#lock innn

ׂ╰┈➤ SUCKER PUNCH! ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁

Chapter Four: Upside Down

MIKE WHEELER X NOBODY!READER.

↳ in which a loser boy meets an even bigger loser girl.

𖤓 ch.4 CONTENTS: reader is described as chubby, unfortunately I do use Y/n for simplicity sake I’m sorry, mentions of bullying, awkwardness, friendlessness, eventual yearning, shitty nerd x grumpy loner trope, silliness, 80’s, physical violence, mentions of blood and slight gore..? (Scrapes n’ stuff like that), verbal bullying, talking poorly about oneself, 

𖤓NOTE: HELLOOOO! So, this chapter takes place during 'The Crawl' Episode in season five, and while it will be similar to the canon, I will be changing things so that you, the reader, can feel more involved and immersed! Get ready for some drama, romance, and shit inducing panic! (it is a time skip btw.. but after this one, no more!)

I WILL BE UPLOADING THIS TO WATTPAD AS WELL! I like Wattpad's formatting :)

Ch.5

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

Upside down!

THE smell of freshly salted fries right out of the fryer and grilled burger patties filled the Jukebox, chatter filling the new diner in Hawkins as people sat around together and ate their deliciously deep fried and greasy meals.

Boy you turn me,

"There is absolutely zero way that Wolverine would beat The Hulk in a fight." Lucas argued with Mike as he took a bite out of three French fries at once. Michael gave the young man what was probably the nastiest, sassiest look any human being could muster as William Byers sat in-between the two boys at the counter, nervous as they literally argued over him. Poor boy.. should he excuse himself to the bathroom so they could have some privacy...?

-Inside out!

"You're actually an idiot, all he has to do is- oh, I dunno, Slice his Achilles tendon and it's quite literally wraps??" Mike argued back. Will opened his mouth to say something, but quickly shut it as Lucas repeated what their friend had said in a childish, mocking tone. Mike gasped in astonishment, but before he could fuel the debate anymore, you came with a rounded tray full of hot food. "Boys, you're gonna drive away our customers." You scolded through gritted teeth. this wouldn't be the first time you had to tell them to shut up per Shepherds orders: in fact, it was a weekly occurrence... if not, daily.

What? They got a family discount on the food!

After the 'earth quake' that literally split Hawkins into sections like it was a tray of brownies getting distributed at a family gathering, the lovely record shop known as The Afterglow was sadly split with it, along with many other shops and small businesses. Both you and Shepherd were distraught, his whole life's work destroyed due to interdimensional chaos--well, to everyone else other than you and your friends, it was actually just a gnarly natural disaster.

A whole lot of shit went down since Veronica Steel punched you in the face, and ever since then your life had been permanently altered. You made new friends, found new movies and songs you liked, discovered that there were real life monsters in a creepier, nastier version of your world that were out to get people in Hawkins, found out super powers were real... Oh, and you got a car! Like you said, a whole lot of shit.

Of course, it wasn't all fun in games. You also lost people. Like Eddie, and even your best friend Maxine Mayfield, who was now in a coma that seemed to have zero improvement and no sign of changing any time soon, like she was stuck in limbo or something. You found yourself listening to Kate Bush a lot, missing your friend more than anything in the world. You visited her with Lucas quite often, but left the two of them alone most of the time because you knew that he was affected the most by the terrible, heartbreaking incident that transpired back in March. It was a rough time for all of you.

Dustin especially, he had grown... Distant.

Speaking of which, your eyes trailed to the empty stool at the counter besides Lucas, the place the curly haired geek usually sat. You pointed to it with your thumb. "Where's Dustin?" You ask the three boys in your sight. They all exchange a glance and shrug, you join the gesture with a roll of your eyes. This wouldn't be the first time Dustin had canceled or just straight up ditched plans--and you were sure as hell it wouldn't be the last.

"L/n! Table four's food is gettin' cold already! Hop to it!" Shep scolded from the window behind the fountain that led to the kitchen. Your head whipped to the food placed on the window sill and you nearly dropped your now empty tray. "Shit!" You curse, nearly slipping as you dash to get the food ready. God damn, how long had that been there??

The boys winced at Shepherds harsh tone as you carry on with your job, Will finally digging into the chicken tenders he had been waiting for. Lucas had gotten another batch of fries and onion rings, while Mike got the Jukebox classic 'Turntable Burger' with tater tots.

"Man, I've never seen her work so fast in her life." Lucas chuckled, watching with the group as you delivered table fours food and apologized kindly for the wait. "-yeah, never seen her act so nice to people either." Mike teased, of which you heard, so it earned him a glare as you moved to another table that had just sat down so you could take their orders. The actual Jukebox located by the restrooms of the joint played Diana Ross upon some strangers request, nearly giving the group of teenagers a heart attack when they first heard it start to play. Thankfully, the radio that you had conveniently kept on the edge of the counter for 'news' and 'weather updates' had remained silent the whole time.

"Y/n's a hard worker guys, give her a break. I'm sure she's always been." Will defended, taking a bite of his chicken with a smile. He hadn't known your time at the Afterglow, and hadn't even known you at all for very long. Even then, the two of you got along pretty well. "we're just messing... It is funny though, seeing her in that stupid uniform and smiling at strangers." Lucas added, earning a small laugh from both the boys. "They must pay good, cuz' I know it kills her."

Mike shrugged and spoke with a mouthful. "As long as we get heavily discounted food, I don't care."

You weren't the only one with a new job. Like previously mentioned, that radio you kept on the edge of the diners counter was used so you could tune into the radio segments from The Squawk, something that was absolutely mandatory since you and your friends with sneaking around the military and trying to find a big bad monster under the table. That's where Robin and Steve spent their time, broadcasting things like weather, musical facts, and playing tunes for the people stuck in Hawkins. Robin was the true voice, and honestly? She was pretty damn good. Sometimes, she'd let you recommend songs to play and she'd put them on the next morning for you to listen to on your way to school in the brand new car you had gotten. Okay... Not brand new, but it was new to you.

Your parents got you the car because they didn't feel safe and confident in you riding your bike everywhere. With all the past disappearances, 'murders', and natural disasters transpiring now? They wanted you in a car. So. they got you a shitty old Toyota Camry that was the most ugly color you could ever conjure up in your mind. It had rust, scrap metal that replaced damaged parts, torn seats in the interior... But, it drove. It got you where you needed to be.

Actually, you were ecstatic when your parents surprised you with it a little after they made you get your license. You then drove yourself in your new hot ride to the plans you had with your friends, surprising them as well. Dustin had said it looked like shit, so you promptly threatened him and smacked him on the shoulder. Will thought it was cool, so you offered to drive him home at the end of the movie night you all had. Now, you were one of the designated drivers... As long as Steve wasn't available-cuz' lets be honest, the beamer was way cooler than your Camry.

And due to the fact you had a car, you had obviously stopped biking to school in the mornings.. which brings you to now, waiting at a stop light right before the turn you had to take to get to the same shithole high school you had been going to since what felt like the dawn of time. Your fingers tapped to the rhythm of the song you requested as Robin kindly broadcasted it to all of Hawkins: A Blondie classic, of course. You still had a smile on your face from what she had said before playing it on the radio.

"-Which, Hawkins.. Brings me to our next song this morning: courtesy of a great, good friend of mine who always insists there's 'another way', this is Blondie's 'One way or another', enjoy kids--this one is for you, L/n."

You mouthed the lyrics that were so well known to you, reminiscing the days where you and Max would have dance parties in your bedroom while punking out to the band. Your mother would burst in, telling--no, demanding the two of you to 'knock it off' and 'quiet down', to which you would both break out into laughing fits the moment she slammed your door and walked away.

You shook the memories out of your head before you could get upset. You wanted today to be better than yesterday, you just wanted to relax... See your friends, get through school and have the night off from work. Maybe you'd take a bubble bath.

You slammed your hands against the wheel harder as the climax of the song came on, hitting in unison of the drums that played on your radio and dancing to yourself.

Not far away from where you had just drove past, The boys peddled like hell as Holly lingered behind and waited for the turn to go to the Elementary school. They glanced at the radios that were haphazardly taped to the front of their bikes as the song played. "It's a good song," Will nodded, pulling up closer to the group. Lucas and Mike looked to one another and shrugged, Mike spoke.

"Yeah, it is."

-

THE bell rang—sharp and metallic, slicing through the hallway with the same exact pitch and volume it had carried all year, all four years, probably since the beginning of time if you really stopped to think about it. The sound grated on your nerves like sandpaper against skin. You sighed and shut your locker, the hollow clang echoing just long enough to remind you how painfully bored you were. Pure, bone-deep boredom pulsed through your veins as you adjusted the strap of your bag and waited for the day to finally be over.

You had promised yourself this morning that today would be better. That somehow, miraculously, things would feel lighter.

They didn’t.

The familiar sense of dread settled in your chest again, heavy and unavoidable, wrapping itself around your ribs like it always did the moment you stepped foot inside Hawkins High. It followed you everywhere—every hallway, every classroom, every glance from people who thought they knew everything about you. You hated that you kept hoping it would disappear on its own, as if one day you’d wake up and feel normal without ever putting in the work to fix what was broken. Or maybe what was missing.

Even if that kind of change were possible, today clearly wasn’t the day.

There was a tension lingering in the air, something sharp and electric that never quite went away after everything that had happened. The jocks were back on top, loud and untouchable, ruling Hawkins High like they always had. You supposed that when you’d gotten involved with Hellfire—when you’d been pulled into late-night games, laughter, and the safety of shared understanding—you’d forgotten just how cruel the real world could be. How unforgiving. How quick it was to turn its back.

Eddie’s name was ruined. His memory twisted into something ugly by people who’d never known him. Known the truth. Students were still missing. And your best friend—the one who had been the reason you weren’t alone to begin with—was gone, in a coma. If it hadn’t been for her, you wondered sometimes if Vecna would have come for you too. If things would have played out differently.

You always reached the same conclusion: no. Nothing would have changed. If you’d stayed invisible, friendless, tucked safely into the background, the world would have kept spinning the same way it always had. Veronica made sure you remembered that.

“Nice to see ya, loser.”

The voice slid into your ears like poison disguised as honey. You turned sharply, hair bouncing slightly out of place, and found yourself face to face with the wicked bitch from hell.

“Sick hair cut.”

Your jaw tightened. Everyone had changed—senior year did that to people. Ronnie especially. Her hair was longer now, falling in soft Hollywood curls instead of the tight perm she used to wear. Her lips always shone with light pink gloss, gold jewelry delicate and intentional. She looked like she belonged everywhere. You hated how easy it seemed for her.

You hated that you envied it.

Because aside from a different hairstyle, you hadn’t really changed at all. Beneath everything, you were still the same lonely girl you’d always been.

“What do you want, Veronica?” You sighed, the exhaustion in your voice unmistakable.

Before monsters and alternate dimensions, she’d been your personal Demogorgon—only this one wore cute sweaters and smiled while she hurt you.

“Nothing from you, other than to know who did your hair so that I know to stay away from their salon.”

Her laugh rang out, sharp and unapologetic, as she glanced at her friends before looking back at you like she expected an encore. Your brows pulled together as you shook your head, already drained.

“What..?- Veronica, dude, I got my hair cut like months ago.”

You hadn’t shown up one day looking completely different. You’d eased into it over the summer, experimenting quietly, learning how to style it properly with Nancy’s help. It wasn’t sudden. It wasn’t dramatic.

“Well, whoever told you it looked good is doing you a great disservice.”

She giggled.

“Nothing looks good on me to you, Steel..” you muttered, voice low.

She opened her mouth to say more, but a loud commotion erupted further down the hall, pulling both of your attention at once. You craned your neck, rising onto your tiptoes, but all you could see were bodies—students packed together, whispering, staring.

Groaning, you shoved forward, pushing past people without apologizing, leaving Veronica behind. Panic sparked when you heard it.

“Henderson!”

Andy’s voice.

Your stomach dropped. Your face went cold as you shoved harder, forcing your way through the crowd, shoulders colliding with yours as you moved. Times like this, you were grateful for your strength.

“Not again..” you muttered under your breath.

You caught fragments—raised voices, laughter, the tops of familiar heads.

“Hope you brought a new change of clothes Henderson... No one wants to see that shit.”

The words made your hands curl into fists. By the time you broke through, Andy and his friends were already leaving, laughter trailing behind them. You adjusted your bag and stared at Dustin, confusion and anger colliding in your chest.

“What the fuck was that? What just happened??”

You barely needed an answer. The torn Hellfire shirt said everything. Dustin didn’t respond. He just turned and walked, shoulders stiff, expression unreadable.

“You have to stop provoking them, man!” Mike said as you all followed, voices raised over the crowd.

“Oh, so this is my fault? Fer’ what? wearing a T-shirt?”

"It's not just a T-shirt and you know that.."

“So I should just be more like you guys and turn the other cheek while they spread more bullshit about Hellfire- about Eddie??”

The name cracked something open. Dustin pulled away again, creating distance you couldn’t bridge.

“Eddie never gave a rats ass about what those mouth breathers were saying and you know it-”

“Yeah, C’mon Dustin. We all know the only thing he’d care about right now is putting an end to all the bat shit stuff happening..!” you reminded.

Dustin stopped, spinning toward you.

“Do you seriously think I don’t care about that?” He questioned. “Really?”

“No, Dustin, We know you care but there is way more prominent and important shit going on right now!” you replied.

“Y/n’s right, Dustin- I mean, what if you get hurt? seriously hurt? You’re drawing too much attention...”

“Will and Y/n are right. Remember what Hop’ said? We need. to keep. our heads. down.” Lucas repeated.

“-Follow the rules, blend in..?”

“yeah, stay focused on our next crawl..?” Mike attached to Will's continuation and you concluded it. “Does that ring a bell, Henderson?”

He laughed—sharp, bitter—leaning against the painted brick wall.

“Do you guys even hear yourselves right now? Blend in..? When is that something we’ve ever done??”

You rubbed your face, frustration burning behind your eyes.

“We stay true to ourselves...--we’re supposed to stay true to our friends!”

“We stand up for what’s right, no matter. the cost.”

“What?- are you crazy?? Do you even hear yourself?? We need to stay alert and we need to stay out of trouble. That includes you.”

“You aren’t listening!”

“No.” Dustin was quick to cut off Lucas. “You’re not.”

And then he walked away, leaving the space between all of you wider than it had ever been. He just.. Walked away.

“You’ve got to be shitting me..!” you let out in disbelief, the words tumbling from your mouth before you could stop them. Your hands dropped stiffly to your sides, fingers curling like you were bracing yourself for impact. You stood there for a second too long, staring at the space Dustin had just occupied, like if you waited long enough he might turn back around. He didn’t. His footsteps echoed down the hall, swallowed by the noise of lockers slamming and students laughing, a sound that felt entirely wrong for the moment you were living in.

“Dustin!-” Lucas called out, his voice sharp with urgency as he took a half-step forward, instinctively ready to chase after him. His jaw was tight, frustration and worry clashing across his face in equal measure. For a split second, it looked like he might actually go after him—might say something that could still pull Dustin back from the edge.

“let him go..” Will sighed.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. It was tired.

Will’s shoulders sagged slightly as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the floor like he couldn’t bear to watch Dustin walk away again. There was something heavy in his tone—resignation mixed with understanding—like he knew that anything said now would only make things worse. You hated that he was probably right.

The hallway continued moving around you like nothing had happened. Students passed by, some whispering, some staring, others completely oblivious. Life went on, uncaring. You swallowed hard, your chest tight with words you hadn’t said and apologies you didn’t know how to make. Dustin wasn’t just angry—he was hurting. And the worst part was knowing that no matter how right you felt, no matter how logical your arguments were, they hadn’t reached him at all.

He was already gone.

And you were left standing there with the rest of them, the space he’d left behind feeling louder than any argument you’d had all week. Your head shook as you stood there in disbelief. You were damn near speechless. "I mean... Are you serious..?" You stammered, looking to your friends.

You had to admit, you weren't the best at controlling your temper. Honestly, that wasn't a secret. And it wasn't that you didn't feel bad for Dustin and Eddie-because you did. A lot. You just couldn't wrap your mind around the disregard he had for what you were all saying, trying to remind him. You were supposed to be best friends... Maybe not you, but Mike and Lucas? No one could reach him... It was painful to watch.

The lot of you had to quickly leave each other to get to second period, but god was the moment ricocheting in your mind... At lunch, you just knew you would have to debrief... Thankfully, you had a whole 45 minutes to collect yourself and calm down.

-

“I’m getting real sick of his shit.” You grumbled the words under your breath, stabbing your fork down into the sad pile of cafeteria food on your tray like it had personally wronged you. The plastic utensil scraped harshly against the tray, the sound sharp enough to draw a few glances from nearby tables. Your jaw was clenched, shoulders tight, irritation rolling off you in waves. You’d never claimed to be good at controlling your temper—especially not lately—and Dustin had been testing what little patience you had left.

Across from you, Will paused mid-bite. He didn’t say anything right away, just looked at you with that familiar, gentle sympathy in his eyes—the kind that said I get it, even if I don’t fully agree. Then he sighed quietly and shifted his gaze to the rest of the group, like he was bracing himself before speaking.

“I know... He actually told me he want’s to start up hellfire again...”

The table went still.

Your fork froze halfway to your mouth before you dropped it back onto the tray with a dull clatter. You stared at Will, disbelief written all over your face, a humorless scoff escaping your lips before you could stop it.

“I’m telling you- calling it right now, he has lost. his damn. mind-”

Your voice was low but sharp, frustration bleeding into every carefully separated word. Hellfire—again? After everything? After Eddie? The idea alone made your chest tighten, equal parts anger and fear bubbling just beneath your skin. It felt reckless. Dangerous. Like tempting fate when fate had already proven how cruel it could be.

“Who lost their mind?”

Dustin’s voice cut through the moment like a knife.

He appeared out of nowhere, tray in hand, and before any of you could react, he dropped it down onto the table with a solid thud and slid into the seat Eddie used to occupy. The sound of plastic against metal echoed louder than it should have, your heart lurching painfully at the sight. For just a second, the world tilted—like muscle memory had kicked in and your brain expected Eddie’s voice to follow.

It didn’t.

Dustin leaned back slightly, looking around at all of you with raised brows, confusion flickering behind his eyes as one by one, your faces went pale. Silence stretched. Mike’s mouth opened and closed uselessly. Lucas stared down at his tray like it suddenly held the secrets of the universe. Will’s shoulders stiffened.

And you—your earlier anger vanished instantly, replaced by pure, stomach-dropping dread.

“Uhm...”

The word slipped out of you weakly, all bite and attitude wiped clean in a heartbeat. Your fingers curled around the edge of your tray, knuckles whitening. You weren’t scared of Dustin—but you were terrified of hurting him, of confirming whatever ugly thoughts had been rattling around in his head lately. You scrambled for something—anything—that wouldn’t blow this wide open.

“Andy! Andy lost is mind!”

Phew. Good save.

You seized onto it immediately, nodding along like it had been the plan all along. Your heart was still hammering in your chest as you forced yourself to relax, rolling your shoulders like nothing was wrong.

“Psh, yeah... The way he’s been acting? What a cunt... Right?”

You lifted your fork and waved it dismissively in the air, doing your best impression of casual, though it felt stiff and forced even to your own ears. You shrugged, eyes flicking briefly to Dustin’s face, searching for any sign that he didn’t believe you.

Dustin watched all of you in silence, his gaze moving slowly from face to face. There was something unreadable in his expression—not anger, not amusement, just a quiet, lingering suspicion. Like he knew something was off but couldn’t quite put his finger on what. Finally, he gave a small nod.

“Yeah.”

The word was short. Flat.

He looked down at his food, poking at it absently, and the tension didn’t ease—it just shifted, settling heavier over the table. He glanced back up at you all again, eyes narrowing slightly, like he was watching a group of circus freaks trying and failing to act normal.

There was a silence.

Not the comfortable kind. Not the kind filled with jokes or shared looks or what used to be Eddie’s loud commentary echoing across the cafeteria. This silence was thick and suffocating, filled with everything none of you were saying. Forks scraped. Trays shifted. Somewhere across the room, someone laughed too loudly. Your eyes drifted to Mikes, only to see that his were already on you. It was almost like you guys spoke telepathically, but you looked away before it could go on any longer. Your eyes now glued to the food you played with sadly on your tray.

And all you could think about was how wrong it felt—Dustin sitting there, Eddie’s seat empty, Hellfire hanging over your heads like a ghost none of you knew how to put to rest.

Then, it happened.

The radio sitting at the far end of the cafeteria table let out a sudden, violent screech- feedback shrill enough to make several students wince and groan. Forks paused mid-air. Conversations around you faltered, then slowly dissolved as heads began to turn. The noise crackled and popped, static bursting through the cheap speaker like electricity crawling over exposed wires.

Your heart stuttered.

Before anyone could react, the static cleared just enough for a familiar, bright voice to break through the chaos.

“Hey there friends! This is Rockin’ Robin!”

Your breath caught instantly.

Every single one of you leaned forward at the same time, chairs scraping faintly against the cafeteria floor as you hunched over the table. All eyes locked onto the radio like it was the only thing left in the room. The laughter, the chatter, the clatter of trays faded into a dull blur at the edges of your hearing.

“Sorry for the abrupt departure, Hope you all survived without me..”

You felt it ripple through the group—shock, relief, disbelief—colliding all at once. Robin. Broadcasting. Your fingers curled tightly around the edge of the table, knuckles whitening as you stared at the radio, half-expecting the voice to disappear again.

“We had some...annoying technical difficulties!”

Her voice dipped and rose theatrically, punctuated by random sound effects—cartoonish beeps, faux explosions, static bursts—that matched her tone perfectly. It was so Robin that it almost hurt. Almost.

She continued in a sing-song cadence, bright and deliberate, like she was trying to mask something beneath it.

“But! To make it up to you, we have a very special treat...that is sure to turn your day...”

Your chest tightened.

Slowly, one by one, you looked up from the radio and met the eyes of the people around you. Mike’s brows were pulled together, disbelief etched deep into his face. Lucas had gone rigid, his hand frozen halfway to his drink. Will’s lips parted slightly, like he was about to say something but couldn’t find the words. Dustin’s gaze flicked between each of you, searching, calculating.

It couldn’t be.

Not now.

Not yet.

It made no sense. The timing was wrong. Everything was wrong. Your pulse hammered in your ears, each beat louder than the last as dread crept up your spine, cold and familiar. It was all so confusing.

…Today…?

The radio hummed softly between words, the silence stretched just long enough to make your skin prickle, and you knew—deep down—that whatever was coming next was about to change everything.

"Upside down."

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I DID FORGET TO POST IT ANYWAYS