insomniacpen's masterlist
19 ✧ she/her ✧ welcome to my blog!! i love nostalgia, art and overanalyzing all my favourite media which is why i write. my guidelines for interacting with this blog r here, pls lmk if u want to be added to a taglist ♡
Sade Olutola
official daine visual archive
Doug Jones
No title available
occasionally subtle

if i look back, i am lost
h
Mike Driver
NASA

Product Placement
The Stonewall Inn
𓃗
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
todays bird
Interview Vampire Daily
macklin celebrini has autism

izzy's playlists!

No title available
seen from Brazil

seen from Netherlands
seen from Qatar
seen from Italy
seen from Bulgaria

seen from France
seen from Colombia

seen from Brunei
seen from Netherlands

seen from Malaysia

seen from Vietnam

seen from France

seen from Malaysia

seen from Türkiye
seen from South Africa

seen from United States

seen from India
seen from United States
seen from Colombia

seen from Netherlands
@insomniacpen
insomniacpen's masterlist
19 ✧ she/her ✧ welcome to my blog!! i love nostalgia, art and overanalyzing all my favourite media which is why i write. my guidelines for interacting with this blog r here, pls lmk if u want to be added to a taglist ♡
guide
blurbs = <1000 words
oneshot = one part
multipart = ~3 parts
series = >3 parts
⭑.ᐟ = personal faves
༄.°𖤓‧✧˚࿔
steve harrington (stranger things)
just you (oneshot) - established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort
⭑.ᐟ lonely's not that bad with you (oneshot) - friends to lovers, mild angst but honestly just fluff, hurt/comfort
savior complex (multipart) - friends to lovers, fluff, angst, season 5 rewrite ✧ complete
everything i touch (ask) - established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort
careful (oneshot) - established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort
let you down (multipart) - hurt/comfort, angst without a happy ending
no big deal (ask) - established relationship, fluff, hoh!steve
the sound of heaven (blurb) - fluff, desi!reader
༄.°𖤓‧✧˚࿔
robin buckley (stranger things)
⭑.ᐟ don't ya steve (multipart) - friends to lovers, fluff, mild angst ✧ complete
harrington (ask) - friends to lovers, fluff
༄.°𖤓‧✧˚࿔
gator tillman (fargo season 5)
⭑.ᐟ salvation (series) - 18+, enemies to lovers, ANGST, hurt/comfort, heavy plot driven smut ✧ complete
damnation (series) - 18+, established relationship, ANGST (again), salvation pt2
slow (oneshot) - 18+, established new relationship, smut
ace (ask) - 18+, friends to lovers, plot driven smut, fluffy
phone call (oneshot) - 18+, friends with benefits, smut
baby (multipart) - 18+, established relationship, heavy angst ✧ complete
here again (series)- 18+, exes to lovers, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, plot driven smut ✧ ongoing
sour cream and onion (ask) - blind!gator, established relationship, angst, fluff
big tough deputy (series) - 18+, sex worker reader and client gator, heavy smut, angst, dark themes
wisdom teeth (blurb) - established relationship, fluff
nightmares (oneshot) - established relationship, fluff
maybe next time, maybe never (multipart) - chronicallyill!reader, fwb to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort
gator and his rejected police dog , part two (blurbs) - fluff
horror movie night with gator (blurb) - fluff, hurt/comfort
༄.°𖤓‧✧˚࿔
travis (teacake) meacham
teatree (oneshot) - meet cute, fluff
teacake’s arm veins (blurb) - 18+, fluff, smut
༄.°𖤓‧✧˚࿔
weevil navarro (veronica mars)
backslide (oneshot) - 18+, exes to fwb to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, plot driven smut
sleeping together (but not like that) (oneshot) - 18+, childhood bsfs to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, plot driven smut
#poetic cinema
hi lovely, congrats on 4k!!!
can I get a hazelnut latte with this prompt; “repeating "don't stop" like it's the only language left in your mouth”, hot please!
𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐔𝐏! - CRUSH
visit gray’s 4k cafe | frat!gator tillman x female!reader
gator makes you ride his hand until you admit you have feelings for him...
tags: [smut, MDNI] [frenemies with benefits/fuckbuddies] [frat!gator] [fingering] [orgasm denial] [catching feelings] 1.5k words
“Don’t know what you’re fuckin’ whinin’ for,” Gator drawls, calmly raising his vape to his lips as if his hand isn’t currently down your pants on the couch, fingers deep in your wet cunt. “You’re the one who wanted to watch a chick flick instead of fuck.”
You open your mouth to defend yourself, but all you can do is whimper as his fingers press deeper, rubbing at that spot yours can never seem to reach.
You’re practically lying in his lap now, embarrassing as that is, and you aren’t even supposed to be doing this again.
You had the dorm to yourself for the night with all your roommates gone for the weekend, visiting their folks or boyfriends—and you had moment of weakness.
You dialed Gator Tillman’s number.
You’d convinced yourself that it was just to talk, hopefully clear the air about what happened last time the two of you hooked up.
But when the knock sounded and the door swung open, revealing Gator in a tight white T-shirt, and a backwards hat, sucking on that vape pen…you knew you were in trouble.
And you were right.
The last twenty minutes have been torture, thanks to him bringing you to the edge twice, but not letting you go over.
You hate to say it, but honestly, you deserve this punishment.
You know better than this. You know what he does to you. It’s just…well, you’re ashamed to admit that this hot, football quarterback, fuckboy is like your own personal drug.
Because even after months of going without this, you haven’t stopped craving him for a second.
He strode into your dorm like he owned the place, boots heavy on the cheap wood paneling, and you scrambled to turn something on the TV—anything—just to distract yourself from the urge so to jump his bones right then and there.
Now, the TV light flickers across your dark dorm as the movie drones on, but you aren’t watching it. You’re too entranced by how thick Gator’s fingers feel, lost in the slick, sucking sound they make as they slide back into your cunt, lazily burying themselves to the hilt.
God, this was such a bad idea.
Because now that he’s here, smelling like his woodsy deodorant and watermelon flavored vape, you really, really just need him to lay you down and fuck into you hard and deep. Like he used to.
Before you screwed everything up.
“Fuck, Gator, I just—” you start, but his palm grinds into your clit, and it’s so big and warm, it has your head tipping back against his shoulder. “I-I changed my mind, okay?”
No. Bad. Very bad.
His bicep presses into your cheek, and you feel yourself slipping.
Stop. Remember last time…
Gator looks down at you, his hazel eyes flicking over your face, watching your eyebrows scrunch and your lips purse.
His mussed hair pokes out of the hole in his backwards ball cap, and there’s a little stubble on his cheeks and chin, like he hasn’t shaved for a few days.
The sight makes the sharp ache build between your legs as you imagine what that stubble would feel like rasping against your inner thighs.
He doesn’t say anything, but his fingers keep stroking your walls, making your breath stutter and your eyelids drop to half-mast.
He watches it all, then pinches his vape pen between his lips and reaches down with his other hand to untuck your necklace from your shirt. The chain whispers over the dialogue in the movie, and he drops the silver charm on top of your tank top, resting it right between your heaving breasts.
You’ve always worn a necklace with the first letter of your name as a tiny charm. He used to grab a hold of it with his teeth as you rode him in your bed.
The memory makes something in your chest twist, even as your thighs tremble around his hand, your back arching off the couch.
“Gator,” you pant. “Just f-fuck me—”
He takes the vape from his mouth and when his tongue darts over his bottom lip, hope surges through you like an electric current, lighting up your veins and making your blood sing.
But instead of hauling you into his arms and taking this to your room, he just exhales a cloud of vapor through his nose and turns back to the movie.
“Nah.”
Your stomach plummets.
“What do you mean ‘nah’.”
Gator twists his wrist, driving his fingers deeper and tearing a torn sob from your throat. “Don’t hear from you fer months, and then you—” he pauses, and you hold your breath. “Tell me why I’m really here, or I ain’t fuckin’ ya.”
His words fall over you like a heavy blanket, hot and suffocating. Both your mouths settle into thin lines, and you turn back to the movie, unwilling to put voice behind what’s really going on between the two of you.
Like how the last time he was here…you kissed.
You didn’t mean to. Not really. But he’d had you on all fours in your bed, driving his hard cock into you over and over, his hips smacking against your ass. And when he reached a hand up to tangle in your hair, drawing close to whisper in your ear, you turned your head a little too far—and then you were kissing.
His lips were warm, and softer than you expected. But what really surprised you was the way he reached for you, curling his hand around your throat and holding you there, like he was afraid you’d pull away before he did.
It’s your own fault, really. Getting your heart involved. Stupid.
Everyone knows the cruel fuckboy, football quarterback, and resident jerk, Gator Tillman, doesn’t do girlfriends.
Still, what’s happening now…it doesn’t track. You’re practically begging him to take you apart on his dick, and Gator—the guy who chastises you if you’re not already naked when you open the door for him—is holding back now?
Why?
“What do you want me to say?” You quip. Your voice is harsh, bordering on annoyed, but his thumb presses into your clit in response and your vision goes fuzzy. “W-want me to s-say I have a crush on you or something?”
His shoulders stiffen under your head. “Nah—who the fuck said that?”
“Well, you—“
He scoffs, cutting you off. “Y’know, if you’re gonna be a fuckin’ brat, I could just stop right now.”
“Stop?” you squeak.
“Ya heard me. Not a peep fer months, and then you wanna act like everything’s the same?” His fingers go still inside you. “Should just leave ya with nothin’.”
Panic flares up in you, and you grab his forearm to keep him there. It’s second nature to avoid his wrist, that joint that still gives him trouble after he broke it last year playing football.
“Please,” you beg. Embarrassment flares hot inside you, but you still tip your head back to meet his gaze. “Don’t stop.”
His lips twitch. Not good enough. Your hips roll hesitantly into his palm, but he still lets you ride his hand until you’re throbbing again, pulsing around his fingers.
You’re just at the brink of tipping over the edge when his fingers go still again.
“Gate,” you whimper. He exhales softly at the nickname for a split second and looks away. You knew it would do that to him. “Please don’t stop.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” you sigh, voice tight as you scramble for the words, “I want you to—”
“Say it again,” he says, cutting you off.
Your gazes lock again.
Someone in the movie laughs uproariously at something, but neither of you care to look. Footsteps carry through the dorm halls, followed by the slam of the door, and still, his eyes stay on yours.
But when your cunt flutters around his fingers, and his eyes drop to your lips, it’s that look right there that makes you finally realize what he’s after.
“I want you.”
The words leave your trembling lips in a whisper, but they scratch your throat—too raw, too…loud.
You shouldn’t feel this way about him.
But, God, you can’t help it.
“Yeah, ’s what I thought,” he sneers, but it doesn’t hold the heat he thinks it does, because his fingers resume their work inside you, and his palm meets every thrust of your hips now with a softness that wasn’t there before.
Your hard nipples rub against your tank top as the pleasure crests and your breathing picks up—
Suddenly, he pulls away.
His hand leaves your pants, ripping your orgasm out from under you again like a rushing tide with nowhere to crash.
A broken sound escapes you, and you reach back for him on instinct, but he stands before you can grab him.
“Fuck you,” you grit out, panting and wound up.
He snorts. “‘S what I’m tryna do.”
His broad chest rises over you, blocking the light of the TV, and then he surprises you by slipping his wet fingers into his mouth.
You stare at him, hair mussed, jaw agape. “What?”
His lashes flutter for a split second at the taste of your arousal before his hand drops and he’s moving.
“C’mon,” he grunts, striding towards your bedroom and snatching his vape on the way. “After three months, you’re crazy if you think I’m gonna let you come around anything but my cock.”
a/n: thank you to @keeryspullman & @tellcherhesgone for inspiring me with their posts about frat!gator!
gator masterlist | visit the coffee shop | go to gray's 4k event masterlist
so steve harrrington holds hands durning sex…. 😩
hello! I know you’re under no obligation to do this but please can you do a little summary of Salvation? I loved it and can’t wait to start the sequel but I don’t remember a lot and can’t really read it again :(
hiya!! im gonna try my best but obviously there's gonna be a SHITTONNE of random callbacks to salvation in the new series so i won't be able to capture it all but here we go!
our girl meets gator in the middle of the night and he immediately arrests her for vandalizing roy tillman's billboard in drunken rage. she spends the next few days locked in a cell at the sheriff's department, watching their daily operations and noticing things about gator — how desperate he is to please roy, how weirdly curious he is over her sick mother, and most of all, that he — just like everyone else in town — is terrified of his father (though he would never admit it). so when roy humiliates him in front of the whole squad, she can't help but feel sorry for him, leading to the two of them sleeping together right there in the jail cell.
they both expect they'll never see each other again, and go about their lives. gator tries to impress his dad by solving the shooting of one of his fellow deputies but its going about as well as everything else he does. she gives him a tip on the case in exchange for the reassurance that there were no cameras in the cell that night yet again, vowing to go their seperate ways. she is spiralling over her multiple-day arrest, leaving her on shaky ground with her two jobs, overworked on college, and looking after her brother and sick mother (who roy tried to kill five years ago for protesting against the tillmans). when gator shows up at her door questioning her tip and lies about who he is to meet her entire family, she's already mad. she's humiliated when a phone call from her boss comes and she starts crying in front of him. of course, he comforts her the only one way he knows how.
that's how they officially start sleeping together.
it's just sex, they tell themselves. she's not teaching him how to break free from his dad's reigns and he is absolutely not teaching her how to be soft. just sex. it can't be anything more with her worst enemy.
even when he shows up drunk at her doorstep after the worst day of his life and they spend the next day together with her family.
she spends her birthday completely alone and missing the life she had before her father died and her mom got hurt. and it's that night that her armor cracks, and she breaks down in gator's arms, admitting that she can't handle her life right now.
so he makes it his mission to help her. notices every tiny thing she does and fixes it with sex, always. overtime, gator gets close with her brother (under the identity of mike) and even attends her graduation when no one else does. they're two lonely people, but maybe they can be lonely together. it's in the tillman home that gator almost confesses that he loves her.
but then roy discovers them. and like always her loud mouth and rage land her in trouble. but this time — for the first time ever, actually — gator stands up to the man that was once his idol. roy and gator get in a fight and she's forced out of the house, not knowing what happened to him.
disgusted by the fact that she got gator hurt, and terrified that roy will come after her now, she decides there's only one solution — pack up her family and run.
meanwhile, gator managed to survive the fight with his father but has no idea what happened to her, because roy promised to kill her. karen, taking pity on him, left the number to an fbi agent and they work together to take roy down. he begs them to make sure she's ok and they agree on the condition that he won't go see her.
gator's never been good at listening, though.
though he is relieved to see her alive, when he discovers they're leaving, the two get in a huge fight. gator tells her she needs to stop pretending to be superior, she blows up at him for still wanting his father's affections and reveals that roy is the one that injured her mother to him.
after their fight though, her mother reveals she knew who gator was this whole time and trusted her even when she didn't trust herself. they still have to run, but she also has to be honest with what she feels for gator. he may be a tillman, but he’s nothing like roy.
they meet at the place he's been hiding out and make up, and he begs her to stay just one more night if she can trust him. and for the first time in a long time, she does. the next day, the tillman ranch gets raided and roy and his closest associates get arrested and put away for life.
gator, her and her family go into witness protection and settle down together.
DAMNNN ok that was longer than i was expecting, but a recap is a recap. i hope this helps!!!
THE SOUND OF HEAVEN
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: steve is obsessed with the sound of your jewellery
word count: 800
warnings: pure fluff, steve is head over heels for reader
⋆⊱༻𖥸༺⊰⋆
The first time he hears it, he’s in the back of Family Video, restocking the shelves. The chime of the front door as a new customer steps in seems to echo across the room, but he brushes it off as a boredom-induced hallucination. Except, as he goes back to work, he keeps hearing it. It’s light and airy, like wind chimes that tinkle from a distance. His heart drops a little, wondering if that ringing in his ears is coming back again. And little by little, the sound gets closer.
“Excuse me?” He jumps at the voice, turning around to see you. And suddenly it clicks.
Your arms are lined with bangles of every color and size — some big, some small, some shiny and some with gemstones. “That sound was you?” He blurts out, relieved that it’s not his mind playing tricks again, but also forgetting he’s meant to be serving a customer.
Your face breaks out into an awkward smile. “Uh...” “Sorry, that came off ruder than I meant it to.” He blubbers, a little shy and no idea why. “I…I think I like it.”
You chuckle again. “Um, thank you?”
“Sorry.” He repeats, feeling the blush creep up his neck. The cramped aisle doesn’t leave too much space between you, and he’s noticing your pretty eyes, and the curve of your nose and-
“I was wondering if you were hiring by any chance?”
Steve pounces on the opportunity shamelessly. “Yes! Absolutely we are!” Keith’s going to kick his ass for that, but he can deal with it later. Especially when he sees a genuine smile break out on your face.
“Awesome, well…” You turn to your bag, digging through it to fish out what he assumes to be your resume. The entire time, he hears the jingle of your bangles hitting against one another especially when you excitedly pull it out and hand it over to him. The light brush of your fingers as the paper exchanges hands makes his blush grow tenfold. “Hopefully I’ll see you around…” You glance at his badge. “Steve.” And as you turn on your heel and exit the store, Steve isn’t sure what sounds better — your jewellery or his name coming out of your mouth.
⋆⊱༻𖥸༺⊰⋆
The answer is that it’s the sound of your jewellery.
That’s what he determines once you start working at Family Video. When the doors open at the start of an egregiously early morning shift, and you wave at him with the most heavenly sound in the world, he thinks he can deal with the next few hours. No matter what he’s doing, or where in the store he is, he can hear the airy chimes of your hands as you float around the store, serving customers at the counter, laughing at Steve’s jokes in the break room .
He starts noticing — the ones you wear everyday (which you tell him are your grandmother’s) and how you always match the others to your outfits. He loves how such a small thing lets yourself be loud and unapologetically you.
Especially, when you’re angry. Maybe that’s an awful thing to say, but when you’re angry, that’s when you talk with your hands. He watches the flurry of colors flying this way and that as you rant about how Keith’s got you on a new schedule that you hate. He’s like a cat with a lazer pointer, following the dancing light. That ringing sound used to be his worst nightmare. But you, singlehandedly made it his dream.
“Steve.” You snap your fingers in front of his face. “Are you even listening to me?” You laugh.
“Hm?” He blinks himself out of his trance. “Yeah, totally.”
Your eyes drop away from his when you whisper. “I thought you’d be more upset.”
“Upset?” He furrows his brows.
“We’re barely going to have shifts together anymore.”
Steve’s heart sinks at the thought.
But maybe, there’s a solution. Something he’s been putting off for far too long. “You think I only wanna see you at work?" He shakes his head. "We can hang out. Say...this Friday? Dinner?” He bites his tongue.
You straighten, a smile growing on your face. “Yeah, that’d be amazing.”
And now, even if he doesn’t hear those bangles around the store, the beautiful sound fills his house. His heart still when he hears it, knowing his girl is there.
Because soon enough, that’s exactly what you become. Well, he calls you his girl, but if he’s honest, he belongs to you — completely and totally.
When he hears that familiar jingle, he’s basically running to it like the world is going to end. It never does. You just greet him, with a sweet smile and soft peck to his lips. And then he slips his hand in yours, and the twinkling sound becomes both of yours. His own little slice of heaven.
⋆⊱༻𖥸༺⊰⋆
steve harrington taglist:@thesecretoftheswan, @wolfiee10, @aecd27 , @louisbelongstome28 , @ophirei, @beth-mirrorball, @purrsonline, @s3xytosomeone, @st4rg1rl88, @scaramou, @purplequeen64-stuff, @bluezzzzzz, @lacyiris, @cpnsteverogers, @keerygirlie98, @veeweepeeknee. @calelundaa, @floravyn, @pookiebear69004, @harringtondarling, @kurtsw7rld96, @hanasgardens
is this a safe space to say that so anxious by ginuwine is the perfect representation of gator tillman and his (horny) attachment issues
s1, e4 - the body
steve harrington x fem!oc
season masterlist
summary: steve takes care of bella after the events at the quarry, she finds herself in an interrogation at school, and jonathan byers sees through her. also, mrs morgan makes an appearance (bella’s life couldn’t get any worse) (it’s about to get worse)
content/warnings: you guys genuinely.. idk. very canon typical warnings. emotional cheating by Steve, slight enabling by Bella
a/n: no way we’re halfway through season one… what the hell😃 I’m so hooked on these two it’s not even funny… I think abt them 24/7. a little season two title hint moodboard coming soon. there’s also not a lot of Steve in chapters 4 and 5 so a lot of this is going to be my brain headcannoning what he would’ve been up to and also giving Bella some of her own plot points to grow her character beyond simply being Steve’s bestie. enjoy!
-
Once the sobs slow their waves over Bella’s body, Steve gently ushers her inside his house. She feels almost numb as he walks her up the stairs and to his bathroom, handing her a towel and spare clothes before asking her if she wants anything in particular for dinner. She shrugs and says she’s fine with whatever he’s got laying around.
He clicks the bathroom door shut quietly and she gets into the shower, letting the water warm her bones. She uses Steve’s expensive shampoo and savors the way she’ll smell like him for a while. She avoids shutting her eyes for too long, the images of the body being pulled out of the water still too fresh in her mind. Once the steam fogs up the glass door and mirror, she shuts the stream off, wrapping herself in the fresh towel Steve had gotten out for her, changing into an old pair of her own cotton shorts and one of Steve’s old park district shirts.
She smiles as she traces her fingers along the hem; memories of the two of them in co-ed basketball two summers ago flash through her head.
She heads downstairs, skin glimmering from the nice skincare products Laura always leaves extras of in Steve’s bathroom. The smell of frozen pizza fills the living room as Steve stands in front of the open ones, wrestling the corner of a crust with his tongs. Bella leans against the counter, smirking at him as she watches him carefully pull it out onto the cardboard box it came in.
He turns around and startles. “Jesus, honey!” He grunts, setting the pizza down on the mat before turning around to get his own. He grabs it with a more fluid motion and shuts the oven door. He turns back around and she approaches him, eyes softening as she gets closer.
“Feeling better?” He asks. His voice is delicate as he runs a hand up her arm. She looks down to track the motion, goosebumps following the space, before her eyes flick back up to meet his. He drops his hand to his side.
“Yeah, a little. Thanks for letting me stay, Steve,” she says, reaching over to grab slices of the pizza onto her plate.
He shrugs. “This is basically your house too, Bella. You wanna watch a movie?”
Steve puts in a VHS of Raiders of the Lost Ark and gets out the fluffiest blankets his parents own— ones that they definitely should not be eating on, but they’ve been doing this since they can remember and know how to hold their plates so that no crumbs fall over.
Steve sits next to Bella. They both smell like his shampoo. They eat quietly, Steve getting up to grab them both seconds and after a short while, the pizzas are gone and they pause the movie to put their plates away and brush their teeth. They meet back on the couch, all of the lights in the house off save for the lamp next to Steve. Steve and Bella melt into the plush cushions of the expensive couch, bellies full and hearts a little lighter than before.
Steve looks over at Bella as another action sequence flickers across the TV screen. “You sure you’re okay?”
She blinks. “I dunno. It was jarring, seeing that body get pulled out of the water like that. I mean—It was definitely Will, unless some other kid went missing recently. And all of the boys had to see that firsthand—I just, I don’t know,” the ramble comes out in a long exhale and she chuckles at the end of it, but sobers up quickly.
“I can see them reeling his body out of the water every time I close my eyes,” she whispers, taking a sudden interest in the movie. Steve doesn’t stop looking at her, how the light dances off of her face. He doesn’t quite know what to say, but he leans in to her until their arms are squished against each other.
“Try now,” he whispers.
“What?” Bella tilts her head as much as she can from her position, legs extended in front of her on the large ottoman, upper body almost fully leaning into Steve’s side.
“Close your eyes. See if you can sleep this way.” Next to me he thinks.
Steve can feel her hesitate for a second before she melts into him, closing her eyes. In a matter of minutes, Steve feels her breathing shift into something heavy, and his chest tightens at how safe Bella must feel with him. The same torturous feeling from the night she told him Jonathan asked her out snakes its way up his chest as he looks down at her peaceful features. Steve can’t place what he should do with it. Instead, he simply leans over, careful not to startle Bella, and turns off the lamp before settling back against her and letting sleep take him, too.
-
Bella wakes up slowly, the brighter morning light disorienting her until she remembers where she is. Her and Steve have shifted on the couch overnight so that Steve is fully laying down, and she’s piled on top of him against his side. She can feel his soft breaths lulling in and out against his ribs. The events of last night come rushing back in and she sits up, startling him awake. His face scrunches adorably as he rubs his eyes.
“Mm, g’morning. What time is it?” He manages, voice rough with sleep. Bella tries not to imagine a world where this was their routine every morning as she glances at the clock on the wall.
“6:15,” she whispers, getting up off the couch and leaving the warmth and smell of Steve behind. “I’m gonna run to my place real quick because I’m pretty sure I’ve run your house dry of my spare clothes in the past three days. Pick me up in 30?”
Steve blinks, drowning in blankets, still getting his bearings on the world. “Sure, honey.”
Bella gathers her belongings and walks over to her own house. She enters through the garage and stops at the kitchen to check on the state of things. The bananas are overripe enough for her to bake with, the milk isn’t bad yet. She needs to go to the market this weekend for produce.
She flips the lights on and opens the blinds to breathe some life into the rooms as she makes her way upstairs into her own. She dumps the contents of her backpack onto her bed, thankful that she was carrying light. One of her textbooks has water damage at the corner and her paper lunch bag is soaked to pulp. Carefully, she draws the textbook open where she tucked the scraps of Jonathan’s photograph. By some miracle, they’re dry.
She grabs the scotch tape from her desk and fits them together. The image comes back together; her and Steve in the air, Nancy in the pool, the faint blueish green hue of the pool lights illuminating them. Bella finds herself smiling down at it, tracing a finger along the edge, before snapping out of her daydream and quickly tucking the image away in her nightstand.
She changes, still fresh from her late night shower at Steve’s; opting for her favorite pair of jeans and a chocolate brown knit sweater. She brushes through her hair, unruly waves of it that have minds of their own, and ties it half up with a silk ribbon.
She’s running back downstairs with some change for lunch as Steve is pulling up to the driveway. She clambers into his car and he hands her a jimmy dean sandwich. She accepts graciously and digs in.
“Have you heard from Nance?” She asks as he drives the familiar route from their street to Hawkins High.
He shakes his head. “She didn’t even call yesterday. I think I really fucked up breaking Byers’ camera, honey. Freaked her out.”
Bella’s quiet for a moment, mulling over whether or not to reveal her conversation with Nancy to him. She glances over at him; shoulders tense, fingers drumming an anxious beat into the steering wheel.
“I don’t think it’s just that. Before she left the game, she told me that she called the Hollands during school. Barb never went home after the party. So… that, plus the news about Will… I’m sure she’s just shaken up.”
Steve sighs. “Shit. What the—what the hell is this week, Bella?” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it.
She shrugs. “I don’t know.. a weird one, for sure.”
Steve pulls into the front of the lot, parking the beamer one handed as he finishes off his own sandwich. “Well, as weird as it’s been, it’s been nice to see you a little more, honey,” he looks over at her and smiles that sweet, boyish grin she’s grown so used to over the years.
Her cheeks warm as she smiles back. “Yeah, ditto, Harrington. Didn’t realize how much I missed hanging out with you until now. Thanks… for everything last night.”
He pinches her arm affectionately, making her let out a squeal and shrug away from his grip.
“See you later Morgan,” he says as she closes the passenger door and walks inside. Steve lets himself stare a second too long before following suit.
-
Bella parks herself at her locker before free period, dialing in the combination and yanking the rusty metal door open. A leaflet falls out onto the books she’s carrying. She furrows her brows as she opens the trifold:
Student : Mirabella Morgan, ID 000271896
Please report to Gymnasium B to speak with Hawkins PD at 10:00am
Bella furrows her brows at the note as she checks her Casio. 9:45. She puts her books away and heads to the smaller of the two gyms, heart rate spiking on the way there. The gym has been set up with rows of desks, a handful of people milling about: guidance counselors are talking to some kids and their parents in one corner. Bella sees a very tense looking Karen Wheeler sitting at one of the desks closer to the policemen, an exasperated look on her features as she jots something down in her pocketbook.
Bella approaches the table with the two police officers and the guidance counselor. She sets the paper down gently. “Uh, hi, I was called here?”
The taller officer stands. “Right, hello, uh, Mirabell? I’m Officer Callahan, this is Deputy Powell. We’d like to talk to you about the party at Steve Harrington’s house a couple of nights ago,” he gestures to the desk chair. Bella sits hesitantly.
“Mirabella—Bella. Shouldn’t my mom be here for this or something?” She asks.
The guidance counselor cuts in gently. “We gave her a call.. she said she’d prefer that you answer these questions on your own given the urgency of the situation.”
Bella feels sweat prick up the back of her neck. “Urgency? I… it was just a small hangout. Party is kind of overselling it. It was a total of six people.”
Deputy Powell jots notes of her words down as she talks. Officer Callahan leans forward. “So, take me through the timeline of events. When did you show up at the party?”
Bella sighs. “Probably 7? I don’t have the exact time. But around then. It was just me and Steve for like 15 minutes, then his friends Tommy and Carol showed up. And then probably around 8 was when Nancy and Barb arrived.”
Officer Callahan’s ears practically jump at the mention of Barb. “And it seems that everyone spent the night at Steve’s house except for Barbara, correct?”
Bella shook her head, eyes darting past the policemen to Karen Wheeler a few desks down. “No… um, it was just Steve and myself. Everyone else left, but I’m not sure when. I fell asleep around 10:30 and when I woke up, everyone else was gone.”
The officer’s brow quirks at her. “We’ve already spoken to Tommy, ah Hagan and Carol.. Perk-Perkins. They mentioned Nancy Wheeler spent the night with Steve Harrington?”
Bella feels the flash of irritation at both Tommy and Carol not being able to shut their mouths and at the insinuation the line of questioning brings against Nancy. She clenches her jaw but forces herself to be calm.
“Steve asked Nancy to go upstairs so he could get her a change of clothes. We were all pretty cold from jumping in the pool. He got me a change of clothes to sleep in, too. But Nancy went home, and Steve drove me to school the next morning.”
“And Steve is your… friend, correct?”
“Best friend,” Bella finds herself correcting immediately. “We’ve lived two doors away from each other since we were in third grade.”
Officer Callahan looks at Deputy Powell, who nods, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “Okay. Thanks for taking the time, Bella. You can go back to class,” he says.
She stands, grabbing her things and heading back to her locker, mind racing. Overwhelm didn’t begin to describe what she was feeling. She was upset at her mother for making her do that interview alone, although she didn’t truly believe having her mom there would’ve helped. She was confused about the line of questioning and the insinuation that Nancy was somehow at fault. Something familiar fluttered in her chest at her correction. Best friend.
She sighed, glancing at her watch again. 10:47. The thought of having to survive an entire day of class was too much to bear. She’d been thinking of Jonathan since the quarry and figured he probably wasn’t at school that day. She grabbed her backpack out of her locker and walked out of the side doors to the parking lot. The sun warms her skin as she looks around, figuring the best direction to take on the way to the Byers’. She traces over the $20 in her pocket, figuring she could treat herself to a nice lunch on the way, she decides to take the path through the main part of town.
As she’s rounding the larger gym, she runs face first into a speed walking Steve. “Whoa!” He yells, steadying her with his hands on her shoulders. “Oh, hey Morgan,” he sighs.
She glances behind him to see Nancy’s retreating figure. “Careful, don’t wanna sound too excited to see me,” she quips.
“Sorry. Just…did you know Nancy went back to my place to look for Barb yesterday? And now the police want to talk to all of us? I swear if this gets back to Dad, he’s gonna lose his shit.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Did they talk to you, yet?”
Bella cocks her head, trying to keep up with his rambling. “Wait… what? Nancy went back to your house?”
“Yeah. While we were all at the game, she went to my house and tried to look around in the woods. Even says someone was back there, that she heard something. I don’t know.. there’s always kids fucking around in the woods. And for her to go back there and not tell me? I’m—it’s just a lot.”
Bella feels her head spin. Someone in the woods behind Steve’s house, Mike’s not-cousin supposedly knowing where Will was when he went missing… it was enough to send the familiar tingle up her spine; the roar in her ears. She shakes the thought as best as she can.
She frowns. “She didn’t tell me anything yesterday except that Barb never went back home. But, I don’t know, Steve, cut Nance some slack, okay? She’s worried about her friend, and from what they asked me in there, it sounds like they’re trying to excuse it as a girl fight, or whatever.”
Steve’s brow knits together. “What?”
“Like, Barb was upset that Nancy ditched her to spend the night with you, so she left and got into a car accident or something.”
Steve just throws a hand in the air, exasperated.
“Look, I agree that she should’ve asked you before going, but she’s just nervous, and worried about her friend, okay? Did you fight with her about it, like, just now?”
Steve looks sheepish. “How’d you know?”
Bella smirks, nudging him with her elbow. “Cause I know you, silly Stevie. You had your whole sad eyes look going on.”
He chuckles, shaking his head as he looks over in the direction she was going. “Ditching?”
She nods. “I need to go find Jonathan. After last night I.. I just need to.” Her voice is quiet.
Steve quints his eyes but relents after seeing her shrinking in on herself. “You’re too good for this world, Morgan,” he says, patting her back. “Ring my house if you need anything. Mom’s home.”
She nods a thank you and waves him goodbye, making her way out of the school campus and towards the main road.
-
Bella makes it over to the town center, trying to decide if she should stop for lunch before continuing her walk to the Byers’. She’s about to cross the street when she hears commotion near the funeral home.
She turns to see Jonathan standing in front of his mom’s car, the two of them in a heated exchange. She picks up the pace, approaching them.
“…Well, while you’re at home talking to the lights, the rest of us will be here in the real world, planning a funeral!” He yells. Bella looks at his hands and sees that they’re shaking. Joyce puts the car into drive and peels out of the parking spot so quickly, the tires leave marks on the pavement. She watches Jonathan run a hand over his face as he looks around at the gawking faces before turning around.
“Yeah, shows over,” he bites, approaching his side of the crosswalk as his eyes land on her figure. He pauses for a moment, fumbling over his feet before continuing forward. She knits her hands together, fingers picking at themselves nervously as he draws nearer. She lifts a hand in a small wave.
“Hi,” she whispers.
He stops in front of her and sighs. “Hey.”
They look at each other for a moment. The November breeze causes her to shiver. “Listen, uh, I saw the news.. I’m, well, I’m really sorry Jonathan. Sorry doesn’t even feel fair to say, like it’s too small of a sentiment. But, uh, I am,” Bella manages.
Jonathan nods towards the entrance of the funeral home. “Here, do you wanna—?”
She nods and lets him open the door for her. “I’m waiting for an appointment, uh, here,” he gestures towards a bench at the front and the two of them sit.
“I take it your mom isn’t doing so well,” Bella offers. Jonathan scoffs. “Yeah, that’s one way of saying it. She says Will’s… in the walls. That he’s still alive, still talking to her through the lights. So.. I’m.. here. Looking at coffins—“ his voice breaks, and Bella puts a hand on his shoulder.
“—looking at coffins for my dead brother while everyone else just gets to go about their lives.”
“I’m sorry, Jonathan. I don’t—I don’t know what else to say.”
Jonathan turns towards her sharply. “Why are you even here, Bella?”
She rears back. “What?”
“Why are you even here after what I—what I did?” His voice is a whisper.
She pauses, taken aback. “I.. you’re.. we’re friends,” she says dumbly.
They’re quiet for a beat until she speaks again. “Why… why did you do it?”
Jonathan shakes his head. “It was fucked up… I don’t know. I guess. I was walking through the woods, looking for my missing brother, catching shit for it all day, and I just stumble upon this… this idyllic scene of American Teenagers,” he holds his hands up as if showing a marquee.
“And… I was jealous. Jealous that people get to live normal lives, have normal problems, and I’m…I don’t know,” he shakes his head.
“Alone,” Bella finishes.
Jonathan chuckles. “Don’t hold back.”
Bella giggles back before she sobers. “You shouldn’t have taken that picture of Nancy.”
His face turns dark. “I know. I know. I fucked up. I saw the way she was looking at you and Steve. And her face in the window… she just looked…”
“Looked what?” Bella’s voice shook.
“She looked lonely. Like, this girl trying to fit in with this crowd that.. she wasn’t sure she wanted to be in.”
Bella felt tears prick at her eyes and looks between her knees. “Well, I doubt she’s lonely. She’s dating Steve. She has friends. Siblings. Parents. The works,” she scoffs a little and regrets it immediately.
“Bella?”
She looks up at Jonathan. “What?” She whispers.
His eyes meet hers, both of them red rimmed from unshed tears. “How long have you been in love with Steve Harrington?”
The question feels like someone punched her soul from her body; the very thing she’d been running from all of these years. Her eyes search Jonathan’s face frantically for cruelty, for a smirk, a crinkle in his eye, any semblance of malice. But he sits there, somber and stock still.
“I…” Her mouth opens and closes, searching for words that never come; an excuse, a denial, an accusation, anything, until a ding of the front door pulls them both out of their reverie as they snap their heads up at the sound. Nancy Wheeler rushes through the doors, a crumpled up sheet of paper in her hands.
“Oh! Bella, Jonathan, hey. I was just coming to talk to you,” she nods towards Jonathan, then hesitates. “But… I can call later, now’s probably a bad time anyways.”
“No!” Bella finds herself speaking. “I was just leaving. He’s all yours, Nance. I’ll see you guys later, okay?”
They say their goodbyes, Jonathan’s gaze lingering on her as she rushes out under it, from the building.
She hopes he doesn’t see her harshly wiping away the tears that fall as she skates by the front windows of the home and back down the street towards her house.
-
By the time she gets home, her body feels worn down, bones aching and head heavy from the week’s events. She notices the Escalade parked in the driveway and the living room light casting a warm glow outside of the window. “Great,” she mutters, straightening her sweater and rubbing a hand over her face to appear fresher than she feels.
She unlocks the door and toes off her boots, setting her bag down next to them. She walks through to the kitchen, where her mother sits, drinking a cup of tea. “Hi sweetie,” she coos. “I’m sorry to pop in without calling, but… there’s something we need to talk about,” she says.
Bella takes a seat across from her mother and waits for her to continue. “Your father took a permanent job in Arizona. I’m here to get some more of our things and fly out there to meet him,” her mother says in her perfectly manicured tone.
Bella blinks. “Uh, okay, so what, what are you saying?”
“Your father and I.. we won’t be returning to Hawkins for… quite some time.”
Bella gawks at her mother for a moment before pulling out a chair and sitting down hard onto it. “What does this mean.. for me?”
“You could come with us, if you’d like. We’d be moving at the end of your current semester. Or… we can keep this house and you can live here.
Bella scoffs. “What… on my own?”
Her mother looks around. “Well, I think you can certainly handle it. And your father and I would pay for your expenses, of course. Including when you pick a college next year,” and then, she has the audacity to smile, clasping her hands together in front of her chest. “You should be proud of yourself, Mirabella. So accomplished and independent at just 17. Your father and I are so proud of you.”
Bella sits still, at a loss for words. Her mother stands, giving her a brief kiss on the cheek that she barely returns, and heads for the door. “I’m staying at the hotel in town. I’ll be here until Friday. You can tell me your decision then. Goodnight, sweetheart.”
And with that, the door swings shut, leaving the house empty again, Bella stares at the foyer — her shoes and backpack in a pile near the door, the faint smell of tea in the kitchen, her mother’s daisy scented perfume — and feels utterly, completely alone.
just a reminder when you’re on my page 🫶🏼
i am not a gossip blog, i am a fanfiction blog! fanfiction is completely made up stories about a person or character. that is what i like 🩷 there is a line between real and fake, and between fan and parasocial fan.
right now, joe has a very active stalker. she is going to shows saying joe personally invited her, going near his personal home, stalking anyone around him in order to get closer. several celebrities have been offed by these parasocial fans, who claim to have a deeper connection to their celebrity of choice.
because of this, we need to be careful about what we share online. fanfiction is fine. everyone knows it’s fake. it’s intended to be read as a made up story.
when we see anonymous tips about intimate details about joe, we have to be the gatekeepers and choose joe’s best interest over our own horny minds. he deserves that respect. if someone posted that he was out on a date at a location RIGHT NOW, ask yourself - would i share that? knowing that fans near him might crash his date? all for the sake of me knowing personal information? or do you keep it to yourself, and it may not even be a real tip, but you decide to honor joe as a human instead of an object.
that is what we should be doing in this fandom. not spreading misinformation as if it’s god, not exposing intimate details when that was born out of a place of trust (i hate the take of: what guy wouldn’t want to be told he’s good in bed? you’re missing the point. completely.)
you don’t have to agree with me, but we have a choice. we can be a normal fan who reads/writes fanfiction (completely made up and everyone knows it) that can still drool over this man while still respecting him (he wants us like this!!! he loves us being horny and creative!!!) OR we can spread intimate details about the celebrity while actively having to acknowledge he has a stalker and it’s not a safe time for him right now and we should be protective about what we share online that is labeled as truth.
i thought this conversation was dead and gone, but i received an anonymous dm who was talking about it. i didn’t post about it when the shit started coming out because i don’t want you guys to think all i do is get myself in trouble on here, but now that it’s personally touched my page? now you know. if you want to chat about possible intimate details of joe, go somewhere else.
i’m not trying to call anyone out, but i will try and make you see a different perspective. 🫶🏼 i say this completely out of love and i have close friends on here that disagree with me and it doesn’t change a thing with my love for them 🩷 this is all from love and as a friend, to try and respect the person we all admire and foam at the mouth over lol.
I really appreciate your writing. It brings me joy. (If big tough deputy has no fans - I am dead).
People that write fanfics and put them out into the world for free are such angels. We’re lucky for whatever you want to give us. So I, for one, welcome a new fic you’re excited to write, no matter what.
I hope this comes off as encouraging and supportive. I get so annoyed at the anons that feel entitled to free work and it’s making me feel some type of way.
oh my goodness this is so very sweet 🥹 i really, really appreciate it. i love sharing my work with you guys and i know that unfortunately, it can take me a while to finish those works and i never wanna dissapoint y'all 💕
not to get too personal, but especially with fics like here again, they're very much drawing from bits and pieces of my life and as great at it is to share that, it also means that sometimes, it can get a lil heavy to write them and i need breaks 🤞
just know, i love everyone that reads my works and i am genuinely trying my best to finish and write what i can at a genuinely GOOD quality that you would enjoy reading and i would feel comfortable sharing.
thank you so so much for your support and this goes for every writer on here!! they're doing this for free!! comment on author's works, send them a supportive message in the ask box, silently lurk if you're too scared to do all that but whatever you do, don't pressure or criticise these people who are giving their spare time to share their works with us 🫶. to every creator and reader on here -- i hope you all know how loved and appreciated you are!!
ty sm lovely, this meant everything genuinely 💗
DAMNATION
*.༄⋆✴︎˚。⋆ series masterlist *.༄⋆✴︎˚。⋆
part two to salvation
pairing: gator tillman x fem!reader
summary: it's been three years since you and gator made it out of lehigh. three years free of roy tillman's iron fist. both of you relearning what it means to be a family. but no matter how far he runs, gator will never be able to wash away the sins of his past life. and you? you may have escaped the cage, but you're still handcuffed to him.
tags: 18+ mdni, established relationship, BIG BIG BIG ANGST, kidnapping, held hostage, manipulation and blackmail, graphic depictions violence, generational trauma and cycles of abuse, grief, themes of religion/religious trauma
status: ongoing
*.༄⋆✴︎˚。⋆ chapters
ch1: ghosts in the walls
taglist (comment on masterlist to be added): @thesecretoftheswan, @lacyiris , @i-love-dilfs, @matttmurdock, @robimobi, @projections-mortal, @joecooll, @calelundaa, @s3xytosomeone, @louisbelongstome28
GHOSTS IN THE WALLS
damnation ch1 - series masterlist
pairing: gator tillman x fem!reader
summary: witness protection has treated you well, all in all. you've settled in to your life in new england, but it's not without it's struggles. as much as he tries, gator can't stop himself from being haunted by his ghosts. like there are eyes always on him. and maybe...he's not wrong.
tags: 18+ mdni, established relationship, ANGST, cute domestic fluff too, explorations of grief, finding a body, sibling tension, very lightly suggestive content, car crash
a/n: oh my goodness!!! i'm so excited to share with you guys the visions that have been haunting my mind. just a warning: this series gets QUITE dark, but it's all worth it in the end. thank you to anyone who reads :))
*.༄⋆✴︎˚。⋆
For a long time, your life had been built of maybes. Maybe you wouldn’t have enough money for rent this month, maybe your job would get sick of your attitude and fire you, maybe the next person you met would break your heart.
You’d built your walls so tall and decided those maybes would turn into whens. If pain was inevitable, you might as well act like it had already happened.
But time, and people — one person in particular — had managed to break that entirely. Your days were no longer spent trying to find the maybe’s or the when’s, waiting for a past you thought was doomed to repeat. Far away from those stories and places, you could look to the now. You could hope for the future.
That’s why this evening, as you pulled up to the farm, you could stare at the sunset in awe — pinks and oranges streaking across the sky in a sight that made your jaw drop. Back when you lived in Lehigh, you never had the time to stop and enjoy the little things like that, but now, the sunsets were your favorite part of the day. Still, though, you were ready to go home, and the person you were waiting for was still nowhere in sight.
But you had a sneaking suspicion of where he was, so you stepped out of the car and headed for the now-familiar barn at the edge of the property.
Sure enough, was crouched in front of the red doors, feeding pieces of chicken to a border collie that sat at his feet. Little chuckles fell from his lips as the dog pounced up, gobbling up each piece of meat. Ok, maybe you couldn’t be mad at him for being late. “I know my cooking is bad, but you don’t have to give it all to the dog.” You smirked, placing a hand on your hip. At the sound of your voice, Gator’s head snapped up, the guilty smile on his face all too obvious. “You’ll be done work by five, huh?”
“Hey, I did finish working at five. But Buck here was hungry.” He scratched under the chin of the dog, the pants of satisfaction from the creature making him smile. “The asshole kid didn’t even feed ya all day, huh, bud?”
Gator had told you about his boss. He was a young kid actually, who only bought the farm as an “investment” for his internet career. He’d spend his days filming the place and acting like he was a dedicated farm owner while the farm hands worked their asses off trying to keep the animals alive.
It pissed Gator off to no end, especially when it came to Buck.
You crouched down next to the two, and immediately the dog was jumping up, sniffing at your face. “Ok, ok.” You chuckled, leaning back to avoid the licks to your face. Gator finally managed to tempt him away with another piece of meat and the dog eagerly jumped back into his lap.
“Now I ain’t even gonna see you for two whole weeks.” He sighed, giving the pet more sweet chin scratches. You never saw him smile as big as he did when he was with this dog.
Just seeing it made you wonder… “Hey, what would you do if we had our own?”
“What?” He snorted. “Like a dog?” You couldn’t stop the way your lips curled a little. He shifted when he noticed your face. “You mean it?” His voice immediately went soft as he asked it, like a little kid who was too scared his toy would be taken away.
“Ok, ok. I said if.” You laughed, though recently, the thought did make you just as excited as Gator. “But I mean, it’d be nice, right?” You bit your lip before you said the next thing. “Might fill some empty space.” That's when the silence fell over the two of you, and you felt Gator's pitying eyes on you. He reached over, lightly squeezing your thigh because he knew you wouldn’t give him your hand.
All you could do was give him a small smile back.
*.༄⋆✴︎˚。⋆
The house was quiet when you two got home. It kind of always was now. No TV droning from the back room, not a conversation being had. Tyler was draped over the couch, headphones on and eyes glazing over as he stared at something on his phone. Gator got that mischievous smirk on his face at the sigh, slamming the door just to see if it would scare him. But Tyler didn’t even flinch.
“Tyler.” You called, but again, he didn’t move. You let out a short, sharp breath and Gator could see you trying to hold back the eye roll as you pulled the headphones off his ears.
“Join us for dinner. Got the sweet potatoes fries you like.” You dangled the greasy takeout in your hand, a desperate smile on your face. “No thanks.” Tyler said, already looking back to his phone before he even finished the sentence.
“Did you eat yet?” You tried, only to get a dismissive wave back as Tyler's eyes stayed fixed far away from you. Gator had had just about enough of this, reaching over and snatching the phone out of his hands. “Hey!” Tyler pounced off the couch. “What the hell man?”
“Your sister’s talkin’ to you.”
Tyler gave him a knowing face back. One that said, “You know I don’t care.” One that Gator knew you saw too.
“Y’know what? It’s fine.” You shook your head, beginning to unpack the food on your small dining table. “More for us, I guess.” The boxes hit the table with far too much force, the grease of the takeout flying across the tablecloth.
Gator crossed his arms in challenge. “No, he doesn’t wanna eat, that’s fine, but he should sit with his family at the table. It’s only right.”
“What the hell did I do to you?” Tyler cried out.
"Go sit-"
“Gator.” You snapped, a warning. That was the tone you got when he was acting too much like Roy. The one he dreaded the most. Biting his tongue, Gator handed the phone back to Tyler. He took it and spun on his heel with a grunt. Not a second later, the sound of his room door slamming reverberated through the house.
The boards of your home creaked out alongside your heavy sigh. And then it was back to the electric silence your house became so familiar with recently. The one that Gator wasn’t sure would ever leave again.
He had spent most of his life without knowing what a family really was. Every day in his house was spent looking over his shoulder, a silent prayer not to be hurt in one way or another. The last few years had felt pretty darn close to that dream he once had as a little kid watching those sitcoms.
But in your mother’s absence, everything had changed.
*.༄⋆✴︎˚。⋆
Gator could always hear it when you were worrying. It was in the the slightly stilted breaths that slipped past your lips, the way you blinked a little faster to keep up with the speed of your stresses, the wet squelch of you biting the inside of your cheek again and again till it hurt too much to do so. The sound of your thoughts were deafening in the quiet bedroom, as you lay staring up at the ceiling. He knew this look. Knew the way that you were lost in your mind, beating yourself up over things that weren’t your fault.
And luckily, he knew exactly how to fix it too.
“Hey.” He whispered, voice low as he leaned into your neck. The taste of your sweet skin greeted his lips after what felt like a century of thirst. You let out a shaky breath at the contact. The past few weeks hadn't exactly left any room for romance. It’s not like he was upset about it, not really, but god, did he miss you like this.
Then he felt you squirm.
“Gator.” You turned away slightly, but your voice sounded as disappointed as he felt. “Not tonight.” With a small, apologetic smile, you leaned over to switch off the lamp on your nightstand. And you didn’t turn back.
Quietly, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Neither of you were good with words. This was the only way he knew how to stop your brain, so what the hell was he meant to do now? He stared at your silhouette in the dark. Truthfully, he couldn’t stop thinking about it either. That day.
Gator was in the gym, sweat beading down his forehead, pushing all his frustrations in to the weights. He didn’t wanna be mad. Goddamnit, he didn’t want to. But after a driving lesson with Tyler, the car was left with a shiny, new dent on the side of the door. And there was no trusty rifle to take his anger out on. Still, he’d managed to bite his tongue, head spinning with the hundreds of dollars he would have to pay for that dent. And worse...with his reaction. One more second and he might just have blown up at Tyler, just like Roy.
That’s when the phone call came.
Tyler made a sound that Gator had never heard before, and would never forget. Gator rushed home, where the ambulance was already sitting in the driveway. Then it was sirens, paramedics. Having to call and tell you. You whispered that it should’ve been you, not Tyler. That car kept the dent for the past month, he was more worried about fixing the wreckage of the two of you.
Only, the damage seemed utterly irreparable.
No matter how many times he tried to piece the two of you back together, it felt like he was stuck in a burning crash. One caused entirely by his family. A few years ago, Gator was watching that man he dared to call a father destroy everything in his path with stars in his eyes. He was, however much he tried to deny it, an eager foot soldier in the war against your family.
You breathed heavily, and even with your eyes closed, he could see the spiral unfolding in your mind. And he wondered…what if you were thinking it too? That this was all Gator’s fault?
He pulled you a little closer, tucking his head into the crook of your neck so he could inhale the scent on you. Soft lavender, still. It was the now familiar smell and your slow breaths that reminded him of the ground that still remained below him. You picking him up from work, nights of greasy takeout where you had each other’s orders memorized, the quiet weekends that you actually got to yourself now.
It was shaky for now, but it was there.
He could make it steady again.
*.༄⋆✴︎˚。⋆
For most people, sleep was a quiet escape. A moment to slip away from the worries of the world, to forget. But some nights, for Gator, sleep was the thing he looked forward to the least. Hour by hour he was plagued with memories — guns, blood, flashes of Roy, pacing footsteps. Footsteps that went back and forth, back and forth. They didn’t sound like they were in his brain. They sounded like…
Gator rubbed his eyes, trying to bring himself to reality. Steady ground. He glanced to the door and saw exactly where the sounds was coming from, his chest squeezing. You were sound asleep beside him and he silently prayed it would stay that way as he slipped out of bed. He held his breath as he tiptoed down the hallway, already terrified of what he was going to see.
There, in the room — the one none of you had dared to go into for the past few weeks — Tyler was moving around, stuffing clothes and books and everything else he could into a random cardboard box. Gator lingered at the doorway. “What’re you doin’ kid?”
“Cleaning.” Tyler responded through gritted teeth.
“It’s midnight.” Gator took a cautious step into the room.
“Well, someone’s got to.”
Gator sighed, “She just needs some time.” And so do you, he thought.
“It’s been a month.” Tyler spat back, ripping another top off its hanger. “What, does she think Mom’s coming back? She’s not. I saw her with my own two eyes.” Gator sighed, that sound playing in his head yet again. “Gator she’s- Mom! Mom, please- I think she’s…” You wouldn’t have guessed the rosy cheeks or teary eyes if you looked at Tyler now — face flat as he stormed around the room, pulling tops of hangers aggressively.
“Sit.” Gator commanded, and to his surprise, Tyler joined him on the bed, shoulders slumped. Gator sucked his teeth, trying to figure out what to say. What did an actual pep talk even sound like? He sighed. “Why you tryin’ to throw this shit away?” Tyler’s jaw tensed. “Forgetting isn’t gonna make you miss her any less.” He could’ve told Tyler that all it would do was build a rainy tornado of anger inside him. That he would be left with an embarrassingly big hole in his heart and no way to fill it. That forever, he would be left missing the memories he chose to let go of and would hate himself for doing it. Instead, Gator just said, “Think she’d want you two fighting like this?”
“She’s dead. What does it matter what she wants?” Tyler retorted instantly, sounding much more like you than he’d ever care to admit.
“What if she’s watching you, hm?”
Tyler rolled his eyes. “You and I both know that stuff’s not real.” Gator, truly, wasn’t sure. His whole childhood he’d been told it was true. But then, he’d also been told that the very man that sent your mother into an early grave was on a fast track to join her up there in heaven.
“Hit the hay, huh?” He gave Tyler a soft pat on the back. “We’ll figure this out when we get back.”
The two of you were going on a long overdue vacation. Three years living in New England, and you’d just earned enough to get away. You were still terrified of leaving Tyler alone for this long. He, on the other hand couldn't wait for you to leave. And Gator? Well, Gator just wanted it all to be over. Maybe the space would do you some good in the end.
There was one thing you had now, that you never did before — time.
*.༄⋆✴︎˚。⋆
The next morning, you and Gator managed to drag yourselves out of bed early in the morning, and to your surprise, Tyler was even waiting to see you guys off. Bags stuffed in the truck, snacks filled to the brim, and you were ready to go.
Well, almost…
“I made enough food for a few more days, but if you need any money, just tell me.” You were barely halfway through your list of instructions for Tyler and he was already done with you. “No parties, ok? And I know football’s important but you better get all your homework done and- “
“Alright, alright baby, he gets it.” Gator pulled you back towards him. “Relax. ‘Member we’re meant to be on vacation?”
“‘Scuse me for not wantin’ to return to a burned down house.” You tutted your tongue with a small smile on your face. Tyler didn't smile back. Or playfully roll his eyes. He was completely checked out, like always now, so you left him with a weak, “Call me if you need anything, ok?” He gave you a half-hearted nod that made your stomach twist. But just as quickly, Gator was taking your hand into a reassuring squeeze.
Reluctantly, you sunk back to the car, stepping into the driver’s seat. You watched as Gator ruffled Tyler’s hair playfully. “Be good, kid.”
“Not a fucking kid.” Tyler lightly swatted his arm away with a little smirk.
“Hey! Swear jar.”
You bit down on your cheek, trying to ignore the sting in your chest watching the two of them. You weren’t used to it — letting yourself feel the loss for as long as you had with your mom — but Tyler seemed to resent you for it, and you had no idea what to do.
*.༄⋆✴︎˚。⋆
“Alright, what is it?” Gator sighed, forcing you to turn towards him for the first time in an hour. “Did you guys do all your road trips in dead silence when you were little too?” You swallowed, knowing he was right. “So, are you gonna avoid my pretty face the whole way there or tell me what you’re thinkin’ about?” He asked, as you pulled to a stop at a traffic light. You were in the middle of nowhere, you had no idea why they even put these up here. Maybe the universe knew just the perfect ways to torment you. Because the few seconds you stayed there, all you could feel was Gator's gaze fixed on you.
You never would have told anyone else — God, it was one of the pettiest thoughts you’d had in a while — but he had that stupid look in his eyes. The one that made your tongue slip of it’s own volition and admit things you probably shouldn’t have. “That day…” You breathed as you drove through the green light. “He called you, Gator. He called you and not me.” As much as you loved him, to hear the news from Gator’s mouth and not your brother’s, to only get back once the body bag had long been carted away…it made you miserable. You didn’t even get to say goodbye. And worst, it was all your fault that Tyler saw that. “I shouldn’t have taken that overtime.” You shook your head. “If I had just-“
“What?” Gator snapped, his volume making you pause. “If you had just what? Cause Tyler could’ve still made it home before you. And so what if you found her instead? You think that’s gonna make him any less mad that she died in the first place?”
You shook your head. “He didn’t deserve to see that though-”
“And you do?” He snorted. “You drive me nuts y’know? Make no damn sense, sometimes.” He dramatically crossed his arms like a little kid, genuinely frustrated at the thoughts that tormented you. Only Gator could bring the sunshine to your self-pitying rainstorm, and make you smile right now.
You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Don’t need to make sense to you.” He reached over with a chuckle, his hand finding it’s familiar place on your thigh. Something that had now become a comfort for both him and you.
Yeah, shit was tense in your house right now, but that’s exactly why you were getting this — some time away for just him and you. To breathe. And Gator was right there, always proving that you weren’t alone, and never would be again. If you closed your eyes, you could actually imagine the other side. The three of you becoming a family again.
“So, were you serious about getting that dog?” Gator smiled, knowing exactly how to pull you out of your dread.
“Depends. What breed d’you want?” You didn’t get a response, just silence, and when you glanced over you could see just how hard Gator was thinking about it, his eyes sparkling at the thought.
The answer left you stunned. “How ‘bout a shelter dog?”
You glanced to him with a laugh. “Since when’d you get so charitable?”
He shrugged. “I like those little mutts.”
“The purebred Tillman wants a mutt?” You gasped dramatically. “What has the world come to?”
“Oh yeah, y’ think you’re real funny, don’t ya?” He shared in your smile though his grip got tighter on your thigh just slightly. “Just wait till we get to that hotel room.” You shook your head in offence, though your smile had only grown bigger along with the butterflies in your stomach. Not just at the thought of that hotel room in a few hours, but at the thought of the future you had waiting when you came back.
“Should we check some shelters when we get back then?”
You expected him to meet you with the glee, but as you turned back to him, you didn’t see a smile at all. His eyes were blown wide, and he screamed, “Angel!”
But it was too late.
Something hard was slamming into your body. You flew forward. Tires screeched, your body throbbed and then…
Nothing.
*.༄⋆✴︎˚。⋆
When Gator opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was blood. He couldn’t tell if it was his or yours. His vision was cutting in and out, head pulsing with pain. Car doors flung open. A man pulled your unconscious body out of the car. Hands were grabbing at his own. He screamed. These weren’t paramedics. He tried to wrestle out of the hold he was in. A man pushed back and his face met the gravel. Something fell to the ground in front of him. Through his blurred vision, he made out a cap, and three simple words.
Stark County Sheriff.
*.༄⋆✴︎˚。⋆
taglist (comment on masterlist to be added): @thesecretoftheswan,
Back To ‘85: Out Of Reach
Steve Harrington x fem!reader 2k words
warnings: time travel au, angst, strangers to lovers, tension, arguing, season three adjacent
Back To ‘85 | Part 1 | Part 2
After finally cracking the Russian code, you grow one step closer to possibly getting home. But as Dustin catches on to Steve’s growing feelings, during a dangerous stakeout a familiar crack in reality sparks the first real tension between you
“Excuse me, Ahoy!” Robin sighed, turning away from where you were sat on the other side of the counter, the translated Russian message spread out in front of you while your pencil tapped impatiently against the paper. “I’d like to try the peanut butter chocolate swirl, please.”
You raised your head to gaze at the short girl that had come barging in like she owned the mall, a whole hurdle of her own friends standing behind her. “No, more samples today.” Robin denied firmly.
The girl didn’t look phased at all, if anything, she only took it as a challenge. “Why not?” She cocked a brow.
“Because you’re abusing our company policy.” Robin drawled lazily, you bit back a smile, barely listening as you traced another circle around the words. You’d read the words so many times they were beginning to lose all meaning, there had to be something you were missing.
The girl sighed loudly, looking around the parlor. “Where’s the sailor man?” She demanded, making a look of amusement come over both your faces, it seemed like no one ever remembered Steve’s name.
“Sorry, he can’t help you.” Robin shrugged with a small smirk. “He’s busy.”
“Busy with what?” She continued to ask, crossing her arms.
“Spycraft.” Robin turned back to glance at you, where you shook your head laughing to yourself.
Meanwhile, on the lower levels of Starcourt, sat Dustin and Steve where they were not so discreetly hiding behind a bush. Steve lowered the binoculars with a frustrated sigh. “I’m not even sure what we’re supposed to be looking for.” He complained.
Beside him, Dustin didn’t even bother looking away from the crowd, trying to spot what he thought looked the most like a spy. “Evil Russian spies.” He answered.
“And exactly how am I supposed to tell who's an evil Russian spy?” Steve asked unenthusiastically.
“Tall, blond, not smiling.” Dustin listed off the top of his head. “Also, look for earpieces, cameo, duffle bags, that sort of thing.”
Steve groaned under his breath before scanning the crowd again, using the Henderson boy's little amount of information to help him out. Families wandered between stores carrying shopping bags, teenagers ran around, nothing looked suspicious, nor remotely Russian. “I think we’re wasting our time.”
Dustin scoffed, yanking the binoculars out of his hands. “Dude, you are the worst spy in history, you know that?” He spat, rolling his eyes.
But Steve couldn’t help his thoughts drifting away for just one second. Back to yesterday, the short conversation you had over a bowl of cereal, the way you’d shyly smiled at him after he’d called you pretty. He shook his head, trying to regain focus.
“What?” Dustin asked, noticing the distraction.
“Nothing—it’s nothing, let’s just keep looking for the spy.” Steve brushed off, hoping his ridiculous costume covered up the blush creeping up his neck.
“You were smiling.” Dustin flashed him a toothy grin, having a vague idea of why that was.
“I wasn’t.” Steve objected too quickly, avoiding eye contact.
“You definitely were.” Only a pause went by before the younger boy couldn’t help but speak his thoughts aloud. “Thinking about how you called the time traveler pretty yesterday?”
Steve’s head shot up so fast he blew their cover. “What?” He exclaimed, wondering for a split second if Dustin had some sort of mind reading powers.
“You heard me.” Dustin replied. “I think someone might have a crush on her.”
Steve exhaled a sharp breath, wishing he was anywhere but trapped here right now. “She’s from the future.” He shook his head.
“Excatly, isn’t that so cool?” Dustin grinned.
Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “Besides…” his voice grew quieter. “She probably has someone waiting for her back home.”
Dustin frowned, turning towards him. “What do you mean?” He asked in a more serious tone.
“I don’t know, a boyfriend or something.” Steve tried shrugging casually, though the words tasted strangely bitter on his tongue. His head instinctively raised upwards, squinting to look towards Scoops Ahoy, where you were inside. “She’s got an entire life forty years ahead of us.”
Dustin studied him for a long moment. “You’ve got the perfect girl standing right in front of you—”
Steve scoffed. “Dustin.”
“—And you’re talking yourself out of it, Steve!” He continued, not seeing the problem.
“Oh please, says the boy who found his girlfriend at camp Know…Nothing?”
Dustin glared at him, shoving his shoulder forcefully. “Camp Know Where, actually.” He corrected. “And Suzie is the perfect girl, minus the part where she’s from our time.”
Back upstairs, Robin had joined you in the back, practically singing to the code to each other to find any hidden meaning. “D’ya think we’ll ever crack it?” She asked.
You sighed, not wanting to think of what would happen if you didn’t. “I don’t know—but it’s the only way.” She knew what you meant. “There hasn’t been any clue about how I got here since the day you found me. And, out of all places, I fall into the back of an ice cream parlor?” You frowned.
Robin's expression lit up, giggling to herself. “Wait, that is actually really weird, weren’t you—”
But before she could finish her sentence, a sharp knock came on the back door, making you jolt slightly. “Delivery for you.” A man called out from behind.
Robin pushed herself off of the counter, going to open up the door. “Thank you.” She took the package, but when the delivery guy nodded, turning around to leave, she lingered in the doorway.
“Robin?” You called out, watching her focused expression.
“A lynx.” She said, staring at where he had walked away, more specifically, the silver lynx patch that was stitched into his uniform. “…No way.” Her eyes suddenly widened.
“What is it?” You called more urgently, standing up to join her.
“The silver cat…” your breath caught. She pointed wildly towards the patch. “That's it!”
You stared at the embroidered lynx, then back at the whiteboard, then the uniform. Your heart began hammering loudly as you gave Robin the same knowing look. “Oh my god.”
She grabbed your wrist. “I cracked it!” She yelped, a urge smiling painted on her face as she guided you out of the shop.
“You cracked it!” You screamed in response, feeling delighted.
At that exact moment, Steve and Dustin had just entered with their shoulders sagged, having no luck whatsoever. “What’d we mi—”
You and Robin bolted past them, both of you sprinting so quickly Steve had to stumble sideways to avoid being knocked over.
“Hey!”
“What’s happening?” The boys called out in unison.
Neither of you answered, racing into the center of the food court, scrambling onto one of the benches overlooking the whole mall.
“A trip to China sounds nice…” she stared up at the imperial panda restaurant while you faced the other direction, back pressing into hers.
“If you tread lightly.” You finished, pointing up at the Kaufman shoes store, located right above.
You both turned, gasping at the sight of the clock in front of you. “When blue meets yellow in the west!” You both completed the code, heart souring when you realized your accomplishment.
You threw your arms around Robin without thinking, maybe you weren’t so stuck after all, hope reignited in your chest. “We did it!” She hugged you back just as tightly, laughing amongst yourselves like lunatics.
“We actually did it!” She shouted, as the boys found you jumping up and down.
“What are you two doing?” Steve asked loudly.
“We cracked the code, dingus!” Robin answered him, Dustin’s brows fleeting upwards.
Steve watched you smile brighter than he’s ever seen before, for a second, he found himself smiling too. But then he remembered why you were smiling, and somehow, the thought that this might really be the thing that sent you home didn’t make him feel relieved, it made his stomach sink.
The excitement from cracking the code hadn’t faded, but it had changed. Now, standing around the counter as the mall slowly emptied for the evening, the air felt heavier with the weight of what would happen next.
Dustin thought to himself quietly for a moment. “If we’re right, whatever this is happens tonight.” He muttered.
Robin leaned opposite him. “What are we supposed to do?”
“We stake out.” He answered. “The trucks start pulling in at nine, so we get there on the dot and hide somewhere with a clear view of the loading dock, and wait.”
Steve let out a dry laugh. “Great plan, except for the small problem that if they see us, then we’re doomed.”
“Then just run, Steve. Make yourselves not get caught.” Dustin explained like it was obvious.
Steve still looked unconvinced, turning to see your eyes flickering around, deep in thought. He hadn’t exactly talked to you since your new discovery, he hated himself for it. He should’ve been happy, this was everything you ever wanted, so why did you leaving feel so soon?
That night, the four of you slipped through the service corridors, quiet footsteps muffled against the concrete floors. Dustin motioned for everyone to stay low before following him onto the roof overlooking the loading dock.
Rows of delivery boxes stretched beneath you, as heavy rain poured from above, soaking you all and obscuring your vision. “What’s down there?” Robin asked.
“It’s just more boxes.” Dustin said using the binoculars. You leaned carefully against the railway, peering into the darkness, until a rumble echoed through the warehouse entrance.
You could hear Steve panting beside you as you all stayed silent, waiting for something. The guards moved with practiced precision, observing the area while heavy crates were unloaded one after another.
Suddenly, they disappeared behind reinforced metal doors. “What do you think’s inside?” You spoke over the loud rattle of rain, lifting your head up to try and catch a glimpse.
“I can’t see, just boxes.” Dustin mumbled, squinting through the lenses.
“Give me those.” Steve reached over, wrestling them out of Dustin’s hands, until they slipped free, crashing against the catwalk. One of the guards froze, turning to sweep his flashlight across the loading dock.
Then, something shimmered. Just beyond the line of trucks, the air rippled unnaturally, like heat rising from asphalt. A thin, jagged fracture split through the darkness, glowing with the same electric blue light you remembered from the woods.
Your breath caught in your throat, the crack. It flickered violently, stretching for the briefest second, revealing nothing but darkness. Without thinking, you leaned farther over the ledge, unable to tear your eyes away.
The flashlight suddenly jerked upwards, Steve followed your line of sight, but all he saw was empty air. Then he looked at you, you weren’t even watching the guard, you were staring at something that wasn’t there.
“Down.” Before you even had time to react, his hand shot around your wrist, yanking you downwards with enough force that you nearly collided with his chest. The beam skimmed over your heads, drifting away again.
No one dared to breathe, only then did Steve finally loosen his grip, turning to look at you with an expression you couldn’t identify. “What were you doing?” He whispered sharply, fingers still wrapped around your wrist.
You blinked, still trying to catch your breath. “You didn’t see it?”
“See what?” He asked, brows furrowed together.
“The crack.” You looked back towards the loading dock. “It was right there.”
“You mean the one that got you here?” He muttered, glancing back toward the spot you’d indicated. There was nothing, only piles of boxes waiting to be carried inside.
Robin and Dustin exchanged confused looks. “There wasn’t anything there.” She whispered.
“There was.” You insisted. “I saw it—I know I did.”
Steve turned back to you. “You leaned halfway over the ledge, you know that?” He hissed.
“I was trying to see it, if only you left me for one more second—”
“That isn’t the point.” Steve’s voice stayed low, but the frustration underneath it was impossible to miss. “You almost got caught.”
“And it could’ve been my way out of here!” Your voice came out louder than you’d intended.
Steve’s jaw tightened. “Or, you could’ve risked your life for nothing.”
You opened your mouth to retort, only for Dustin to throw a hand back without looking away from the dock. “Guys.”
The mystery wasn’t over, not even close. Steve’s words echoed in your head long after you’d left from the loading dock. You could’ve risked your life for nothing. But if that crack really had been your only chance, how could you ignore it?
taglist: @unclejeezysblog @selinna29 @hazzaisonfirelol @crackncrinkle @youreasnack @oleander-by-mothermother @electra-hearttt @oliviaharrington @strangegirl26sff @cosmiiwrites @beautifulsoulsaretaken @bamitzzsam @wandadjangomaximov @4v3rybl0zz0m @djodjosiwa @eerilyjaggedconstruct @maemeru @ddjjoo21 @1iliaanxz @iamwarrenspeace @whoxoxovi @finniewolfsoft @dustymerlin @scorpioluvrrr @rruuudii @harbourverse @tokalotashiz @skelkitty @scoopstroop0704 @blurryshycloud @moonlights-muse @insomniacpen @peaxxhyyangell @melonme18 @newtie-mybaby @wandasimp-69 @satoruyazzy @munsonintheupside @folkwhore8 @leaveonthelight29 @lilyhours @stephstephstephsteph @dramatic—sigh @qiuekr @thelastbookmark @hexyissy @cocoabears @jene11 @niyaniyapantsonfiya @nowandajenn @buckleyverse @libsfics @faithsturniolo
★ If you would like to be added to the tag list, comment below
Back To ‘85: Material Girl
Steve Harrington x fem!reader 2.4k words
warnings: time travel au, fluff, strangers to lovers, season three adjacent, slow burn
Back to ‘85 | Part 1
While the scoops troop works on decoding the secret transmission, you get whisked away by a certain duo for a complete eighties makeover—making someone’s head spin
Morning sunlight filtered through the curtain in soft golden streaks, warming your face just enough to pull you from sleep. For one blissful second, everything felt normal. The mattress beneath you was comfortable, the faint smell of breakfast drifted down the hallway, then your eyes opened.
An unfamiliar ceiling stared back, your heart sank, right, it was 1985. The events of yesterday came rushing back to you all at once—the crack in the woods, Scoops Ahoy, sailor boy, Robin, time travel.
With a sigh, you pushed yourself upright, wincing slightly as the bruise on the back of your head reminded you it was very, very real. The oversized sweatshirt Steve had lent you had ridden up sometime during the night. Tugging it back into place, you padded quietly into the hallway.
The smell grew stronger as you frowned, burnt toast. You rounded the corner into the kitchen to find Steve standing in front of the stove with his back turned to you, one hand clutching a spatula while the other waved a dish towel at the toaster.
“I don’t think toast is supposed to be that color.” You leaned against the doorway.
Steve jumped, the spatula clattering onto the floor with a loud bang. “I—” he whipped around, cheeks already pinkening. “I wasn’t expecting you to be awake.”
You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. “I can see that.”
He looked down at the smoking toast, lips pinching together. “Okay, maybe breakfast isn’t my thing.” He tossed it into the trash before opening the fridge. “Cereal?”
You accepted it graciously. “I can do cereal.” You agreed, sitting opposite him at the kitchen counter.
For a while, neither of you spoke, Steve stealing the occasional glance between bites of cereal. The silence wasn’t awkward, it was strangely comforting. “Hey, you look better today.” His expression softened, you blinked up at him.
“Oh, I—I guess I slept good is all.” You shrugged, stopping the spoon halfway to your mouth. “I just kept thinking…what if I never get home?” You whispered, staring down into your bowl.
Steve felt the itch to reach out, to hold your hand, anything to ease your worries slightly. “We’re gonna figure it out.” He said firmly.
“You don’t know that.” You wanted to be optimistic, but every second you weren’t home, you felt trapped.
“No.” He admitted so honestly it hurt. “But Dustin’s usually right about this weird stuff. And besides, you’ve got me.” Steve paused, realizing what he just said. “I mean, you’ve got us, the whole group.” He rushed out.
You smiled gently. “I know what you mean.”
He quickly straightened up, clearing his throat. “We should probably head to Scoops.”
“Back to work?” You asked, only remembering now that even though it is summer, people are still employed.
“Robin will complain if I’m late.” Steve explained, sighing. “Better get there now.”
“Then you should go put on that uniform, sailor boy.” You mocked, unable to keep the grin off your face.
Steve narrowed his eyes at you, realizing he was never going to escape the horrendous name. “Whatever you say, future girl.”
Looks like you weren’t the only one who could come up with nicknames.
The loud hum of Starcourt mall buzzed through Scoops Ahoy as another steady stream of customers wandered in and out. Steve and Dustin had completely taken over the back room, a notebook lay open between them, whiteboard littered with symbols and letters.
“I’m telling you, Henderson, I definitely heard the word banana in there.” Steve yelled, replaying the audio.
Dustin groaned, slapping his forehead. “Sure Steve, why would top secret spy agents be transmitting a code about bananas?” He returned.
You walked out of the door, joining Robin upfront while she kept slinging ice cream cones. As much as you wanted to help them, it was extremely clear they weren’t getting anywhere and you needed to clear your head.
“I’ve learned to tune them out.” The short-haired girl said, shooting you a glance.
You nodded, giving her the same tired expression. “I think I’m getting there.”
The door swung open once more, two girls walked inside, laughing about something you’d missed. One had fiery red hair with matching freckles littered across her face, radiating confidence with every step she took.
The other wore a vibrant mismatched outfit, she smiled at everything around her with wide brown eyes as if she was seeing it for the very first time. Robin sent them a smile, she recognized the redhead from when she came in with a bigger group. “Hey, are you looking for Steve?” She asked.
“Nope,” the redhead exclaimed with a grin. “No boys today, just ice cream.”
After another minute of indecisive sampling, they finally settled on their cones. As Robin handed over their ice creams, they turned towards you, noticing you standing off to the side.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” The redhead pointed out.
“I’m…” you hesitated. “New.”
“She’s definitely new.” Robin said with a laugh, as they raised their brows.
“I’m Max.” The redhead introduced herself, then pointed to the short haired girl beside her. “And this is El.”
El smiled warmly, connecting with your gaze. “Hi,” she muttered, somewhat shyly.
“So,” Max got straight to the point. “What’s your story?” She asked patiently.
Before you could open your mouth, Robin beat you to it. “She’s from the future.” You weren’t sure if Robin should be revealing your secret to the young teens, the more people that knew the more dangerous, but you got this weird feeling that this wasn’t the strangest thing they’ve heard.
“Excuse me?” Max blinked, you nodded awkwardly.
“The future.” El repeated, though instead of laughing, she looked amazed. “What’s it like?” She asked.
Max leaned forward immediately. “Wait, seriously?” She lowered her voice to El. “You actually believe her?”
The other girl simply shrugged, she came from a lab where kids had powers. “Maybe she’s like me.” She responded, you didn’t know what she meant.
“Are people…happier?” She continued. The question caught you off guard, you looked down at your hands.
“I don’t know,” you confessed. “I think life gets faster. Everyone’s always rushing, sometimes it feels like nobody notices what’s right in front of them anymore.”
The conversation faded into quiet, you realized the people around you didn’t know how much things are going to change. Maybe it’s better they didn’t know, maybe you should keep it all to yourself.
Max suddenly clapped her hands together. “Alright, enough of the depressing future talk.” Then she pointed at you. “When was the last time you bought new clothes?”
You looked down at the oversized sweatshirt from Steve, grimacing slightly at the fact you still hadn’t found anything that’s fit you. “Technically, this isn’t mine.”
Max looked towards Robin. “Can we borrow her?” She asked.
A smile spread across her face. “Oh, absolutely.” She replied, before turning towards you. “I think…” she nudged your shoulder. “It’s time you looked a little more like you belonged in 1985.”
You hadn’t even had the chance to protest, Max grabbed one wrist, while El gently took the other. “C’mon!” They started dragging you away from the ice cream parlor.
“W-wait—”
“You’ll survive.” Max rolled her eyes, scouting all the stores you could venture into.
“Have fun!” Robin called after you with a grin. You looked helplessly over your shoulder, but Max and El disappeared with you into a sea of neon lights and music echoing throughout the huge mall.
The second the pair dragged you through the first clothing shop, you knew you were in trouble. “I can already tell,” you sighed. “I’m not getting a say in any of this, am I?”
But deep down, you loved that they were doing this for you. In your time, you’d only dressed for the decade during spirit week in school, but witnessing it all in real life, was a completely surreal feeling.
“Uh-uh,” she shook her head, browsing between the racks as El wandered after her, fingertips brushing over brightly colored shirts with quiet fascination.
“So many colors.” You muttered breathlessly. Max had already popped back out with an armful of clothes, dumping everything into your arms.
A denim skirt, a bright pink graphic tee tied at the waist, white high-top sneakers, and a pair of scrunchies. You stared at the various fabrics like they came from a museum, they didn’t belong on your body.
“Listen,” Max’s blue eyes pierced into yours. “You’re gonna try all this on, and you’ll be transformed into a whole new person.” She giggled.
And fifteen minutes later, the dressing room curtain slowly slid open as you stepped out. The denim skirt sat comfortably above your knees, paired with the pink tee that hugged your waist, socks pulled above your ankles.
You tugged self-consciously at the hem. “I feel straight out of a movie.”
El’s face instantly lit up, gazing at you with adoration. “You look pretty.” She commented.
Heat rushed to your cheeks. “I do?” You asked, staring into the mirror.
Max laughed loudly. “You don’t even know.” She stood up again, joining you in the reflection. “We’re not done yet.”
You’d somehow accumulated a whole stack of vintage jewelry, hoop earrings, more bracelets than you could count, and sunglasses that Max had insisted were made for you.
The final stop was a cosmetics counter, you froze in place. “I’m terrible at makeup,” you shook your head.
Max relented, pulling you forwards. “So am I, but we'll learn together, right?” She shrugged.
You looked at her skeptically. “I’m scared.” You said as she pushed down to sit in front of a vanity.
“We never finished talking.” Max pointed out as she picked up a pallet.
“About?” You asked, looking up at her.
“The future.” She said obviously. “Boys,” she sent you a smirk, dabbing a makeup brush onto your face.
You laughed, trying to keep still. “What about them?” You asked.
“You got a boyfriend?” She chirped, pulling back to scan your face.
“No.” You answered truthfully.
“Really?” She paused. “Like you’ve never had one?”
You squirmed in your seat, nodding easily. “Yup, I guess I’ve always just been waiting for the right person.” You explained.
“I had a boyfriend.” El spoke up, you looked at her curiously. “But I dumped him today.” She finished with a mischievous smile, laughing at her own words. “Max said it’s ‘girl power’.”
You laughed, eyes crinkling at her. “It is, that’s why you should be with someone who treats you right.”
“I told her boys can be idiots sometimes.” Max added. “It’s basically in their DNA.” She laughed.
“Oh trust me, they’re all like that where I’m from.” You said.
“Well…maybe the 80’s got better options.” Max gave you a sly wink.
Heat crept up your neck, brows furrowing. “I’ve been here less than a day.” You mentioned.
“Mhm.” Max hummed, uncapping a lipstick to bring to your mouth.
“I’m serious.” You pushed.
“We’ll see.” She smirked. You rolled your eyes, unable to stop smiling.
She finally stepped back after what felt like an eternity later. “There.” She smirked, happy with her work. You took a peak, blinded by your new face. Your makeup was surprisingly soft, a sweep of rosy blush, a hint of lipstick that made your lips look kissable, mascara that lifted your lashes enough without looking overdone. Nothing dramatic, but it made you feel more confident than you ever had in your whole life.
El reached for your hair behind you. “Can I?” She asked softly.
You nodded, watching as she carefully brushed it before gathering the front sections into a high half-up ponytail, secured with one of the scrunchies they had gotten you earlier. A few loose strange framed your face angelically, the girl in the mirror still looked like you, just, more fit for the time.
“I love it.” You slowly smiled, each of them placing a hand on your shoulders.
“I know.” Max said smugly, tucking a hair behind your hair.
“Well, well, well…” Robin drawled amusingly as she caught you returning to Scoops Ahoy. “Looks like someone got a makeover.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
She raised her voice loud enough to catch Steve’s attention where he was still huddled in the back. “Dingus.”
“What?” Steve sighed.
“Could you bring that whiteboard up front, we should probably show her what we uncovered.” She said.
Steve stood up, carrying the whiteboard to the counter, but fully froze once he had glanced towards the entrance, the whiteboard dropping from his hands.
You stood awkwardly just a couple feet away. “Too much?” You asked, tugging on the hem of your skirt.
Steve opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again—his brain had completely short-circuited. Robin bit the inside of your cheek to stop herself from laughing.
Dustin followed after him, looking up from his notebook to watch Steve’s blank expression. “Dude…” no response. “Steve.” Still nothing. “Steve!”
He flinched, blinking rapidly. “What?” Though his eyes lingered on you for a few more moments.
“You’ve been staring for like,” Dustin checked his watch. “Thirty seconds.”
Steve’s cheeks immediately flushed the same shade as your shirt. “I wasn’t staring.” He scoffed.
Robin raised an eyebrow. “You definitely were, Harrington.”
He looked at you again, sounds faltering out of his mouth. “You…” he started, swallowing thickly. “You look…” they all watched him expectantly. “Really pretty.” He forced the words out.
Your eyes widened, eyes flickering around the parlor. “Thanks.” You exhaled.
Steve rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “Mhm.” For a split second, the rest of the mall vanished, only the two of you remained, until Robin cleared her throat loudly.
“Alright, so while you were getting all dolled up.” She raised the board where they had written the decoded message. “I put my linguistic skills to use and translated the message.”
Your eyes almost popped out of your skull, as you hurried over to get a closer look. “Really, you actually did it?”
“These idiots would be stuck without me.” She gloated. “It was in Russian, but not nearly as complicated as Dustin thought.”
The Henderson boy shot her an offended look. “I never said that it was complicated.” He corrected.
“You literally called it an encrypted Soviet communication.” She mentioned.
“Which makes more sense.” He shrugged.
Robin rolled her eyes before tapping the first line with the end of a marker. “The week is long.” She moved to the next. “The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west.” Then the final line. “A trip to China sounds nice, if you tread lightly.”
“I’m still not seeing what any of that has to do with well, her showing up here.” Steve gestured.
“Maybe it doesn’t.” Robin admitted. “Maybe they’re connected by luck.”
Dustin shook his head. “I don’t think so, she falls through some weird crack in reality the same day this Russian transmission shows up? We’re missing something.”
Steve sighed, leaning against the counter. “Great, we cracked the code just to end up with even more questions.”
You stayed silent, your gaze lingering on the words scrawled across the whiteboard. Somewhere in those cryptic messages had to be an explanation, for why you were here, and whether you would ever make it back.
None of you knew it, but decoding the Russian message was only the first piece of a puzzle far bigger than any of you could’ve imagined.
taglist: @unclejeezysblog @selinna29 @hazzaisonfirelol @crackncrinkle @youreasnack @oleander-by-mothermother @electra-hearttt @oliviaharrington @strangegirl26sff @cosmiiwrites @beautifulsoulsaretaken @bamitzzsam @wandadjangomaximov @4v3rybl0zz0m @djodjosiwa @eerilyjaggedconstruct @maemeru @ddjjoo21 @1iliaanxz @iamwarrenspeace @whoxoxovi @finniewolfsoft @dustymerlin @scorpioluvrrr @rruuudii @harbourverse @tokalotashiz @skelkitty @scoopstroop0704 @blurryshycloud @moonlights-muse @insomniacpen @peaxxhyyangell @melonme18 @newtie-mybaby @wandasimp-69 @satoruyazzy @munsonintheupside @folkwhore8 @leaveonthelight29 @lilyhours @stephstephstephsteph @dramatic—sigh @qiuekr @thelastbookmark @hexyissy @cocoabears @jene11 @niyaniyapantsonfiya @nowandajenn @buckleyverse @libsfics @faithsturniolo
★ If you would like to be added to the tag list, comment below
You are so talented 🫶
Hey btw u made my day 🥹🥹🥹
You are so sweet for saying this, genuinely thank you so much. Sending big love, (consensual) kisses, and the best day ever your way 💕💕💕
who wants a damnation chapter in the next 24 hours bc i can 👀