused to give him and your brother anything else to hold over you. You had tried to make your voice hard and sharp, nagging even. You had a feeling it came out far softer than you cared to admit.

“Used to call me Billy,” he mumbled. You barely made it out this time. You stepped closer when you saw him open his mouth to speak again, not wanting to miss what he was about to say. “You. You used to call me Billy. None of this Hargrove bullshit.”

You laughed in disbelief. “Well, it’s not exactly like we’re friends. You’ve made that painfully clear. Besides, you call Steve by his surname so I figured why not give you a taste of your own medicine.”

“You friends with that asshole?” Billy hissed, suddenly tensing. You could feel the fury slowly begin to boil. It was odd to see someone wrapped in a pastel blanket look threatening, but his quick flare to anger wasn’t anything new.

“No,” you tried to reassure him. Why were you reassuring him? Why should you care? “But he’s friendlier to me than you are. Never made fun of me when he and Tommy were best friends. Not that it’s any of your business.” You hoped that one stung him to hear as much as it stung you to admit. You were all over the place, and you knew it. You didn’t have your normal control around him, the safeguards that protected you from that look in his eyes. The one he was giving you now. The one that was protective, and demanding, and curious all at once. The two of you sat in tense, uncomfortable silence for a while. Your eyes locked with his, and the two of you were left staring at one another. You suddenly registered you were in nothing but your t-shirt and underwear, and you rushed to find some shorts to throw on while covering your chest in the process.

“ ’S not a trick.” You almost missed it as you quickly pulled the shorts off the floor and up your legs. You almost didn’t hear him at all. Almost. “Got sleepy. Didn’t wanna go home. Tommy said I could sleep on the couch downstairs, but...” You waited for him to continue. You hoped the silence would encourage him. When he didn’t finish the rest of the thought, you mentally counted to ten and then finally turned to face him.

“But?” You tried to prompt him as gently as you could. He shrugged, avoiding your eyes.

“Got distracted.” You held your breath, hoping, praying, that wasn’t all he had left to say. You waited and watched as his eyes cut to yours, then away again. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve sworn a blush had spread across his cheeks. You let the silence linger a little longer this time, filling the empty space by letting your eyes trace his face. As the silence drew on, Billy finally grew uncomfortable enough in his drunken state to break. “I found your room. Was kinda hoping I’d find you in it.”

This time, you really didn’t breathe. Your heart raced, and you were so tempted to go to him. You so badly wanted to be next to him, and you were just a few inches from the bed now. It’d be so easy to just lounge next to him and let yourself just settle with that answer. But you owed it to yourself to hear more. Hell, he owed it to you after all the shit he had put you through.

“Why?” This time, instead of just avoiding your eyes, he huffed and scooted himself to the edge of the bed. He looked away from you and set his jaw in that stubborn way of his that said no way in hell am I saying anymore. You were having none of that. “Billy, why?”

He finally turned to you at the use of his first name, just like you knew he would. He swallowed, and you searched his eyes as he seemed to debate with himself over whether or not he should tell you. You implored him with your eyes, desperately and silently asking him to say what you needed to hear.

“Fuck, I can’t say it. I’m not some little bitch.” His gruff response shattered the spell, and he got up from your bed. He moved so quickly, throwing the comforter down and practically sprinting from your room, that you barely managed to grab his hand on his way to the door. He stiffened at your touch.

“Please, Billy. I know you’re not. But I still need to hear it.” Your voice was just a whisper, but it filled the room. You pulled him gently by the hand, and he turned to face you. He kept his head down until he took a deep, cleansing breath. When he lifted his head to face you, you could see the guarded expression on his face. You could see the fear of rejection in his eyes. And once again, he set his jaw in determination.

“I like you, sweetheart.” It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t the blushing or heartfelt confession you used to dream as a little girl about when you imagined a guy telling you he liked you. “I like you a lot. Have for a while now, believe it or not. I know I’ve put you through a lot of bullshit or whatever, but you’re pretty cool. And you’ve got way more going for you than Tommy, or Carol, or anyone else in this shithole of a town. And yeah, I can be a dick, or an asshole, or whatever but--” But it would do. After all, it was Billy.

You didn’t let him finish.

You quickly pressed your lips against his, cutting off his sentence, trying to calm him down, and finally living the moment you’ve been dreaming of for months now. His lips were soft, and he pressed them against yours without missing a beat. You could taste the cheap whiskey he had been drinking and the cigarettes he had undoubtedly bummed that night. It made your heart beat faster. You sighed into him, stepping closer and grasping his shirt desperately with your hands. You worked your lips against his until his arm came up to wrap around your waist. That was when it all came crashing back to you.

“You promise this isn’t a trick?” You rasped the question, out of breath from the kiss but desperate to ask it. You had to be sure. “Billy, if this is some joke or prank, I’m not going to be able to handle it. I can’t just laugh this one off or let it slide. Not after this.”

“Y/N.” His voice was the gentlest you had ever heard it before. “I promise. Now do us both a favor and shut up.” His hand came up to cradle the back of your head as his lips dipped down to meet yours once again. You sighed into it, enjoying the feel of being wrapped in his arms. He walked you back until the two of you collapsed back onto the bed, only breaking to breathe when you desperately needed air.

You let Billy stay in your room, citing the horror movies you had watched earlier as the reason why. After all, you had to take advantage of your parents being gone for the weekend. And you had a feeling Tommy wouldn’t be able to make you clean up the mess from his party tomorrow if Billy was there. Plus, you had always wanted to have a little fun in the back of the blond’s Camaro...

[intothemoshpit]

𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞...

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( acceptable for all readers )

warnings: random headcanons that I think are acceptable. 18+ content mentioned. just too much things to list so be cautious if you're easily triggered and such.

6.8.22, unedited.

sorry for any errors below.

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DATING BILLY HARGROVE WOULD INCLUDE

in the beginning...

him being a dick. when if he decides to date you, he obviously likes you a lot; blondie has made himself a reputation of being a whore and sleeping with people girls like they're a brand new comforter bought for the winter season. but, even so, I don't think he'd bring his walls down right away. he wouldn't be a complete ass, but his attitude his always show off-ish and tone can be quite hard at times.

random mood swings. due to the fact that billy has dealt with both physical and mental abuse, I think it's safe to say his mental health has been impacted greatly from that and has led him to develop mental illness(es) of his own. can't say for sure what, but anger plays a big role in it. he'll definitely snap at you over the littlest things at first.

constant arguments. If you're more closed off, shy and rather not indulge in anything involving shouting, I don't see you stirring the pot more than it already has been. in fact, you get rather shook up and jumpy whenever billy starts shouting over small things. however, if you're the opposite, then I can see things getting bad. nothing physical would happen, but I do believe things can get broke in the heat of the moment.

anxious smoking. since his emotions and thoughts would be bottled up, and he feels as if he can't talk to anyone, including you, he'd always have a lit cigarette to his lips to calm his anxieties. most of the time he chain smokes because of this.

refusing affection. I don't see him giving into any of your touches, at first, unless it's to make out or possibly move further. he releases his anger that way. with other touches, such as hugs, he recoils because he hasn't had someone touch him like that since his mom passed.

random side eyes. since billy knows he isn't the greatest person to be with, he always feels immense guilt after arguments or snapping out on you. he tends to give you side eyes and brief glances, while considering an apology.. maybe something more. of course, nothing ever goes further than that.

little pda at school. while we know hargrove loves to touch and show off anything that's his, when it involves a fresh relationship, I just don't think he'd be too romance-y and such at first. of course, I see him having a hand in your back pocket upon first entering the school, but once you two split for classes that would be done with until you two are alone again. and, perhaps throughout the day, he'd give you a tiny peck on the lips two or three times.

him being overly jealous. he still lets you have your own freedom, as in he's not up your ass about everybody, but if someone even speaks to you in a slightly flirtatious manner, he's by your side with a sickly sweet smile, silently fuming, with a hand wrapped around your waist. I think I can all say he won't necessarily make a scene unless the person doesn't take a hint and back off.

questioning your whereabouts. if you leave his side after school, not to go back to your own place, billy has the habit of questioning where you're going. it may come off as toxic, maybe it is but in reality he's worried... and kind of insecure, but you didn't hear it from me. this also connects with just any time you aren't with him, or by his side; expect phone calls to your house.

later on...

he doesn't yell at you as much. while I very much think billy has anger issues, and mood swings and sometimes can't control, I can see him realizing later on just how badly he mistreats you and picks fights. he'll slowly start to catch himself mid-yell and stop, before walking off to go have a cigarette to calm his nerves. the days also seem to carry on more peacefully; more with him starting to come around, and less arguments.

talking with you. before, billy would just smoke twenty-four-seven to the point where the ashtray would be filled with eight butts within twenty five minutes. later on, though, he cuts down on smoking - deciding that maybe, if he verbalizes to you what's wrong, he'll become less snappy. it works most of the time... but he's extremely awkward with speaking about his feelings and problems, so expect pauses in between.

being more physically loving. billy will definitely come around at some point and let you touch him. maybe it still does make him slightly uncomfortable, but after a bit he becomes touch starved and often finds himself either laying his head in your lap, so you can play with his hair, or he finds every excuse to hug you from behind. it's definitely a turn around, not that your complaining though.

apologizing more. he, in fact, is not too good with apologies. billy gets real awkward and tends to trip up, and word things wrong. but I definitely think, at some point, he gets better with it; would sometimes pair the apology with a small gift, like a stuffed animal or your favorite flower. or, even, he might show you he's sorry by physical convincing you with sweet yet alluring kisses.

more pda in public. by time he's come around to be a better boyfriend, I already see you both out of high school. this means less small pecks in the hallways, and more hand holding and shared kisses at the pool, and other public places. usually, at the pool, billy will take you off guard when you're searching for him and wrap his arms around you from behind. this follows up with him lifting you off the ground, and twirling you around until you get done screaming your head off. expect him to try and push you into the pool once or twice, too. out of there, he often holds your hand; caressing his thumb over your knuckles absentmindedly as an instinct to make sure you're alright. more physical teasing tends to be shared as well, because he just loves making you flustered.

less controlling and more trusting. while billy would still get jealous at times, he'll loosen up at some point and not question where you're going. the only way he would, is if it's suspicious; you leaving in a rush and not mentioning for what, as an example. I also see him, at some point, giving a very bad apology about being a dick about questioning you in the past. the fact that you won't be too bothered by it at that moment in time, will ease him and make him put more faith into you.

him taking care of you. we all obviously see billy ass this tough guy who who's one massive asshole. but, even though that is kind of true, I don't think he'd be the kind of boyfriend that lets his girlfriend's wounds go untreated. if you get into a fight or an accident happens, involving physical injury, I see this man becoming insanely worried on the inside and instantly pulling you to the bathroom. your set onto the sink, and only seconds later would your wounds be addressed. as a bonus, if it involves a fight, expect him to go after that person.

being protective. billy has a thing where he refuses to let people mess with what's his. he's very protective of you, so if the wrong guy says the wrong comment, expect a fight to break out. or if a jealous bitch says something way out of their range, expect him to go off with his own out of pocket comment. he doesn't let anyone pick on you, and he sure as hell will go ballistic if another human being touches you in anyway without your consent.

him sprouting random ideas when high. for some reason, I see blondie as a goofy dude when he's on cloud 9. he'll speak shower thoughts, things he's just never said out loud before but would surface due to his brain being elsewhere. in my head, he'll definitely mention getting matching tattoos more than once - however, since he's gonzo, he'll suggest the dumbest shit. you always bring it up later on just to tease him, and he becomes a pouty bitch that gives you the silent treatment.

him meeting your family. when this option hits the table, he's not too thrilled at first; hargrove just isn't too good with families, so meeting his partner's would be... awkward. very tense, in his mind. though, I do see him trying his best to be good. to your guardian(s), if they're nothing like his father is, I can see him attempting to strike an actual conversation with them to possible get on their good side. he won't suck up, but he'll definitely be out of character. if you have any younger siblings, billy will definitely make an effort to get along with them and maybe form a small bond.

him making up with max. this alone would be a difficult subject for him. in order for him to do this, he'd have to explain everything to her.. which he wasn't okay with doing at first. after some convincing from you though, and shared kisses and praising words, he finally gives in. it's kind of sloppy, and billy messes up with his wording a few times, but eventually he explains to max why he was such an asshole to her. in the end, the two become acquaintances that soon lead up to a beautiful friendship.

I feel like there is way more that can be said, but for now I'll leave this here. I think I pretty much summed it up how I see billy as a partner. hopefully, it's not too bad.