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stevie-petey · 5 months ago

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episode one: the hellfire club

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–” “Boobies! It’s not a big deal–” You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.” “Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!” You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.”

Summary: el writes to you as if youre her husband away at war, you debate the intricate nature of liking boobies with robin and steve, lucas is your beloved while eddie munson is your sworn enemy, steve accidentally exposes your (horribly hidden) daddy issues, dustin is an angsty teen, and jonathan really loves to drop emotional bombshells on you. can you believe this all happens in one day ? lol cheers to senior year !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of abuse, allusions to bullying, trauma lol

Words: 13.5k (wrote half of this in one day)

Before you swing in: SHES HERE !!!! SEASON 4 !!! this season terrifies me. i spent so much time outlining and making sure it was perfect. i have some changes i want to do, some ideas, and its scary because we dont have season 5 yet and i hate messing with canon ,,, alas: here she is. my baby. my beloved. quick fun fact: theres a scene in here ive had planned since season 1 so .... enjoy !

–

March 21st, 1986.

Dear Y/N,

Congratulations on New York University! Joyce tells me that it is a very good college, and everyone was extremely happy when Jonathan told us the news. He even had a smile on his face! It has been a very long time since I have seen him smile, especially without that weird smell on him (am I allowed to tell you about the strange plants that Jonathan seems to like now? He says that you cannot find out about it, but friends don’t lie and he is your bestest friend).

I asked Will about it, and he says that Jonathan now smells because he misses you. If you ask me, I think that Jonathan smells because he is scared. We are still waiting for his college letter, afterall. I know you want to go to school with him, but so does Nancy. Is it possible to go to two colleges? Anyways, it must be a lot of pressure, even more with all the waiting we have to do, but Joyce told us that sometimes colleges take a long time to respond.

While I am positive that Jonathan will figure it all out soon, he pretends he does not care. But he is a very bad liar. He was very upset that Nancy could no longer visit us in California. Will was bummed too, but he was more sad that it was not you who was visiting. Joyce says that the Byers boys were born to miss you, and I think she is right.

I also miss you. I am still bummed I never went to school with you. I bet Mike is over the moon to have you with him for high school, Dustin and Lucas also. How is Max? Is she still sad? I know school has been hard for her. I will admit that it is hard for me, too. While I am good at maths, and my grammar is getting better, I am still unsure when to use conjunctions or why Angela does not like me. Will tells me to ignore her, but I want to be her friend. She is nice to everyone else. It confuses me that she is not nice to me.

A lot about California confuses me. The flowers here are different, and sometimes I forget that I cannot go and visit you. I miss the smell of Bookstrordinary (did I spell it right?) and your cookies. Please send more as soon as you can. Will and I are almost dying to taste them again! Mike says he will try to bring some on the plane, but I am scared he will be told no by those scary airplane people.

Speaking of Mike, he is coming to California this week! I am very excited to see him. It has felt like years, I think I am even going crazy. I have planned everything for his week here. Spring break will be extra special! It will be a fun distraction from Angela and school. This week I can pretend to be someone else, someone cool, and Mike will be very impressed. I know you tell me to always be myself, so I hope that I can make you happy by taking your advice on focusing only on the good.

To prove I will focus on the good from here on out, here is a good things list:

Mike is visiting!

Will has almost finished his painting. I am very curious to see what he has made. He is really talented, he shows me the drawings he sends you sometimes.

You got into NYU! Is this the correct way to abbreviate? I am still working on conjunctions, but I think I am supposed to use the first letter of every word in the school’s name to shorten it. At least, that is what Joyce says.

Jonathan’s new best friend, Argyle, will give us free pizza to celebrate Mike’s arrival. It is really good pizza.

Tasting your cookies again. Fingers crossed Mike’s plan succeeds!

I am sure there is more, but I am too excited about this week and my mind is going very fast. I miss you tons, maybe even more than Will and Jonathan do. Please come visit us soon. Like Joyce says, the Byers boys were born to miss you. Although I am not a Byers boy, I am still a part of the Byers family, and I miss you.

Love, El.

P.S., thank you for the grammar books. I will be sure to become the best writer ever in California.

–

Sweet, gentle, El. You can almost hear her voice, reading aloud to you as you used to do when she lived in Hopper’s cabin. She would stumble over the letters, ask you how to sound out particularly difficult words in Spider-Man comics; they helped her learn how to read. Now, almost a year later, she’s writing you letters.

El has grown up so much within such a short few months, although it doesn’t surprise you.

Laughing softly as you reread the final line she’s written, you wipe your eyes and place El’s letter onto your desk. The piece of paper joins the others, nestled gently with a pile of her other letters that are housed on your desk. El sends you a new letter every week, detailing silly stories about Jonathan and Will or concerned ramblings about Angela.

The letters make you miss El terribly. They make you miss everyone terribly.

Next to the letters are drawings from Will. He’s become such an artist during his time in California. He sends you beautiful sketches of landscapes in their neighborhood, doodles from class, and incredibly detailed drawings of you and the party. The drawings are Will’s special way to keep in contact with you, and it’s something you cherish so deeply. However, you didn’t know that he was working on a painting, and you’re curious to see what El is talking about. Eventually he’ll reveal his art to you, he always does.

Skimming a finger over one of the more recent drawings from Will, your hand catches on the walkman that lays next to it. Jonathan’s messy handwriting is scrawled on the mixtape that sits within it.

For bug.

The words, familiar and loved, stare back at you. The mixtape contains songs that Jonathan so carefully chose for you. He spent countless hours selecting songs that he knew you’d love, songs that reminded him of you. It had been his gift for you before he moved away. And now he’s gone, and you miss him so much more than you ever thought you would. More than you ever thought you could miss anyone.

Jonathan never did end up coming to Hawkins for spring break.

“Dusty, what’s going on in there?” The sound of your mother pounding on Dustin’s door breaks you from your thoughts. “You’re gonna be late.”

“Don’t come in, I’m naked!” You hear the boy screech back at her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve will be here to pick you guys up any minute. Dustin knows he should be ready by now, the schedule has never changed.

Throwing on the cardigan Steve got you for Christmas last year, you grab your walkman and storm over to Dustin’s room. At the same time, your mother nearly crashes into you in the hall. Her face is pale, horrified of the idea that she almost saw her son naked, and you pity the woman. Dustin has become relentless lately, even more difficult to deal with.

“Y/N, my dear,” your mother clutches at her chest and fans her face. “Can you please make sure your brother is ready? I think that boy is trying to give me a heart attack.”

You sigh, figuring you would have to do so anyways. “Yeah, sure. Go finish getting ready, I’ll handle him.”

“This is why you’re my favorite daughter!” Your mother kisses your cheek before running off towards the kitchen to make her morning coffee.

Once she’s gone, you immediately start banging on Dustin’s door. He knows you hate being late. Plus, it’s the Friday before spring break. You’re getting antsy waiting for this week to end. “Dustin Henderson, you have three seconds before I kick this door down.”

“Not now, Y/N!” Dustin shouts back, frantic and desperate.

You narrow your eyes. He’s using his suspicious voice, the one he only uses when he’s doing something he absolutely shouldn’t be doing. Glancing down at your watch and noting the early hour, you curse in disbelief. “It’s not even seven yet, what the hell are you up to so early in the morning?”

“Nothing! Just go away, I’ll be out soon–”

“I swear, if you’re trying to sell my limited edition comics again I will hurt you.” You throw your body against the door, causing it to fly open as you stumble inside. Dustin is at his computer and he nearly falls off his chair in his haste to cover the screen from you. He’s remarkably horrible at playing cool. You’re about to tell him this when Suzie’s voice crackles through his radio’s speakers.

“Yikes, Dusty.”

“Suzie?” You walk over to your brother and shove his hands off the computer screen. He falls to the ground with a loud thud, which pleases you. He may be a teenager now, but you’re still stronger than him. At least for now. “Why are you calling her right now–” Your eyes land on the screen and you recognize Hawkins High’s familiar orange and green school colors. “Is this the student gradebook?”

“No!” Dustin exclaims, but Suzie’s small and soft voice responds, “Yes.”

“Oh my God,” you cannot believe he’s making his girlfriend hack into your school’s database. Sure, she’s a genius, but you also know she’s incredibly religious. “Dustin, this is so illegal and goes against, like, all of Suzie’s religious morals–”

“I will repent later.” Suzie interrupts you, and you raise your eyebrows at what she’s just said. Before you can question her, Dustin’s computer refreshes.

He leans forward, eyes scanning to see if they’ve succeeded, and he seems to like what he sees. Suddenly Dustin lets out a sudden whoop and fist bumps the air. “God, I love you Suzie.”

Curious, you lean over and read the screen as well. There, where you know Dustin had a D- in Latin not even a day ago, is now an A. There’s no possible way he was able to raise his grade in under twenty-four hours. He sucks at Latin, he hates it, which means… She did it. Suzie changed his grade. All she had to do was press one single button to save Dustin’s GPA.

You have to admit, it’s impressive. And shamefully genius.

“Hey, Suzie.” You bring the radio to your lips, shoving Dustin away when he tries to take it from you. “Do you think you could change my grade in calculus? Jonathan was the only reason I passed any of my other math classes.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Suzie’s voice raises a pitch, she doesn’t want to tell you no. She likes you, she really does, but her God figurine stares down at her with a disappointed look in his eyes. She’s sinned for love, but she doesn’t think she could ever do it again.

You’re about to plead with Suzie, tell her NYU really prioritizes their student’s grades, but the sound of a car honking outside catches your attention; it’s Steve. Dustin yanks the radio from your hand and shoos you away. “Go, leave without me.”

“What, why? We always drive together.” You frown, feeling like a little kid when you cross your arms. Dustin smiles apologetically, a smile you’ve become familiar with. Your mood darkens, anger rises to your cheeks. You know exactly why Dustin is now skipping out on you. “Don’t tell me it’s that stupid Eddie Munson–”

“He wants me and Mike to work out some campaign details before lunch today!” Dustin scrambles to mediate. He hates that you don’t like Eddie, and you like everyone. It’s unnerving how much disdain you seem to carry for his friend. “Nance is driving us, but I swear I’ll ride with you and Steve after break!”

You scoff at Dustin, not at all believing his promise to you. Ever since September your brother has been at Eddie Muson’s beck-and-call, who dictates everything Dustin says or does. At first it was innocent enough, choosing to sit with the guy instead of you at lunch. Skipping out on a few weekend plans with you and Steve to campaign with Eddie. You’d been happy for Dustin. He was making new friends, no longer your little shadow; he was his own person with his own priorities and interests now.

But ever since getting into NYU last week, Dustin has been pulling away even more from you. You don’t know why, but he’s become even more obsessed with Eddie and his stupid Hellfire club.

Eddie Munson is the air your brother now breathes, stifling the air Dustin once breathed for you.

And it seems to only be suffocating you, not him.

“Yeah, whatever.” Halfheartedly you ruffle Dustin’s hair, and he leans into the touch. You don’t want him to know his repeated absences are upsetting you. Deep down, you know you’re being irrational. You’re almost eighteen, soon you won’t even be living under the same roof as Dustin. He’s allowed to live his own life. “I guess I’ll see you at the pep rally. Tell Suzie I said bye, please?”

Dustin nods, though you don’t linger in the doorway like you desperately want to. Instead, you shut the door behind you and place a swift kiss to your mother’s cheek as you leave.

Steve’s car is parked in its usual spot at the end of the driveway. The teen’s arm hangs out the window and his face breaks into a smile when he sees you approaching. Steve’s smile is infectious, it’s always charmed you, and it settles the ache in your chest from your brother’s earlier dismissal. Feeling a smile spread across your own face, you run towards Steve and poke your head through the open window.

“Hi,” you breathe out, nose almost bumping against his cheek.

“Hi, angel.” Steve kisses you, solidifying your morning tradition. Neither one of you really remembers who started it, but sometime during the school year you began to slip your head through Steve’s car window so that he could kiss you slow and sweet.

And, as tradition follows, Robin starts boos. “Do you have to do that every morning?”

Steve makes a face at her and she punches his arm. He yelps in pain and you roll your eyes at the two of them before running over to the passenger’s side where Robin sits. Her window is rolled down as well and you duck your head inside. “Aw, Robin. If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just said so!”

“A kiss–?” Your lips press against Robin’s cheek, smushing against her face while making a dramatic sound. She squeals and pushes you away, wiping her now wet cheek in disgust. “That is not what I wanted.”

You giggle at her and finally get into the car. It’s getting late, you see the assortment of Robin’s limited makeup dumped into her lap haphazardly. She’s been stressing about this morning’s pep rally all week, and clearly she isn’t coping very well. Trying to cheer her up, you flick her shoulder. “I’ll have you know that my cheek kisses are cherished in Hawkins.”

“How many people’s cheeks are you kissing?” Steve turns in his seat to face you, slightly alarmed. Then, noticing that there’s only one Henderson in his car, he frowns. “And where’s little Henderson?”

“Eddie Munson.”

“Woah, wait, you mean Eddie as in where Dustin is, right? Not, like, you’ve been kissing his cheek? I’m right, right? Please tell me I’m right.”

You roll your eyes fondly at Steve while Robin rolls hers in displeasure. “Just drive, Steve.”

–

It becomes pretty apparent five minutes into the car ride that no one seems to be having a good morning. Robin has spent the majority of the drive applying and reapplying her mascara while messing with her hair. She groans every time she looks in the mirror and her eyes lack their usual brilliance.

Meanwhile, Steve has been complaining about yet another fight with his dad. Apparently they argued during breakfast, something that has become a common occurrence in the Harrington household.

“The asshole again reminded me that I’m turning twenty soon. As if I don’t already know that! I mean,” Steve laughs in exasperation. “For weeks now he’s been asking me what my plans are, as if working at Family Video just isn’t good enough for him. As if my dad isn’t the sole reason I had to get a lousy minimum wage job in the first place!”

“Family Video isn’t a lousy job–”

“Yes it is.” Both Steve and Robin say at the same time, which you sigh at. Can’t really argue with that.

“Okay, yeah. It’s pretty lousy.”

Steve rubs his eyes tiredly. “And that isn’t even the worst part. There I was, pouring syrup over my pancakes, trying to enjoy the fact that my parents are actually home for once, when my asshole of a father tells me that if I don’t have a respectable job by the time I’m twenty, he’ll kick me out. I mean, can you believe that?”

You suck in a breath. “Steve…”

Richard Harrington is a cruel, awful man.

While you understand his frustrations towards Steve, it’s completely unreasonable to expect him to get a reputable job in a few short months without any college education. Steve’s right, it had been Richard’s idea to make him work at Scoops Ahoy in the first place. When the mall burned down, he had no other option but to work at Family Video soon after.

“I’m sorry, honey.” You intertwine your fingers through Steve’s hair and rub your thumb up and down the nape of his neck in a soothing manner. Steve allows the touch, but he’s still tense. Guessing that he’s uncomfortable feeling so pitied, you try to make light of the situation with humor. “But hey, who knows? Maybe you can come live with me in New York if he ends up kicking you out.”

Steve risks a look at you, taking his eyes off the road for a few moments, and his eyes shine. He’s ecstatic over what you’ve just said. He looks like a little kid on Christmas Eve. “You really mean that?”

“Well, I mean…” It had mostly been a joke, a throwaway comment to try and get him to smile. But Steve’s body finally relaxes under your touch and you can’t tell him no. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You hear that, Robin?” Steve preens, wanting to get her attention. However, when he realizes that she hasn’t been listening to the entire conversation, he makes an offended sound. “Robin, are you listening to me?”

“Uh, yes?” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror, startled that she’s been caught. “You were-uh. Talking to Y/N about your dad. We-we hate him! Yeah, we hate the guy. He really… grinds my gears?”

Steve groans. “We all hate my dad, but that wasn’t what I was talking to you about!”

“Cut me some slack, please. Your relationship with your father is one of labyrinthine complexity–”

You poke your head between the two teens. “Actually, it’s not that complicated.”

Robin covers your mouth with her hand and continues with her rant. “It’s seven in the morning, we have the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse!”

“I think you look lovely as always, Robin.” You mumble through the girl’s hand, barely coherent.

Steve, however, isn’t as supportive. “You’re worried about a pep rally? You really expect me to believe that?”

“Yeah, so?” Robin removes her hand from your mouth and goes back to doing her makeup. She’s avoiding the conversation now, which only means that Steve is onto something. Why has she been so obsessed about this week’s pep rally? Robin has been in band for years now, she’s done a million pep rallies during her high school career. It can’t be performing that makes her nervous.

Which means it has to be about someone.

Locking eyes with Steve, he seems to be thinking what you are. “I think we all know what this is about, okay? Y/N and I aren’t buying that bullshit.”

“This is about Vickie.” You finish for him, a smirk on your face. For weeks now Vickie has been all Robin has talked about. Her hair, how pretty her smile is, how cute her freckles are. Vickie also happens to be in band with Robin. “C’mon, you can’t tell us we’re wrong.”

“I absolutely can tell you you’re wrong.” Robin denies what you and Steve are implying.

Steve shakes his head. “You know we’re right! And you know what else we think?”

“I really don’t care–”

“Y/N and I think that you gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta be yourself.”

Robin doesn’t want to hear any of this. At least not from you and Steve. “You guys are biased, you do realize that?”

“What do you mean?” You’re practically laying across Steve’s car console in order to be a part of the conversation. “I think we’re objective people.”

“You’re telling me that all I have to do is be myself and Vickie will want to date me?”

You frown. “Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”

Robin throws her head back. “Because it took Steve months to ask you out. Mind you, this was when you were already in love with the guy! And he knew you were in love with him!”

“Okay, hey–” Steve doesn’t at all like what she’s insinuating. He didn’t necessarily know you were already in love with him, he just… had a small hunch.

“I’m not done,” Robin holds her hand up. “All Steve had to do was man up and admit his feelings for you. He didn’t have to agonize over whether or not it’d blow up in his face. There was no risk, no danger, no world ending consequences. I mean, if you had rejected him then maybe Steve’s ego would’ve been bruised. But if I ask out the wrong girl? Bam! I’m a town pariah.”

“This is true,” you reluctantly agree. While you could never envision a world where you’d ever say no to Steve, you also recognize that the world where you somehow do wouldn’t be the same world as Robin’s. Things are different for her, whether you like it or not. Robin has to live with this knowledge, and her conversation with you about luck and love from last summer echoes in your mind.

Steve places a hand on his chest, betrayed. “Whose side are you on, Y/N?”

“True love’s side.”

Robin snorts and Steve doesn’t bother to hide his smile. He wants to tease you for being a hopeless romantic, but now isn’t the time. Instead, he continues the previous conversation. “True love aside, we can’t ignore that Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl.”

“Oh, she definitely isn’t straight.” You agree.

“We don’t know that!” Robin quickly sprays some breath freshener in her mouth and gags, which you cringe at. Vickie is one lucky girl if Robin ever manages to become her girlfriend.

Steve doesn’t let up, he’s convinced he has it all figured out. “She returned Fast Times paused at fifty-three minutes, five seconds.”

“The bikini scene, mind you.” You butt in, and Steve nods eagerly.

“And you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty-three minutes, five seconds? People who like boobies, Robin!”

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–”

“Boobies! It’s not a big deal–”

You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.”

“Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!”

You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.”

Robin can’t even look at the two of you, appalled by how many times the word “boobies” has been uttered during the duration of the conversation. You can’t blame her, the word has practically lost all meaning for you as well.

Steve, however, can’t seem to get enough of it. “It’s boobies!” He exclaims again to no one in particular.

You and Robin lock eyes, and then, without saying anything, your hand covers Steve’s mouth while Robin flicks his forehead, effectively putting the boob conversation to an end.

–

The moment Steve’s BMW slows in front of the school, Robin throws the door open and rushes out with a quick “see you later!” to you as she runs to follow after her bandmates. Steve waves weakly as she goes and sighs in disappointment.

“She’s never talking to Vickie, is she?”

“Not a chance,” you sigh as well, watching as Robin’s figure disappears in the crowd of students. Spring break looms over the student body, everyone buzzes with excitement over their week of freedom and tonight’s basketball game. The pep rally in just a few short minutes only adds to the exhilaration. Leaning forward, your lips graze against Steve’s. “Anyways, see you tonight?”

He bridges the gap between your lips, skin meets skin and warmth floods your stomach. “Of course, angel. I love you.”

“I love you, too, honey.” And with one last kiss, you exit Steve’s car and make your way towards the school. As always, Steve waits until you’re safely on the sidewalk before he pulls away and heads towards Family Video. He’s started picking up morning shifts to fill the time he isn’t with you.

On your way inside, you see Ms. Kelly talking to Max near the buses. The conversation is short, doesn’t last much longer than a few seconds, and when Max turns away you notice Ms. Kelly’s patient smile drop. Clearly Max still isn’t being cooperative when it comes to their sessions. She promised you she would start trying, but Max Mayfield has always been stubborn and you’ve always been slightly overbearing.

Not the best combination, honestly.

With a sigh, you make a mental note to ask Max about what the counselor talked to her about later. There’s too much going on this morning to focus on it, and you’re already pushing Max by having her attend the pep rally anyways. Originally she had wanted to skip it and hide in the stairwell, but after begging her about it, Max finally agreed.

The conversation can wait. For now, at least she’ll be next to you in the bleachers alongside the boys to cheer on Lucas.

The thought was enough to brighten your mood a little, but it quickly became a pain in the ass to corral the party into sitting together. It took you almost fifteen minutes to find Mike and Dustin in the mass of students heading into the gym. You’re not necessarily sure how it took so goddamn long given the fact that Mike towers over half of the students anyways. He’s grown freakishly tall since starting freshman year. It unnerves you.

While his towering height annoys you, Mike likes that he can finally, literally, look down on you.

“There you guys are!” You grab the back of Mike’s shirt and he lets out a startled yelp. Dustin stumbles back as well, and an annoyed sophomore glares at the three of you. Ignoring her, you grab your brother’s shirt and start dragging the two boys towards the bleachers. “Thought we agreed on meeting at the water fountain that squirts water in your face?”

“I thought it was the library?” Dustin gives you an odd look. “Wait, is there even a water fountain in the library?”

“You amaze me.” You remark, not even bothering to answer his question. He listens like a bag of rocks. Mike just allows you to pull him, not at all contributing to the conversation.

Max waits for you in the bleachers. She’s saved you seats, something that you feel slight relief over. The simple gesture is small, but it sparks just enough hope within your chest to make you exhale softly. Hope that she’s getting better. Hope that she’s finally trying again.

Thanking Max, you and the others fill the seats as the gym quickly fills with more and more students until it threatens to overflow. The roar of the crowd is nearly deafening. Across from the bleachers resides the marching band. They’re playing the school’s anthem as the cheerleaders start their routine. Chrissy Cunningham leads them, her smile lovely and beautiful, she shines so brightly upon the crowd that you can’t help but fall in love with her.

In the midst of the cheerleaders’ twists and flips, Robin manages to catch your eye from across the room.

You eagerly wave at her and mime playing the trumpet, copying her movements as she actually plays one. Robin laughs, and next to her is a girl with fiery red hair who laughs as well. She’s pretty, you’ve heard countless sonnets about her red hair and dotted freckles. Knowing the girl is Vickie, you point at her as you wink at Robin, who scoffs and goes back to playing the trumpet.

Next to you, you catch the tail end of some bizarre conversation between Mike and Dustin.

“Look, I’m not saying that my girlfriend is better than yours.” Dustin is clarifying, glaring at you when he hears your sarcastic snort. “It’s just that Suzie’s, like, a certified genius.”

Mike crosses his arms, looking towards you as if somehow this is all your fault. “Your brother realizes that El saved the world twice, right?”

“Admittedly that is hard to beat,” you shrug. “That, and she has cool powers.”

Dustin points a finger at the two of you. “And yet Mike still has a C in Spanish while you’re barely passing calculus.”

Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug again. Your brother isn’t necessarily wrong either. El’s saved the world, Suzie has saved his GPA. Both are nearly impossible feats. “Touchy subject, but touché.”

“And what can your boyfriend do, Y/N?” Mike asks, now bringing the attention to your love life.

“He’s good with a bat.”

Both Dustin and Mike groan, but you shush them when the school’s broadcaster announces the Tigers basketball team. Applause breaks out across the bleachers and you notice Max looking around for Lucas. Though she tries to hide it, you can see the interest and excitement in her eyes. She’s happy for him, but it breaks your heart that she feels that she can’t show it.

Jason Carver, captain of the basketball team and former Scoops Ahoy patron before Steve spilled ice cream all over his pants, runs out first. The crowd goes wild, but you don’t start cheering until you see Lucas. He’s smiling wide, proud to be a part of the team. You scream as loud as you can for him, he’s come so far since confessing to you about wanting to join the team earlier this year. As Jason starts his speech, dramatic as he always is, Lucas sees you in the bleachers and waves shyly, a blush creeping across his face. Then, seeing Max next to you, his confidence seems to grow as he waves more enthusiastically at her.

The moment is sweet, it makes you smile.

Except Max doesn’t wave back. She crosses her arms, pretends she hasn’t seen him, and your smile drops alongside Lucas’.

You know they’ve been having some trouble recently. With Max pulling away more and more each day, Lucas struggled to hold onto the fading girl. Despite his pleas and reassurances, Max still seems to be icing him out. According to Dustin, they broke up almost a month ago now.

But they’ve always had a tumultuous relationship, long before nightmares and monsters darkened everything. The news hadn’t worried you at first, you thought it was simply another one of their weekly breakups over something small, innocent. Afterall, they were just kids when they first started dating. Their breakups were always childish, though endearing, and always temporary.

Now, you’re scared that this time it’s permanent.

You’re not sure what that means for Max. She already has so few people left in her life to tether her. Billy died, her mother works two jobs and is never home anymore, El is in California, and you and Lucas are breaking skin trying to claw onto whatever small hold you have left of the girl.

Another loud cheer from the crowd breaks you from your thoughts. Jason must’ve just said something important, something worthy enough of a roaring reaction. He’s always been popular in Hawkins, Steve used to complain about him to you back when he was still on the team. But when Steve graduated and Billy died, Hawkins High had needed a new King to crown.

Jason Carver was more than happy to ascend the throne.

“Chrissy, I love you, babe.” Everyone awes and you see Chrissy blow Jason a kiss. It’s sweet, you suppose. They fit together nicely, head cheerleader with the star of the basketball team, and they seem genuinely happy. Chrissy’s shy and kind demeanor balances Jason’s loud and charismatic boldness. They truly are a good match.

“I think I can speak for all of us when I say it’s been a tough year for Hawkins.” Jason continues his speech, the room is eerily silent as everyone listens with baited breath. “So much loss…” The gym almost exhales simultaneously, remembering all the people who died last summer.

Your own breath exhales, and beside you Max tenses. Billy’s ghost floats through your minds, in through hers and out through yours. Hopper’s own ghost follows after him, only he doesn’t haunt Max the way he haunts you. He lingers over you, his final words to you engraved into your skin.

You’re the best of them.

“And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take?”

Enough to fill a mall of burning bodies, you think bitterly.

Jason paces the gym’s floor now, he almost seems to glow before the crowd. He rambles on about needing something to believe in. That everyone should be doing something to honor all the lives lost in July, that playing basketball can absolve all the despair. As if it can bring them back.

Deep below your ribcage, nestled right underneath your scar and just in front of your stomach, rests a pit of anger that always simmers. You were born with it, it has always followed you. It has grown with you, the anger almost possessed your body when your dad left. Now, hearing Jason recite all the names of the ones who died that Fourth of July, the anger’s low simmer heats into a soft boil.

You try to quell it. Jason means well, he’s only trying to uplift the community in a passionate, albeit uncomfortably pastor-y way. He’s only doing what he knows best; he’s being a leader. In another life, one where Demogorgons never harmed you, you think you would’ve really admired Jason and his resilience.

“Think of Billy,” Your breath stills, yet your hand instinctively finds Max’s. She turns away from you, but the room is spinning and you can’t remember how to inhale. But Jason keeps going. “Think about our heroic police chief, Jim Hopper.”

Next to you, in your haze of grief and panic, you think you can feel Mike and Dustin shift uncomfortably. Grief sinks her claws into the kids, and you want nothing more than to puncture Jason’s lungs with them.

This was supposed to be a pep rally for the Tigers, it was supposed to be joyous, an opportunity to bring Max out of her shell. To distract her from the hell that she calls her life. The entire school knows what happened to Billy, they know that he had a little sister named Max Mayfield.

You hate Jason Carver.

But you’re here for Lucas. Today is about him. He’s finally happy, he’s smiling again. The least you can do is swallow down the anger and grief and hope that you don’t end up choking on them later. That they don’t strangle you in your dreams.

“And now tonight, we’re gonna bring home the championship trophy!” Jason screams into the mic, erupting a volcanic roar from the stadium. People throw paper into the air, whistling and jumping up and down at the prospect of Hawkins High finally winning a championship.

“Tonight?” Dustin’s agonized exclamation causes you to jump. He looks at you, bewildered and panicked. “How is that possible?”

Your heart still hasn’t steadied from the surge of fury Jason evoked. Swallowing once again, you clear your throat and shake your head at your brother. “What, you guys didn’t know about the game tonight?”

“They call it a tournament,” Max explains for you, figuring you need some time to clear your head. You squeeze her hand appreciatively. “You win one game, you go on until there’s only one team left.”

Mike and Dustin exchange frightened looks, and you eye them suspiciously. “Did you guys really not know? I thought Steve explained all of this to you already. Why is it such a big deal, anyways? I mean–wait,” the boys won’t meet your gaze. They avoid facing you, Mike stuffs his hands into his pockets and Dustin pretends to read someone’s poster.

You know the fearful look on their faces. It’s the same look Dustin gave you this morning when he ditched you to ride with Nancy and Mike.

Goddamn Eddie Munson.

“Oh, don’t you guys dare.” They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t fucking dream of missing one of Lucas’ games for a stupid club centered around some guy with enormous ego problems. “I swear to God, if you two skip the game tonight–”

“We won’t! I-I mean… Well. It’s, uh. It’s complicated” Dustin gulps, elbowing his way through the crowd of departing students as the pep rally ends. Mike follows, ready to step in at any moment, while Max slips away before you can stop her. Seeing how contorted your body is from anger, Dustin tries to appease you. “Look, I can’t promise anything, alright? Eddie is… Eddie.”

You’re about to scream some very choice words about that curly haired emo asshole, but Lucas intercepts the group and joins you guys. He looks between you, Mike, and Dustin, sensing some underlying tension. “What about Eddie?”

Mike quickly explains, and the more he talks, the more you want to shove your knives down Eddie’s throat. It’s one night, one goddamn night, and here Mike and Dustin are, almost shitting their pants at the idea of missing one Hellfire meeting to support their friend. While it’s unfortunate that all of this is happening on the same night, and though you recognize how long a campaign can take and how much the game means to the party, for once you can’t bring yourself to understand Dustin’s side.

A championship game versus one single campaign meeting that can easily be done tomorrow instead.

Seems like a pretty easy decision to you.

Lucas doesn’t understand why Mike and Dustin are so conflicted either. “I don’t get the big deal.” You’re all outside now, heading towards the main building for your classes. “Just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire to another night.”

You nod, agreeing with him, and Dustin rolls his eyes. “‘Just talk to Eddie.’”

“You can’t be serious right now,” your shoulder brushes harshly against the boy’s. You’re barely containing your anger right now. “Why does Eddie have such a strong hold over you guys? Hasn’t he repeated senior year twice now?”

“Why does that matter?” Mike looks at you as if you’re the scum of the earth that he just so happened to step on. “Why can’t Lucas just talk to his coach and get him to move the game?”

Dustin quips that he thinks Mike’s idea is a great one, but you shove between them and throw your hands in the air in annoyance. “You can’t possibly think that’s the same thing, right? A nationally organized game being postponed for a board game.”

Mike and Dustin both gasp at you, acting as if you’ve just threatened to kill a baby bunny in front of them, which only annoys you more. Sure, maybe you’re being a little mean right now, but you’re not appreciating how they’re treating Lucas. He’s never done anything to warrant this blatant disrespect from them. They’re refusing to see his side, too lost in their Eddie induced high.

“DnD isn’t just a board game, Y/N! I’m honestly disappointed that you of all people would even say that. You’ve seen the intricacies of a campaign. You know I’ve spent all month now preparing for the end of Eddie’s campaign!” Dustin waves his hands in front of him, he’s in his own ecstasy of anger and annoyance, something innate in the Henderson bloodline. “A semester of adventuring has led to this moment, and we need Lucas.”

“Yeah, and the Tigers don’t.” Mike looks over at Lucas. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve been on the bench all year–shit!”

You swat the back of Mike’s head, the sound of his yelp satisfying and the sting of the hit soothes you. He looks at you, offended, and you just shake your head at him. “No, that was out of line and you know it.”

“One day I’m gonna be too tall for you to hit me, you know.” Mike scowls at you as he rubs his head.

“And I’ll mourn the day when that happens,” you respond dryly before pointing at Lucas. “Now, apologize to him before I hit you again.”

Lucas lowers your finger and shakes his head. “It’s fine, Y/N. Me being on the bench isn’t the point, anyways.”

“Please, arrive at the point.” Your brother drops his head back and closes his eyes. He’s tired, he regrets even starting this conversation in the first place. The more the four of you talk, the angrier he can feel you become. Mike’s head may now be sore, but Dustin lives with you. If anyone here is in danger of your lecturing, it’s him.

“If I get in good with these guys, I’ll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too.” Lucas explains, looking between Dustin and Mike as he urges them to understand, but they don’t. Mike claims that they don’t want to be popular, something that Lucas doesn’t believe. “What, you wanna be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years?”

“We are nerds and freaks!” Dustin exclaims, causing a few students in the hall to look at you guys. You wave at them awkwardly, you’re starting to regret following the boys. This conversation feels personal, like you shouldn’t be intruding. Though you think Lucas has every right to want a good high school experience, you also think Mike and Dustin deserve to have their own experiences as well. If they don’t want to be popular, then that’s their decision just as much as it’s Lucas’ to want to be.

You step between the three boys, finally getting their attention. “Guys, no one here is necessarily right or wrong. Lucas has every right to want to be a part of the basketball crowd, and you two,” you raise your eyebrows at Mike and Dustin, “have every right to want to stick with Eddie’s crowd.”

Dustin sighs, “thanks, Y/N–”

“I’m not finished,” you hold a hand up and shush your brother. “What isn’t right, however, is abandoning one another. You guys are friends, and right now Lucas wants you at his game tonight to support him. Tonight is special, everyone will be there, and I want you guys there as well. I know high school is hard, but it’s even harder when you’re alone.”

“Says the girl who is adored by everyone in this shitty town.” Mike huffs, he can’t believe how hypocritical you’re being. “You’ve never had to deal with what we do. No one has ever laughed at you or tried to make you jump off a cliff just because you’re different.”

You clench your jaw. Dustin looks at you wearily, he doesn’t like what Mike is saying, but he also can’t help but agree with his friend. You haven’t ever been bullied. All your life you’ve blended in, stood out only when you were kind to others, admired for your selflessness, but never enough to be invited to parties or dumped behind a dumpster.

“Mike…” Your brother tries to pull him away from you, but you both stand your ground.

“You’re right, Wheeler. I don’t know what it’s like.” You stare up at the boy, and Mike’s expression softens only slightly. He’s just as stubborn as you are, it’s why the two of you admire the other so much. “But you forget that I’m Jonathan’s best friend. The creep, the loser, the psychopath. Kids may not have ever targeted me, but I’ve seen what they do to the people they hate.”

All the times you had to ice Jonathan’s bruised face. The nights you spent in his room holding him as he cried because Lonnie’s fists and Tommy’s cruel words were too much. The sneers, the stares Jonathan received because he was different. Quiet. Being your best friend hadn’t lessened the blows.

For years you wish you could’ve done more for Jonathan. Now, presented with Lucas’ opportunity to befriend the crowd that once was so cruel to your friend, you refuse to lose it. “That’s why I don’t want Lucas skipping the game tonight.”

It’s silent for a few moments, all three boys don’t know what to say. Taking a deep breath, Lucas stands beside you and breaks the silence. “We came to high school wanting things to be different, right? Now we have that chance. Like Y/N said, if I skip tonight, that’s all out the window. So I’m asking you guys, as a friend, just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire.”

Lucas pauses, he wets his lips and looks between his friends again. He feels so small, pleading for their attention. “Come to my game. Please.”

The bell rings, ending the conversation, and Lucas spares one last look at Dustin and Mike before mumbling a soft goodbye to you. He leaves you alone with the boys, who in turn mirror conflicted expressions.

“Shit!” Dustin kicks his foot out and looks at you. “This is all your fault, you know that?”

“What is?”

“Me having empathy. I hate this. Why couldn’t you have raised me to be an asshole?”

You snort at Dustin before pulling him into a weak hug. You only have a few more minutes before you need to get to class, you can’t stay very long, but you also don’t want to leave the boys without some semblance of comfort. “You’re too charming to be an asshole. Just… Come to the game, alright? Both of you. I’ll even make brownies if I have to. I just-I’ve missed you guys. This will be good for all of us.”

Mike ducks his head and Dustin sighs once more. Neither want to say anything else, so you reluctantly release your brother and leave them alone to wallow in their self-created misery.

They’ll do the right thing. You’re sure of it.

–

Lunch comes and Alex sits next to you. He started sitting with you at lunch just after winter break, and you’re endlessly grateful for him. You’re no longer alone, and he’s good company. A part of you regrets that it took the two of you three years to grow your friendship outside of Bookstrorindary.

You’ll miss him when you graduate.

Max is with Ms. Kelly today, a change in their usual meeting schedule of Tuesdays and Thursdays, meaning you had been right. She did skip their meeting yesterday and the counselor had to corner her this morning to schedule another one.

“Be honest, how excited are you to move to New York this summer?” Alex asks you, taking a bite out of his carrot stick. You’ve come to learn that he has a weird obsession with the vegetable, always packing at least twelve of them every day.

You pick at your own lunch, a wilted salad and sandwich your mom left for you this morning. “Honestly? It hasn’t really hit me yet. I mean, I only got in last week. I think my mind is still trying to catch up with reality.”

“Oh, c’mon. You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh and nudge the boy. “I’m a little excited. I just.. Haven’t really had time to think too much about it, you know? Between work, my brother, Steve, the kids, and…”

“Jonathan?” Alex finishes for you. He’s the only one who knows about how distant Jonathan has been. You’ve confided in him about how worried you are, about the phone calls while he’s high and the way Jonathan’s voice no longer sounds like his.

You shove your lunch away, no longer hungry. “Yeah.”

“You guys call every Friday, right? Maybe tonight will be different!” Alex tries to cut through the tension that now corrodes your demeanor, which you smile at him gratefully for.

“Yeah, who knows.” A piece of hair falls in your face and you push it behind your ear. Picking up your fork again, you attempt to finish your meal, but a sudden commotion interrupts the low buzz in the lunchroom.

“As long as you’re into band, or science, or parties.” Eddie Munson sneers from the cafeteria table he’s standing on. He looks around the room as if everyone else is beneath him. Not worth his time just because they enjoy different things. Looking at Alex, you both sigh and prepare for whatever Eddie has to say today. His voice grows louder, shouting across the room towards the basketball team’s table. “Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!”

Jason stands up and a few students whoop and cheer. “You want something, freak?”

Eddie sticks to fingers up behind his head as he creates little devil horns, snarling with his tongue out and hissing. Jason grimaces, you do too.

“He’s a little much, isn’t he?” You say to Alex, relieved when Eddie starts to step down from the table.

“He terrifies me.” Alex breathes out, not taking his eyes off Eddie in fear he’ll somehow cast a spell on him.

You laugh at your friend’s unnecessary fear. Eddie is harmless, Hellfire isn’t a demonic cult like some students at Hawkins seem to think. It really is just a club centered around a board game with impressive storytelling and detailed plotlines. From what Dustin has told you, Eddie truly is the best dungeon master in Indiana.

And while you believe him, you can’t wrap your head around why your brother idolizes Eddie so much. The fascination runs deeper than just DnD. Dustin has spent almost every day of his freshman year wrapped around Eddie’s finger. He spends all his time with the teen now, rarely with you, but you’re not bitter. Of course you’re not. Dustin can have his own friends, you know this, but you also feel so… unneeded.

Your little brother doesn’t need you anymore, and it’s a hard pill to swallow.

Truthfully, Alex’s question earlier about moving to New York in the summer sparked more than just your usual anxiety over Jonathan. It also reminded you that in only a few short months you’ll be in an entirely new state, a new city, far away from Dustin.

“Y/N!” Dustin flies into the seat next to you, nearly upending the table itself with how violently he throws himself down.

Alex shrieks and you steady the table before anything can fall. Heart pounding, you clutch at your chest as your nerves settle. “Why must you always be so violent?”

“Because it’s fun,” Dustin responds, not even bothering to acknowledge Alex’s presence. Instead, his eyes are only on you, and there’s a crazed spark in them. He’s breathing heavily, frantic, and you dread where this is going. “Look, I need to ask you a huge favor.”

“Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve sat with me at lunch since the first day?”

He winces. “And I will repent every day for my horrendous sins. I promise, I just–Jesus you’re terrifying when you don’t blink.” Dustin removes his hat to fix his hair, a nervous tick of his. He’s stalling, he should’ve never come here. Gulping, he rips the band aid off. “I need you to sub for Lucas tonight.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re giving him an out, one chance to back down before you strangle him.

Only Dustin tightens the noose even more. “Please, Y/N! Eddie won’t move the campaign. He said something about sheep and-and finding subs because Mike and I are, uh. I guess the future of Hellfire and he needs us and did I mention how important this campaign is? It’s super cool, super gory and totally up your alley and–”

“No.”

“N-no?” Dustin practically deflates in front of you, the light in his eyes dies.

You shove him away from you, you don’t want to look at his pathetic pouting. You’re so unbelievably hurt right now, so fucking infuriated. “You have spent every goddamn waking hour ass kissing Eddie. You haven’t so much as looked at me during lunch this entire year as if I’m a fucking plague. You’ve canceled plans, you’re hardly ever home, and now you expect me to abandon Lucas, someone who has spent time with me this year, someone who has made this entire year less lonely for me. Something, by the way, that you haven’t even noticed, all because you finally need me?”

Dustin’s mouth opens and closes, he doesn’t know what to say, but for once you don’t care. How could he possibly think you’d miss Lucas’ game tonight? You adore the boys, each and every one of them, and now Dustin expects you to just abandon one of them for the others?

“You’re only here because it’s convenient for you.” You hiss, venom pouring from your voice. “For Eddie.”

“Y/N…” Dustin’s voice breaks, he sounds like a little kid again, the baby brother you doted on your entire life. “Please.”

“No!” You scream at him.

The word echoes throughout the cafeteria. A few students turn to you, some curious, some annoyed. Alex draws into himself, wishing he were anywhere but here right now. Dustin’s eyes widen, his skin pales, and you clamp your hand over your mouth, completely and utterly mortified.

You’ve never, ever yelled at Dustin like this before. Not with so much malice, vitriol.

You feel like you’re twelve again, your anger hurting your baby brother.

Red hot with embarrassment and shame, you quickly get up from the table and flee the cafeteria. Dustin calls after you, but you stumble through the hallway towards the nearest bathroom. Tears burn your eyes, guilt wracks your body in painful thuds.

By the time you lock yourself in the bathroom’s stall, your sobs have begun to claw their way out of your throat. Pressing your back against the wall, you sink to the ground and pull your knees into your chest as you finally allow yourself to cry.

Abandonment makes you cruel. Your father taught you that.

–

You don’t see Dustin for the rest of the day. He’s missing Lucas’ game and you’re angry with him for that, but you also feel such an intense guilt over your outburst. You can’t stomach the thought of seeing him.

School ends and Steve drives you to work. The shift will be a short one due to the championship game, and Steve is staying with you so that you can drive to the game together. However, the moment you get into his car, he notices the dried tears on your face and the redness in your eyes and immediately throws his arms around you. In between shaky breaths and cries, you explain what happened to Steve.

He soothes you, tells you that you can always talk to Dustin after tonight’s game. Right now you and your brother need space from one another, and you hate that Steve’s right. You’ll force Dustin into a code blue, you’re long overdue for one, anyways. He’s been acting weird for weeks now. Someone has to give in, you know this, and if it has to be you then you’ll do anything to get your brother back.

For now, Steve holds your hand as he guides you through the crowd of people in the bleachers. They all cheer for Hawkins High, the energy in the gym is electric. Faces are painted, cheerleaders wave their pom-poms, and you’re wearing Steve’s old Tigers jersey. You’re not much for school spirit, but Steve almost crashed the car when he realized you were wearing the jersey, and you know Lucas will appreciate it too.

“Y/N, over here.” Steve’s hand falls onto the small of your back as he gently pushes you towards some open seats he’s found. You lean into his touch and sit beside him. With his body against yours, you try to immerse yourself in the joy from the crowd.

The entire town is here tonight. Everyone is smiling, kids laugh and parents wave posters for their sons. Tonight will be a good night, you’ve decided this to be true.

The national anthem is announced and everyone rises in their seats. When the broadcaster announces that Tammy Thompson will be singing, you and Steve look at each other incredulously. Laughter rises within you and you cackle when Robin finds the two of you in the crowd. There’s no way this won’t end in disaster.

Tammy walks out, wearing a horrendous faux cowboy outfit, and almost immediately sings off-key. You cringe, ears stinging from the attack, and try desperately not to let out any laughter as she continues to butcher the song.

Steve whispers over to Robin, “told you. Muppet.”

“Okay, she does sound like a muppet.” Robin agrees, which only makes it harder to contain your giggles. Tammy is worse than a muppet, she sounds like a goddamn muppet that broke into her dad’s alcohol stash.

“You sound better, angel.” Steve whispers into your ear, breath warm against your skin.

You lean back against him and smile sarcastically. “Anyone can sound better than her.”

Steve chuckles and you can’t help but join him. You know it’s rude, that Tammy is honestly not that bad, though definitely not good enough for Nashville, but you can’t help it. You can’t believe Robin ever had such a huge crush on the girl who now drones the national anthem like a dying parrot.

In between breaths of laughter, you see Lucas looking up at the bleachers. His face is grim, he doesn’t see Mike or Dustin or Max. None of his friends showed up, and you watch him with sympathy. You can’t believe them.

But then Lucas sees you, and he gives you a weak smile. Your attendance isn’t enough, you know it isn’t, but you hold up the poster you made for him and he laughs despite himself.

The game starts, and from the moment the whistle is blown, it’s intense. The Tigers are neck and neck with the Falcons. Steve tries to explain what’s happening throughout the game, but it all goes over your head. The energy in the room is intoxicating, though. You lean forward in your seat, you cheer when everyone else does, boo when you think you should.

“Carver just loves hogging the spotlight, doesn’t he?” Steve says with disdain as he watches Jason side sweep his teammates to score.

You poke his side, you know he’s only saying this because he’s still bitter that Jason tried asking you out last summer. “Honey, your jealousy is showing.”

Steve tries to deny this, but then a player gets injured during a foul from Falcon, causing you and Steve to both spew insults at the player. You have no idea what the foul even is, but you’re enjoying the chaos of the game.

In the midst of your uproar, you almost miss Lucas being sent into the game. You slap Steve’s chest repeatedly to get his attention, you almost don’t believe what you’re seeing. “Steve! Is that–”

“Sinclair!” He whoops, but he quickly scrambles to catch you as you nearly throw yourself off the bleachers in your blind excitement cheering. You’re screaming your head off, hardly even registering Steve’s hands on your waist. You’re incoherent and ecstatic, drunk on adrenaline.

Lucas is playing.

The game only gets more brutal from there. The points even out, both teams neck and neck. Anxious, you squeeze Steve’s hand with anticipation. Everything happens so fast, Lucas plays so naturally with the others, as if he was born to be there.

“Go, Tigers!” You jump up and down as Lucas runs after Jason. They’re doing a new play, attempting to score the tie breaker. Jason shoots, the ball hits off the backboard and onto the rim. Your breath catches, there’s only three seconds left on the clock. The ball falls, and there isn’t any time left.

Until Lucas catches the missed shot. He dribbles the ball, you clutch Steve’s hand, neither one of you utters a single word as Lucas makes the final shot. It’s an all or nothing throw, a risk, but he takes it anyways. The ball soars through the air, hits the rim. The buzzer sounds, the game is over, and the ball spins around the rim before finally sinking through the net.

Your chest burns as you violently cheer, Steve flings himself into your arms. You’re both jumping around, screaming together like little kids. “Hey did it!” You scream, and Steve shakes you in his arms with the biggest smile on his face.

“Sinclair did it!”

Down below, Lucas’ face lights up as the crowd goes wild for him. This is the happiest you’ve seen the kid in so long. The entire basketball team swarms Lucas, they lift him into the air and you cheer alongside them.

Steve tells you he’ll go warm the car up and you practically run outside to find Lucas as soon as the game is done. Your body buzzes, you’re still breathless with exhilaration. When you find Lucas, he’s just left the crowd of teenage boys. Wanting to surprise him, you creep up slowly before throwing your arms from behind him. “There’s the star!”

He stumbles from your weight, but he knows it’s you. Laughing, he turns around and you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “You came!”

“Of course I did, you moron!” You giggle, pulling away to straighten his jacket. “I made you a poster and everything.”

Lucas looks down at the poster that hangs by your side. His eyes light up, he remembers seeing it in the stands at the beginning of the game, but he hadn’t been able to read it from so far away. “Can I see it?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t want to see it.” You unroll the poster and present it with a grand flourish. “Tada!”

Sin to win, Sinclair!

You’re incredibly proud of the wordplay, and Lucas chuckles. It’s good, he has to admit. You’ve left no white space on the poster, littering with small 8’s for his jersey and millions of small stickers and decorations. The poster was made with love, and Lucas knows you spent hours making it.

“I love it, Y/N.” He does. It will hang on his wall as soon as he gets home.

You beam at him. Then, from behind you, you hear your brother’s own cheers as a door opens. Lucas’ smile fades, hurt creeps upon his face. Frowning, you turn and find Dustin and Mike high fiving their Hellfire friends as they all celebrate the end of their campaign. Erica is with them, cheering with everyone else.

“Lucas…” Your breath gives out. He doesn’t deserve this. Tonight was supposed to be his night. You turn to him, wracking your brain to try and figure out what you’re even supposed to say at this moment. Fifty feet away Lucas’ close friends are celebrating a night without him, his sister overjoyed as well. They’ve forgotten about him.

For once, you can’t find the right words to say.

“Thanks for the poster, Y/N.” Lucas doesn’t want your sympathy. He leaves, crestfallen, and you’re left standing alone holding the poster he had been praising seconds ago. The late March air chills your bones.

You’ve never been so disappointed in your brother before.

–

Steve drives you home and you’re silent the entire time.

“Dustin isn’t a bad kid, Y/N. You know that.” Steve tries to reason with you, but what your brother has done tonight leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “I’m sure by tomorrow he’ll realize he was a jerk and apologize. He always does, he’s just being a stupid teen boy right now.”

You face the window, watching the trees fading into the distance. You know Steve is right, you know that Dustin is still growing up, making mistakes. Hell, no one is perfect at fifteen. When you were his age you were falling in love with your best friend as you hunted monsters together. Neither you or Jonathan or Nancy knew what the hell you guys were doing back then.

But this is different. Dustin has never betrayed his friends like this before. He, out of all of them, should understand the pain of being left behind. He spent half the summer upset that the party ditched him, and now he’s ditching Lucas?

“You know, I used to be a stupid teen boy.” Steve says, trying again to get you to say something. To look at him, at least.

It works, a small smile turns your lips. “I never knew.”

He laughs at the sarcasm in your voice, but he plays along anyways. “Oh, I totally was. I just hid it really well by, you know, making you hate me for a while by being annoying. But hey, look at me now! I’m still annoying, but at least I have it all figured out with you.”

“And what do you have figured out, honey?” You turn your head towards him, watch the street lamps illuminate his face.

Steve smiles. “Us. Our future. Sure, I may not know if I’ll ever get a better job, but I’m sure as shit staying with you, starting a life together so that I can annoy you for all eternity.”

“How romantic,” a giggle falls from your lips. You’ve been with Steve for nearly a year now, but you haven’t really talked about the future yet. At least not so intimately, with so much assurance that in the end it’ll be the two of you. “And where will we live, Romeo?”

“New York, obviously. As soon as you graduate, we’ll find some horrible, run down apartment that’s barely big enough for two people. We’ll move in, but there won’t be any air conditioning so we’ll almost murder each other in the heat. Everyone will hate the place, but we’ll love it.”

As Steve talks, the smile that had once been on your face begins to fade. He rambles on, not noticing the shift. He dreams up the plans, how he’ll stay home while you go to class. How he’ll fix the leaky faucet that will inevitably annoy everyone. Steve envisions himself waiting for you to come home after a long day of classes and falling into his arms.

“Steve–” But he doesn’t hear you. He’s busy explaining how he’ll probably have to sell his car to afford the apartment, but that he doesn’t care, and you feel sick. It’s too much, he’s giving up too much. He’s willing to give up his entire life for you, drop everything and follow you without any questions asked.

It’s what your mother did for your father. They met in college, both attending Purdue. Their relationship had been a whirlwind. Love at first sight, married as soon as they graduated, your father convinced your mom to follow him back to Virginia. To abandon her family and move two states over while pregnant with you. She didn’t know anyone in Virginia, her father moved them to a small town where only his name was known.

The divorce that followed twelve years later ruined your mother’s life. She had been left all alone, no family to support her, no friends, in a state she never grew up in.

And now Steve wants to do the same for you.

Raising your voice slightly, you try to interrupt him again. “Steve!”

“What?” He looks over at you, words finally dying. “Do you want to keep the car?”

“You… you can’t.”

Steve frowns. “I can’t what?”

Your hands shake. Your heart trembles. Your words die in your throat. There’s so much you want to say, you can feel the pit in your stomach build into a fist. You can’t let Steve do this. He doesn’t understand that he deserves more than this. “You-you can’t come to New York.”

Everything stills. You don’t dare to breathe, to disrupt the silence. Your words come out all wrong, you know they do, but they’re out in the open and Steve doesn’t look at you as he pulls into your driveway. Silent, he turns the car’s engine off.

“Y/N…” Steve still can’t look at you. He places his hands on the steering wheel, as if bracing himself for whatever will unfold tonight. He’s scared, he doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong. His mind flashes, and for a brief second he’s back at the Halloween party and you’re Nancy in his passenger seat. “Do you not see a future with me?”

“I do!” You sit up in your seat, reach over to touch Steve’s thigh. You need to feel him, to ground yourself to him. Everything about this feels wrong. As if you’re hanging over the edge of a chasm with a long, long fall. “God, of course I see a future with you, I just-this isn’t what you really want.”

Steve doesn’t want to move to New York, even if he doesn’t realize it now. What he’s really doing is chasing after a dream that isn’t his. The timing of this is off, he fought with his dad this morning about a future he was unsure of. You know Steve, maybe even better than he knows himself; he’s not doing it for your relationship or out of love. Steve only wants to appease his father, fulfill whatever desire he thinks you have. This isn’t what he wants, and he’s worked too hard to build the life he has now, without you, to simply throw it all away.

But he can’t see that right now.

“Of course this is what I want, Y/N! All I want is you.” Steve finally looks at you, but there’s a hardness in his eyes. He’s detaching himself from you, putting his walls up. “You and me, that’s what I want.”

You grab his hand, you try to keep your voice calm. “Steve, I love you so, so much, but I can’t-I can’t let you give everything up for me. Your life is here, in Hawkins. You have a job, you have your friends and-and your family, and it wouldn’t be fair to either one of us if you abandon it for me. You could-you could resent me for it later, you could realize you hate our life and wish you never followed me and–”

“Y/N, what did you think was going to happen when you were applying to all those colleges?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, he thought you were beside him this whole time. He assumed you’d been carving out the same future he had been. But he was wrong. “Did you really think I’d just stay behind and wait for you to come home every break?”

“I…” Shamefully, you hadn't been considering what would happen between you and Steve. In your mind, he was your future, he was in it, but the details were hazy. You weren’t sure how, or why, or when, but you knew that in the end, Steve was the person you’d spend forever with.

Steve takes your hesitancy as his answer. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Steve–”

“You were just going to leave me.”

He tears his hand from yours and you blink back tears. You’ve never fought with him before, not like this. ��I wasn’t just going to leave you! I just-Steve, please just listen!”

“I am, Y/N!” Steve exclaims, voice reverberating the car. You flinch away, and he immediately lowers his voice, apologetic. He hadn’t meant to scare you, he hadn’t meant to make you cry. Ashamed, Steve turns away from you. “I-I’m sorry.”

He wants to wipe the tears he’s caused, but selfishly he also wants you to hurt like he’s hurting. You don’t see a future with Steve. You were going to leave him just like everyone else does.

Steve should’ve known all of this was too good to be true.

“I love you,” your voice is almost inaudible, the three words barely reach the light before they disappear into the dark night. You’re not sure why you say them, the words had built in your chest, the pressure heavy, and you needed to release them. To remind Steve of your oath to him.

Silence fills the car. Steve doesn’t look at you, his shoulders are drawn together. His jaw clenches and you know he’s trying desperately to bite his tongue, withholding the cruel words that only heartbreak can provoke.

“Honey,” you beg him to say something, anything. “Steve.”

“I think you should go.”

The dismissal punches your throat, knocks the wind out of you. He’s shutting you out, closing himself off from you, and you don’t understand how the two of you got here. “I… Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Steve’s words are cool, composed. Indifferent, almost. He still doesn’t look at you, his eyes remain focused on something in your driveway. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.”

“Okay,” you don’t want to leave, you know it isn’t good to go to bed angry with the one you love. Anger should never simmer, it should never be left unwatched. But Steve is silently asking you to give him space so that he can hurt, and you aren’t selfish enough to deny his request. And yet you’re selfish enough to press your lips to Steve’s cheek, but he doesn’t lean in like how normally does. Instead, he remains stoic, and you swallow down your tears and open the door to leave. “Drive home safe, honey.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he starts the car as soon as the door is closed and drives away. He doesn't look back, he doesn’t wait to see if you’ve made it inside your house safely.

Tears spill down your face as you blindly walk towards your front door. Your argument with Steve replays over and over again in your head. You analyze every second, every word, you try to understand when everything fell apart.

It’s dark in your home, your mother is asleep and Dustin’s door is closed, but right now all you want is your brother. You need to talk to him, cry into his shoulder and smell the shampoo he’s used ever since he was a baby. Your feet carry you to Dustin’s room and you pound on his door, begging him to let you in. You don’t bother masking the tears in your voice, you’re too exhausted to hide them from him. “Dustin, please let me in.”

“Go away!” There’s a thud on the door, he’s thrown something at it to shut you up. He doesn’t want to hear some stupid lecture right now. He knows he was an asshole tonight, he regrets it, but right now all Dustin wants to do is sleep. He’ll deal with you tomorrow.

“Code blue,” you press your forehead against the door, your tears fall to the ground. “C-code blue.” Your voice hiccups, more tears come, minutes pass, and your brother never answers.

For the first time since you were kids, Dustin rejects your request for a code blue.

The phone rings. The sound pierces through your ears, cuts through the headache that is starting to form. It’s Friday night. Jonathan is calling.

Squeezing your eyes shut as you head pounds, you inhale shakily. You have to answer him, otherwise he’ll only call over and over again with concern. You’ve never missed a phone call, not once in the months since Jonathan has moved, but tonight you’re exhausted.

“Can we call tomorrow?” You’re too tired to greet him and voice cracks, revealing far too much already.

“Bug?” Jonathan’s high, he’s always high. And yet even in his cloudy haze of smoke he can hear the anguish in your voice. “Is everythin’ okay?”

His question only makes you cry more. You’ve always tried your best to put up a front for others, to pretend that everything is okay. You’ve never wanted to worry people, you’ve always pushed aside your own hurt for the sake of others. Now, as anger and grief and despair clasp their hands around your throat, you’re terrified you’ll suffocate.

You’ve never been able to lie to Jonathan, and tonight you don’t think you can. “I’ve had… the worst night.” You confess to him, wiping away tears.

You tell him everything, your fight with Dustin, how you think he may resent you leaving for college. You tell Jonathan about Lucas, how you were so disappointed in Dustin and Mike. Choking through tears, you explain to Jonathan your fight with Steve. How your words failed you, how hurt he looked, that you can’t explain to him how he only wants his future to align with yours, but not with your relationship.

Even though you know that Jonathan won’t remember any of this tomorrow, for once you’re grateful that he’s too high to remember anything. It feels good just being able to say it all out loud.

“‘M sorry, bug.” Jonathan mumbles over the phone once you’ve finished explaining everything. He sounds far away, figuratively and literally. You can’t imagine how much his drugged mind retained, but you’re thankful to have gotten it all off your chest anyways.

“It’s fine,” you inhale again, you’ve finally stopped crying, though your chest still hurts and your head still pounds. “Steve and I… We’ll figure it out.”

Jonathan pauses, and for a moment you think he’s fallen asleep, but then his voice floats through the telephone line. “Do you.. Do you ever wonder if we’ve made a mistake?”

He strings his words slowly together, says them one by one with a hesitancy, and you frown. You don’t understand what he’s trying to say. What mistakes could you have made together? “What do you mean, bee?”

“I just… everythin’ is so hard. With Nance. Feel like�� like ‘m never enough for her. And you, Steve. ‘S hard between you guys.” Jonathan’s words slur, he’s almost too incoherent to understand, and later you will wish that you hadn’t been able to understand him at all. “But you ‘n me? ‘S easy. Always so easy.”

His words toe the line between you, he can’t mean any of it. You don’t want him to mean any of it, because then the fallout would be too catastrophic to contain.

He’s Jonathan. Your oldest, dearest friend. Your best friend. Years ago, you could’ve been something more, you almost were something more, but the time has passed.

You’re with Steve now, you’re happy and so, so in love with him. Even though everything is tangled between you right now, even though you’re fighting, you know that you and Steve will figure it out. He’s the one. He’s the man you want to marry one day, if he’ll allow you to.

Jonathan is your past, Steve is your future, and right now you’re terrified that soon you’ll lose them both.

“Jonathan,” you finally say, his name now heavy on your tongue. It feels like you’re betraying someone while saying his name, but you need to end this conversation. Before Jonathan says something he’ll regret in the morning. “You love Nancy, I love Steve, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Love you,” Jonathan’s words slur even more, his voice drifting off. “You, always you…”

You slam the phone done, ending the call, as a chill runs down your spine. Silence encases you, the house is still. The strings and threads from years ago constrict around your throat. You choke on the lines Jonathan has crossed tonight, the tightness in your head stabs against your skull.

There is no one to hear you, no one there to hear your final words to your best friend. “Goodbye, Jonathan.”

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #bdyr #m's writing #SEASON 4 EVERYONE CHEER !!!!#also i dont hate eddie but bug does #lmao

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mpregandproud · 30 days ago

Text

Santa Claus has come early this year

“Did we have to wait until the last minute to leave for a trip to my parents' house?”, I asked Trevor from the back seat of his car. I was nervous about seeing my family again for the first time in four years. And if you add to that the fact that I'm going to introduce my boyfriend, it's even stronger. But it doesn't stop there, because, surprise surprise, I'm about to give birth to twins, and at home they don't know it.

“My love, I haven't been able to take a vacation from work before. Remember, we need this job now that we are going to be four at home”, Trevor answered me with a smile, the one that made me fall in love with him years ago.

“Sure, if you hadn't insisted on fucking me without a condom the night of our graduation I wouldn't be like this now…and you know it”, I replied as a new contraction twisted me in pain. They've been happening with increasing frequency for a couple of hours now, but they say it's normal to have contractions the last few weeks of pregnancy.

“I don't remember you putting up much resistance. In fact, you had been insisting for months to fuck without condom, that nothing would happen”, again he was right.

The pain was returning, and it had only been a few seconds since the previous contraction. This didn't look good at all, for whatever reason, it seemed that my body was preparing to give birth immediately. I lifted up my shirt so I could touch my belly directly and somehow ease the pain. “Not now, my loves, wait a few days we have to get to Grandma and Grandpa's house and enjoy Christmas,” I whispered so quietly so Trevor wouldn't hear me and not alarm him.

“Scott, I know that in addition to your nerves about coming home after all this time you've been having contractions for hours. I've seen you looking sore and holding your belly with your hands non-stop since we've left our home. Are you sure you don't want us to turn around and go to the hospital?” he said very sweetly. Trevor doesn't miss a thing, as usual for him. He has always been very observant, especially when it comes to me. I've tried to hide it as best I can, but it's clear that with him I'm not going to be able to fool him that easily.

“No, I'm ok", I lied. "Let's keep going, we are no far from my parents house. The braxton hicks contractions are getting stronger than I thought they were going to be, but I'm ok, dear”, I replied.

The night before Trevor and I fucked so intensely that I guess it has accelerated labor. It was our way of taking out our physical needs for a few days. At my parents' house it won't be easy to fuck having them in the next room, let alone when my mother sees that I'm about to give birth. As a doctor she is sure to recommend absolute rest, and no sex. I gently stroked the huge belly I've been sporting for months now. It will be impossible for her to let us do dirty things when she sees me this fat because of the pregnancy. I look like a beach ball.

I had always been a skinny boy, until I started playing rugby at the age of 16 and my physique changed. In a few months I grew 20 centimeters, put on weight and gained muscle. I went from being the ugly duckling in class to a swan. In my village, which was very small, hardly anyone knew I was gay, not even my own parents, but in high school a few did. Actually, it was hard to hide it when half my class met me in the locker room during my senior year for post-game. You know what I mean.

Still, I went to college without my parents knowing anything about my private life. It's hard to come out as gay when you have very traditional parents and fulfill the alpha male prototype who is good at sports and attracts a lot of girls. The comments about why I didn't have a girlfriend or when I was going to bring a girl home were constant. I couldn't stand it, so as soon as I had the chance I chose a college far away, on the other side of the country, to get out of that environment and live my life freely.

It was the first summer after college, when I went back for vacation, that I told my parents everything. At that time I had a boyfriend, who was not Trevor, who I would have liked to take with me on vacation to the village and have them meet my family and friends, but it was not possible. I wish to introduce them, perhaps, at Christmas, so I plucked up the courage and told them I was gay and had a boyfriend. The conversation was very tense, and while they didn't kick me out of their house, it was a horrible summer, full of tension. My relationship with my parents worsened, so much so that I haven't seen them in person for four years.

My little sister did understand, she has always loved me very much and she has been the reason why I have regained contact with mom and dad in the last year. She has made it possible for them to understand that I am different and that is not a bad thing, that I have not failed them as a son. So it was only a matter of time before we saw each other again, and what better than a Christmas meeting to reconnect with the family.

The pain is already becoming unbearable. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH, FUCK,” I screamed. I was sweating. My whole body was already covered in sweat, my face looked like a tomato in red in reflection of the rear view mirror. So the inevitable happened, my water broke right there, in the back seat of Trevor's car, in the middle of a monumental traffic jam, just 10 kilometers from getting home. Everything that could go wrong was going wrong. I was in labor, far from a hospital, with two children in an immense hurry to come into the world and with the only company of my boyfriend Trevor, the babies' father. And no, Trevor is not a doctor, he works in marketing, which I highly doubt is a career that prepares you to deliver a baby.

As expected, Trevor stopped the car dead in the middle of the road. Dense, slow-moving traffic honked at him. Drivers honked as Trevor put the warning signal on the car and got out of the driver's position to come around back to lend a hand. He didn't care about anything else, his only concern was me and our kids. In all the pain I am feeling and the anguish of having to give birth in a car and without an epidural, I know I can't be in better hands, in the hands of the man who loves and cares for me the most.

I have told my parents about Trevor. I have told them how much we love each other and that we have been together for three years. My sister has taken it upon herself to show them pictures of us traveling around the country, going for a morning run together or cooking at home. We are like those ideal couples in the movies. All our friends tell us that we're made for each other, and even my sister, who hasn't seen us in person all this time, says she's in love with our relationship.

I met Trevor after I broke up with Ian, my first boyfriend in college. I was heartbroken after my first major heartbreak. Ian was very important to me in building up my courage and opening up to my family, even if it didn't quite work out, but he played a key role in my life. That breakup left me devastated and I became more lonely. I stopped partying, I became very lonely. That's when Trevor came into my life to change everything.

Trevor is what we can call a nerd. A very studious and hardworking guy. A person who doesn't quite fit into the world, although when you see him you don't quite understand why, because there is no more handsome and kind man on earth. His glasses, his brown hair and his green eyes made me fall in love with him, not to mention his perfect smile, my weakness. He came as Superman to save me, in fact he looks a bit like a superhero.

We met studying in the library, and then we started to meet in all kinds of places: in the cafeteria, at the college, walking around the campus… We decided to leave the coincidences aside and start meeting seriously. And from there we went from 0 to everything in the blink of an eye. I felt sparks, an awesome chemistry from the first moment, and so did he. It's like dating my best friend. The person who best understands me and complements me, a man who cares about me and helps me, who wants the best of me and loves me deeply. He has managed to make me settle down. I didn't see myself having children, sharing a house or living as a couple yet. I felt that all those things were things that older people did much later in life, but at 25 years old I am living a dream that I don't want to wake up from.

What I didn't tell my parents about was the babies. Trevor, my sister and I thought it was best to surprise them at the time. Coming out to them again as an openly gay man and in a stable relationship was already complex, so to add the babies factor to them was to complicate matters even more. We agreed that coming home with a huge pregnant belly wasn't going to be much easier either, but we trusted that the Christmas spirit would do its job.

Perhaps that spirit has done its job too well, as Santa has gone ahead to bring the Christmas present, their first two grandchildren are about to arrive in the world.

“Scott, lie down better like this and put your legs over my shoulders”, between pains I obeyed Trevor. Thank goodness he has attended childbirth preparation classes. I do as he asks with difficulty, resting my left arm on my belly to accompany the movement. I'm panting from exhaustion, and I haven't pushed a baby out yet. Trevor examines me and utters the words I was most afraid to hear, “he's here, I see his head, he's coming out. It's coming, baby”.

He put one hand on my belly to help me, and with the other he held my free hand, to convey his strength to me. “Take advantage of the contractions, Scott, very good. Push, now!” he said softly, encouraging me. The pain, immense from the contractions, came to nothing with the sensation of seeing that my body could be split in two by a huge baby that was coming out from between my legs. If that wasn't enough, for some reason, my penis became erect and a feeling of excitement ran through my body as well. I had already been warned that when we men give birth these things happen, but I never thought that the most terrible and the most pleasurable sensation could be experienced at the same time.

It took me five minutes to give birth to Ron, our first son. He looked like his father. A beautiful baby boy that Trevor wrapped in one of the t-shirts he carried in his suitcase. After I breastfed him a little he put the baby in the front seat. “I'm sorry to cut this moment short, but his baby brother is coming. My love, it's time to do it all over again. You've done great so far. A few last pushes and it will all be over,” he encouraged me.

I was already exhausted, exhausted from all the effort I had made. I wanted to stop, to end it all, to stop pushing and go back to cuddling my son. But I knew I had no choice. I couldn't delay that moment any longer. Ever since that night Trevor got me pregnant I knew this moment would come, though I didn't know I would have to experience it twice.

Nine months ago we graduated. Trevor in Marketing and Advertising and me in Literature. After four years of college we were going out into the world. Our colleges were next door to each other, so our graduating classes already knew each other, so it was no surprise when the two classes got together and decided to celebrate at the same time. For Trevor and me it was the best plan in the world, to be able to experience such a special moment for both of us hand in hand.

After the party we went back to our apartment together and we celebrated together, as we were supposed to. Trevor is right, I had been wanting to make love to him without protection for a long time, despite the risk of getting pregnant. I'll never admit it to him, but there was something about the risk of getting pregnant that really turned me on. Something inside me was screaming for it to happen. I was turned on by the thought that my boyfriend could plant his seed inside me and it would grow in the form of a baby. Without much thought we did it. It was one of the best nights of my life. Trevor was especially tender and affectionate with me, and he had never fucked me like he did that night. An electric current ran through my body, I felt more alive than ever and it was all thanks to this man I want to share the rest of my life with.

We found out I was pregnant just two weeks later. We had both just started working, he at a prestigious marketing agency and I at an independent book publisher that is in the process of expanding across the country. The news caught us by surprise. Despite everything, it was clear to both of us that we wanted to move forward with the process and have our little ones. We moved to a bigger apartment with the help of Trevor's parents and in the past few months we have been preparing everything for the arrival of these two children.

It hasn't been easy going from being a twink to a strapping guy and now looking like a beached whale. The two boys have grown a huge amount, not surprising considering both Trevor and I are both big men. The anxiety of planning to reunite with my family hasn't helped either. Food has been a way to overcome this life anxiety. The last two months I put on a lot more weight than is normal for this type of twin pregnancy. My doctor has conveyed his concern about the weight gain, although Trevor, on the other hand, has assured me that my pregnant self is the sexiest he has ever seen me in his life.

Maybe it's true that I make Trevor really horny when I'm this huge. During these nine months we haven't stopped fucking. Fortunately, my boyfriend is not one of those men who are afraid of hurting babies while their partner is pregnant, which never happens. Last night, knowing that we will spend the next few days at my parents' house, so it will be more difficult to make love there, Trevor proposed to me to repeat step by step that encounter in the early morning that led me to be pregnant nine months ago. I couldn't tell if I enjoyed more the night I got pregnant or the night that ultimately hastened my delivery. I think I'll go with the latter. Pregnancy hormones multiplied by 100 all the feelings. It was like being transported to another reality, living something totally new.

If he had asked me to have more babies at that moment, I would have said yes without hesitation. Now that I'm in the middle of labor and the pain is excruciating, I'm not so sure I was going to say yes to another pregnancy. But I don't want to fool anyone, it will be very hard for me to say no to this man. He will decide if he wants us to be a large family.

Although it looked like the second child was coming quickly, he is dragging his feet. He doesn't seem to want to move forward, so the pain is being terrible. “Trevor, I can't take it anymore, I'm not going to be able to,” I tell him sobbing from the pain and anguish. He caresses my face and encourages me to keep going, but my strength is getting weaker and weaker. I see his face and I know he is thinking of some way to speed up the delivery.

Trevor kissed me on the mouth, and then took advantage of the fact that I still had an erect penis to give me a blowjob. I rolled my eyes as my hands roamed my belly. I cum like I never had before, and everything started up again. “I read that this could help speed it up even more,” he told me washing his mouth with another of his T-shirts. “Ready to give birth a second time?” he asked, grabbing my hand again and placing the other on my belly, already smaller than before.

It took me five minutes to deliver Henry, our second child. Henry looked more like me. Trevor wrapped him in one more t-shirt, good thing this man packs a lot of clothes, and handed me both little ones to breastfeed. Already lying down and with both babies resting on my still swollen belly I breastfed them.

Trevor and I burst into tears looking at each other. We kissed. It was the happiest moment of my life. We had created life together, my boyfriend and me. Ron and Henry were the fruit of our love, two beautiful babies drinking from my breasts.

“Thank you Trevor for giving me the greatest gift of my life,” I said before kissing the father of my children again. “Anytime you want to repeat... I want a big family together with you, my love,” he said before kissing me again. “Let's wait a little while for me to recover and the little ones to grow up a bit to give them more little brothers, but we are in this together, we are going to build a huge and precious family together”, I told him. We stood hugging the four of us together, our first family moment together. The happiest moment of my life, even if it was in the back of a car, freezing cold outside and in the middle of a traffic jam. All the excitement of giving birth had made me forget about the nerves of being reunited with my family.

A new car horn brought us out of the dream we were living. Trevor sat up, sat in the driver's seat and started up again. “Do you want us to go ahead with the plan and go to your parents' house or would you rather go to the hospital to get looked at?” he asked me. “Let's go on, I'm feeling fine, and it's already Christmas Eve. I want to introduce my three boys to my parents. Besides, my mother is a doctor, if I need attention no one better than her”, I added without even looking at him, I only had eyes for little Ron and Henry.

It took about twenty more minutes to get to my parents' house. By then the two little ones were asleep and I had spruced up my appearance a bit. Trevor helped me out of the car and we both picked up one of the little ones in our arms. “Ready?”, Trevor asked me. I nodded, and grabbed his hand as the four of us headed home together. I was still walking sore and slowly, having just finished giving birth to two huge twins half an hour ago.

We rang the doorbell and my parents and my sister opened the door at the same time. My mother excitedly ran to hug us both and shower us with kisses. My father froze, but he looked thrilled to see us and greeted Trevor warmly, welcoming him to the family.

It was my sister who noticed the detail that Trevor and I were carrying with us in our arms. “When did this happen?”, she asked, breaking the dream my parents were living. When they noticed they both put their hands to their mouths in surprise and tears of emotion welled up in their eyes. “Half an hour ago, I gave birth in the car. This is Ron and Henry. Dad, Mom, congratulations, you're grandparents.” They ran to grab the little ones.

My mother was so excited, she was a whirlwind of words. She immediately started making plans to buy baby clothes, she was going to give her a crib, lots of toys and clothes. She immediately embraced her role as grandmother. My father, who has always been more serious, left little Henry to my little sister, and hugged Trevor and me at the same time. “Thank you for making me a grandfather. When you came out I thought I would never live this down. I had already made up my mind that I wouldn't have grandchildren from you”, he was crying with emotion like I had never seen him before.

“This is the best gift we could have this Christmas, my son. Santa Claus has come early to our home”, said mom and dad at the same time. My sister, who has always had great timing, capped off the moment with a joke. “With that belly of yours, little brother, you definitely look like Santa Claus”, she winked at me, and we all burst out laughing.

I took my hands to my rounded swollen belly that was still showing and that I had forgotten about a bit since I gave birth to Henry. This curve left no doubt that I had been pregnant, it even looked like I was about five months pregnant. When Trevor saw me bring my hands to my belly he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me on the cheek. He loves seeing me like this, and I'm starting to think I don't look so bad with this pregnant look. After all this is the price to pay for being as happy as I am right now. A price I'm happy to pay, and hopefully I'll have to pay it again soon.

I didn't believe in the Christmas spirit, but this year it has come into my family stronger than ever.

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repulsiveliquidation · 10 months ago

Text

Thorn in My Side || Jessie Fleming

warnings : mentions of injury and surgeries. insinuations of cheating and false accusations. angst. happy ending and smut will be in part two.

summary : you get injured, its Jessie's fault. or so you thought.

a/n : as i type this, i think i've figured out how to incorporate the smut! i'll get to writing as soon as this is posted! i'm not sure if it makes much sense, here's to hoping. enjoy.

“for your UCLA Bruins, number 21, Jessie Fleming!”

Jessie steps forward and smiles, waving to the flood of Bruins fans in the stands cheering them on. You clap with a scowl on your face, watching as the girls in the stands ogle and fawn over her. You’re admittedly jealous of her for reasons unbeknownst to you, but seeing the 5’5’ Canadian made your blood boil.

She was good on the football pitch and was smart to go along with it. Jessie had it all. Being called up for most of her time in school and playing for her national team made her well-known in the soccer world from the moment she was here in America.

She was ferocious on the grass, a fearless midfielder who put everything out there.

The game was a close one, tied at the half 2-2. There were lots of contact, tackles, and battles that made it clear to anyone watching that there was tension between you and Jessie. One always found the other; if one had the ball, the other wanted it.

You had possession, running towards goal. There was a flash of blue and you were on the ground yelling in pain, hands clutching at your ankle. There was a loud pop and your ankle began to swell. The trainers came over and were hauling you off on a stretcher almost immediately, the ref showing Jessie a yellow for the unsafe tackle. It wasn’t a red card because really you fell a little weird and her studs were nowhere near your ankle.

She looked genuinely sorry, taking your hand in hers as you were stretchered off. You were in too much pain to care, shoving her hand out of yours and your teammates pulling her away from you.

A broken ankle was what they said. It was a clean break but you needed surgery and that meant no more soccer for the season.

Just great.

They put you in a wheelchair before you head to the hospital, your parents are already at the stadium to take you. You hear the final whistle blow and your teammate rolls you in, the girls all feeling sad when you tell them the news. There’s a little Bruins blue in the sea of Trojans in front of you and there’s a Canadian standing there digging her cleat into the grass, wanting to apologize.

Megan and Kasey stand beside you just in case things get a little heated. Jessie steps forward and looks more sorry for you when she sees the bandages and you in a wheelchair.

“Is it broken?” she asks genuinely, looking at your leg and then at you.

“No thanks to you,” you snide, rolling your eyes at her. “What do you want now, Fleming?”

“I wanted to apologize, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she says sincerely but you’re too bitter to hear her take ownership of her actions.

“You knew what you were doing, Fleming. You’ve always been out to get me our entire college career and now in our final year you finally get what you want!”

You don’t know the tears were starting until they did, pouring down your face hot and fast. She looked a little mortified and pale, backing away and saying she was sorry over and over before a sea of Bruins pulled her away to celebrate their win.

The whole car ride to the hospital you spent weeping, thinking about how you’re not going to be able to play your senior year out like you had hoped. But more so of the look of pure horror on Jessie’s face when you accused her of hating you so much that she would purposely hurt you.

She looked on the verge of tears. Like hurting you scared her.

You scared her.

“The break is clean, but rehab will take a while if you’re not careful,” said Dr. Jeff, the attending podiatrist.

“How long?”

“You’re looking at 14 to 16 weeks, kiddo. Two years if you’re stubborn like most of my patients are.”

“16 weeks sounds great.”

“Smart kid you got here,” the doctor tells your parents with a smile, “I’ll schedule you in for surgery today, you should be out of here by the end of the week.”

The doctor leaves and your mother begins to fuss, propping up pillows and getting your nurse to bring you more jello. Your father, on the other hand, has a look of all-knowing on his face.

“I’m sorry Dad,” you begin, head hanging low the moment your mother leaves the room.

“Don’t be sorry, peanut. These things happen. Better now than when you’re on a professional team, yeah?”

“She didn’t really make me break my ankle did she?” you ask, looking up at your dad who was rubbing your back as the tears filled your eyes again.

“It was the perfect tackle, kiddo. You just fell a little funny is all.”

“She looked so horrified when I said she did it on purpose,” you sob, leaning into your father’s stomach. He held you tight and cradled your head, your heart hurting more than your broken ankle, the face Jessie made when the words left your mouth etched behind your eyelids.

There are plenty of flowers in your room the moment you wake from surgery. Lots of cards and get well soon balloons hung from the ceiling. You were still groggy when your teammates visited, Megan was sure to bring lots of Sharpies to sign your cast with, all the girls leaving a nice note for you on it.

There was an hour left for visitations and your parents just left to wash up at home. You were mindlessly scrolling through the terrible TV channel selections while finishing your 5th Jello cup when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” you yell, thinking it was a nurse coming to check your vitals again. What you didn’t expect was to see a brunette Canadian poking her head through the door.

“Hi,” she said sheepishly, standing by the door unsure if you really would want her to come in.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as kindly as possible, eyes flickering towards the clock above the door, “it’s late, why aren’t you back at school?”

“Spring Break, my parents are down from Canada so I asked to see you before we drove back,” she says quietly, stepping in a little more. “Can I come in?”

You nod, unsure if your mouth would be polite enough. Anger still seethed in your bones but the look of sheer horror on her face was still fresh in your mind.

“How bad was it?” she begins, still standing near the now-closed door.

“Clean break, should take 16 weeks if I’m careful.”

“That’s good. The doctors here are great.”

“They are quite convincing, they know how to get a patient to stay on their medical plan.”

“Did you get Dr. Jeff?”

“He accused me of being stubborn.”

Jessie laughs and you smile, a light blush creeping up your cheeks. It’s an adorable sound and her face of laughter replaces the one of fear you had burned into your mind.

“I’m really sorry for all this,” she begins but you cut her off.

“It wasn’t your fault, my dad said it was a clean tackle. I just fell funny.”

You looked up at her and saw the relief on her face and she stepped forward, taking your hand in hers. You took a deep breath and reciprocated her ownership of her mistakes, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders the moment you looked her in the eyes.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said the other day Jessie, that was not fair to you.”

“Heat of the moment love, don’t worry about it.”

Your heart clenches hard when the pet name slips out of her lips and you smile, hoping she didn’t see your eyes dilate and feel your skin warm up. She nods and bids goodbye just as her phone rings which tells you her parents are waiting outside.

You sit there giddy and a little starstruck as she disappears out of view. Your hand is warm from her touch and you can still feel her hand holding yours. You thump your head back and curse loudly, before grabbing your leg in pain temporarily forgetting that you were actually hurt.

You giggle and bite your lip, shaking your head when your phone dings.

Maybe: Jessie Fleming.

“You look cute when you’re flustered.”

You clap a hand to your mouth and smile, face heating up with a dark blush.

“You did this, you better fix it.”

“I think we can make that happen, love.”

You don’t think you slept much that night, texting till the sun came up. Your parents came in to check on you in the morning and found you with your phone still on call with Jessie but you two were asleep. You woke up to your doctors talking to your parents and discussing your rehab plan. There was another text from Jessie, making your heart skip a beat.

“You’re also very cute when you’re sleeping.”

Over the next few weeks, you two talked constantly. Jessie kept you company when you were bored at rehab and you kept her company while she was training on her own. You called her every night before bed, giggling and laughing well into the night most nights.

“How is rehab coming along?” Jessie asked as you were lying back on the examination table to relax your ankle. She was in her bed, looking as stunning as you had been denying yourself the chance to admit.

“Good, looks like I can put pressure on it by next week if Tiff lets me,” you say, side-eyeing your trainer Tiffany who was doing cupping on another teammate’s back.

“Girl, I will hold your papers hostage, don’t test me,” Tiffany jokes, waving the lit fire stick at you.

“Yes ma’am I’ll be super-duper extra careful!” you answer with a salute, making Jessie laugh so loud it rings through the room. Most of your teammates know the thing you’ve got going with her and think it’s cute.

All but one.

Megan.

She stood at the door listening to you ramble on about Jessie this and Jessie that, her blood boiling at the thought of you being buddy-buddy with the girl she believed to be the one who hurt you.

Megan was a freshman who was from Florida. She was a great pick from her high school team, and the best defender on the East Coast. She made the team here at USC and to say the least, she fit right in.

There was homogeny that wasn’t there before she joined and the linkup between you and her helped you take her under your wing. She looked up to you and was so ecstatic to play with you after watching you on TV.

She felt that Jessie took away her only chance to play with you before you graduated.

Jessie needed to pay.

“Hey, weird question,” Jessie starts, one night while you two were tucked in bed and on the phone with each other.

“Yeah?” you ask, turning over onto your side. Jessie looked a little concerned but you shrugged it off, the girl was known to constantly look worried.

“Someone sent me this photo but it’s from an unknown number, I thought it was weird.”

Sent.

You looked at it in shock.

It was you. Kissing a girl on the basketball team.

“Jess this isn’t me.”

“I’m not blind you know, that’s you.”

“Jessie, I swear this was doctored! I’ve never talked to this girl, let alone fucking kissed her!”

“Then why did the fucking photo come with a text that said, “She’s not who you think she is,”?”

“I don’t know! No one else but the girls know about you and me! I promise Jessie please!”

“I need some time to think. Leave me alone.”

She hangs up.

The tears fill your eyes as you stare at this photo. You don’t even think you’ve crossed paths with this girl, having not been the biggest fan of basketball. But your face was clearly there and hers was too. Her lips were on yours and you looked like you were enjoying yourself.

You think and you think hard. You didn’t go to any parties lately with your leg and you haven’t been to any games of theirs. You stared at the photo for hours, wracking your brain for some kind of explanation.

An explanation as to why Jessie looked so hurt at the thought of you with someone else.

#jessie fleming #woso x reader #woso soccer #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #portland thorns #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso #woso angst

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sugrhigh · 5 months ago

Text

BOY NEXT DOOR 9 - ( c.s )

part eight

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- angst, swearing, i think that’s it

a/n: i’m back my little goblins let’s get it!!!! part ten of this series will be the final part, and then i plan on writing an ‘epilogue’ type chapter to wrap it all up. i’m hoping to have them up as quickly as possible, but ive been absolutely slammed so im sorry if it takes me a minute. i love u always and i’ve missed being on here so i hope you enjoy <3

(if you asked to be tagged in the last part and weren’t tagged it’s bcs it wouldn’t let me!! i’m so sorry i tried my hardest)

to be let down, you have to expect something from someone. it’s a mistake you’ve made far too frequently in your years on earth, especially in college, but this time around the grief is debilitating.

you spend the rest of your weekend locked inside your room, attempting to sleep away the heartbreak. somehow dreaming almost makes it worse; for a second you’re able to forget about being completely humiliated, until you wake up in reality once more.

it doesn’t help that chris has been absolutely blowing up your phone since the moment you left. every call and text goes unanswered. it’s impossible to read them, so most of the time you don’t.

hell, you can’t even open your curtains because you’re too scared that he’ll be looking back at you when you do. so you block out the sunlight, ensuring that your room matches your dreary feelings.

you figure he’ll give up on trying to talk to you eventually. you’re not different. he’s not different. and once chris regains that pride of his, he’ll go right back to fucking some other girl he won’t care about half as much.

thoughts like those make you cry even harder, as much as you hate it. but you know the disinterest will wash over him sooner or later, and you resent that inevitable day.

cassidy and ramona check on you pretty much every other hour. it makes you feel even worse that they’re so concerned, but neither of them have ever seen you like this. at least not since freshman year, when you dated an upperclassman for a couple months just for him to dump you over text.

even that heartache was relatively short-lived. but this pain follows you into the week, trailing behind you like a shadow you can’t get rid of. it sits beside you in class, curls up next to you in bed, weighs your shoulders down whenever you walk.

it feels like you’re struggling to stay afloat, to even act like a real human anymore. chris consumes your brain, and so do the ‘what if’s’ of your situation. it makes the week drag on, even though you try to spend most of it asleep.

to make matters worse, his multiple notifications continue with a routine consistency, almost like clockwork. you figured he’d already be over it, but he clearly doesn’t want to make himself easy to forget.

you have to admit that you’re glad his persistence lasted at least this long, even if it’s for selfish reasons. you’re disgusted that the attention satisfies you, but it’s not an unwelcome change considering all you’ve been feeling lately is queasy.

still, you don’t read them, or pick up when he calls. you can’t hear his voice, because you know it’ll absolutely break you.

and then finally, on friday, you see him in the flesh. you’re walking home from your bus stop after the only lecture you managed to get to that day, and there he is, getting out of his car.

your throat seizes up; there’s no way to avoid this. it’s easy to ice someone out over text, but it’s a hell of a lot harder when he’s your neighbor.

before you can snap your head away he’s turning to look in your direction, eyes equally as wide as yours once the recognition washes over him. he looks like shit, and yet he’s still so goddamn beautiful it makes you physically sick.

for a brief moment, everything stops. you just stare at each other.

chris takes in you in, the way you look noticeably drained. he feels that familiar nauseous pang in his stomach flare up, knowing that he stole the spark from your eyes.

the worst part is that you’ll never look at him with that fire again. there’s nothing he can do to bring it back now, no way to reverse the past.

then—before he can decide what to do in the present—you break the spell, cutting through your other neighbor’s lawn to get to your front porch. everything in him wants to run after you, so much so that he has to physically restrain himself.

you hear him calling after you, and something about him shouting your name stirs the tears awake once more. but you make it through the door before they fall, because you can’t show any more vulnerability than you already have.

getting inside doesn’t mean that you make it up the stairs, though. the physical and emotional exhaustion catches up to you, and you collapse around halfway through your blurry climb to your room.

your elbows dig into your kneecaps, hands holding your head while you sob. it seems impossible to catch your breath, or calm down in the slightest, and your cries only grow louder.

normally you’d be careful about the noise, but there’s no one to hide from right now. nobody is home. it’s just you and your thoughts, which, as always, are full of him.

you may be able to push him out of your life, but you have a feeling he’ll be lingering in the corners of your mind forever.

the post-game locker room mood is completely miserable tonight. after that last minute loss and the thirty minute bitch-session they just endured from their coach, it honestly should be.

chris barely even has his skates off before his teammates are all over him, which he expected but still dreaded.

his head’s not in it, and everybody knows.

“what the fuck is wrong with you, man? it’s like you’re not even awake out there.” one of the team’s leading defensemen, luke, yanks him up by his jersey roughly.

for a second he pauses, setting his jaw and puffing his chest out slightly. the accusation, though it’s not completely untrue, pisses him off.

so much so that chris retaliates by shoving him back to his rightful place a foot away. “get the hell off of me, man.”

luke looks like he’s ready to jump into action again, but connor steps in between before anything else can happen. he’s also very visibly angry, a side that doesn’t come out often.

and just because he stopped a physical fight from breaking out doesn’t mean he’s going to stay silent. “he’s right. you’re playing like shit, and we‘re way too far into the season to be blowing it now, especially with selection show right around the corner.”

chris can feel his blood is boiling at this point, knowing that even his roommate is going to support this kind of disrespect towards his own captain. the rest of the team is watching silently, but he can’t find it anywhere in himself to care.

the words have already bubbled up, and he won’t hold them back anymore.

“oh come on, it’s not like anyone else was stepping up! dylan turned the puck over every other play, ben was offside during that odd man rush, and don’t even get me started on you and the high sticking penalty that just lost us that fucking game.” he shoves his pointer finger against connor’s chest for emphasis, trying to make sure his criticism stings as much as possible.

but his friend is quick to swat his hand away, shaking his head once sharply.

“no, you don’t get to turn it on everyone else. you lost it for us during that sorry excuse of a penalty kill. you let that little UMass shit go right by you, which is why he had a wide open shot to score the game winner. you’ve been making dumb mistakes like that for two weeks now, and we all know why.”

that implication is enough to send chris over the edge, because nobody has the right to mention what happened between you and him. knowing about the situation doesn’t mean they should get to speak on it.

he can feel his fingernails digging into his palms, both hands balled into tight fists at his side. the anger coursing through his body makes him shake ever so slightly, almost like he’s humming.

“keep going and i’ll bust your fucking face in.” chris says, voice eerily calm despite the fact that his body is screaming.

but connor doesn’t back down; he stands tall with an unwavering gaze that’s more serious than ever before. “you gotta grow a pair and start being our captain again. you fucked up, and losing someone you’re actually into because of that sucks. most of us have been there. but trying to throw everyone under the bus is bullshit when you’re the one that needs to get it together.”

nothing about his words are intentionally meant to hurt, and chris knows that, but for some reason they do. probably because he doesn’t want to hear the truth, or start coming to terms with the fact that he actually did lose you.

he really doesn’t ever want to accept it.

but his ego won’t let him say that. instead, chris shifts his gaze to observe the rest of the room, at all of his teammates, before focusing on connor once again.

“if you don’t think that i’m your captain anymore then find a new one.” he spits.

the room somehow gets even more quiet; everyone is stunned by the out-of-character reaction. for the most part, chris really is a good leader. they all voted for him to represent the team when it came time, and the group dynamic has been great since then.

but he doesn’t feel like that guy now. he’s not sure who he is anymore. so he throws the rest of his equipment into his bag and yanks it over his shoulder.

“really, chris?” it’s ben this time, who’s clearly dumbfounded by the theatrics.

he doesn’t respond, and he tries not to hesitate too much as he makes his way out of the locker room. everyone lets him pass, which makes it even harder to leave.

it feels so wrong, but his feet keep pushing him forward regardless.

when chris finally makes it home twenty minutes later, the frustration has only festered. he doesn’t like anything he’s doing, and yet it’s spiraling out of his control. by the time he gets to his room, tears of aggravation have made their way down his face.

he wipes them away harshly as he stares out his window at your room, which is still closed off by your curtains. it’s like his heart seizes up just from being this close to you, knowing that you’re in there yet he can’t reach you.

and maybe that’s the problem. chris loves hockey, but at the end of the day he clearly loves you more. and with things the way that they are, his heart is fully wrapped up in you, not the game.

it’s terrifying, and it’s painful. he never thought that there’d be anyone to test his bachelor lifestyle until you came around, and he can’t just go back to normal because he doesn’t know how.

he’s been permanently changed, and it feels like a huge part of his new life is suddenly missing.

you saw the deepest parts of him, parts that he didn’t even know existed, and he saw the same side of you. you challenged him in ways he’d never experienced, and he loved that he always felt like he was evolving when you were together.

now he just feels stagnant, unsure of himself.

the only thing he’s sure of is that he needs you, whether that makes him inconsiderate or not. he can’t keep sleepwalking through life, but he’s not sure what else there is to do.

simply put, he misses you like hell. so he lays back in bed and closes his eyes, trying to remember what it felt like to have you right beside him.

@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18 @realqueenofpepsi @snowysosturn @secretfangirly @scarlettbitches @satvisfavetoodles

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #hockey!chris #hockey au #sturniolo fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #christopher sturniolo fanfic

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kunaigirl · 5 months ago

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Long post ahead, but I really want to talk about this...I think? Oh lord here we go, lol. Anyways, confession time!

I struggled with illiteracy and learning to read for a chunk of my life. I've mentioned it (in passing) in this post that I made about my experiences with having epilepsy, but I decided to make an whole post just for this for a change.

Somewhere around when I was in the second grade, I lost my ability to read and write due to a bad seizure I had. (That combined with the medications I was given too.) A lot of my memories are blank from that era, except for a very few instances I remember clearly. What I do remember though, has nothing to do with the seizure or even what lead up to it, all of that's still gone to this day.

I had lost my ability to read, and also was diagnosed with dyslexia during the quest to re-learn from scratch. (On top of already being diagnosed with ADHD when I was about 6.) I remember very vividly how HORRIBLE everything felt. I couldn't remember the names of things, and I had to re-learn, from preschool up, both reading and writing from scratch.

Somewhat luckily, I didn't lose anything else besides those chunks of memories and my ability to read, and I still remembered who I was, what cartoons I liked, my favorite music, etc. But suddenly, I couldn't read the CD titles anymore. I couldn't read the VHS covers. It was gone, ripped away from me very suddenly, and I knew it was missing. I knew that I already learned how to read and write, but it was forced out of me by a malfunctioning brain. I was home schooled because of it from grades 3rd-5th. (2003-2005)

In the third grade, I had made just enough progress to get books for 5 year olds. Everyone around me acted so proud, but all I could do was cry. I was humiliated. I felt so incredibly stupid, as being illiterate leaves you with no choice but to feel stupid. I threw those baby books around my room and sat on the floor crying. It wasn't fair, I didn't do anything wrong, it was my damn seizures. I had no control.

When I went back to public school for 6th grade, I got called stupid, the r-slur, illiterate, slow, basically every name in the book. Both kids and adults, all throughout those years while I continued to re-learn in real time. In middle school, my reading level was still low for my age, and I had to be in a special program with extra assistance and teacher accommodations. As soon as word got out, the kids were RELENTLESS. It was 06-07, nobody cared about bullying/etc, especially for a public middle school. The bullying never stopped.

I kept working and studying, slowly making progress. Years of struggling, learning to cope, inventing my own short-cuts to help read a little easier, using rulers and paper edges to help guide my eyes, everything. I was still in "special" classes with accommodations all through high school too. My senior year of high school, I graduated on the honor role list. Did that make me happy? It felt nice for sure, but better? Not by much. I knew how hard I still struggled, and still felt very embarrassed by it all. I'll never forget.

As a kid, the pain I felt was so intense. Physically from the seizure, and in every other way with having to re-learn how to spell t-r-e-e. Starting over with pre-K toddler books at 7. Kindergarten level at age 8, and a first grade level as a 9 year old. The feeling of having my memories ripped away just enough to leave me unable to recognize the symbols that decorated everything from posters to TV to book covers. Being told by a room full of doctors and neurologists what had happened, and being quizzed and tested to see what I still had left.

I have never forgotten those long nights. Even though I was a child, the shame and guilt and fear I felt were VERY real and very tense. And the jokes/remarks from both kids AND adults, the notebooks filled with raw squiggly anger, the uphill climb to regain what was taken from me. I will NEVER forget it. Even in college, I struggled with those heavy textbooks and their tiny fonts. I did well enough, but no one else struggled the way I did with them. I did my work and wrote my essays, but it would take full entire days. It still does.

At times, as an adult, I still get stuck on words. I can obviously read and write again, as you can see with this exact post, but it's not over. I struggle with certain fonts, and some books are just to difficult. I still work at it and still try as hard as I can even to this very goddamn day. It never truly ended, all these years later, 20 years later, I still sometimes fight to understand. I feel like an angry and humiliated kid again in those moments, but I'm not that kid or teen anymore. I lived thought it somehow.

I had a dream back when I was 17, where I'm standing in from of my 9 year old self and that pile of baby books. She's crying and looking at me, desperately. I walk over and hug her, proudly telling her "We read The Great Gatsby in high school, and we understand it."

To anyone who has struggled with illiteracy at non-toddler-points in their lives, I see you. To anyone who's struggled with reading comprehension, I see you. To anyone who struggled with writing, I see you. We don't talk about it enough, and I want to change that. I don't want to hide that side of my life experience anymore. Fuck shame, we climbed out of it.

And to this day, a copy of "The Great Gatsby" is still on my shelf. Because I read it in high school, and 9 year old me would've thought that was the coolest achievement ever.

#my posts #long posts #story time #reblogs are ok but please be civil #illiteracy #epilepsy #just epilepsy things #actually epileptic #reading

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 2 years ago

Note

congrats on 2222!! soulmate au with frankie would be so cute. I love frankie sm he’s just the cutest 😍

Hi lovely! Thank you for this prompt. I was a bit apprehensive because I've read one (1) soulmate AU in my entire life and wasn't sure if I could do it justice. But obviously, Frankie takes this by the ears and I just had the best time writing it. This is also a college AU because apparently I love AUs set with Pedro boys in college 🤷🏻‍♀️

This drabble is actually an AU of an upcoming fic I have in the works, called Summer House (with a lot less angst and pain). I hope you like it sweet anon!

Frankie Morales x soulmates AU

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover micro drabble request | 1346 words (sorry) | warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, college AU, inexperienced reader, drinking games, friends to soulmates

Sometimes, you wonder what colour Frankie’s eyes are.

It’s not something you wonder about often, not when everyone has grey eyes - but not really. One day, when you kiss your soulmate for the first time, you will see their eye colour, and they will see yours.

So you definitely don’t have any business wondering anything of the kind about Frankie at all, seeing that you two do not get along. Never have, probably never will, despite having been in the same close knit group since you were kids. Benny has long played the second to your principal in your duels with Frankie, while Santi is his, with Will keeping the peace whenever you get into a particularly thorny disagreement.

But that’s the funny thing about friendship. Despite your bickering, you got his back, and you know he has yours.

You’ve heard about it once or twice through the grapevine in high school, but finding one’s soulmate seems to be a dime a dozen in college, with happy news dropping left, right and centre throughout the academic year.

While you’re not in a hurry to find your fated other half, you start thinking that you should at least get started with the kissing part. You’re way behind your friends and peers on that front, somehow missing out on the formative experience despite being a regular fixture at house parties at high school, then sorority parties in your freshman year in college.

You really should blame the boys. No one wants to risk messing with a girl who has three hulking seniors and one equally hulking sophomore at her beck and call, not when there are far easier options around.

But you know it’s not just that, and you’ll only admit it when you're drunkenly tucking yourself into bed, alone yet again after another party. It feels like you’re the only person your age who’s still (stupidly) holding onto the hope that your first kiss can be something, not just a sloppy makeout session with too much tongue and too little meaning.

And so you find yourself, still never been kissed, when summer rolls around at the end of your first year at college. Your gang of five is about to shrink to just you and Benny, with the rest of the boys enlisting after they graduate, and the impending farewell upsets you more than you care to show.

The five of you spend the first week together at the Millers’ summer house after school lets out, as has been tradition since you were kids - with your parents when you were younger, but it’s been just kids for the last few years.

Well, just the kids plus one, since Frankie always brings a girlfriend. Unfailingly, it's someone beautiful with perfect hair who has a wandering eye for the other boys, and hates your guts for being the only girl in the group.

On the last night, the guys invite a select crowd over for one final hurrah before they go home and get ready to ship out to basic training the following week. Music is booming, cheap beer is flowing, and you’re all in the garden, the sticky Floridian heat clinging to you like a second skin.

Ironically, it’s Frankie’s girlfriend who wants to play spin the bottle. He sits opposite you, his Standard Oil cap pulled over his eyes but failing to hide his annoyance at being forced to participate. You roll your eyes at him across the circle, and he gives you a middle finger back.

Will, the self-appointed gamesmaster, spins the bottle set on a pizza box atop the lawn.

It spins, and spins, and spins - until it doesn’t.

You look on in sheer horror when the bottle stutters to a stop squarely before you, the other end pointing at Frankie, who turns green with nausea.

‘FUCK NO!’

You attempt to run, only to be tackled to the ground by Santi, who practically hauls you by the waist back to the circle as you kick and scream.

Frankie, on the other hand, has to be restrained by both Miller brothers.

‘I have a girlfriend!’ he shouts, digging the heels of his beat-up sneakers into the grass.

She doesn’t seem to mind though, clapping gleefully along with everyone else, chanting, ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’

Shoved toe to toe in the middle of the circle under watchful eyes, you exchange vicious glares. Frankie’s broad shoulders are hunched over defensively, arms crossed. It’s strange, you’ve known him forever, but this is probably physically the closest you’ve ever been to each other without being locked in a fist fight.

Warmth bounces off his tightly wound up frame as he towers over you, and by some folly, you feel an inexplicable pull.

You fight the staggering want to bury your nose in that grey tshirt (the one he wears Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and restocks at Old Navy when it wears too thin), to swipe that hat off his head to brush the curls from his face, to look into his eyes - and see what colour they are.

In the end, Frankie breaks first - you’re not sure if it’s the jeering and goading from the crowd or your stubborn standoff that makes him snap. Grabbing you by the elbow, he hauls you firmly into his chest before you can react.

You should be embarrassed, mortified that this is how you’re going to end up losing your first kiss. And yet, losing doesn't seem like the right word.

There’s a deep-seated calmness inside you, knowing that it’s going to be Frankie. The boy you’ve known since you were three, the teenager who used to make you cry with stupid juvenile pranks, and the man now who wouldn’t hesitate to throw a punch if anyone even looks at you the wrong way.

As soon as the tip of his proud nose brushes yours, your eyes slide shut of their own accord - and he kisses you.

God, his lips are so soft. Your breath catches in your throat, and your knees wobble so dangerously that your fingers twist into the front of his tshirt, holding on for dear life.

Can he tell that you don’t know how to kiss, at all? Does he think you’re terrible? The fact that this feels so fucking perfect despite having no idea what you’re doing sets you on edge, a magnifying glass trained on your inexperience in a way that makes you stiffen with nerves and awkwardness.

He must be appalled at how bad you are, especially after the litany of gorgeous, more experienced girls he’s been with over the years. You can’t believe you’re subjecting him to this, how would he ever look you in the eye afterwards -

But then, something shifts when his hands find your waist, palms easily spanning the small of your back as he pulls back for air, but only just, still so close that you can feel the tickle of his beard on your chin. There’s an unmistakable hitch in his breath, a tremour as he exhales, which in turns makes you tremble and switches off the unwelcome commentary in your head.

It’s as if he wants you.

Before you can think too hard, Frankie leans in and kisses you again, harder this time, the tip of his tongue tracing the seam of your mouth, and heat chases down your spine like a meteor. He sucks on your bottom lip when it falls open in a gasp, dipping between your lips with a clever swipe of his tongue against yours that makes you shudder and whimper, which he swallows with a possessive growl.

Your lungs are burning when he draws back, his nose still touching yours.

Then he calls your name.

You blink as your eyes open -

Frankie’s staring at you, lips parted, his gaze reverential. Like he’s never seen you before. Reaching up, he takes your face in his hands, calloused palms on your cheeks, thumbs swiping away the tears that won’t stop. You break into a watery grin, which he mirrors, a warm chuckle rumbling in his chest, holding you close as everything falls into place -

Frankie’s eyes are brown.

Note: In case it's not clear, in this fic, everyone’s eyes appear grey. You can only see your soulmate's eye colour after you kiss them for the first time.

#fuckyeah2222sleepover #frankie morales fanfiction #francisco morales fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales soulmates au #frankie morales college au #frankie morales imagine

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hugshughes · 1 year ago

Text

Patience is a Virtue C. Loveland

Colston Loveland x fem!Minter!reader

synopsis - Colston gets the trophy, and finally gets the girl.

wc - 3.8k

contains - UNEDITED! this is based off of this request! READER IS COACH MINTER(michigan defensive coordinator)'S DAUGHTER!!!!!!! kissing, hugging, fluff, cursing, stress over the game. guys if u don't like my cute outfit i picked then #1 ur a hater and #2 it's not a big deal! think of something else🤞🤞🤞 cause my Adidas navy handballs with gold accents ARE STAYING. there IS a picture of the outfit im describing but im obvi not gonna stick it in the middle of the fic so if anyone wants that i guess request or message me lols?

an - GUYS PLEASE LET THIS POST LETS PRAY TOGETHER. THIS WAS CUTE. i've been getting the BEST requests lately. i'm on my Michigan FOOTBALL grind. ive spent a long while introducing the jesse minter daughter reader.... she might have to stick around. i want to write for Blake Corum but don't know what to do because literally all i have written for the past week is like "girlfriend or friend of player reader comes to watch their playoff game, reader and love interest kiss after love interest wins game" so... DONT GET ME WRONG I LOVEEEE WRITING THAT SHIT. but it feels so repetitive. BUT THIS? I LOVED THIS. daughter of the coach is so scandalous and i love it. minter is only 40 so like we're just saying he had his daughter (reader) pretty young, like 21. hope u enjoyyyyyyyy ;)!

You woke up with a start. Your body jolted as you brain registered a shout somewhere in the room. You sucked in a breath, opening your eyes, only to close them again. You squinted, trying to orient yourself. You were in a hotel room, your brothers were the ones shouting.

You groaned at the realization, then let out a shout when you felt three small bodies land on top of you.

"Holy shit, get off of me!"

They immediately scrambled, most likely going to tell your mom you cursed in their presence. You loved your 3 baby siblings, but they were pains in your ass sometimes.

You heard a faint "she said shit mommy!" in the conjoining hotel room, and rolled your eyes. You sat in bed, stretching, grabbing your phone before grabbing your bag and locking yourself in the bathroom before your mom could scold you so your siblings shut up about it.

Today was the college football playoff championship, and it was safe to say your family members above the age of 8 were stressed. It was 8:11, and you had to be out the door by 9:50. You showered, drying your hair after and then starting to pick your outfit. You brought a lot of different gear, you had not clue what you wanted to wear to the game. You had so much Michigan gear, and even more maize and navy colored clothing, courtesy to your father.

After almost 30 minutes, you decided on a cute denim skirt, a maize long sleeve, and your navy Adidaas Handballs. You perfected your hair and makeup, successfully erasing any signs that you'd only been awake for about an hour.

You came out of the bathroom all put together, your bag and pajamas in hand. Your siblings were sitting on your bed, watching something on the TV. Since you guys had 6 people in your family, you'd gotten two hotel rooms with the connecting door in the middle. You slept in one room with your little sister on the other bed, and your parents and brothers slept in the other room. You walked through the connecting door, checking the time. 9:17.

Your mom was getting ready in the bathroom when you walked into it. You sat on the closed lid toilet and started talking to her about the plans for today.

"You really gotta stop cursing in front of the littles!"

Your mother scolded you, a grin wide on her face. She was joking, of course. You and your parents had always been close, you'd been their baby for the longest. You'd been with them since they were two just married 20 year olds in college. Not that you remembered it, but you were there for all of your dad's junior and senior year games when he played at MSJ. You'd been there through all the coaching jobs. From Cincinnati, to Georgia State, to the Baltimore Ravens, you'd been there through all of it.

You sat with your mom until it was time to go. Your dad corralled everyone together, taking a photo before you all headed to the elevator. When an elevator came, it opened up and there was barely any room unless your parents held two of your siblings, so you told them to go ahead and that you would wait for the next one.

You only waited about a minute before the doors slid open again, revealing none other than Colston Loveland. His eyes lit up, a grin shining on his beautiful face. You'd always had a weird little thing with Colston. No words were ever said about it, but there had always been a vibe between you.

Being the daughter of the defensive coordinator definitely drove a lot of the guys, even ones you had classes and other school related things with, far far away. The boys knew how protective their coach was of his family, and didn't want any bad blood on the team. Something about you just attracted Colston so heavily. He knew he shouldn't even think about it, but he never could help himself.

"Hey coach."

You rolled your eyes at him playfully as you stepped into the elevator. He always called you coach, he had to remind you he was one of your dad's players. You would've loved to forget that for two seconds.

"Hi Cole."

He could've died. You'd called him Cole, instead of Colston. It was the smallest, most insignificant little thing, but it made him melt.

"Where's your family at?"

You tilted your head towards him, he wanted to talk, okay. You smiled at him, he loved it.

"The other elevator was too full, some of the guys were on the way down too."

He nodded, the smirk never leaving his face. You thought about kissing it off of him, then realized you had just thought of kissing his smirk off of him. Shit. You were in deep with this kid, and there was little to no chance anything would ever happen.

The elevator reached the lobby, and Colston gestured for you to step out first. You exited the elevator, the boy hot on your tail. You were immediately greeted by a hallway packed full of Michigan players, coaches, families, and more.

You have Colston one last glance and smile before finding your mom, taking your baby brother out of her arms and into yours, playing with him. Colston's eyes followed you, he admired you as you smiled and laughed with your brother. You were perfect. He was gonna have to find a way to get around the fact that you were his coach's daughter.

You held your brother with one arm and your sisters hand with the other as you smiled at the cameras, walking through to the buses. Your family followed behind the rest of the coaches and families, the team trailing behind you.

The ride to NRG took longer than you assumed it would, almost an hour because of the traffic, and it didn't help that everyone could tell that the buses were transporting one of the CFP Championship teams in them.

Everyone went into the stadium together, through some backstage type area. You walked with the team until you had to go separate ways. You hugged your dad, squeezing him tight. You would see him again before the game, so you saved your 'Good luck, I love you Dad.' sentiment for then.

You'd always had a special connection with your dad, you were closer to him than almost anyone else. You were his baby, his first baby. Still, you were his baby in his eyes. Your dad would do anything for you, and he was quite protective. Though he was protective, all he wanted was for you to be happy, and if it meant dating one of his guys, he would have no problem with it.

Your family sat bored in the box of the stadium, looking down on the field as Washington practiced. There was over 6 more hours till the game started, and there was practically nothing to do.

You took a nap on the carpeted floor of the box with your siblings for a couple hours, your mother snapping photos that although you were embarrassed of, were undeniably cute. Once you guys had woken up, there was about 2 hours till game time. You voted with your family on whether you guys wanted to stay in the box, or sit way close to the field. You all wanted to be closer to the field, you wanted to see the action head on.

Your family departed the box, along with a few others to see the team one more time before the game. You got down onto the field in about 20 minutes, and stood with your dad for awhile. When you were being told it was time to go, you quickly hugged your dad.

"Good luck, I love you!"

He thanked you, saying the three words back as you guys waved at him, going to leave. Your eyes caught on a certain brunette as he ran off the field, his eyes finding you quickly. He smiled at you, ugh, that smile.

"Good luck, Cole!"

You smiled at him, right before you turned to go up the tunnel. More and more fans started to pour in as you got settled into your bleacher seats. You were three rows from the bottom with a perfect view of the field. You settled in as the national anthem ended and the game began.

As the game progressed, you were so happy to say that Michigan was winning, the entire time. You'd caught Colston's eyes multiple times during the game, letting it linger for a few seconds before giving him a stern look and gesturing towards the field. He'd mouth back, 'okay, coach.' and turn back around. Your mother caught the interaction once, her heart warming seeing her baby with a crush.

You stood up, your brother in your arms as you jumped up and down, shouting, Michigan had finally won! You cheered and danced around with your little siblings as you celebrated. You were all so insanely proud of your dad. Soon though, you were being escorted to the field, eager to see your father and congratulate him.

Blood was pumping and hearts were racing as you exited the tunnel, smiles burned onto your faces as you went to look for your dad. You held your sister's hand as you two ran around, trying to find him. Your mom shouted, and you turned to look at her. She pointed to your left, and there stood your dad, hugging one of his players. Your sister went back to your mom, to walk over to your dad with her as you all but sprinted over to your dad, weaving in between sweaty boys and families.

Your dad saw you incoming and held his arms out accepting your forceful hug. You both laughed, your dad squeezing you tightly. Your best friend had finally done it.

"Literally told you you would do it."

He laughed again, agreeing as he laid a kiss to your temple, pulling back with one arm to accept your other siblings into the hug, who'd finally made their way over. After a minute, you took your siblings from your dad so your mom could hug him, and kiss him, much to your brothers' disgust.

After talking with your dad for a little, you spotted a familiar 6'5 frame standing by himself as his teammates walked away from him. You sauntered over, shouting his name when you were in earshot. The brunette quickly turned around, the smile already gracing his face deepening.

"Well hi, coach."

"Congratulations, Cole. You know your catches were pretty legit."

You gave him a slightly impressed face, shrugging your shoulders. He laughed, rolling his eyes playfully.

"You can't win 'em all over, can you?"

You laughed in turn, stepping closer to him. Colston's heart was racing as he looked down into your eyes.

"But really, Cole, you were incredible, serious."

He nodded, accepting your praise with a grin, before he looked around, over-exaggerating a look of being in thought.

"You know, coach, I think I might just deserve a reward, for my quote incredible performance."

Your eyes widened, your heart starting off, faster and faster.

"Really? What might that entail, Cole?"

Shit, he was gonna have to kiss you if you kept calling him that. He was about to take the leap. He knew he had to at some point, and he was on an adrenaline rush, that just chanted at him to do it.

"Well I think it entails you accepting a date with me back in Michigan."

Your jaw dropped slightly, you were dumbfounded. Colston really wanted to go on a date with you?

"For real?"

Colston nodded, seemingly confident, though he was shaking in his boots on the inside.

"Well then, I think we can make that work."

Colston's heart erupted. He literally could not have been happier. He'd just won the Natty, and got his dream girl to agree to a date, holy fuck. You got nervous all of the sudden, leaning up to kiss his cheek, before turning to leave.

"Just text me, Cole!"

He nodded, his eyes following you as you went to go find your family again. His family came back over to him, they'd been gone for just a second but stopped and waited when they saw him talking to you. His family, especially his mom, knew quite a bit about you.

You found your family, immediately grabbing your moms hand to pull her a few steps away. You looked at her with the biggest eyes ever, still in shock over what had just happened.

"What's up, sweetheart? Why are you all, thousand yard stare-y?"

"Mom Colston just asked me out, and I said yes! And then I kissed his cheek! And then I left!"

Your mom laughed, her baby was finally growing up. You'd had a few boyfriends in all your days, but you'd never been proper crushing like you were right now.

"That's so good! I knew this was coming, we just had to wait for one of you to get the courage."

You blushed, hiding your face in your hands. Your smile suddenly dropped, a realization coming to you.

"Is dad gonna hate me?"

"Why would I hate you?"

Shit.

You ended up telling your dad later on in the night, when you were tired and sitting in the back of a restaurant the team was celebrating in. Your family didn't party for too long, having a 4, 7, and 8 year old didn't exactly allow you guys to stay out for too long. Even your parents 19 year old daughter got a bit cranky if she stayed out too late.

When you told your dad, he just laughed. He knew you and Colston had things for each other, he was waiting for the tight end to make a move.

You were stressing. Tonight was your date with Colston. You sat at your vanity, ranting to your roommate over it. You put on makeup and did your hair, wanting to look cute but not over the top.

Colston had told you to wear comfy clothes, so you were in one of your most common outfits. Leggings and a Michigan sweatshirt. You stared at yourself in the mirror, doubting yourself. You had known Colston for over a year, almost two, but you didn't really know him that well. You wanted him to like you so badly.

"Babe, you look fantastic. He's going to stare at you all night."

You sighed at your roommate's encouragement. But before you could respond, you got a text from Colston. He was outside your dorm building. Your roommate pushed you straight out the door, saying bye.

You went down the stairs quickly, making your way out of the complex. You saw Colston as you opened the door, slipping out. He looked up and smiled at you, his stupid beautiful smile.

"Hey, Gorgeous."

You felt the heat on your face even in the Ann Arbor cold. You smiled, shaking your head as you gave him a spin, showing off your extra casual outfit.

"Even in this ensemble?"

He nodded, his smile deepening. He pulled you into his side, hugging you. You were immediately enveloped in his warmth. You ducked your head down to hide the shock in your eyes. He smelled really good.

When you pulled away Colston led you to his car, opening the door for you before going around and getting in. You two buckled up before Colston pulled out of the parking spot, setting off into Ann Arbor. He gave you the aux, warming your heart. You both knew he probably didn't listen to the same music as you, but he wanted you to listen to whatever you liked.

Smaller Acts by Zach Bryan came on when you hit shuffle on your main playlist, making you smile. You resonated with the song, always having thought that smaller acts of love were more important than any grand gestures. You got to really look at Colston while he drove. He kept his eyes right on the road always, until you got to a red light, that's when you'd jerk your head back forward as he turned to look at you. He was really pretty, his jaw was so insanely defined, he had a strong neck, and the deepest brown eyes. You stared at the tattoo on his left forearm, he was hot, to put it simply.

You drove for around 40 minutes before the car slowed, pulling onto a gravel driveway. You looked out of your window, seeing a large screen and projector, and lots of cars. He had brought you to a drive in movie. You could've cried when you saw the sign reading the movie you would be seeing. Ocean's 11. The very first time you ever talked to Colston, he'd asked you your favorite movie. You said you couldn't pick one, then settled on Ocean's 11 because it was one you'd seen so many times you could quote any scene.

You couldn't believe he remembered. You'd never mentioned it since then. That was the kind of smaller, seemingly insignificant thing that meant the world to you. You jerked your head to the left, staring at Colston with wide eyes. He was dealing with the tickets for a few seconds before you pulled into a spot, then he finally looked to you.

"Cole, I cannot believe that you remembered."

Colston smiled, and on the inside he was celebrating that you loved it. What he hadn't expected though was you leaning over the console and hugging him. It was honestly the sweetest thing any guy had ever done for you, you were beyond grateful for this boy, and it was your first date.

"This is the sweetest thing a guy's ever done for me, I'm being serious."

Though you were mostly saying that about the fact that he'd remembered, the date itself was also amazing. Colston knew you enough to know that you'd have preferred this over any fancy restaurant, and that meant a lot.

"It's the least I could do, coach. You mean something to me, 'm gonna take care of you."

You just squirmed in your seat, getting more comfortable and smiling as you looked ahead of you. You wordlessly reached over and slipped your hand into his, pulling them into your lap.

Colston was so happy he could've gotten out of the car and started dancing. He acted as cool as he could on the outside. You two settled in as the movie began.

At some point, Colston had reached back into the backseat and grabbed a blanket that he tossed into your lap, and a bag of food and snacks.

You traced your free hand over Colston's tattoo, admiring the line work and shading. The movie ended, and Colston's hand stayed with you as you two began the drive back. You fell asleep on the drive, your head leaning against Colston's arm.

You woke up slowly about 5 minutes out from school. You kept your head on Colston's arm, but allowed yourself to carelessly stare at him in your tired state. At a stoplight, he turned to look at you, smiling deeply when his eyes met your sleepy ones.

"Hey, coach. Nap good?"

You smiled and nodded, yawning at him. He laughed lowly, turning his head back when the light went green. You parked outside your building, dampening your heart. The night had been perfect. You sleepily got out of Colston's car, after he told you to not dare opening your own door. He walked you up to the entrance with his hand on your back, rubbing his fingers back and forth lightly.

When you got to the door you stopped and turned around, wrapping your arms around his middle.

"Thank you so much Colston. This was like, the best date I think ever."

He smiled, hugging you tightly. Colston had the best time, obviously you were gorgeous, but getting to talk to you one-on-one without interruptions was his idea of a good time. His insides melted whenever you fell asleep, and before then, he could've swore he was in love while you traced over his tattoo.

You pulled away from him, looking at the boy through heavy eyes. He looked absolutely handsome in the dim lighting of a street lamp. You put your hands on his shoulders, leaning up and kissing him. You probably wouldn't have if your drowzy mind hadn't commanded you to. Obviously you wanted to, but you weren't sure if it was 100% mutual yet, but it was.

Colston's hands went to hold the back of your head, his hands in your hair. He kept the kiss shorter than you would've liked, knowing you were tired.

You looked up at him with stars in your eyes, a smiling fighting its way onto you face. Colston's hands shifted from your hair to your jaw, rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

"I'll see you tomorrow baby."

Your blown out eyes widened at the name, your heart clenching in your chest. Colston saw the reaction, his lips quirking up the slightest bit.

"I'll see you, Loveland."

You let go of him, turning towards the door. You paused for a second, quickly turning back around and kissing Colston again. Colston's hands grabbed at your hips, pulling you closer. Colston smiled brightly into the kiss, giggling to himself.

You pulled away from him, a grin falling to your face.

"You ever gonna let me leave, coach?"

"Thinkin' about it."

"You get inside, gorgeous. It's too cold for you to be out here."

You smiled, nodding at him, letting go of him for the last time.

"You gotta go too, off season just started. You gotta stay on your A-Game Loveland."

He laughed at you, shaking his head as he watched you walk into the dorm complex, turning the corner and out of his sight. You ran back up the stairs and to your room, squealing like a 13 year old as you described your date to your roommate.

Colston sat in his car, texting his mom that everything went well. When he put his phone away, he finally let himself think that you were the girl he'd want to be with forever. It was finally real. The boy just had to be patient.

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acewritesfics · 6 months ago

Text

I want to know what love is | Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader

Request: No.

Warnings: None. F/F - Favorite flowers : F/P - Favorite Pizza : F/D - Favorite Drink.

Word Count: 1,343

Stranger Things Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Dustin startles Eddie out of his thoughts on how his new D&D campaign is going and what direction he could take it in by dropping his lunch tray on the table and sitting in the chair to his right. He directs his scowl at the teenage boy who is rearranging his food on the tray.

“Right now, I Want To Know What Love Is by Foreigner is her favorite song. F/P pizza and F/D are always a good choice. Those are her favorite food and drink. Despite her refusal to acknowledge it, she also loves F/F and loves it when someone buys them for her. She has a tendency to be a hopeless romantic but don’t bother taking her anyplace where she needs to get dressed up fancy and eat fancy food she can’t pronounce the name of. She enjoys grand gestures, despite the fact that she thinks they are incredibly cheesy. I swear she’s a walking contradiction when it comes to romance,” Dustin drones on and on about his older sister’s preferences when it comes to dating. “And as much as it pains me, she really likes you… a lot.”

Eddie and Y/N Henderson were classmates in high school. Eddie was initially supposed to graduate the same year as she did. Despite the fact that they had not been friends, the two of them had several classes together and were sometimes paired up for assignments and projects. She was always kind and friendly towards him. Y/N was also a bit of a nerd; she was constantly buried in a fantasy novel, with The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe from The Chronicles of Narnia series being her personal favourite. When they had been paired together for projects a few times, they had bonded over their shared music and movie tastes, but they had never gone any further than classmates.

Eddie used to have a small crush on her, but he would never admit it to anyone let alone himself at the time. She left for college for a year after graduating, while he went back to high school to repeat his his senior year.

When Dustin started high school and joined Eddie’s Hellfire Club, the two eventually reconnected. Y/N was responsible for picking up her brother after Hellfire Club due to their mom working nights. Eddie was taken aback when he saw her again. He had no idea how it happened, but Y/N had become even more beautiful in his eyes. She was no longer the shy teenage girl he had a schoolboy crush on but a beautiful woman he fantasized about possibly having a future with.

“What are you talking about, Henderson?” the metalhead fantasy freak questions him. He has a frustrated expression on his face and confused eyes.

“You’re as clueless as she is,” Dustin mutters to himself, rolling his eyes. Eddie scowls at him. “My sister!” He exclaims, drawing the attention of those at the next table. “As much as I want to throw up at the thought of her dating, I would rather she be with you than some jerk who will make her miserable.”

Eddie’s expression changes from annoyance to confusion and then to realization. “Are you giving me permission to date your sister?”

“If you want to put it that way, sure.” He shrugs.

“Why do you—I don’t know—You think-” He stumbles over his words until Dustin cuts him off.

“Cut the shit, Munson. I know my sister, and I believe I know you well enough to know that you two have something special. I haven’t seen her smile, laugh, or be happy since she left for college until you two started talking again. You can’t deny that you have feelings for her as well. When you see her, your eyes light up, you smile more, you’re nicer, and you actually let her sit in on a campaign. You would never allow non-members to do that!”

Eddie refutes the presumptions of his younger friend. “That means absolutely nothing.”

Although he would be overjoyed if she were interested in him, he didn’t believe that she is. He didn’t think he - a metalhead, a third-year senior, Hawkins’ freak, Hellfire club leader, and D&D fan - could make Y/N - A queen of hearts, according to him, who is smart, funny, kind, and compassionate - happy. It didn’t help his case that she enjoyed metal music, fantasy books, and movies and would make the time to come and see Corroded Coffin play at the Hide Out every Tuesday night. The voices of his fellow students taunting him served as constant reminders of who he is and where he’s at. He kept telling himself that she deserved better than him, what he could give her and the life they would have.

“It means everything!” Dustin shouts at him.

He starts to say something but stops himself when the others begin to join them, taking their usual seats. He gives Dustin a stern look telling him to drop it. Eddie’s most recent D&D campaign, however, was now pushed to the back of his mind as all he could think about was Y/N and Dustin’s words.

Ten minutes go by before Eddie kicks Dustin’s chair, gaining his attention again. “Is she at home today?”

Dustin nods, takes out a piece of paper, and writes his address and phone number on it before handing it to him. “She has the day off. She doesn’t have to go to work until tomorrow night.”

Eddie gets up from his chair and takes the piece of paper. The other boys are left watching him with bewildered looks as he picks up his “lunchbox” and rushes out of the cafeteria. He wasn’t typically one to get up and leave mid-lunch. He takes out the few coins he has in his pocket and walks over to the payphones. He picks up the phone, dials the numbers that Dustin had written down, and then waits for someone to answer.

After the third ring, the ringing stops, and Y/N’s sweet voice can be heard through the receiver. His sudden surge of confidence quickly fades away, his mouth goes dry, his heart racing, and his mind goes blank. This was harder than he anticipated.

“Hello?” he hears her say a second time when he didn’t say anything.

“It’s Eddie,” he tells her, shaking his head and mentally cussing himself for how he was acting.

“Hey, everything all right? Is Dustin okay?” Her voice is filled with concern as she asks. Even when they paired up on school projects, Eddie had never called her. She was always the one to call before he was able to.

When she did, he was relieved because he didn’t want to admit that the day after she had given him her number, he had lost it while cleaning his room.

“Everything is fine,” he says, assuring her. “And Dustin is Dustin.”

“That’s a relief. I can’t picture the day when Dustin stops being Dustin,” She quips.

Eddie grins, “I hope he never stops being Dustin.”

“Me too.”

“So…” Eddie begins, regaining his confidence. “Do you have any plans for tonight?”

“I don’t have any plans,” she tells him.

"I was wondering if you wanted to hang out without the kids,” he says, referring to the members of his club. “We don’t have to. I just thought it would be fun to watch a movie, order a pizza and get to know each other better. A certain kid won’t shut up about you.”

“I would like that,” she agrees.

“Good. Shall we aim for 7? I can come get you.” he offers.

“That sounds good to me,” she says. Eddie can hear the smile in her voice. “And Dustin won’t shut up about you too.”

“Good to know,” he says, grinning. “I have to get to class. I’ll see you at seven.”

“See you then. Have fun.”

“I’ll try,” he scoffs jokingly, before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. He walks back into school, unable to wipe the large grin from his face.

#acewritesfics repost #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things x y/n

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gremlinmodetweeker · 1 month ago

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Oh my God, your latest Cat AU prompt had me in a chokehold. Please keep writing them (of course when or if you want to, frfr) 🙏 Love em!!

I love your art and stories, I always have my eye out for you on my feed. Thank you for your time and gifting us your art.

Have you thought of mashing this all together into one big story/continuous chapters? Do you like getting ask prompts? Do you own cats? What's your favorite candy? (Haha ok maybe those last questions are unrelated, but I lost my childhood girlboss kitty who would steal pizza slices off the stove and fight coyotes reminds me of cat!Horangi and I'm a slut for sweets)

Thanks again for your time and hope all is well!

Okay, so, this is a long ask so forgive me for rambling a bit.

Most imortantly, thank you so so much for your support! As an up-and-coming writer on tumblr, this means the world to me. I cannot stress how thankful I am for all the messages, comments, reblogs and likes. Everything means so so much to me. I know I'm not the best artist/writer out there, but anythign you guys give me makes me smile, laugh and feel like I actually finally have a place in fandom. I finally feel like I'm not just observing, but actually adding to a community (Sideplug here's a konig tumblr community I started: https://www.tumblr.com/join/IsfMVrTZ). I cannot thank you all enough for giving me a place here at the table.

Now, as for CatHybrid!CoD, it's weird. I have a lot of thoughts of what's going on in the background (namely Shadow Company, TF141, and the rest of KorTac and what they're up to) but I really like to focus on König and Horangi because, ya know, they're my favs. I love those two goofballs. I think they're great and I love love love writing for them. Unfortunately, I'm really bad at coming up with random prompts on my own, so yes, I rely on asks to make Cat Hybrid!CoD a thing. I absolutely need asks. I love the asks because they inspire me to flesh out this world all the time. I cannot stress how much I appreciate them.

I would like to make a longer story, but I know the story ends with König and Horangi revealing their true hybrid status to reader and thus revealing the secret. Part of the joy of this story is keeping the secret, right? So it's hard because on one hand, I want to keep the secret forever, but I know the truth has to come out eventually. I don't know how to make the story yet because of that. I just get so conflicted. I could try it out though if you'd like? It's something to consider. I'm going up north to my parents for Christmas, so I might not have anything before then. Forgive me for that.

Finally, I do have a cat! Part of the big reason I'm going up north is to bring my senior cat back home with me. I feel bad moving an older cat, but Clovis is bonded to me. He gets miserable when I leave. I had to leave him behind when I moved out to college, but now I found a place where I can keep him with me. I love him so so much and he loves me, so I'm bringing him home where I can give him all the care he needs.

Since I have a cat, I know how painful it is to lose your best friend. It's heart wrenching beyond belief. I hope you're feeling okay now, and I hope your little girl is somewhere better now. I cannot stress how haunting the grief is. You learn to live, but in the beginning? I am still a bit shaken honestly. I hope Cat!Horangi can continue to inspire joy for you and make you smile.

Favourite candy? Candy corn, lindor's milk/peppermint/white chocolate, cadbury/lindt milk/white chocolate and the like. I don't like darrk chocolate so much (I got an 11lb bar of dark chocolate years ago and it was too much).

But yeah! Please send asks, they make this whole au real. I love them dearly. I'm not always the most timely in answering them (one in my inbox hasn't been answered because I'm still setting up the software to be able to ask it) but yeah, I do love asks. They always make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

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darkhawk2021 · 4 days ago

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RE: pparacxosm

I never post or interact on tumblr before but I feel like I was the only one who saw this situation and I need to share.

Please read the whole thing and if you’re someone who pparacxosm spoke to frequently or you think she’d be looking at your blog then please reblog because I hope they can see this.

I’m going to start with some context: in 2018 I got accepted into college after repeating my senior year more than twice and having to take multiple gap years to save up. there was lots of personal drama in my family too and I was also suffering from mental illness. And then within like the first two months of school I procrastinated on an assignment and in a panic I totslly plagiarised the whole thing last minute. I got caught (obviously) and was expelled from the university and that whole event made it that I couldn’t reapply to any universities for a long time.

Eventually it all worked out and I’m now back in school but I say all this to say that maybe I’m projecting here and maybe I’m giving the benefit of the doubt but I know how scary and painful something like this is and I know how deep the regret can go, especially because this is such an avoidable mistake that

now I am not saying this is 100% the reason pparacxosm left. I don’t know obviously. Vut I’m just speculating. (also all links will be from @grimsonandclover because she reposted all of pparacxosm’s works and it was just easier having it all in one place)

OK so as we know pparacxosm deactivated shortly after publishing this fanfic for Riff lorton from West Side story:https://www.tumblr.com/grimsonandclover/773054457368985600/this-made-me-pause-and-sit-back-and-think-about?source=share

I remember reading it pretty much right after it was posted, and then seeing a certain comment. now I do so badly wish I had screenshotted it, but everything happened so quickly so I can’t even remember the commenter’s name. but basically, the comment was stating that the fic was ‘suspiciously’ similar to another fic on ao3 and then added the link.

(here is the link, but please finish reading this before going there: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22793593)

also I totally understand if you don’t even want to see it because it might ruin the wholeness of pparacxosm’s fic for you, but let me just explain.

Basically I went and looked at the linked fic and when I came back to tumblr both the comment and pparacxosm’s account had been deleted. Again, I don’t know that this was the reason but the timing is obviously interesting.

there’s 2 sections of pparacxosm’s fic that mirror this other one but in all fairness, they’re two of the most thematic sections of the latter so I don’t want to downplay how harmful this is.

for context here are the sections.

it’s the beginning dialogue, which was edited to fit the situation in pparacxosm’s fic

and then this part about synchronicity which was definitely less edited

What really really broke my heart about this is how 1 - the rest of the fic doesn’t seem to be plagiarised at all! & 2 - pparacxosm didn’t even need to take those sections as they were. Truly speaking of she had just tweaked them a little more and credited that fic for inspiration there would be no issue at all. So if the fact that she deleted as soon as someone caught on shows that she had nefarious intentions I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I was such a fan but I’s like to think she was just scared and didn’t know what to do.

& something worth noting is that this wasn’t a frequent occurrence. I soent time last night looking into all of their work and it seems that most of their fics (Blue-eyed Son, Wounded in, Uta hagen, Stream of green, Dearly beloved, Something borrowed, Sigh like a chime) are from what I could tell entirely original! And that’s so crazy to me because things like uta hagen and Stream Of green are so original and unique to me and some of my fav things of theirs so I don’t know why they wouldn’t believe they have the talent to write for themselves when they totally do.

And those which do contain plagiarism from what I researched are also just small sections. Like in wounded in it was some dialogue from two other fics (both by the same person who wrote ‘baby teeth’). in hunger is ugly, it was a bit of a larger section (also from a fic from that same writer) but still only 1 section. and in Home Again Empty it was just one section from the middle, the one talking about how “you weren’t encouraged to befriend the residents” (also from a fic from the same writer), but even that pparacxosm also tweaked to fit the story, and the changes they made really showed their own personal writing style and individuality which tells me they really didn’t need to do that at all

I tried to check if pparacxosm has any connection to this writer, but it doesn’t seem like it.

This all just makes me so sad because they were clearly so capable and I think of the guilt that I was feeling when I got caught for this in college and I can only imagine what they’re feeling now.

but like look. for example this entire excerpt from the Riff Lorton fic I truly think was absolutely stellar and I can find no trace of from any other sources, so this was all pparacxosm:

and don’t even get me started on the last bits of that fic (of which I also couldn’t find any other similar sources)! That was so good! So descriptive and emotive and completely original

especially this for me:

So so good!

I mean anyone who really paid attention to their writing knows that pparacxosm had a very distinct style. Their humor and word choices and the way they combined words was always so charming and original to me, like you could identify a pparacxosm fic without knowing it was them and I had a professor always told me that that was the marker of a great writer. little things like that, which were completely them like they weren’t plagiarised from anything, tells me that they really had an identity as a writer and maybe that’s why I just want to believe they made an honest mistake, as immoral as this behaviour is.

both times pparacxosm has left before (first when they deactivated her original account and then recently with their hiatus in I think November?) they said it was because of personal issues, and sort of implied theybwere suffering from some stuff (I don’t want to make any diagnosis or anything. And I do believe all that was true. I reached out to them after they came back most recently and I got the vibe that they sometimes aren’t doing that well emotionally or at least that’s what they sort of told me. I won’t post the DMs because that feels like an invasion of privacy

I do believe they are a talented writer and I think personally they were kind of going through some stuff. anyone who dms them personally probably would have heard them say they were conflicted about school and stuff. I feel like there was just a lot going on with them and maybe it manifested in this way. that said: obviously plagiarism is inexcusable and if it’s maybe guilt that made them leave then I can only hope they use the time away to examine that and work through it. I think an apology and proper explanation would be nice but I doubt we’ll ever see them again. I don’t think this means they shouldn’t be a writer, but I think they has a lot of personal stuff to do (like internal work) that they couldn’t have done on here. this is just my theory, I think there are other people on here who spoke to them more than I did but yeah.

I think it’s completely important to maintain a no-tolerance policy to this kind of thing in fanfic spaces and hold them accountable, but I also hope they know that if they came back and wanted to continue writing the right way I’m pretty sure we’d all be forgiving and supportive. They clearly have a skill and a passion and I don’t want them to lose out on it just because of a silly mistake on a platform that focuses on community and I hope they can use this as a learning opportunity so that they don’t make this misstep on a larger scale where it would actually matter and seriously effect them (eg. college).

I was thinking of making a Google drive with all the examples of plagiarism in their work (and honest to god there aren’t that many!) but I was concerned about it maybe blowing up into a bigger thing that it really is and potentially affecting their real life? which is the last thing I want, but if people are curious I could also just put the rest in reblogs.

Anyways this isn’t meant to be some sort of take-down or me trying to cancel them. If you’re a person who considers yourself a fan of poaracxosm’s work, that doesn’t need to change because from what I can tell, there really aren’t too many examples of this but also one is enough for us to have to call attention to. maybe this can just bring to light or start a conversation about the nature of writing with no incentive/how open social media requires us to be. Stuff like that. This situation is less about a few plagiarised paragraphs than it is about the fact that pparacxosm potentially felt so guilty/shameful/was dealing with other stuff that it was enough for them to completely delete their account and give up everything they’d worked for which really breaks my heart.

pparacxosm if you’re seeing this I hope this didn’t offend you and I hope you know that it matters more to us all to have you here than what you did. I’m more than willing to forgive this and move on and see what else you have to share. I still reread so many of your fics and will continue to. you are truly talented and I could tell you really valued this space and I don’t want you to just abandon it when you may potentially have been using it as a safe space. I don’t know you that well and I don’t know the things you are going through, but I hope you know it will be okay and that you have people who support you :)

#pparacxosm #not sure how to tag this but I hope it gets out there!#share your thoughts in the comment

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blossomwritesthings · 7 months ago

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𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬

⬷ 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 ┊ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

pairing: minho x felix (minlix)

genre: dancer!minho/artist!felix. brothers best friend troupe. college au. age gap (abt 4 years). minho pov. extremely dark themes throughout, including smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

word count: 3.0k

the playlist 🗡️

a/n: I'm already starting to write chapter 5 of this people, and it's continuing to get better and better as I work on it lmao!! 😂 This chapter was a little bit on the shorter side and dealt with a lot of the world building, but I wanted to set a solid foundation for how most of minlix's childhood was...But even still, I dropped subtle hints throughout that possibly could allude to something a lot more and darker happening on behind everyone... anyways, hope you guys enjoyed! 💙

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

̶﹒⊹﹒ʙᴀɴɢ-ʙᴀɴɢ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴅᴇᴘʀᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴏʀ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ！،، 🌌 𖥻 𓂃 ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴇ’ʟʟ ʙᴇᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴏʀ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴇᴛ ʜɪᴍ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ╰╮ 🌑

The first time Lee Minho saw Lee Felix after five years of being apart, he was shocked by a jolt of lightning. And it wasn’t the good kind of lightning. To be honest, it was painful and searing. It left his skin feeling red and raw, the veins in his entire body thrumming with stark, firey surprise.

His entire life, the image of Lee Felix in Minho’s mind had always been that of the pure younger brother. The younger brother to his childhood best friend, Chris. Growing up, he and Chris spent every waking minute together — including attending the same middle/high school and even university. And of course, Felix was always around. Always a phantom floating in the background, sometimes a part of their plans, but sometimes not. Annoying, at times. But sometimes, fun to hang out with. It just depended on whatever mood Felix was in— as he was always moody.

He existed in the back of all Minho’s thoughts but as a mere side character to the elaborate story that he and Chris were building together as best friends. And once they went off to university together, Felix finally fell away to the wayside. Granted, during their four years of studies, Chris would briefly mention Felix in passing… about how he was the popular kid at their old high school and how he was excelling in his grades.

But for the most part, the two best friends were a little too busy with their own hectic lives to care about an annoying little brother. What with Chris diving headfirst into his Musical Producing Degree and Minho pursuing his passions within his Technical Performance Degree, they had their hands quite full. On the side, they worked at the same performing arts studio that a lot of their classmates worked at too. Chris was busy interning as a producer there, while Minho was an apprentice dance instructor.

They worked like that, studying at the Korean National University of Arts and working at their part-time jobs for four long years. And finally, in their Senior year, their lives came full circle again. Just like that, Minho was transported back to the days of their childhood, when they were bumming around their small town in Busan and hanging out with Felix whenever he begged Chris enough to let him into their cool party of two.

Immediately upon enrollment at the University, Lee Felix was a sensation across campus. He was making waves in the culture— with his fashion sense, his aura, his good grades. Everything about him radiated confidence— or so, that’s what some of the seniors in Minho’s dance classes whispered about. In the cafeteria, Minho could hear sophomore’s laughing and gossiping about the elaborate parties Felix held at his dorm, about the crazy shit that went down at them between his large group of friends.

And of course, Chris was swamped with too much work and his studies to care about meeting up with his little brother anytime soon. Minho had heard from the grapevine that Felix was studying something related to fashion design. Honestly, Minho was quite surprised at that fact, since Felix had always dressed rather…simply, growing up.

If anything, Chris was the one out of the two brothers who were more fashionably inclined and more interested in streetwear and trendy clothing options. Meanwhile, Felix opted for a lot of preppy looks… things that showed off his pure and innocent vibe.

But perhaps, based on the wild parties that he was throwing, Felix was no longer that young and wide-eyed boy from their childhoods.

Minho was wrapped up so much in his world of just fucking graduating that he never had free time out of work or classes to run into Felix. He only heard snippets of the younger boy’s life from other people… about his popularity and his godly looks.

It wasn’t until one day in the middle of his senior year, when it was a cool September day out and the trees were bursting with colors of gold and crimson that finally— finally, he saw Felix again. After so many years.

Honestly, it was like a chance of fate.

He had gotten the day off from work because his mentor was on vacation for the weekend, and he was already finished with all of his homework for the rest of the weekend. So he was completely free to do whatever he pleased. That, of course, included a nice long walk around the university’s gardens.

Minho loved the autumnal scenery outside. How the chilly air bit at his cheeks and sent a shiver through his bones, how the drying leaves crunched underneath his boots, how there wasn’t a soul in sight around him. As much as he loved Chris, and the two other friends — Hyujin and Changbin — that he had made at university, he also didn’t mind the somberness of his own company.

At least, he was the only one traversing the gardens until he came upon a figure sitting alone on a bench. It was strategically placed under a large oak that was weeping leaves of crimson. The topaz and garnet flecks of color danced around the figure, twirling down, down, down, onto the ground around them like little flecks of a brilliant autumnal rainbow.

As Minho approached the figure more closely on his path back to his dorm, he noticed the person’s sloped shoulders and the way their curly, bleached-blonde hair swept across the nape of their neck in the graceful breeze. And it was only when he was close enough that he could smell their scent — of sweet lilies and candy apples — that he realized the person was focusing on something.

They were… drawing, in a sketchbook that they held in their arms. With their legs crossed atop the bench, they were completely focused on their craft. And with the glance Minho took at the ivory paper in the person's lap, he could tell they were designing some kind of outfit.

“Beautiful day to do art, hmm?” Minho mused out loud in a quiet voice. Even still, he completely startled the artist — awakening them out of their daze of craft.

For a moment, they froze in their place, just sitting there in silence as Minho finally rounded the corner of the bench and faced them.

Just then, they managed to tear their eyes away from the paper in their hands, offering Minho their full attention.

Minho’s breath caught in his chest instantly.

The chilled breeze ripped it right out of his lungs, making it hard to inhale and exhale.

He could feel his entire body set on fire at the sight of who the person was…

Lee Felix.

The boy he hadn’t seen in almost four years.

The boy who was always in the background while Minho grew up beside his best friend Chris. There, but not of any importance... half of the time.

And yet, there he was once again — like an ethereal, shining ghost of the past.

Because goddamn, was the older version of Felix ethereal.

His skin was so smooth and milky-white, that it looked like the outside of a brilliant seashell.

His pink, rosebud lips pursed a little bit as his eyes scoured down Minho’s entire frame. Chestnut-brown irises lit up with realization only slightly, as his brain finally registered who was standing in front of him.

But perhaps the biggest shock for Minho was the way that Felix carried himself, the way he was dressed. Because although he had heard rumors about it around campus, he hadn’t seen it up close and personal yet.

Felix was dressed in loose-fitting linen pants that were the whitest of creams, paired with a ruffled shirt that had buttons all down the cufflinks. Half of the buttons attached to the v-neck of the top were open, offering Minho — and practically the entire fucking campus — large glimpses of the chiseled muscles just underneath the fabric there. A black leather trench coat was draped across his shoulders, offering a semblance of warmth against the cool autumn day. And each time he moved, the pounds of jewelry he was wearing clinked and shined against each other — silver rings and cords of pearls around his neck and at least a dozen different piercings in his ears filled with diamonds and silver studs.

“Holy shit— it’s been, what… five fucking years or something?” Felix was the first one to speak after Minho had initially spooked him out of his artist stupor. Running a few ink-stained hands through his blonde tresses, he offered Minho a casual, dazzling smile.

Minho was a little taken aback by his words, how he let the curse words slip free from his red-stained lips so easily. Growing up, Felix had never been a big one for the profane. But he supposed, Felix was no longer a child and an adult in university, of course, it was normal for him to use a derogatory word once in a while.

“Yeah, it’s been a long time. How’ve you been, Lix?” Minho asked, walking towards the nearby tree that was still raining autumnal leaves down on both of them and leaning his shoulder against the cool bark. “I hear you’re studying fashion. That’s gotta be pretty interesting.”

Shrugging slowly, Felix made quick work of shoving his sketchbook back into the canvas bag at his side. “Eh— it has its annoying moments, but for the most part, I like the shit that I learn about fashion. It’s pretty interesting.” Not affording Minho a glance as he focused on tidying up his workspace, the elder man was able to freely examine the younger as much as he wanted. Felix seemed a lot more… nimble, since the last time Minho had seen him. Too skinny, if he was really honest with himself. Just then, Felix met his gaze again, eyes scanning his entire face. “And I heard you’re a prestigious dancer around these parts.”

Minho could feel the familiarity of a blush creep up his neck and into his cheeks. He didn’t know why he was getting shy about it, but— the fact that Felix, a young, small part of his childhood, was offhandedly flattering his skills, did something funny in the pit of Minho’s stomach. “Uhm— I’m just an apprentice dance instructor at this place outside campus. It’s nothing fancy. And when I’m not working, I’m in the studio of the Technical Arts Building practicing for class.”

“Oh, then I’ll have to come by sometime so you can teach me so cool moves,” Felix said, playfully wiggling his eyebrows. He was still looking at Minho’s face, watching as the crimson flush overtook his entire body. Bursting out in a fit of laughter, Felix almost doubled over at the sight of it. “Holy fuck— your face is so fucking funny!”

Rolling his eyes only slightly, Minho sighed from the embarrassment. “Stop torturing me, I hate when people I know watch me dance. I refuse to have Chris in the studio for that very reason.”

At that, Felix’s laughter stopped abruptly. “And why is that? Is it just too— embarrassing, or something?”

“I don’t know what the feeling surrounding it is. I just… I prefer when strangers watch me, that way they can’t pick apart my body language in the moment or my facial expressions.”

Slinging his tote bag around his shoulder, Felix stood up from the bench and tilted his head to the side quizzically. “Yeah, I think I get that. It’s why I don’t like people watching me draw. Makes me feel like they’re peeking into a part of myself I’d rather keep hidden.”

“Even if you’re only drawing clothes?”

“Well, kinda— but more so when I draw things just for… Me. That’s the stuff I never want to see the light of day, let alone other’s eyes.”

Minho could feel a faint smile creep across his lips at that, finding comfort in the fact that Felix could somewhat relate to him. Unlike his friends Chris and Changbin, who just loved to show everyone their newest work. And besides that, Minho’s dance partner and friend Hyunjin was quite a moth to the spotlight as well. So he had no one to relate to.

“I guess we can both hide our craft away from everyone until the end of time then.” Minho laughed, nudging Felix’s shoulder lightly as he walked past him. And just like that, they fell into an easy traverse across the garden's pathway. For being shorter than Minho, Felix sure did keep up with the brisk pace he set.

Felix turned to him as they walked, a tiny smirk gracing his lips as he practically stared right into Minho's soul. “And who knows, maybe if you played it right— I’d offer you the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see my real, personal artwork.”

The way that Felix’s tongue twirled around the world ‘played’ was dangerous for Minho at that moment. Even still, he managed to flash him a nonchalant smile. “Felix— no. I’m like… five years older than you.” He had heard the gossip around campus, how Felix would sleep with anyone he could get his hands on. Boy or girl, it didn’t seem to matter to him. But unlike Felix, Minho was the exact opposite. The last solid relationship he had been in was when he first started university, and they had mutually broken up after the guy moved across the world to be a transfer student in Europe for his Sophomore year.

“Although, I like when people say no… gives it a sense of thrill, hmm?” Felix said in a soft tone, the words cascading around Minho, floating over his ears and making the edge of his spine shiver only by a little bit.

With that, Minho pushed Felix a little by his shoulder again, enough to force more distance between their walking bodies for his mental sanity. “Okay, hot stuff- keep it in your pants for your own age group.”

Felix dropped the topic after that, laughing softly and focusing more on the surrounding landscape around them. For a while, they walked in silence, just taking in the beautiful scenery that was all around the garden. As the quietness wrapped around them, Minho’s heart rate was able to calm down. He wasn’t used to Felix being so… openly flirty. His entire life, Felix had always been the quiet wallflower around everyone else — the one that wasn’t loud and never stepped out of line from his parent’s guidance. He was the better, well-behaved child out of the two brothers.

“Hey, I’m having a party at my dorm this Saturday night, you should stop by sometime— it’s gonna be a real fucking blast,” Felix started, as they slowly neared the main campus’s grounds. When he saw the wide-eyed look Minho gave him in surprise, he waved off any worries the older man might have. “Don’t worry, it’s super chill— and you won’t be the oldest person there, I promise.”

Raising a questioning eyebrow slowly, Minho’s gaze locked with Felix as he studied his face. And just then, he realized that the entire time they had been reconnecting in the park, he hadn’t been able to get a read on the younger boy. He thought he had been able to gauge his emotions, but really, Minho was realizing that the smiles and laughs might’ve just been a farce in the first place.

“I’ll think about it, okay?” Minho offered, not having the heart to completely turn him down. Because at the most, he could tell that Felix truly wanted him there. Even though they hadn't spent time together in so long, perhaps things would change now that they were both adults and attending the same university. “The fact that you’ve barely been here three months and you already know so many people to hold parties at such large calibers honestly kinda scares me.”

Rolling his eyes, Felix playfully hit Minho’s shoulder, “Oh shut up— I’ve been the popular kid for a long time now.”

“Apparently so.”

After that, they stopped just in front of the freshman’s dormitory complex. The housing on campus was dispersed between the school years so that the seniors lived on the other side of campus from freshman. Just to make sure the parties of the young folk didn’t disrupt the soon-to-be-graduates.

“Well, this is me. I should uh— finish my project.” Felix motioned with his head to the tote bad he still had a firm grip on. “It was nice seeing you though, Minho. And maybe you’ll grace everyone with your dancer presence this weekend.”

And without even realizing what he was doing, Minho reached out across the widening space between them and gently ruffled Felix’s long, blonde tresses. For a mere second, the expression on Felix’s face turned completely glassy, melting into a certain emotion that Minho couldn’t quite place. That he didn't want to understand.

“I’ll see ya around, I guess.” Minho found himself saying in a soft voice, his hand dropping from Felix’s long locks and briefly brushing across the back of his neck before fully pulling away.

And before Felix could say anything else — before Minho could do anything more out of character or anything else stupid — Minho finally left the charged orbit of Felix’s presence. Backing away, he turned and started down the park’s pathway again without another glance behind him.

Even when he felt gentle eyes following his figure the whole way down the path that led back to his dorm. Even when the feeling didn't leave him until he was completely out of sight, Minho never stopped and never looked back.

It was better for both of them, he thought at that moment.

Yes, definitely a lot better than anything else.

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months ago

Note

WIBTA for telling my friend I can’t drive him to and from work every day, even if I am not at school or work?

Hello! So I have a lot of feelings about this that I am struggling to sort through. I will start this off by saying I am planning to talk to him no matter what cause it needs to happen, but I don’t know whether I should outright refuse to give him a ride sometimes.

Background: My friend has been going through a rough time recently, it boils down to him losing a family member last year that means his immediate family wasn’t gaining any income because his siblings are in school or out of the house already and his mom can’t work. He started college, but was unable to afford this semester, so he is staying with me and my family until he can save up for next semester, he would not really have anywhere to stay if he wasn’t staying with us, and I am glad that we can help keep him from a rougher situation. I know this is all stressful for him.

He and I now both work at the same place, which is a 10 minute or less walk if you do it fast, I can see it taking 15-20 if you walk really slow. It is also a pretty much less than 5 minute drive. He wants me to drive him to and from work pretty much every day that I have a car and the time to do it, but this is where the issue is. For some reason, this makes me extremely anxious. I don’t get this anxious when I drive myself places, or my siblings. But when he asks me to drive him somewhere when I have free time, I get anxious to the point of nausea and I get pangs of anxiety in my chest when I even think about it. This has been happening since I had to drive him to and from his high school pretty much every day his senior year, and some days I felt like I was going to break down because of it. I don’t think I would fully stop driving him at all, that is not what I would consider a solution. Also I don’t want to not drive him because it feels selfish and he told me he has joint pain exacerbated by walking, so I don’t know what to tell him when I talk to him. WIBTA if I told him I can’t drive him all the time?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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rosietaeyongswife · 1 year ago

Text

maps | jjh

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive, secret agent jaehyun x reader synopsis: Your husband was killed year ago by an unknown man. The griev and unsolved case kept you at night. After meeting your late husband's unfamiliar friend, you found new mission in your life. Find out who killed your husband Jaehyun. wc: 7.5k tw: cursing, blood, death, suggestive themes, guns, misscariage, grammar mistakes etc. au: it's been a long time lol there are still mistakes for sure, but i think i got better? at least i'm trying. hope you enjoy this. as always, i made it with jaehyun, because he literally fits every role??? peace yo

"It's been a year, move on." Your father sat down with a cup of tea in his left hand. "I love you, you're my daughter and I'm aware you loved him deeply. We all are. I mean, you can't ruin your life, because your husband got killed. I'm not saying you should forget him, I'm saying you should move on, Y/N. Please."

Seems like it's about 100th time your father brings the topic. Not even mentioning other people in your life. They could never understand the pain you feel. They could never understand how does it feel to lose person you've loved for so many years.

"How am I supposed to move on, dad? Tell me, how? I can't sleep at night, I have to go to therapy and take these pills that makes me weak as a bitch, and I don't even have an energy to talk with you, yet you're here telling me to move on?" Telling him all that felt relieving. Made you feel lighter. "You don't have any idea how it is. None of you! I don't want to see you or mom, coming here and acting as if y'all are my therapist."

"We're trying to help you, you're our daughter. We mean only the best for you, okay? Honey, you can't freeze in time and griev your whole life. Jaehyun wouldn't want that."

"Don't speak about it. You didn't even know him. Leave it, please."

Jaehyun was married to you for almost four years, and these were the best years of your life. You met at high school, then started dating at your senior year at college, and get married two years later. The job he had made your life harder. He was working for Korean Secret Forces, as an agent. High rank, excellent skills and results.

He was supposed to be go on a trip to Japan, when he got shot and killed. No one knows why, nor how did it happened.

"Y/N, you have still a lot to live. Being mean towards us won't change a thing. I'm leaving, if you need something, call us."

Cementary felt like your second home. A year ago, you used to come here everyday for two months, then lesser and now you're doing it once a week. Always brining candles or flowers with you. Your husband deserves to never be forgotten.

Crossing path, you spotted a man sitting by your husband's grave. Walking slowly to see who is it, you saw a face you've never seen before.

"Mind asking, who you are?"

Man turned around, and looked into your eyes. He was about 10cm highter than you, and had white, medium lenght hair. His gaze was strong, and gave you chills.

"You're his wife, right?" You nodded. "Jaehyun was a great man. I've never had a chance to meet you, and talk because of work, but I used to work with your husband. We were pretty close, I guess." He seems to be saying the truth, but you were bit taken aback. You knew majority of Jaehyun friends, but not him. "Jaehyun probably never mentioned my name, I am Yuta."

"Nice to meet you. My name is Y/N." You two shake your hands. "Is there a reason why he didn't meniton you?"

"Listen Y/N, I can't tell you much-"

"He was killed by Secret Forces, wasn't he? It wasn't an accident." You claimed while blankly staring at Yuta.

"How-"

"Jaehyun was too good for a rookie mistake, I'm sure he would dodge the bullet. Answer me honestly."

Yuta sighed. People way above him, or Jaehyun, made an awesome narrative. Most skilled and talented man of Secret Forces got shot by unknown man on his off duty. Unbeliveable lie.

"It for sure wasn't an accident. As I said, I can't tell you much. But I want you to be careful, it's dangerous. Jaehyun found something and it got him killed. I don't want you to die or to suffer, because of that. I promised Jaehyun to keep an eye on you."

Your heart almost stopped, and your vission was blurry. Of course, you had some theories on why did Jaehyun die, but mostly it was his postion in work. Many would kill for his job, and it'd be good reason to kill him. But now, as you're aware it wasn't it, you felt sick.

"What are you talking about? What did he find?"

"I can't tell you, because I'm not aware of everything. I'd suggest for you to not dig into it. Live your life, and don't look for anything, Y/N."

"My husband was killed, because he found something. He was killed, while we have expected the baby! He left me alone, hearbroken and lonely. Don't you think, I deserve at least the reason?"

"Baby? You're mother?"

Yuta was surprised, because he has been following you for months, since Jaehyun knew he was in trouble, yet he had never seen you with a child.

"I had a misscariage. It was thrid month, when Jaehyun died. Due to stress and everything, my body gave up. Awful times." You tried to laugh, but you failed. "I don't want to complain about my life, there's no point. I want the truth."

"Just leave it. Jaehyun died because of your co-called 'truth', so you better move on. Forget about me, and forget we met." Yuta made his way out of the grave, but he turned quickly. "I'm sorry for your loss. About Jaehyun, and your baby. Good luck, Y/N."

The first thing that came to your mind to call Jungwoo and Johnny to meet. Two of them were best buddies with Jaehyun, they had to know something. You demand answers.

"Do any of you know Yuta?"

Jungwoo and Johnny looked at each other, which was obvious for you - they do.

"Why you're asking?" Jungwoo chuckled. "I thought we were supposed to hang out and talk shit."

"I met him today. At cementary, at Jaehyun's grave to be exact." Johnny chocked on his saliva. "Why I had no clue about him?"

"What did he say?"

"Johnny, don't fuckin do it. Answer me, you two, now. I've been gaslighted for a year. Is it some joke to you? To play dumb around me?"

"Relax, it's not that deep."

"Answers."

"Yuta was working with Jaehyun for few months." Jungwoo stated as he was taking a sip of his beer. "He's japanese member of the crew. Yuta Nakamoto was working with Jaehyun on some project, extra secretive thing. We don't know what were they doing, though."

"So, what did he say?"

"Jaehyun found something that got him killed. I told y'all it wasn't an accident. I've known it was a murder. I knew."

"Y/N, you can't just believe in every word he says. We don't know him well, he migh've been lyin-"

"I believe him. Please." You rolled your eyes. "My husband wasn't some kind of a rookie, nope. He was the captain of his crew, soon to be officer. How couldn't he dodge the bullet? In the daylight? And the suspect have never been found. Sounds weird to me."

"There was an open investigation, and we were working hard-"

"Don't bullshit me, right now."

"Even if it's true, stay out of this. It's clearly something he wasn't supposed to know, and look. He's six feet under, now, sniffing the flowers from the other side." Johnny said firmly. The tone was suspicious, and you realize he was nervous. "Can we change the subject?"

Agony. You got rid of agony. In your life there's a new mission. To find the truth. You won't rest easy until you get to know what happened. Why did your husband had to die.

The lock of the attic opened. After Jaehyun's death, police came and took some of his personal stuff. You didn't give them everything, though. There must be something in his stuff.

After an hour, you didn't find much. Some rapports, evidence on minor crimes, suspects, scratches of something, to-do lists, and notes he used to make for you. As when you were about to give up, you found small piece of paper with a phone number on.

"What?" Male voice came from the other side. A bit cold, you'd say. "Who are you?"

"Hey, I am Y/N. Jung Y/N." Silence. "Jaehyun's wife."

"How did you get my phone number?"

"I found it. May I ask, who are you?"

"No, you're not going to ask me questions." Cold tone made you annoyed. "Jaehyun is dead, and here you are calling me. Why?"

"I know Jaehyun got murdered by his company. Please, I need to find the truth. I was looking for clues in his stuff, so I came across this phone number. I need help."

"I can't help you. I-"

"Please. I'll do everything."

Short silence made you believe, he's about to hang up.

"Meet me at 10. I'll send you adress. Alone." He sighed. "If you're from police, you're dead. See ya."

The adress seems sketchy as fuck, but you had to risk it. You felt like throwing up, because of the stress and everything that's about to happen. You were working as a private math teacher, not as a detective.

Area you're in, was abandomen long ago. There were only empty and destroyed buildings around, and not a sound of life around. Suddenly, you felt hands around you and on your mouth. Someone grab you, and took you in one of the building.

In front of you, were two men. One, black hair and bunny-like face, and the other one looked like a character straight from the anime.

"Are you a plug? Police? FBI? CIA? Secret Forces? SWAT?" You remember the voice, it's a guy who you've spoken to this morning. The guy with a black hair. "Answer us, now."

"No? The fuck! I told you, I'm Jaehyun's wife. I swear to God, I'm working as a private math teacher. I have no connection to police, besides my late husband."

"Taeyoung, check her ID."

They took your documents, and in fact, you wasn't lying.

"She's not lying. She's really Jaehyun's wife."

"Fuck." The other male sighed. "I told him to burn my phone number, dumb fucker. Why did you call? What do you want?"

"I want to know what happened to Jaehyun. I met Yuta today, I guess you must know him." They nodded. "I don't know if you're from Secret Forces, but you knew Jaehyun. The note wasn't in his offical case, why? Who are you?"

"I'm Kim Doyoung. I'm a hacker, and old friend of Jaehyun. We got few classes together back in college."

"And you?"

"Lee Taeyong. I'm his best friend, roommate and I used to be Jaehyun's plug."

"Jaehyun had a plug? Why? What?"

"I see you're confused." Doyoung softened. "Yuta must told you to stay out of this case, right? Why don't you listen? You need adrenaline? If yes, go to Bunjee jump. You want to get yourself killed?"

The way him, Taeyong and Yuta were so secretive made your blood boil. Also, the fact you had no idea Jaehyun knew them was even more annoying.

"If your wife got killed, wouldn't she want to know what happened? I demand answers. They can't get away with killing an innocent person."

"As if it was that easy." Taeyong sat down with a gun in his hand.

"You want answers?" You nodded. "Alright. But I don't guarante, you're going to be safe later. I can't promise that." You agreed without a word. "Jaehyun was a right man. He had his morals, and let's say, he didn't agree with few things with his boss and other assholes."

"He was in China, right?" Taeyong asked. "It all started there. During his stay there, and mission an innocent men got killed. He was chinese-korean, living with his wife and two kids. Provider of the family, and taxi driver. Jaehyun got told, he was super dangerous killer who killed around 10 korean soldiers in X Zone. The mission was easy. Get rid of the target."

"So he did. He and his people, including Jungwoo and Johnny. They had no idea, he was completly innocent guy. He was just a taxi driver, who wouldn't hurt a fly. The above wanted to get rid of him to show chinese mob, they don't care. Jaehyun got to know by accident, because he overheard his boss talking about it."

"It turned out, they killed more innocent people. He found corruption, and more evidence on illegal cases in the company. Doyoung hacked the system, and I asked the right people." Your brain was trying to process what they were saying. "There was a case of files tittled with his last name. They planned to get rid of evidence, and frame Jaehyun to become a hitman. Cruel killer, who killed innocent guys."

"What?"

"Jaehyun told them to turn themselfs in. To go to a trial court. Before he even told them, someone snitched on him. We don't know who, but they knew. The above ordered to kill him as soon as possible. I believe it must've been someone from his team. They can't be trusted, Y/N." Doyoung sighed. "Not even Jungwoo, or Johnny. We have no idea how much they know."

Your world was spinning around, and many more questions come with it. It felt as if your life got ruined in seconds. Your husband was always someone, who people looked up to. He hated discrimination, and lack of justice. He knew too much.

"But Yuta is alive."

"Jaehyun never mentioned Yuta. We're sure, they tortured him before getting on that street and shooting him. Someone was supposed to tell the truth, but Yuta can't be another one killed."

"Jungwoo and Johnny, they know?"

"They have to know." Taeyong said with a smile. "Think. They were close, if they didn't then Jaehyun wouldn't trust them. Who knows. Maybe they killed him."

There's no way. Jungwoo and Johnny were best friends with Jaehyun for years. They could never hurt him, not saying about killing him. They weren't capable, were they?

"I need to find the killer, and the evidence. I'll end what Jaehyun has started. I don't care, I have nothing to lose." You stood up, still overwhelmed by all the informations. "Even if it means, I'm going to die. Jaehyun didn't deserve to die."

"Y/N, it's danegrous. You can't put yourself into danger, because of grief and rage. Think about it. You can still get your life together-"

"No. I need to do it for him. And I need your help."

That night, you couldn't sleep. All you was thinking about was your hsuband and guys he was working with. There is no turning back now, you're going to get your revenge. No matter what. But the only thing couldn't let go. Yuta was keeping an eye on you for months, and yes, you had theory someone was following you, or stalking. Few times, you've spotted a shadow in your house. Some car passing your house three times a day. But you could swear to God, the shadow or sillhouete you've spotted was taller than Yuta. Yuta was about 5'10, while the person you saw so many times was for sure taller. Could Jaehyun sent someone else too?

After you left, Doyoung and Taeyong looked at each other sending signal.

"Y/N found us." Doyoung was gripping his phone hard, while waiting until the other person say something. "She called me earlier today. I am sure, she's going to find the killer."

"Don't let her. Keep her safe, Doyoung."

"It's too late now."

"Understood."

Taeyoung looked at his friend stressed. They nodded at each other, and went to their places waiting for next things coming.

"I'm so happy, you're moving on!" Your mother hugged you. "Are you sure about moving out part? It's your house, after all."

"Living here reminds me of Jaehyun too much. I found nice apartament in the centre of city, and I'm going to live closer to the company. Only prons."

"Jungwoo is picking you up?"

"He's already there." Your friend honked. "I gotta go. Let's go. I'm starting new chapter."

"We're proud of you." Your dad kissed your cheek. "Call us when you're in your new place. We're happy for you."

Drive to your new place was really comfortable, Jungwoo was cracking jokes all the time and he was expressing how happy he was for you.

"By the way, thank you. I really appreciate you recommended me for the company and you're driving me to my new place."

"Please, don't. It's just a pleasure to help you, Y/N. I am here for you anytime." He smiled at you. "You know, we are buddies now."

"Yes, dude."

"You sound like Mark now."

"Is it a bad thing?"

"Duh. He overuse 'dude'. Don't be like Mark."

Jungwoo wasn't right. Dude is literally Mark. Mark is dude. There's no Mark Lee without a 'dude' every few seconds. Almost like a comma.

After a month of working in Secret Forces as analyst, you were secured in your spot. No one suspected you of anything. Not many knew you were widow and Jaehyun's wife. Only the above knew, and Johnny, Jungwoo and Mark. You were lowkey about your business, and never mentioned anything harmful to you.

"We're going to hang out and drink sojuu, you're coming?" Mark asked with sparkling eyes. "Please, you always decline. Only me, Johnny, Jungwoo and Taeil. He went to the same University as you, I believe."

"Mark, I have a work to do. I need to do research, and write a raport."

"And you have a weekend for that. Just this once. We're not that bad, after all. Boys wants you to come. C'mon."

"Bet."

Mark left happy, because after 5th time asking, you agreed. By the time he was gone, you could check your other phone. You saw notification popping up on your homescreen.

dy: i need u to go and find login to y'all system dy: asap dy: don't get caught tho

Every single worker have own login, but login of people with high ranks are different each. With a sigh, you left your office and went towards the lift. You waved to few people, you got to know, and went to 14th floor. There must be the office of your boss.

There was no one in sight, so you just went in carefully. He was gettin his daily coffee on 4th floor with his friends, so he won't be there any time soon. You knew there were cameras, but Doyoung took care of that long time ago.

"Fuck. Where's the damn laptop."

As far as you know, they don't use their logins on official PC's, but have their own laptops with a base of every file possible.

Finally, you spotted black laptop on the pile of books in the corner. Looking around, you put USB cable in laptop. Thanks to that, Doyoung can hack everything from the laptop.

dy: i need 2 minutes dy: ok take the cable off, and meet me in your smoking spot behind the building

"I'm going out with boys tonight. After the work. In an hour."

"Be careful, though. Remember, we don't know how much do they know."

"They were best friends with Jaehyun. They couldn't be harmful."

"Maybe you're right, but there's no harm in being careful." He sighed. "I'll check everything, and tell you what we found. For now, be sure no one saw you."

The restaurant was really comfy, and have it's vibe. You felt as you were a kid again with your parents on Sunday's dinner. Nostalgic place.

"The owner is my uncle." Taeil laughed. "He opened the restaurant like 5 years ago? It's one of the best, I swear to God."

"Your uncle?" You were in disbelief. "The food is amazing. I love their dumplings."

"My uncle is the same person as Gordon Ramsey."

"Maybe let's not go there." Johnny cut off laughing. "You're lying."

"Ya, do you doubt me!"

"Gentlemen, stop."

The conversation went smoothly. You got to know, Taeil was your senior while you were freshman in the University.

"I remember the time we were training, and we were supposed to get all 10s with shooting, but Jungwoo missed every single one."

"Ya, really! I got 6, it's not bad."

"You're classified as blind, Woo. Don't you know?" Taeil laughed with Johnny. "He's really fit, but the guns and him aren't good couple."

"I have hidden talent with guns."

"And it stays hidden, Jungwoo." Johnny rolled his eyes. "And you Y/N? Have you ever held a gun?"

"Not really. I am clueless about all the weapons. Even knives. The only knife I've ever came across, was the one to peel the apples. Really."

"Then why did you join us? I mean, our job is almost like American CIA or FBI. I know your analyst, but why here?"

Taeil asked you question, and you froze for a minute. Jungwoo noticed your confused expression, and get you out of the awkward situation.

"Discrimination? Just because she wasn't trained like us means, she can't work with us? Ya, Moon Taeil, I thought you wasn't a jerk."

All of you were laughing, and you were thankful for him saving you.

"No! Sorry, I just-"

"I was bored. Math teacher isn't exciting, right? I found there was a need for analyst, so I applied. I need adrenaline in my life."

"Don't we all?" Mark sighed. "But our job is kinda boring. We don't do much nowadays."

"And nice. We should rest." Johnny took a sip of sojuu. "Let's drink and have a blast before coming back to that shithole in two days."

Two hours passed, and you were ready to come back home. Boys seems to have fun, and they planned to go Taeil's place to have more sojuu and watch movies.

"I really gotta go. I had fun, and I really like you, but it's getting darker." You claimed, while taking your coat on. "Bye."

They waved you goodbye, but Mark stopped you.

"Wait! Jungwoo is totally wasted, and he's asking if you could drive him home. I mean, you're the only one who wasn't drinking." He held his neck. "If no, then we can call the cab."

"No need for that." You smiled. "I'll get his drunk ass and get him to his place. Where's he?"

Jungwoo was sitting on the passenger seat, and he was white as ghost.

"Woo, are you alright?"

"I think Imma throw up." The mumble wasn't clear, and it took you a second to understand.

"Shit, wait. We're going to my place, it's closer. You look like you're about to pass out. You can stay the night."

"Can I?"

"Oh, shut up."

Taking Jungwoo into your place wasn't an easy task. He was 6ft, and his ass wouldn't hurry up, which made you go to the door for about 10 minutes.

"Here, sit down and drink some water." You passed him the glass. "Are you going to throw up?"

"I am not sure."

"Sit there, I'll take a shower. If you need to throw up, there's a bowl under the sink."

Jungwoo saluted, and you chuckled. You must admit, he was kinda cute. You slapped yourself mentally for that thought. You can't think about him in that way, after all he's your dead husband friend.

You came back to Jungwoo laying on the couch with his eyes closed, thinking he was sleeping, you was walking on your tippy toes.

"I'm not sleeping, Y/N. Can you come here?" He opened his arm. "C'mon. Please. I am so drunk, I can't. I need a hug."

"Jungwoo, I don't think-"

"Just lay down, and relax. I'm not going to touch you, c'mon."

Jungwoo made space for you. Being this close to him, made you nervous. It's been a while since you was this close to a man.

"Why aren't you sleeping, dumbass? You look like a ghost.

"Ah, really. I still have a time. You know what, I really respect you, Y/N. I admire how strong you are, and how smart you are. Really. I'm always surprised because of you."

"Jungwoo, don't sugarcoat me." You chuckled. "You're drunk."

"I mean it. I really, really mean it. I'm happy you're moving on with your life. Jaehyun was lucky to have you, you know. I've been jealous of him." You chuckled, because drunk Jungwoo was funny and he wasn't aware of his words. "Don't laugh. We all were jealous of you two."

"Woo, please. There's other couples like that. It's a past. I need to move on, and I did, to be honest. I'm not thinking about Jaehyun that much." There was a bit of truth in that. You couldn't tell others about your plan, so it was better to make them think you really moved on, but at the other hand. You missed being loved. "I think I should date again."

"Ya, that's what I'm saying!" He said confidently with a pout. "I agree. But Y/N. I really like you. We've been hanging out a lot past weeks, and I really like you. I found you pretty and I'd like to kiss you."

Before you could answer, surprised with his confession he was long asleep on his back. Your heart skipped a beat, because you had no clue someone have a crush on you. Someone like Kim Jungwoo. You knew Jaehyun would like you to date one of his friends, instead of complete stranger.

"If I ever pass away, please. Y/N date either Johnny or Jungwoo." He was caressing your cheek. "I know they would take great care of you. I trust them. If you'd date a stranger, they know to kill him, you know."

"Jaehyun don't even say that. Only person I'm going to date is you. Don't talk about your dead, you're not going to die."

"You never know. In this line of work, you gotta be ready for everything. I told them the same thing. Personally, I'd took Jungwoo. He isn't going to work the same job as long as he thought."

"Honey, you're my husband talking about dating your best friend. Let's not."

He chuckled and kissed you. Little did you know, Jaehyun was aware he didn't have much left to live.

"I like you too." You whispered, and fall asleep.

'I left to work. Sorry for the trouble! I don't even remember how did I end up at your place! Not mentioning, sleeping next to you. LOL. I was wasted as fuck. Sorry again! I made you breakfast, hope you like scrambled eggs with kimchi and toast. See ya at work! Jungwoo~'

Smile crept on your face, because it was lovely. It's been a long time since someone made you breakfast. You shook your head, and reminded yourself to not get distracted.

"I found something interesting." Doyoung said while eating cookies, Taeyoung bought. "Look."

He passed you his laptop, and there was files named after Jaehyun and they were marked as top secret. You opened them, and there were synopsis of him and his life. You were also mentioned there as his wife, but not much.

"What's interesting in there?"

"Look at the date of his death. 12th February. He was killed five days later. We have a direct evidence his death was planned."

"I knew it. Who else can open these?"

"Not many. Bosses and officers. There's many suspects, Y/N. I saw someone deleted some files, and I tried to recover them. I'm not sure if it's possible."

"Do your best, please. I am sure, Johnny and Jungwoo don't know exactly what happened with Jaehyun."

"How?"

You could tell he wasn't convinced.

"I just know. They must been suspicious of Yuta, that's why they were nervous."

"Remember, you can't be sure of anything."

"I know them longer than I do you. I can tell when something is off."

"Don't let your feelings take control of you."

"I don't."

Taeyong laughed.

"You're not as trained as we are. No one can be trusted. We're partners, we can trust each other, but them? I'm not sure."

"I shouldn't trust you, since I don't know you. But guess what. I'm doing my best, so please. Shut up." You got up. "I'm going to the company. If you have something, let me know."

As soon as you left, Doyoung called.

"Yuta, keep an eye on her in the company. Especially on Jaehyun's buddies."

"Fuck. I told you to get this idea out of her mind."

"Was I supposed to let her do it on her own, and get her killed? Jaehyun wouldn't be happy."

"She's getting too comfortable. We can't let her know everything, Doyoung. You deleted the files?"

"I did. I sent them."

"Good. Bye."

Kim Doyoung told you, he wasn't able to find the deleted files. You couldn't blame him for his failed mission, since he was doing already a lot. At the other hand, you tried asking people. Mentioning Jaehyun, but no a single soul had any idea about him, or his death.

Boys and you hang out again. This time, you got drunk. You didn't have to do much for work, since you got everything done before deadline. Jungwoo drive you home.

"Ah, Y/N. You're cute when you're drunk."

"I feel sarcasm, idiot."

"It's not." He laughed. "You look pretty. Here we are." He parked in front of your building. "Dummy."

"Kiss me then."

"What?"

"You said I'm pretty. Kiss me or you're lying."

You were way too drunk to care, or to be aware of your words.

"You're drunk-"

"Do it."

Jungwoo was looking into your eyes, the next second his hands cuped your cheeks and he was kissing you. The kiss lasted for few seconds, and it got you warmed up.

"Y/N-"

"Wanna come in?"

On your way to your place, both of you were kissing, not giving a damn about people passing you. It felt as if you two were waiting for this moment to come for the longest time ever. As you were kissing Jungwoo, you couldn't put the key in.

"Let me do it."

Next thing you remember, was the two of you undressing in your bedroom. Jungwoo didn't break the kiss, when he was getting your clothes off.

"I've been waiting for this moment for such a long time." He whined. "You really turn me the fuck on."

"Kim Jungwoo, just fuck me."

Both of you, too busy with each other, failed to notice tall silhouete standing in the dark corner of your place watching you. The man clenched his fists hard, feeling his blood boil. Jaehyun was watching his best friend fuckin his wife. He wanted to get out the shadow, and kill Jungwoo for it. He wanted to scream, but he knew he couldn't. Officialy, he's dead.

"I'll kill him." He whispered, and left as quiet as he entered.

Jung Jaehyun is very alive, and healthy.

Past days were peacful and relaxed, something you couldn't feel for a while. Jungwoo and you weren't dating yet. You wanted to take things slow, because at the back of your head, you could see Jaehyun.

Peace was broken, when Yuta paid you a visit.

"Listen, I don't care what you're doing with who, but I can't agree for you to lose your mind over someone." He sighed. "There's no one you can trust, especially Jaehyun's ex friends."

"The only person I shouldn't trust is you, Yuta. I don't know you at all, Doyoung and Taeyong don't talk about you, nor Jaehyun did. It's logical for me to trust them, not you."

Yuta felt as he was talking to a child. You were stubborn, way too much for Yuta's liking. His Japanese temper was getting real bad with you. He felt hopeless, because no matter how many times, he's telling you to stay away from Jaehyun ex co-workers, you don't listen.

"How do you know they didn't get their hands dirty with Jaehyun? What if they're involved but you don't know? You don't know them, Y/N. You have this pov of them as your husband's co-workers, not as actual people."

"Wait." You paused. "Don't you and boys know somethind I don't? Doyoung also told me to stay away from them. Why?"

"You know I don't." His body tensed up. "For some reason, as you claim, your husband didn't tell anything to them. I know, I know." He rolled his eyes. "It was dangerous, but they were friends for years, Y/N, years. Not even a word?"

Doyoung was walking down the woods, hidden from the city. Not many people visited the woods, because they weren't fameous as other one.

"You're alone?" Doyoung nodded as he entered small house. "What's up."

"You're not going to do anything with Jungwoo? He's fuckin your wife, Jaehyun. It's so painfully obvious. She likes him."

Jaehyun clenched his jaw.

"Not now. I can't just kill him out of the blue. For now, it's alright as long as he's not putting her in danger. I sent Yuta to talk to her, but she's not interested in his advice."

"Y/N is independant. I mean, she left the theraphy long ago, and her main goal is to find your killer."

"Only if she knew what really happened."

"Are you going to reveal yourself?"

"No. It's better if I'm away from her."

Finding a killer of your late husband was draining. Jungwoo didn't have a clue what you're up to. He found you looking through multiple files at night, but he never dared to ask what's that.

Taeyong tried his best at finding answers to your questions, but there were none. He felt like giving up, together with Doyoung. It was complicated to find people, who know something. It was like a never ending task.

"Jaehyun body was never found. I think I'd cry out of happines if he would be alive somehow." You admited to Doyoung, who was sipping on his coffee. "Sometimes I feel like he's still with me. His presence."

"Even after dating Jungwoo?"

"Yes. I can't explain that feeling, but he's there. His ghost, at least."

Doyoung made a mental note to inform Jaehyun to keep it lowkey, since you probably could tell something is off. Maybe Jaehyun wasn't doing great job with following you? It could ruin a lot.

"Ghosts aren't real. You miss him, so your imagination makes you feel like he's here. Simple."

"Yes, I know. Still, I'd like to hang out with him for the last time. Do you know what's last thing we did?"

"Tell us." Yuta said, and you rolled your eyes at him. "I'm just asking, I swear to God."

"We had a fight. Cliche, yes. We had a fight about him not being at home much, because of work. I even thought he was cheating on me, because none of his friends spent so much time at the company as he did." You chuckled. "Then I realized how stupid it sounds, and I apologized. The next morning we were supposed to go to our favorite cafe, but as y'all know. He vanished and got shot."

"Were you supposed to tell him about pregnancy?"

"Of course. I planned to talk with him at our favorite place, and let him know he's about to become a father."

"Life's a bitch."

"Exactly. But for you it's past. Paniful past, but past. Now you're living new life, maybe you really should give up on finding Jaehyun's killer."

And maybe Yuta was right.

"I think I should. I have no clues, and no one knows anything. I am tired. One day I will know the truth, but not now."

"Facts. You have Jungwoo, right? You're in love and-"

"I am not." You cut Doyoung off. "I like him, and he's my boyfriend, but I can't say I'm in love with him. It's far from that."

"Understood, miss."

Your apartament was empty when you come. Jungwoo would hang out with you after work, but today he had to leave to Busan with Johnny. As you were walking around, you heard noise. The first thing you did, was to run for a knife.

"I'll kill you, if you step any further." You hissed.

To your surprise, Taeyong came out of shadow. He was wearing all black, and had a sad smile on his face.

"Easy. I'm not here to kill you, Y/N. I'm leaving Korea tonight." He got the knife out of your hand, and put it down on the counter. "I'm here to tell you what I know."

"What's going on? Did something happened? Someone's after you?"

"Not yet." He sighed. "I got the informations from secret documents, that Doyoung blocked. I don't know why, probably for you to feel safer. I recovered them, and I found something disturbing. The messages from a week ago. The man who killed Jaehyun is about to kill you."

Your vision became blurry, and you felt your throat tightening, making it hard to breathe.

"Do you know who sent them?"

"I don't. They were between two people, they're anonymous. No one can know, but one of them is going to try to kill you anytime soon. Probably this week. Please, stay safe. Be ready for anything, buy a gun, whatever. You can't trust no one, Y/N. I gotta go. It'd be better for you to have security or don't leave your place at night. Don't stay alone, okay?"

"Taeyong, why-"

"I have to, Y/N. I could be in trouble for warning you, plus I don't want Doyoung to get hurt. I'll get in touch as soon as possible, but for now." He turned around. "Lock the door, and find a weapon."

You did as Taeyong said. No one knew about the plan of killing you. No one can be trusted, especially after what Taeyong told you. Not even Jungwoo knew, besides the fact he was sleeping next to you every night. He was keeping you close, but it wasn't enough. You felt scared.

Past days, you didn't notice anyone following you. Mark, and Taeil would drop you off from work since you told them your car is gettin repaired, even though it wasn't true. Yuta and Doyoung didn't sense your odd behaviour. They thought you have tough days with work, since you told them you're giving up at finding Jaehyun's killer. Well, seems like he found you.

"Y/N, dinner's ready." Jungwoo smiled at you warmly. "I made your favorite, and bought wine on my way home. Is that fine?"

"Jungwoo, you didn't have to do all of this. I am thankfull, I appreciate that. You're the best."

"Today is special day. I want us to have the best dinner, and most magical time ever."

"Why?" You chuckled surprised. "Did something happend?"

"No reason, just 7th sense."

Odd. Jungwoo was really happy today, as if something happened. You thought maybe it was because of a promotion, since he was about to level up at the Secret Forces.

"Oh, I think someone is calling me." Doyoung's name popped up on your screen, but Jungwoo was quick to take your phone out of your hands. "Jungwoo."

"Please. Tonight is about us, not about your friends. It's probably not that important anywas. Can we move on?"

Jungwoo was right. Doyoung was calling you pretty often, and you had no idea why. Sometimes he was asking about you, or sometimes he was bragging about some bullshit you had no interest in.

As you were sitting on your bed, you felt kind of dizzy. Your head was spinning, and Jungwoo's voice was hard to hear. You tried to stand up, but you couldn't.

"Jungwoo, what's going on?"

"What do you mean? Nothing."

"I feel-"

You got cut off by sudden banging on the door. Before you process what happened, there was a tall man in your bedroom. Both you and Jungwoo couldn't believe your own eyes.

"Ya, really." Jungwoo hissed. "You're fuckin kidding me, right."

"You wish, motherfucker." Jaehyun's voice made you weak. He was there. Alive. "Leave her, the fuck, alone."

"I thought I killed you, didn't I?" Jungwoo was cocky, and you were shocked. Kim Jungwoo? Your cute Kim Jungwoo, who doesn't even know how to hold a gun was Jaehyun's killer? And Jaehyun's alive? "You're tough cookie, Jaehyun."

"It's not that easy to get rid of me. Now, leave my wife alone and step back before I'll slit your throat open."

"Wow, easy there, superman. I thought you were dead, but turnes out I missed? Fuck. I'll try better now."

"What is going on?" You asked still dizzy. "Jaehyun, you're alive. What happened? Please, tell me." Your eyes got wattery.

"Y/N, I need you to leave the bedroom. Leave the place, and call Doyoung and Yuta. Now."

"Nope, please."

Before you could do anything else, Jungwoo was coming at you with a knife, but Jaehyun pushed you away. You were on all four, creeping out of the bedroom. Seems like Jungwoo gave something in your drink or food. You lost balance, and you were laying down on the floor in the kitchen. Only banging, and grunts were heard from your bedroom. You were losing conciousness, while trying hard to not and to hear what's going on.

"Your wife is good in bed, huh. You have no clue how satisfied I was, knowing I was fuckin what belonged to you, Jaehyun." Jungwoo spitted blood out of his mouth. "I felt glory."

"You sick fucker." He punched his enemy in the face. "Don't mention my wife again. You fucked up our life. I thought you were my best friend. You're a traitor, Jungwoo and you'll pay for it."

"I don't think anyone would believe you." Jungwoo smirked.

"Doyoung have everything on you. Yuta too. They did nothing, because you picked to get close to Y/N. She couldn't know what happened. Not then."

"I knew I should've killed her sooner."

Without any word, Jaehyun got his gun and shot Jungwoo in his head. Bullet went through his brain, making a mess in your bedroom. Jungwoo's liveless body dropped on the floor, on the pool of blood.

You opened your eyes, and closed them right after. It was too light for you, and it was painful. You tried the second time, and you could feel shift on the surface you were on.

"Y/N? Oh, thank God you woke up." Jaehyun took your hand in his, and you felt overwhelmed with emotions. Your husband. Your true love was alive. "I am so sorry for everything, darling. I fucked up, but I am here again. This time forever."

"You're alive. Why did you do it to me? Why did you leave me and didn't come back?" You were crying, while Jaehyun was holding his tears in. "I was waiting for you to come back. Deep down I wasn't done with the fact you're dead. You have no idea what you put me through."

"I did it all to keep you safe. I couldn't risk your life, because of me, Y/N. I couldn't lose you, that's why. I was keeping an eye on you from afar. Doyoung, Taeyong and Yuta helped me. They tried to keep you away from Jungwoo."

"Jungwoo." You whispered. "Is he dead?" He nodded. "You killed him."

"I mean, he tried to kill me first. He was involved in case with taxi driver, and corruption. He was money laundering with our boss, and got big check for 'killing' me. Thankfully, he missed my heart by inches. Doyoung helped me."

"You could've told me. At least warn me. I missed you so much for past year. I thought I'm going to die, because of your loss. Do you have any idea how it is?"

"I don't and I'm sorry. I know your life was turned upside down, but I love you. I always been and I always will. Now, I'll gotta do my best for world to see what happened. I have proof of every illegal thing they've done."

You nodded, and tried to stop sobbing.

"Why didn't you kill Jungwoo back then?"

"Because they said, they're watching you. Before they tried to kill me, they blackmailed me. They had soldiers stalking you, and told me if something goes wrong, you're dead. Then everything is history. Listen, I love you too much. I had to do it for us." He kissed your hand. "I am sorry about pregnancy, I had no idea you were pregnant. Maybe if I knew, I'd stop and-"

"Jaehyun, no." You cut him off mid sentence. "No. It's not our fault. Shit happenes. I got over it a year ago. It's our past. Now I understand your motives. I am not mad anymore, but please. Let's move out from here, and let's start new life somewhere else."

"I've always wanted to live in Switzerland."

"Sounds great."

Jaehyun chuckled, and leant in to kiss you. After all the dark times, you could kiss your lover. Jaehyun was finally with you. Maybe there's still a chance for better days.

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