#can you do it again next week please i am very worried | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fayes-fics · 1 year

Text

(Be)Longing

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Mutual rescue, mutual jealousy, longing and belonging.

Warnings: None, really. Angst, jealousy, fluff. Shyness and insecurities. Minor character injuries. Time jumps.

Word Count: 5.2k

Authors Note: This is an anon request fill here (request: Benedict x shy!insecure reader, with some angst, jealousy fluff, and all the good stuff. Happy ending, of course.). Sorry it took so long to get to this Nonny; I have no idea if this is what you wanted, and I'm really not sure about it, but I hope you enjoy <3

I: Saved

“Unhand her at once!”

The smooth, confident, older voice rings out across the village green, and suddenly the pack of nasty bullies who have your arms in a grip seem to melt away from around you.

You don’t even think to pause and thank the person who broke up the mob. No, your fight-or-flight response is in full-on flight mode. The minute your arms are released, and you see the break in the circle, you run. Run as fast as your legs will carry you. Bolting down the road and into the safety of the churchyard near your house. You do not want to run home upset and worry your mother, so you do the next best thing, the thing you are becoming increasingly good at, hiding. You climb a crabapple tree. And then you let the tears flow—just flooding down your cheeks.

You hate this new village your parents have moved you to. Your father, a doctor, had been offered the position as village physician, and now here you are, moved from Surrey to Kent, but it might as well be the other side of the world. You miss your friends. You miss your old village. You are not the most outgoing of people, and the upheaval in your life has been immense. You yearn to be back in your old, familiar, comfortable home.

You are sniffling, taking deep breaths, angrily wiping tears, and preparing to face your family when he appears.

“Are you alright?”

You startle. Beneath you, squinting up into the tree, is the owner of the voice who rescued you. Seeing him now, you feel an odd warmth in your ribs. He looks older, maybe fifteen, if you had to guess. He seems benign with a calm face, and his expression is one of sympathy and concern.

“Yes,” you squeak quietly.

“It is safe for you to come down,” he says gently, “should you wish.”

“Are they gone?” you query, wishing you could hide the tremble in your voice.

“They will not bother you again; I can assure you,” he states with absolute certainty.

Your eyes go wide, “What did you do? I don't want to make it worse for my brother,” you fret.

“I told them if they mess with you again, they will have the Bridgerton brothers to contend with,” he nods, with an air that suggests the name is of some local import.

“Is that you?” you ask timidly, not wanting to get down from the tree just yet.

He chuckles. “You must be new here?”

“Yes… we just moved here two weeks ago. Those boys have been tormenting my brother since his first day at school. They appear to have chosen me to pick on as he is not around,” you frown, dusting a twig from your skirt.

“Well, that ends now. Now, do you need help down?” he asks.

“No,” you sniffle, “I am capable.”

“I wouldn't doubt it,” he nods politely and steps aside to allow you space to jump down.

With a quick swing, you do so, landing neatly on your little brown boots. You unfurl to your full standing height, but even then, you have to crane your neck to look up at him.

“Very impressive,” he smiles warmly. “I am Benedict. Benedict Bridgerton. Welcome to Kent.” he thrusts out a hand to shake and, bemused at the formality, you take it and shake as if a businessman, not a ten-year-old girl.

“Thank you, Benedict. I am y/n y/l/n. My father is the new physician,” you gesture vaguely over the church wall towards your home next to the rectory.

“Ahhh,” he nods in understanding.

“And thank you,” you curtsy.

“Whatever for?” he frowns.

“For rescuing me,” you clarify.

“Oh please, that was nothing,” he waves dismissively. “I cannot abide bullies. Or any injustice really,” his eyes appear briefly unfixed, and he looks thoughtful, as if what he said just occurred to him as truth. Then he shakes his head and brings his attention back to you. “You are alright, though, correct? Able to get home?”

“Yes,” you confirm shyly.

“Then I shall be on my way” he tips an imaginary cap at you that makes you giggle, and he smiles goofily before turning away and walking out of the churchyard.

A little part of your heart yearns to follow him, the boy with the hazy, kind eyes and the pleasing smile, who just made your transition into life in the area much more bearable.

You and your brother are never bothered by that gang of boys again.

II: Envy

“Y/n, this is Miss Clarissa Worthing.”

Benedict introduces you to the willowy blonde whose hand is looped through the crook of his arm.

“Clarissa, this is Miss y/n y/l/n. She will beat half of my family at Pall Mall once you can coax her out of her shell,” he teases delicately with a friendly glint in his eye that makes your heart flutter against your ribcage.

Clarissa nods in cool acknowledgement, then cranes her neck to whisper something, her lips brushing his earlobe, her regard for you already gone. You curtsy politely, smile weakly and scurry away, feeling clumsy and out of place, unsure of what else to say to this swan-like beauty.

It's the summer after your fifteenth birthday, and he is back from his second year of university. It doesn't take much to deduce that this is the lady he is currently courting, accompanying him as she is to a garden party at Aubrey Hall. Jealousy clings to your skin like an invisible oily substance and taints your every thought.

Ever since that fateful day when he chased away your bullies, you have carried a torch for Benedict. The year after that incident, you sadly have to attend his father's funeral. Your own father unable to save the Viscount’s life. The forlornness on Benedict’s face as he stood there in the chilly church made your chest ache. You didn’t fully understand why at the time, but your impulse was to go up and wordlessly hold his hand. He looked so utterly unmoored and sad. You didn't, of course; you would never be so bold, but the impulse was so strong, a tingle on your palm that needed to touch him. It was all you could think about for days.

Over the intervening years, your soft spot for him grew with every encounter, the childish admiration morphing into something stronger, a deep-rooted longing. He always seemed to be the one who cared the most—about his siblings, his mum, and even the problems of the wider world. And as your body started to change and you began to feel differently about boys, your feelings for him had another layer of confusing complexity. His was the first face that popped into your head when your friends giggled about boys and talked of marriage.

Even now, it seems ridiculous to entertain that he would ever pursue you… you are stuck in small village life, the daughter of a doctor, not from a noble family, and he is off in the world, experiencing things you have no notion of. And yet he is the only man you have ever met who intrigues you that way. The idea of marriage not being entirely abhorrent, provided it is to him.

And so you just watch—the perpetual wallflower. Watch as Benedict and Clarissa make the circuit of the party. Effortlessly chatting among various members of the Ton, looking like the picture-perfect young couple.

“Makes you sick, doesn't it?” Eloise’s dry tone pops over your shoulder.

You smile at Benedict's little sister, just a couple of years younger than you and a kindred spirit at these events, mostly wanting nothing to do with them.

“She is very beautiful,” you offer politely, sipping your lemonade.

“She steals,” Eloise states plainly, making you splutter your drink all over your face and dress, the little immediate crowd of attention it draws to you mortifying. Luckily Benefict is far enough away and otherwise engaged that he does not see it. You are not sure you could live that down.

“That's a scandalous thing to say,” you hiss softly as you blush under the attention of a few strangers and furtively clean yourself with a serviette as best you can.

“Tell that to mother’s silk gloves,” Eloise volleys back, her disgust evident. Apparently oblivious to your embarrassing predicament or perhaps just uncaring of what others think. “She will be gone before the weekend is out, mark my words.”

You don't doubt it, knowing how spirited Eloise is. And how well she has her brother's ear. You know he will instinctively trust what she says as truth. As she marches up to grab his arm and pull him away, mostly, you wish you had more of her bravado, her fearlessness. While you agree with her outlook on many things, you are not built of the mettle she is—not one who draws attention. Still, you watch with a twisted, guilty, but victorious smile as Eloise pulls Benedict aside and has words with him.

You never hear of Miss Clarissa Worthing again.

III: Jealousy

“Lord Boswell would be a wonderful match, my dear,” your mother smiles encouragingly, handing you a slice of lemon drizzle cake.

You can't hide the curl of your lip at the mere thought.

It's the morning after the first ball of the season, just after your twentieth birthday, and you are in the London townhouse your parents have rented for the season, awaiting any suitors to call. Less than three days into your first season, you want the merry-go-round to stop. A dizzying whirl of social engagements you feel unequipped to deal with, wanting nothing more than to be back in Kent, stealing into the grounds of Aubrey Hall with a good book. Perhaps even spend time with Benedict.

Just the very thought of him causes a flare in your belly. Since his return from his studies in Cambridge, he has seemingly moved to Aubrey Hall full-time, spending his days painting the Kentish countryside with hopes of establishing himself as an artist. You have spent more time together in the last year or so than ever before, often finding yourself reading quietly in the shade with Eloise as he paints nearby, his company always somehow a balm as much as a thrill. And it feels as if there has been a subtle shift in how he regards you, giving you the unbearable lightness of hope. Perhaps he sees you in a different light now that you have come of age, no longer the child you were. There have been some moments where he has looked at you and felt it, like a weight on your skin; even as you doubt many other things about yourself, you don't doubt there is something there—a most wondrous and perplexing development.

Your butler bustles in and announces something that makes your heart leap into your throat.

“Mr Benedict Bridgerton has arrived.”

Your mother's eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, giving you a sideways glance. A Bridgerton, even if not the Viscount, would be more than sufficient in her eyes. Especially one known so well to your family.

“To call on Miss y/l/n?” your mother asks, excitement evident in the breathy question.

“Oh no, ma’am, apologies. To see your husband. His brother, the Viscount, has dispatched him here to talk about some business in Kent,” your butler explains, somewhat apologetic as he realises the misconstrued intent.

Your mother’s disappointed face is only a match for your roiling stomach.

Your father folds his newspaper and jumps up. “I shall meet with him in my study, Jenkins. Please show him there,” and with a nod to you both, he leaves.

It has been just two days since your presentation to the Queen. That had been a waking nightmare. Parading down a long hallway at the Palace to be presented to her majesty filled you with utter dread. All eyes upon you, your every move and inch of appearance judged, and you are certain you were found lacking. Your status is unknown in the Ton; your parents pushing you into the season, hoping for an advantageous match. But you feel they could tell from one look where you belonged—almost invisible, on the periphery, a wallflower. Quiet, reserved, bookish, watching more than participating.

“Lord Boswell is here,” your butler reenters the room moments later.

Your stomach clenches. Your mother can barely contain her glee. You are so confused; you barely spoke two words to the man as you danced the previous night. Your conversation skills were utterly lacking, and he seemingly could not find an engaging topic to broach. You were keen for the music to end so you could return to standing and observing. You cannot believe that awkward interaction would be enough to propel the man to call on you, having said so little to each other just a few hours earlier. And yet here he is, a bunch of flowers in hand and a slightly vacant smile. The fleeting thought of marrying such a dull person makes you mildly nauseated.

Your mother hurries to the other side of the parlour and leaves you to converse, wearing a happy, hopeful expression that you hate to dash. And so you stumble the best you can through small talk. He talks of the weather, his property, and his interests but never asks anything about you—as if he is a candidate for a job you are interviewing for. In some ways, that is perhaps accurate, but part of you yearns for him to show interest in you, not just talk incessantly of himself.

Just as you give up hope of escaping anytime soon, you startle as he lays a hand on yours on the sofa between you. You don't even hear what he is saying anymore, just staring at where his glove covers yours, not liking the sensation, wanting to claw yourself away and withdraw.

Motion in the doorway makes you look up; Benedict is with your father. And suddenly, your heart is racing. Benedict looks taken aback; something sour in his expression you have never seen before makes you want to run to him and ask what is wrong. But you don't. You do the polite, reserved thing and smile.

“Mrs y/l/n, Lord Boswell,” he greets politely. “Miss y/l/n,” he adds, and you could swear he uses a different, lower register. Something inside you turns pulpy and ripe, blossoming just for him.

Before you know it, he has taken a seat on the sofa facing yours, shooting you the tiniest of winks that could be an eye twitch, but you know him better than that—seeing the sparkle of mischief in his eye. Your parents seem to exchange nonplussed glances, uncertain why he has chosen to stay.

“Boswell,” Benedict begins, shooting the man his most impervious glance. “What of your qualities make you an ideal suitor for Miss y/l/n here?” he questions.

Boswell splutters and seems taken aback, clearly not expecting such an interrogation, especially from a man who isn't your father or brother. Benedict’s eyes are back on you as the man stumbles through an inadequate and entirely uninteresting response that you do not even listen to. Your whole focus is on Benedict, feeling unable to breathe.

“Hmmm,” Benedict hums as he ends, “and what have you to say about Miss y/l/n’s interests? Are they perhaps complimentary to yours?”

“I… I did not think to ask,” Boswell falters, his cheeks reddening at the faux pas.

Benedict looks almost disgusted.

“You claim to be interested in providing your suit but ask nothing of what makes her the wonderful person she is?” he scolds, and your mouth opens into a little O of surprise. “Have you not asked her about her excellent marksmanship? How she can shoot an archery target better than anyone else within ten miles of Aubrey Hall? Have you not asked after her artistic skills? You see that cushion you sit next to? That is the work of her fair hand.”

You barely register as Boswell twists to look at the item and then at you; you have eyes for no one but Benedict as he continues, his voice loud and clear even over the sound of your heart pounding hard in your ears.

“Have you asked her about her love for literature and poetry? How she will correct you that it was, in fact, Guildenstern, not Rosencrantz, who enters first in the first folio version of Hamlet?”

You duck your head and blush. That is precisely what you did to him last year, surprising even yourself with your boldness. And he remembers.

He continues. “Have you asked about her love of animals? Perhaps you need to hear the tale of Mr Whiskers and how she was able to nurse the beloved cat of my sister Hyacinth back to health. You have not asked her of any such things?!?” his tone incredulous.

Even from the corner of your eye, you can tell that your parents’ faces are as shocked as Boswell’s. And suddenly, you recognise this as a Benedict Bridgerton you have seen before. It’s the one that comes out when defending those he loves against injustice or an unworthy opponent—the staunch guardian.

“If you cannot find it in yourself to show such interest, I would hope she will entertain better suitors,” Benedict sniffs dismissively. “As a long-term friend, I cannot in all good conscience allow this young woman to be pursued by anyone unworthy of her,” he concludes cuttingly, his nostrils flare, and his lip curls just a fraction as his eyes flit to where Boswell’s hand still rests upon yours.

Even as you struggle through your jumble of thoughts about everything he has said, one question so singular strikes you. Is this is Benedict….. jealous?? Jealous of your suitor? Finding ways to cut into him with his precise knowledge about you? The thought seems so fanciful that you want to dismiss it, but the sliver of possibility it offers is exhilarating. Just the chance of it being true has you utterly undone.

You barely even listen as your father jumps up and, with some belated sense of defence, agrees with Mr Bridgerton and asks Boswell if perhaps he should take his leave and return another day when he has thought of more engaging things to ask of you. Every fibre of your being yearns to talk to Benedict somewhere private, but he gives excuses to leave as quickly as your chastised suitor is dispatched.

Boswell never darkens your door again.

IV: Rescue

“Penny, for your thoughts,” Eloise smirks as she catches you staring into space on the terrace. Your cheeks blush, and you do not admit to where your thoughts had wandered—to her older brother.

“Will you come with me for a walk?” you ask, feeling the need to get away before you cross paths with the man who has occupied your thoughts more often than not of late.

It’s the week of the midsummer Hearts & Flowers ball at Aubrey Hall, and you are glad to have escaped the hubbub of the London scene and to be back in Kent for a few days' respite.

“No, I would prefer the company of Mary Shelley this afternoon,” she states airily, waving a book she holds.

So you set off alone, walking the grounds you now know so well. You are half an hour into your stroll, admiring the wildflowers along the eastern fringes of the grounds, not far from the village, when you see him approaching in the distance.

Benedict is riding his trusty horse and looks so majestic your chest constricts. Clothed in just a billowing white shirt and beige britches, you have rarely seen him look so informal. Or so very, very attractive. Your palms feel sweaty, and something stirs deep inside your body as you slink slightly into the treeline, hoping to remain unseen. A chance to merely observe this beautiful man, even knowing it is wrong to do so. To spy on him as such. Just as he draws close enough that you can see the flex of his leg muscles under the material, which causes all sorts of sensations in your body, a startled deer darts across the path and spooks his horse.

Time seems to slow as you watch his horse rear up and make the most terrible whinny of fear.

And then your heart is in your throat as you watch horrified as Benedict loses his grip on the reins in surprise and is thrown violently backwards to the ground.

Bile rises in your throat as you see how his body hits the dirt path, unable to brace for impact. The air fills with a blood-curdling scream that you belatedly realise is your own, and before you know it, you are sprinting. Sprinting towards him. Your whole focus narrows to his body splayed on the ground, worryingly still, as his horse bolts away. Heart pumping wildly and adrenaline coursing through your veins, you pull up to him and skid to your knees.

He is still conscious but barely. Moaning slightly.

“Do not move!” You bark, and even in his woozy state, he appears taken aback by your ferocity. “I mean it, Benedict!” you bite out as he attempts to move his arm.

He seems to mumble a noise of ascent as you try your best to assess any injuries, having learned some things from observing your father over the years, but you realise he needs proper medical attention. Where you are on the grounds, it’s closer to your home than Aubrey Hall.

“I am going to get my father,” you explain as calmly as you can, “for the love of God, Benedict, do NOT attempt to move until he gets here.”

A wan smile spreads across his face even as he winces in pain. “Hmm, fine. I promise to stay still,” he sighs, “....prefer to do it for the love of you…,” he mutters slurringly before he appears to pass out.

Knowing he has likely struck his head, you try your darndest to put what he said out of your mind. A head injury would be the only way to explain such a comment, even as you are praying he doesn't have one.

Heart still beating out of control, and not knowing what possesses you, you lean over and press the quickest shyest of kisses onto his lips—pulling back a few inches before he can even acknowledge it happened.

“Don’t you dare go anywhere on me, Benedict Bridgerton,” you whisper fiercely, just in time to see his eyes pop open, hazy and clouded with something you have never seen before. It’s not the pain he is in, though. And it’s not confusion, amusement or even irritation. It’s something else, so blisteringly intense your legs want to turn to jelly.

“I won’t, I promise,” he attests, his tone rough, ragged.

There are a couple of seconds where all you do is stare wildly at each other, and then, with a reassuring squeeze of his hand, you take off running. You have never run so far and so fast in your life; fear makes your muscles work harder than they ever have before. It’s probably only a few minutes, but it feels like a lifetime.

Your parents almost burst out of their skins in shock as you barrel into the house, panting wildly, wordlessly grabbing your father's medicine bag, and he reflexively springs into action.

You run to the stables and hurriedly hook up the long cart he uses when he needs to transport patients, and the look he shoots you is filled with concern.

“Who is it?” he asks as you climb aboard and direct him.

“Benedict,” you tremble, and there is a world of understanding in your father's eyes as he cracks the whip, and the horse jolts faster.

Perhaps your adoration is less concealed than you like to believe, but at this moment, you only care about getting him the help he needs. You are grateful your father doesn’t ask questions as you speed along.

And it becomes a blur as you reach the site, grateful Benedict laid still as you requested. Your father examines him and fires questions that are answered lucidly, tending to some immediate wounds and bandaging in places. Before you know it, you are helping your father with a canvas stretcher and insisting on sitting with Benedict in the back of the cart as your father takes the patient back to Aubrey Hall.

Never addressing the fact that you grip each other's hands so tight that both of your knuckles go white.

V: Belonging

“You can come in.”

Benedict’s voice calls out, bemused as you vacillate in the doorway, not realising that he can see you in a mirror reflection.

So at his invitation, you blush and scuttle into his room. Awkward, unsure what to do after your bold, daring, downright impertinent behaviour when he sustained his injuries. Part of you is hopeful he does not remember it.

It’s been two days, and he has made excellent progress under your father's watchful eye. The minute your father had pulled up at the house, you dropped your hold on his hand. And as word spread, it was a frenzy of activity that you found yourself superfluous to. The last you had seen was Benedict being carried inside for a more thorough examination.

Luckily, it turns out he has no lasting damage; his head was uninjured beyond a mild concussion. He is bruised all over, likely has some cracked ribs and has a sprained wrist, but he will be fine after some rest.

“H.. how are you?” your ask quietly, stilted, fiddling with your dress nervously.

“Much better,” his tone soft, “only because of you.”

You look up and meet his gentle gaze. “I merely did what anyone would have done,” you demure.

“Nonsense,” he counters, “you ordered me to stay still and await the doctor. If you weren’t there, I likely would have done myself additional injury being stubborn,” he points out dryly.

You don’t know what to say in response, so you change tack. “Is your horse alright?”

“Yes. Colin found him wandering around the wildflower meadow, munching on all manner of grasses. Never happier, completely uninjured,” he assures.

You nod, glad to hear the news. Then you allow the room to lapse into silence, unsure how to commence your profuse apology.

“I am very sor….”

He stops you with a bandaged hand held up.

“If you even begin to apologise for saving me, well then I shall be most vexed,” he chides, but there is no heat there, a lopsided grin tugging at his handsome features. “Besides, the more pertinent point of discussion is the fearless woman you can be when needed. The person you are becoming, when you allow yourself to, is quite something,” you bow your head as your cheeks heat at his praise. “I would have injured myself months before now had I known I would meet the creature who sits behind that cloud of shyness. Just look at what you did, taking change so very effectively,” he flatters then there is a pause. “Hell, even being brave enough to kiss me.”

Your head shoots up, and your mouth falls open.

“Oh yes,” he chuckles, “don’t think I forgot that part,” His voice has lowered to a pitch that buzzes right through your being.

“I… I was worried I… I was going to lose you,” you stutter, “and I-I’m sorry that was terrible of me to take liberties like that. Please, please forgive me?” you beseech.

“It was not in any sense of the word terrible,” he disputes, “the exact opposite. There is nothing to forgive. But there is one way you can make it up to me…?” he hedges.

“Anything, please,” you beg, so hopeful of absolution.

He holds out his hands and gestures for you to perch on the bed beside him. Almost without thought, you do so, even as you feel your pulse speeding up. You have rarely been this close, and now you are transfixed by all the tiny flecks of colour in his iris and the hints of stubble around his jaw.

“Kiss me again,” he requests; a finger trails lightly over the back of your hand. “But properly this time. Give me a chance to kiss you back.”

You just gawp at him in utter shock, heart pounding again, just like it was that day. You don't move away. You can't. Rooted to the spot. Unable to stop staring at his plush bottom lip.

“You cannot mean it…” you stutter when you finally find your tongue, disbelieving.

“Does this seem like I do not mean it?” he argues ardently, and before you know it, he is sitting up and leaning in.

And then warm lips touch yours, and fireworks explode inside your chest.

You feel like you are drowning in the very best way as your lips move together gently. Everything about the moment is sweet and light, but promising more, something tart that makes you want to climb atop him and crush yourself against him. Just as you feel the instinct to open your mouth to him, he pulls back, looking lost and found all at once.

“I need you to know something,” he begins, grabbing both your hands and placing them between his. “It pains me to see you ever doubting yourself or if you belong. You belong. Everywhere you go. You have so much to give to the world,” he states passionately.

“I… “ you falter, wanting to believe him, the version of you he sees.

“You do. Hell, you give me a reason to get up every day. To try. To be better. I would not be the artist I am now were it not for your words of encouragement as I painted all those afternoons.”

You are dumbstruck. You honestly didn't believe he was taking on board what you said. Mostly just encouraging him to follow his instincts when he seemed to doubt them.

“And now it’s time someone did the same for you. Be the encouragement you need. You deserve everything, y/n. And it would be my greatest honour to try to give it to you?” he adds, a gently loving smile lighting up his face.

Your heart sings as you realise this is the declaration you have been waiting half of your life to hear. Before you can stop yourself, you launch yourself at him, this time being the one to demand a kiss that he happily obliges.

“I have a question,” you state as your lips part, your boldness growing with every moment. “Mr Bridgerton, were you jealous when I had a suitor?” you tease, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

He chuckles and nuzzles your cheek. “My god, you have no idea.” You cant help the victorious giggle, basking in the fizz in your veins.

“I suppose it was payback for Ms Worthing. She of the ironic name. She was never worthy of you,” you state passionately.

He laughs with a headshake. “Perhaps it is our ability to rescue each other that makes us so best suited,” he opines. “I do believe we may belong together,” he adds.

And you couldn't agree more.

In fact, you are never alone again from that day on.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton angst #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton angst #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #1k notes #2k notes

3K notes · View notes

lynnbanks · 4 months

Text

Luke was too rough

Her hands grip the sheets beside her desperately looking for an anchor to earth. Luke has her legs spread as far as they can to fit himself between them trusting hard and deep “Feel that baby?” he asked as he pushed on her lower stomach causing her head to roll back as well as her eyes “That is me mh fucking you so deep.'' They haven't seen each other in a week with him going to see his friends and y/n visiting her family and it has only made everything more intense and rough just like it always is when they are away from each other.

Until Luke thrusts a too-deep hitting her cervix “Luke stop stop stop!” she squeals out pushing on his lower stomach to get him to stop before turning over onto her stomach with her knees to her chest “What happened baby did I hurt you?” Luke is panicked. It all happened so fast y/n couldn't do anything but nod her head face still on the mattress.

“I'm so sorry, how can I make it better?” she shook her head not being able to talk yet, and grabbed his hand. She sat there for 5 minutes before she could talk without it hurting. Luke was getting really worried “Do we need to go to the hospital?” trying to catch her breath “Just- went too deep Lu that's all I'm okay,” she said gently turning on her back to look at him

“It's not ok I hurt you I'm so sorry.” he sounded mad like he found out some guys pushed you or something but the anger was directed at himself “I'm ok now Luke it's fine.” he shook his head before pulling on some sweats and walking into the bathroom for a rag to clean her up.

“Luke.” he doesn't look at her just continues to clean between her legs so she grabs his wrist stopping him “Look at me Luke.” he does and she sees the look of guilt on his face “I'm okay You have always been big we just got carried away you don't need to worry about me.” he lets out a deep breath “I am worried about you and I feel like a piece of shit for hurting you It won't happen again.”

He said the last part more to himself to y/n “I want you to see a doctor just to make sure everything is okay.” y/n pulled him to lay next to her so she could cuddle up to him “ I will call them tomorrow please don't beat yourself up about this Luke.” he drew patterns on her back staring into space “ I won't I promise.” and he was lying through his teeth.

The next day y/n woke up very sore with some lower back pain and had breakfast in bed from her still very guilty boyfriend. After breakfast, she gave her ob a call just to see what she had to say. After her call, Luke hounded her about everything she was told: “She said that it happens to women everywhere all the time and to not do any sexual activities until it heals.” Luke looked happy enough with those answers and she thought they would move past this whole ordeal.

She was wrong, it had been two weeks since they last had sex and Luke hadn't so much as cuddled with her for more than five minutes at a time he barely touched her, and every time they kissed she initiated it. When she sat on his lap to watch a movie with him she could feel him tense up “Luke you know you can touch me right?” He looked at her like she was crazy. “Of course I know I can touch You just pulled me from my train of thought is all.”

They were about 30 minutes in when Y/n started kissing his neck she started small and worked her way up getting more and more confident especially when he let a groan slip “Baby we are getting to the good part.” y/n didn't stop her kisses just turned his head to plant one on his lips he tense before giving in and kissing her back. It got pretty heated and y/n moved to be sitting straight up on his lap and tugging at the bottom of his shirt.

That pulled him from his love-drunk daise “Stop trying to get undressed we aren't having sex.” he said it so straightforwardly that it took her by surprise. “Um, right, sorry, I thought we had something going there that is my fault for assuming that boyfriends and girlfriends have sex or can stand to be around each other at all,” she said with tears in her eyes before getting up to go to their room “y/n wait. I didn't mean it like that." She ignored him and ran up the stairs. She wasn't normally this emotional but then again Luke had never denied her of anything.

Luke had no idea what to do of course he wanted to have sex that wasn't the issue he just couldn't do it if it was going to hurt you and he promised he would never do that. After letting her cool off for a while he knocked on their door before letting himself in. “ go away” she had been crying and that broke his heart “ I just want to talk about it. I love you and I don't want to see you cry.” y/n sat up and looked at his dead in the eyes “ then leave.” and flopping back down on the bed.

She knew she was being childish but she was upset and pent-up “Just listen to what I have to say please. when I saw you in pain knowing that I caused it I didn't know what to do with myself and I never wanted to cause you pain ever again. I'm sorry I was scared and upset that I hurt you and I hurt you again by not giving you the attention you deserve.” y/n sat up and pulled him into a hug “ I'm sorry if I made you feel guilty. It's just that we already have so little time to be together during the session I got into my head and we both work well with clear communication so we should stick to that next time we are feeling some type of way.”

“ I completely agree and just so you know whenever you are ready to finish what we started downstairs I am totally up for that.” y/n tackled him to the bed before he could say anything else

#luke hughes #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you

300 notes · View notes

dinogoofymutated · 3 months

Text

Nightcrawler/GN! reader - part 1 - part 2 - part 3 It's finally here!! I didn't finish it in one chapter like I wanted to but I'm just glad to have something finished lol. Please be cautious while reading however!! read the tws please!! Sorry if it seems a bit rushed. TWs: circus fire, depictions of violence, depictions of animal cruelty/animal death mentioned. Drugging/sedatives (poor kurt), panic, people are awful, I made stephan an asshole sorry if it's OOC. Margali Szardos the queen u are. Hurt/no comfort this chapter. next chapter will be fluffy and sweet I promise.

You never really got that reunion with Kurt that he had promised.

With each week that passed by, you saw him less and less. Each meeting was just simple greetings and pleasantries, and then apologies as he was ushered off by his brother, or the choreographer, or the ringleader himself. The distance you could handle. The lack of time together, you could handle. The one thing that really had you worried was that each time you saw Kurt, he had look more and more tired, worked to the bone, and drowsy. This continued, on and on, until eventually, you stopped seeing Kurt all altogether.

You asked about him frequently when you spoke with the animal trainers, only to be met with a shrug, or indifference, and an overall lack of concern. You had no time to speak with his mother or sister, only receiving some understanding looks that seemed just as worried and sad as you were. You only tried to speak with his brother once, and some sharp words and a cold shoulder later, you decided that would be the last time you would speak to him.

You were worried, and each week that passed you became more and more anxious. You snuck around the circus, tackling one area at a time, but no dice. Even his old living quarters hadn’t been touched in months- and that was the strangest part. You knew he was still at the circus. You heard him being announced to the crowd every night. So where was he? Why the scarcity? You had been so overcome with anxiety and worry that for the longest time, you had even stopped hearing the words of animals as you passed by- only hearing them when you focused. You knew they were speaking, you could still understand them- but every word seemed to escape your conscious. It was like you were in a constant crowd, having to focus on each an every word to truly understand them.

You’re leaving the stables late one night when a flap of wings and and the sudden perch of a bird on a nearby wheelbarrow startles you. It’s a crow. He cocks his head at you in a manner you can only describe as curious, and a bit amused. His beady eyes glint mischievously in the low light.

Hi. He says. You furrow your brows at him, confused as to why he would be here, talking to you like this. You’ve never met a crow that wasn’t out to receive something, despite how loyal the creatures can be once they attach themselves to someone.

You’re the one who listens, aren’t you? He asks, and you hesitate, looking around to make sure the area is clear of any stray staff before you respond.

“... Yes, I am.” You say quietly. He hops towards you, up the length of the wheelbarrow’s handles in an excited manner and perching at the very end, chest-level with you.

You’ve been looking for the blue one. I’ve seen you lingering. He says, and the words give your heart a bit of a jump-start.

“Do you know where he is?” You ask immediately, a little louder than you had meant to. The crow jumps a bit in surprise at your eagerness, before he relaxes with a sound that sounds much like a laugh you swear you had heard before.

Do I? Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t. The crow says, cocking his head at you again. What are you willing to give me in return? The nerve of this corvid! A spark of anger ignites within you, and you have to hold yourself back from wringing the poor thing's neck. You had never, ever met a crow that wasn’t out to get something, but this one in particular was more infuriating than any other crow you had ever met.

“Don’t play games with me, crow. This isn’t a playful matter!” You spit, venomous words causing the crow to cry out and flap his wings, jumping away from you.

Sheesh! Alright, alright. Can’t blame a bird for trying. He says, casually preening his chest feathers in a way that feels entirely to sarcastic. You’re lucky that he’s treated me well in the past. You begin to ask what that was supposed to mean, but knowing Kurt, you wouldn't doubt that he was sneaking meals to other animals besides the horses. When the crow is finished preening, he ruffles his feathers and hops back down the wheelbarrow.

Follow me.

The crow leads you around the circus. Through dark walkways and creepy storage carts, and you begin to wonder more and more where on earth he was taking you- desperate for any clue about Kurt but still distrustful of the creature ahead of you. Eventually, he leads you to the cages where the exotic animals were kept when not in practice or performing. You take extra care to be as silent as a mouse as you walk through the rows and rows of cages each animal is kept in. You’re confused as to why the crow would take you here of all places, but if there was any hope in finding Kurt….

The crow lands on top of a cage up ahead, and you recognize that it seems to be a fairly new one- cool steel and iron bars unpainted compared to the rest of them- which were colored brightly in a way you can only assume was to make it seem like they were much kinder and better suited to the animals that they contained- happy colors equal happy creatures, right? Wrong. You can see a shivering lump in the cage, but it’s so dark out that you can’t seem to figure out just what it was. The poor thing hardly had a blanket or a cushion to keep it warm, and as you get closer, you spot dark skin, a devilish tail, and eventually, you see pointed ears too.

Oh god.

The creature before you wasn’t an it, it was a him. Your him.

“Kurt?” His head lifts only slightly, loling to the side, and you know something is very, very wrong. You’re panicked as you frantically search your pockets for the cage’s skeleton key, the one the trainers had given to you, and your hands are shaking when you open the lock. The lock. They locked him in there. When you’re inside, you fall to your knees, holding Kurt’s face in your hands. His eyes are slowly blinking open like the action is taking all of his effort. He groans in a drowsy discomfort.

“What have they done? What’s happened to you?” You ask, hands shaking as you brush the hair out of his face. This time, when his eyes blink open, they look at you- although a bit hazy and unfocused.

“You… came to see me…” He says, face slowly morphing into a smile as he leans into your touch. It breaks your heart. Absolutely shatters it. Dear god- What had they done to him for him to be so- so-

“Kurt, I need you to focus, please.” You say, your voice breaking as you begin to tear up. Kurt doesn’t respond, leaning further into you to where his head is basically in your lap. Your hands have been running through his hair in a way you can't even call soothing, a nervous tick beginning to form as your mind races. You’re nearly hyperventilating now as you call his name, trying to get him to wake up- to look at you.

They’ve been sedating him.

The sound of the low rumble nearly startles you. You look up with blurry eyes, and in the cage across from Kurt is Nyla, the circus’ trained tiger, stretched out and resting her head on her crossed front paws. Her eyes glint in the low light, reflecting back at you. You don’t even know what to say.

They do it with almost all of us. Nyla continues, a somber tone in her voice.

“All of who, Nyla?” You ask once you’ve finally found your words, Kurt drowsily begins to mumble nonsense in your lap. Nyla raises her head a little.

The attractions. The non-human ones. She says- and suddenly, you feel like the situation has become so much worse. Oh god, you were sure you were about to be sick. Your stomach twists in knots at the thought, horrified and disbelieving.

“They- they can’t possibly have. They raised him here- they know him. Why would they do that?” You whisper. It doesn’t make sense to you. This was his family. The only family he had ever known- and his strangeness in all its glory had never been a problem before. Why now? Why now would they treat him as an animal? As something to be feared instead of the son, nephew, brother that they had raised? Why?!

Same reason they do it to the rest of us. Nyla replies, resting her head again. For control.

You swear that those simple words had plunged your world into silence.

You look frantically back and forth between Kurt and Nyla, shaky hands still touching Kurt’s face as he sighs and leans into you, a bit of discomfort beginning to shine through, what you can only assume was the side-effects of tranquilizer. You had seen them use the stuff on particularly rowdy and upset animals, you knew how awful it could make them feel. You are trying so very hard not to cry, but you are slowly loosing the battle. You know you need to do something, anything at all, but you can’t seem to pull your thoughts together, not before-

They’re coming back, They’re coming back! The crow caws loudly, grabbing your attention. You know you need to go, but you can’t leave him here. Not like this. You can’t. He shouldn’t be here. He’s human. He’s not an animal. He may look different- be a mutant like yourself, but you know he’s still human. Of course, he is. He’s your Kurt, and he’s hurting, and you can’t leave him here. You just can’t.

Listen to the crow. Nothing good will come from them finding you here. Nyla says, and when you look at her this time, you are crying. Nothing good was given to his sister when she did the same. The tears sting your eyes and burn your cheeks, and you don’t want to go. You don’t want to leave him, but if you get caught, there would be one less person to help him escape. You know you can’t take that risk. Animals begin to stir as footsteps approach around the corner, and the crow anxiously hops back and forth on the top of Kurt’s cage, once again reminding you that you need to leave now. You look back at Kurt, holding his face tightly now as his half-lidded eyes slowly blink open and closed.

“I’m coming back for you, Okay? I promise.” You tell him, tears falling from your face and onto his cheeks. He’s once again looking at you, but he seems hazed still, loopy and delirious.

“Du bist wunderschön… an angel… of my very own.” Kurt mumbles, but you don’t have another moment to spare. You press a kiss to his forehead, gently laying his head back down as you quickly leave the cage and lock it behind you, no matter how painful it is. You can’t help but continue to look back at his cage as you leave, the image cementing in your mind as you run from that place, the crow following close behind you.

You had to do something, you were sure of it, but you knew it had to be soon. A pit had settled in your stomach again, and you knew that something very bad was going to happen.

You would be right.

The next time you saw the colorful tents of the circus, it would be in flames.

You were frantic, having arrived that night with a plan to help Kurt escape, only to come face to face with your worst nightmare. Performers and staff were gathered a safe distance away, many holding you back as you tried to run into the flames, desperate and heartbroken over your friend. Your friends. The calls and cries and roars and whinnies of pain were more than you could bear. They were in pain. They were dying. After all the pain and suffering they had gone through in their life, they were dying.

The nails of the hands holding you back leave scratches when you rip yourself from her grasp- the grasp of Kurt’s mother, Margali. She calls for you as you run into the flames, but you cannot hear her. You’re closest to the stables, and you fling open the door, pushing and shoving with all your might. The cries of terror ring in your ears as you open each stall one by one, urging each and every horse, pony, and zebra to run as fast and as hard as they can. Bubbles is the last to go before the building crumbles, and then you’re running to the cages, praying, praying that the fire has not spread there yet.

It had.

You tried to open them, you really did, but it was too hot. The metal was burning your hands, the smoke filling your lungs. You can't see through the smoke as you try to find Kurt’s cage. You’re struggling, unable to see, the fire becoming too close and singeing your hair. A pair of hands grab you by the arms, and tugs you to a stop.

It’s Stephan. He looks concerned and enraged. He’s saying something, but you can't hear him over the sounds of the animals and the crackle of the flames. The tents that were close by begin to crumble, and you look on in horror. He grabs you again and tugs you along with him as he runs. You cough and stumble and cry, and when he finally leads you out of the flames, he turns around to scold you.

“What are you doing?! Are you crazy?!” He says, chest heaving. You’re coughing and struggling to breathe, falling to your knees as you sob.

“I- I was…” You struggle to cough out.

“What?! What was so important you had to run into those flames like an idiot?! The lives of any stupid animal aren’t worth losing your own!” He shouts, and you can’t find your anger through your absolute despair.

“...Kurt.” You finally cough out. “I was trying to find Kurt. I need to- he could be-” You can't finish your sentence before you have another coughing fit, placing your arms on the ground to steady you as you try to recover. You’re jerked forward in an instant, Stephan having fallen to his knees and yanking you off-balance by violently tugging you by the arms. You’re almost… Afraid of him, all in your face like this. He’d never been a calm man, but this rage was…

“Kurt?! KURT?! That bastard mutant set the damn fire! It’s his fault! Let him die in it!” You’re terrified as he screams in your face, trying to struggle out of his bruising grip. No- no that’s not right. That can’t be. He’s a liar! He’s always been jealous of Kurt, He’s lying again.

Leave them be, Douchebag! The caw comes from your left as the Crow from before swoops in on him, dive-bombing his head and eyes. Stephan screams in anger and frustration as he violently pushes you away, swatting at the corvid as he attacks him. You watch as one swat connects, sending the Crow flying into the dirt. You call out for it, scrambling by the crow's side as you glare at Stephan, who begins to approach with a deadly look on his face. Every primal instinct you have is screaming at you. This is face of a killer. He’s going to kill the crow- hell, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was going to kill you, too.

“Stephan!” He stops in his tracks at the sound of his name, and you’re gathering the crow into your arms as Margali Szardos steps into view. Stephan huffs as he walks to his mother’s side, sending you and the crow one last glance. They begin to fight in hushed voices, leaving you an onlooker in something that seems over your head.

Kurt escaped. The crow says from your lap. You look down at him in surprise, holding him gently as he makes small sounds of pain, injured from the hard hit. He’s okay. He didn’t set the fire. Not on purpose. My Mistress made sure he was okay.

“Mistress…?” You mumble, watching as the crow cocks his head in the direction of the fighting family, and when your eyes fall upon Margali, It all begins to click.

“Where is he?” You ask, heart thudding in your chest.

I don’t know. He says. He disappeared in a puff of smoke. I couldn’t find him.

The words have you distraught again. You have to find him. You promised you would be back for him, and you weren’t. You were too late- now many of your friends were dead, and all you could think about was finding the one person you needed to know was still alive and okay.

We will find him. The murmurs stop, and when you look up, Stephan is trudging away. Margali watches him leave, elegant as ever with a somber look in her eye, and turns to look at you, hunched over in the dirt, shattered and stained by soot and smoke, her closest confidant safe in your lap. She knows that you will look for him. She asked if I would help you- and I will.

Margali turns away from the two of you, disappearing into the woods behind her son.

You had to find Kurt.

#x men #x men 97 #x men comics #x men headcannons #x men 97 x reader #kurt wagner #nightcrawler #nightcrawler xmen #nightcrawler x men #xmen nightcrawler #x men nightcrawler #kurt wagner fanfic #kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #marvel #marvel x men #marvel reader insert #marvel x reader

284 notes · View notes

luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 months

Text

He's My Man (Part 2)

Summary: The reader isn't quite so sure if she can trust Russell with her secrets but he's decided she's going to get his help, whether she wants it or not. Reluctantly she accepts but in the process realizes she might actually be starting to care about him...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 4,500ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury mention, mentions of death, angst, fluff

A/N: Ooooh things are heating up! Please enjoy!

__________

Russell stared at you with what one could only describe as a look of wonder. You didn’t exactly blame him. Eating four large cheese danishes and chugging back a week’s worth of coffee in the span of fifteen minutes was enough to make anyone’s eyes widen.

You tossed your trash in his motel waste bin when you finished and returned to your seat at the tiny corner table. With an obnoxiously loud slurp of even more coffee, Russell titled his head, shaking it slightly.

“Good god. You have never been more attractive to me, which is saying something.” You slurped again, Russell letting his curiosity in your eating habits fade away in favor of the elephant in the room. He straightened in his seat, pausing a beat. “So. What’s this long story?”

Your fingertips rattled against the side of the large styrofoam cup, a small amount of heat radiating through. Now that you’d had some time to think, or rather stress eat, you knew this was a mistake. A big one. You needed to kick Russell out of your life and the sooner the better.

“I think you have the wrong idea about what’s going on and I thought it better we talk in private,” you said. Russell wore a weary expression, his eyes dissecting your every micro-movement. “I’m not interested in a relationship or a date or conversation. I don’t do that considering my line of work and I imagine you keep things casual with yours. So you take your money and consider this a warning. Contact me again and I will have you dealt with, understand?”

Russell leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a clenched jaw. You narrowed your eyes in response, Russell picking at his bandage without realizing.

“Stop that,” you mumbled when he kept doing it, his lip twitching up in a not so friendly way.

“You threaten me and in the next breath are worried about my damn stitches? I don’t think you realize just how good I am at my job,” he said, placing both hands on the table, folding them together. You swallowed, Russell staring so intently you had to glance away. “Alright. Back at the coffee shop, that was a moment of bravery and now it’s passed? Tough shit. We’re in the weeds now and we ain’t leaving until I know you do your job of your own free will. Understand?”

“Forget I said anything.” You stood up, Russell matching the movement and catching your bicep before you could take a step. Yes, he was injured but even one armed, he had enough raw strength in him to keep you from leaving.

“Tell me or I dig on my own and make things a lot riskier for both of us.” He dropped his hand, nodding to the seat. Russell sighed. “I trusted you. You can do the same.”

“You’re one guy.” You shook your head. ��Drop this or you’ll wind up dead or worse.”

“I made my living doing jobs where if I fucked up I’d wish I were dead over the alternative. I know how to keep a secret. Maybe I can help, maybe I can’t. But you opened the box. You can’t just close it again.”

“Yes, I can. Goodbye, Russell.” You grabbed your coffee and headed for the door, pausing when you had a hand on the handle.

But what if he could help…he was ex-special ops…

Russell’s hand slid over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. You frowned, a reassuring smile greeting you.

“Do you like your job?” he asked.

“S’complicated,” you whispered.

“How complicated?”

“Jobs like yours…that’s up to me to do that stuff but I…I work for someone else.” You found Russell’s unreadable green eyes and sighed. “I’m a fixer for the local mafia. It’s not a job you get to quit and stay alive very long.”

Russell contemplated your words, lips forming a thin line before he nodded. “I can take care of that assuming your story checks out.”

“My story?” you asked, Russell humming. “Why would I lie-”

“You could be playing me for any number of reasons. Like I said, I’m going to check your story out and if it’s all kosher, we’ll figure out where to go from there. Capiche?”

“Fine,” you grit out, shaking his hand away. “But do it quietly. You got three days.”

Late Evening

Your eye actually twitched when you answered your front door that night to find not your pizza delivery man before you but Russell fucking Shaw. He wore a deep navy utility jacket that hung loosely around his trim waist and a pair of black jeans. You weren’t sure why but his shift from lighter colored clothing this morning to this dark, edgy look made him look as dangerous as you expected he was.

“Russell,” you said. He didn’t bother hiding his smirk, eyes roaming over your body. You glanced down at your soft pale yellow pajama shirt and matching shorts set, huffing when he slipped past you inside.

“You totally are the kind of woman to having matching jammies,” he chuckled. You gripped the door tight, ready to kick him out just as your delivery driver pulled up.

“Just…take off your boots.” Two minutes later you had your pizza and garlic knots on your kitchen counter while Russell leaned back against it, his jacket since removed and tossed on the back of your couch. He wore a black zip up that was undone over a black t-shirt, Russell shifting at your growing unease.

“Listen,” he said, holding up his hands. “You got questions but first off, I’m not here to hurt you. This is just what I wear when I need to go…looking around places I ain’t exactly invited into.”

“Like my home?” He stared blankly, eyes drifting down to your chest. “The flirting was cute. Eye-fucking me in my kitchen, not so much.”

“You have sauce all over your shirt.” You glanced down, spotting marinara drops all over your short sleeve button up top from where you’d had the edge of the pizza box pressed against your torso as you’d carried it in. “Thanks for thinking so highly of me, though. Makes a guy feel special.”

“I’m on edge, alright?” you snapped, grabbing a towel and trying to get most of the sauce out. “Plus I just ruined a two hundred dollar shirt.”

“Figured you for a oversized men’s t-shirts kind of gal but little sets from french boutiques suites you.” You froze, Russell dropping his hands. “I know all about your shopping habits. You have high quality taste, much richer than the average suburbanite.”

“And?” you said, tossing the towel down, hands going to your hips. “Are you about to kidnap me and turn me over to the mafia or what?”

Russell approached you slowly, gently picking up the towel from the floor and dabbing it with some dish soap.

“If I had wanted to hurt you or take you or whatever else is going through your head, you wouldn’t have seen me coming.” He rubbed the towel against the damp spot on your shirt, letting the fabric get soapy. “Let that soak for a few minutes and then after you have some dinner, toss it in the wash. It’ll come out good as new.”

“How do you know that?” you asked, Russell hanging your towel on the oven handle.

“Because knowing how to get stains out of all types of fabrics is kind of necessary in my line of work,” he said, opening a few cabinets before finding the one with the plates. “Now. Can you put the knife you thought you grabbed without me seeing back and we have a civilized conversation over pizza?”

You weren’t sure how he’d seen you swipe the knife from the butchers block but figured he had a point. If he’d wanted to screw you over, he would have done it already. After excusing yourself, you returned in a pair of skinny black joggers and a slightly cropped gray AC/DC shirt to find Russell had already plated two sizeable portions for yourselves.

“See? Now that’s a look more fitting for the princess of darkness,” he chuckled.

“That’s queen of darkness to you,” you said, taking a seat at the island in front of one of the plates. “Do me a favor, lover boy. Grab me a guinness from the fridge.”

“Dark stout. Always a good choice.” He got out two, removing the cap for you before retreating to the other side of the island.

“As much as I love uninvited house guests who welcome themselves to my food and beer, why are you here, Russell?” You took a large bite of pizza, Russell long necking his beer for a moment.

“Yet I don’t see you kicking me out. It’s okay to admit you’ve fallen for me, Y/N,” he teased. You growled, Russell’s eyebrows raising in amusement. “Hot damn, woman. I love when you get all grr. Tells me you are a force to be reckoned with.”

You rolled your eyes, Russell taking an extra large bite. “Stop flirting and talk.”

“Why can’t I do both?” he asked, not waiting for an answer. “But to answer your original question, I’m here because your story checked out and that’s kind of a problem.”

“Excuse me? Why is that an issue?”

He set his plate down and gripped the island, leaning over it slightly. “Y/N. I can call up a few friends and wipe out a local mafia family no problem.”

“Awesome. Then what’s the fucking problem?” Russell tilted his head, like you’d just walked into some kind of trap he’d set.

“Y/N. Despite all the obvious sexual tension brewing between us, you failed to mention that you have a boyfriend. You know, the head of this fucking mafia family. The boyfriend that buys you those fancy french pajama sets? The one that bought that espresso machine over there? Girl, you better explain yourself because I am not a hired gun.”

You chewed quietly for a few moments under the heated scrutiny of Russell’s gaze before you pushed the plate away.

“My dad was an accomplished doctor. He was very well respected. I grew up very comfortably until I was about eight.” Russell loosened his stance and began to eat while you decided what he needed to absolutely know. “My dad unknowingly saved a mobster’s life one night in the ER. Mr. Lauter.”

“The former head of the mafia and this guy, Owen, your supposed boyfriend’s dad?” You nodded before taking a big swig from your bottle.

“Well, that pissed off Mr. Elpine who had almost had a successful hit on Mr. Lauter. Elpine tried to get my dad to kill Lauter. Dad refused and the next morning on the way to school, the brake lines in our car didn’t work. Dad and I walked away. Mom and my brother didn’t. Dad was scared Elpine would come after me again.”

“Your father went to Lauter for protection,” said Russell. You picked up your pizza as he put together the rest of the pieces. “Lauter offers him protection for saving his life but something happens and your dad ends up working for Lauter as his fixer.”

“The paranoia got to dad. He would take me on these weekend hunting trips all the time and teach me survival skills and medical stuff and I was a fucking kid, Russell. I didn’t want to do that shit but dad was…twitchy. PTSD for sure, a mental break too. I always guessed there was some brain trauma after the accident that never healed. He got real bad when I went to college. Bad enough that Lauter stepped in when my dad attacked me when I came home for the holidays. Lauter killed him and the fucked up part was I wasn’t even upset. My real dad had died when I was a kid. But…when a mob boss kills for you whether you wanted them to or not-”

“They think they own you for life.” You nodded. “So you became the fixer.”

“They let me finish college under the condition I come back and work for the family. They leave me be except for when I need to patch someone in the crew up. It’s honestly not that bad. They gave me a lot of money over the years. I hate to say this but Mr. Lauter was pretty good to me.”

Russell cleared his throat. “You do know how fucked up what he did to you is, right?”

“Of course I do,” you said, closing your eyes. “But compared to my dad and Owen, he was the lesser evil.”

“I came across the fact Mr. Lauter died about three weeks ago from heart disease.” You hummed. “Tell me about this fuckface, Owen.”

“Dude has had a crush on me since he was fucking twelve. He has it in his head that the family owns me, literally. Lauter always reined him in but since he’s been gone, Owen’s been…pushy. Telling the crew I’m his girlfriend, asking them to follow me. Thankfully, and this is why this is so weird, I grew up around a lot of the guys. Making me work and fix people, fine. But some kind of forced romance? They aren’t cool with it, at least they’re kind of ignoring Owen. I’ve kept Owen off my back because he’s grieving and busy trying to take over but he’s going to back on my ass soon. This time, those guys will have to listen to their new boss.”

“So…I take out Owen and you think you’re in the clear. You could have just said that.” He finished off his beer and washed his hands at the sink. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going grab essentials, and I mean essentials, while I pack up your dinner in what I expect is some color coordinated tupperware. Then you’re going to take my car and drive to Elmhurst Camping Grounds. It’s about four hours north of here and no, you will stop for anything so use the bathroom before you go and I’ll pack you a snack. You’re going to park in the visitors lot and go to the airstream in lot 4. It’ll be isolated. You knock on the door and there’ll be a guy inside. Colter. You stay with him, go wherever he goes and do whatever he tells you to without question. You don’t leave his side until I come and get you, understand?”

“I feel like if I ask questions you’ll just tell me I don’t want to know.” Russell smirked.

“I love that big brain of yours.” You rolled your eyes but felt a tiny smile on your face. “Warming up to me are we?”

“Fuck no. But uh, who the hell are you sending me to?”

“My baby brother. Don’t worry. His ugly mug will keep you safe.”

Four Hours Later

“Uh, hi,” you said, practically bouncing up and down at midnight in front of a strange tall man at a very nice airstream RV.

“Y/N,” he said as you forced a smile. “Bathroom is right there-”

You darted past him and into the small cubby bathroom, grateful after the long drive. The man was waiting leaned against a small counter space when you exited, a temporary bed made up behind him in what looked like a breakfast nook.

“Sorry to barge in. Russell said not to stop for anything.”

“S’alright,” he said. “Bed’s made up if you want to crash. I’m going to stay up a bit longer by the fire. You’re welcome to join if you like.”

“Thanks, uh…” you said, a very brief smile on his face as you tried to remember what Russell had called him.

“Colter. It’s not a problem.” He skirted by you and outside, taking a seat in a foldable camping chair. You had questions but for the moment, all you wanted was to get some rest.

You woke up around six thirty, jolting up in your bed to find a very wet and nearly naked Colter trying to pick up a mug he’d dropped.

“Well good morning,” you said, his hand in a death grip on the towel just barely concealing him away.

“Morning,” he said, slowly backing up to the bedroom. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Not a problem,” you said, catching a whiff of coffee.

“Mug are in the first cabinet if you want a cup. I’ll be out in a minute,” he said. He excused himself to his room and slid the divider shut, leaving you to the rest of the airstreamer.

A moment later you were outside in front of a small fire, sitting in a chair with warm coffee in your hands. It was cool and you wished you’d thought to pack a jacket in your haste last night.

You were rubbing your arms when something was draped over your shoulders, a thick heavy hoodie.

“Russell got you out of there pretty quick, huh?” asked Colter, taking the mug while you shrugged into the warm fleece.

“Yeah. All I grabbed was my wallet, some cash and my computer. He told me I could buy clothes here,” you said. Colter handed you back the mug and took a seat beside you.

“I checked his car. He had a duffel full of his clothes in there I brought inside. You can use his stuff, or mine, until we can hit a store.”

“Thanks,” you said, smelling Russell’s deodorant on the fabric. Colter saw you tug the hood up, a question on the tip of his tongue but he decided against it. The air was still and quiet apart from the crackle of fire and morning birds.

“So,” said Colter, not looking at you as he drank. “You and Russell…you like, his girlfriend-”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I just met the guy yesterday. All I did was patch him up.”

“Right.” You sunk lower in your chair, slurping loudly.

“Were you special ops like him?” you asked. Colter shook his head.

“Civilian. Never had any formal training, just what we grew up with.” Well, that was an interesting statement. What the hell did it mean though? “Our father was a survivalist, taught us things.”

“Oh. My dad was a little out there too.” Was that why Russell was so adamant about helping you out of your situation? No. Maybe it played a part, but no. He’d wanted to help before you told him that. “Does Russell do this sort of thing often?”

“No clue. First time I talked to him in years was two days ago. I helped him find a friend of his. I was there when he got that bullet hole in him you fixed.”

Alrighty then. Russell was becoming more and more intriguing by the second.

“So you don’t know a lot about him then,” you said. Colter shrugged.

“I guess I’m figuring him out too but he’s a good guy. He’s somebody you want as a friend.” You hummed, finishing your coffee off. Colter excused himself to get you more and returned with a fresh cup, steam billowing from within.

“You trail run?” you asked, Colter’s eyes showing a flash of surprise. “Muddy sneakers by the door. I did cross country in school.”

“I try to get out most mornings. The hot water should be good to go in about five minutes if you want a shower.”

“Thanks.” You licked your lips as you remembered the sight of him exiting the bathroom not long ago. Sure, Colter was hot but Russell…well the image of that man in nothing but a towel as water dripped down his body…You shifted in your seat, squeezing your legs together to try and get a hold of yourself. Colter smirked slightly in his seat. “What?”

“I’m good at reading people is all.”

“And? What am I saying?” you asked, staring him down. Colter only smiled as he looked away to the fire.

“You’re wondering if Russell works out and picturing him naked.” You glared at him but it did nothing to hide the heat radiating off your cheeks. “Hey, you’re a grown woman. You can do as you please.”

“I think I will take that shower now.” You stood and set the mug down on the ground, shooting Colter one last look. There’d been no malice or teasing in his voice. He was simply being straight with you. “Listen. I just…I haven’t exactly been around good guys much, or ever. I’m not saying there’s anything there beyond physical attraction, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, looking at you like you were the worst liar in the world. “Whatever you say.”

You grumbled and went inside to take a very cold shower.

Three Days Later - Spokane, Washington

“Hey, Colt,” you said, pushing up the long sleeves of Russell’s gray henley you wore. Colter hummed around the piece of grilled chicken in his mouth as you spun your laptop around from the other side of the airstream’s dining table. “Could she have gone here? Looks like a decommissioned game trail.”

“Yeah, yeah that fits,” he said with his mouth full, chewing and swallowing quickly so he could take a closer look. You returned to your own dinner, Colter mentioning he was going to take a look after dark.

Things had fallen into an easy pattern with the two of you. Colter was very different than his brother but it wasn’t a bad thing. He didn’t talk much and worked as a rewardist. He’d planned on sticking around the east coast for when Russell met up with you again but an urgent case in Washington popped up. You’d spent most of the past three days driving cross-country behind Colter’s truck and the airstreamer, learning what the hell a rewardist was.

Colter had told you about the case at first to keep your mind off of Russell but you’d reluctantly taken an interest and now were deep in the weeds of helping him locate a missing young woman.

“You want to come look with me?” asked Colter, breaking you out of your train of thought. You blinked, a small smile on his face. “Come on. It’ll get you some experience with rewardest work and stop you from doom scrolling.”

“Alright,” you sighed. While you appreciated Colter’s attempts to make you feel better, you were starting to get very concerned. You hadn’t heard from Russell since you left your house a few days ago and there was nothing in the news about the local mafia members being killed. Or him.

Colter rubbed your back when you helped him unhook it from the airstream. He tended to do that when you started to get stressed out. He hadn’t been lying before. He really was good at reading people.

“Colter,” you said in the dark truck, the hum of the vehicle quiet in the cab as he drove. “What if something happened to him and he needs our help?”

“He knows what he’s doing. A job like this, he’s got to do a lot of prep work and he’s got to put a crew together. Trusted friends. Try not to worry.” You bit your bottom lip as you stared out the window, trees passing by.

If only it were that simple.

It was two in the morning by the time you and Colter made it back to the camping grounds. You’d found Martha in not too great of shape but she was alive and the doctors said she’d make a full recovery with time. Colter has tried to give you some of the reward money for helping but you hadn’t done all that much in your opinion.

“Stay here,” he said when he turned the truck into your lot and you spotted a dark figure sitting by the fire. He took his gun from the back of jeans and got out, pausing halfway out the door. He smiled over at you and you caught the dark figure give an awkward little wave. “Should I tell him how much you’ve been worried?”

“Not. A. Word. Colter,” you said before hopping out and happily rushing over to where Russell rose to his feet. You didn’t realize you were giving him a hug until he was laughing, returning it and lifting you off the ground.

“I missed my queen of darkness too,” he chuckled, setting you down with a smirk. You scoffed, Russell’s eyebrows raising at your attire. “Is that my jacket? And shirt?”

“Why waste the money on new stuff,” you shrugged, Russell grinning like an idiot. “Stop that.”

“I’m sure that was the reason.” Colter came over, the boys sharing a nod. “You keep my little delinquent out of trouble?”

“She’s a breeze,” said Colter, taking a seat. “Even helped with my latest case. She should try the rewardist thing. She’s good at it.”

“Maybe. All I want to know is am I good?” you asked. Russell took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. He nodded, the tension running of out your body. “Thank you, Russell. Thank your friends too. I’ll pay you guys-”

“No payment. This was because you’re my friend, plain and simple. Just knowing you’re safe is more than enough.” You smiled, letting yourself rest your head against his shoulder. “You should rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“How-”

“In the morning. I need to catch up with my little brother.” You nodded, enjoying the feel of his heavy hand as it ran over your head. “Go sleep, Y/N. You’re exhausted.”

You reluctantly peeled yourself away and went inside to find your makeshift bed had been done up for you already. You didn’t even try to fight the flutters in your stomach when you spotted a yellow pajama shirt and shorts set neatly folded on top. There was a note beside it, a stupid ass smile finding it’s way onto your face.

Brand new. Imported from France. Don’t get used to fancy ass presents like these. I ain’t made of money. Even if these are soft as fuck and I totally wish they made these for men. I still think you’d look better wearing a band tee to bed.

Russ

P.S. They had a sale so I got you something else too. Check your backpack.

You shook your head and grabbed your bag from the floor, taking out a very elegant black bag. You undid the tissue paper and went wide eyed.

Inside was a very, very, fancy black lace bra and multiple pairs of gorgeous bikini style undies in soft muted colors. There was another note waiting for you inside, your heart stilling.

No strings attached. Hopefully these will cover you for a little while until you can get settled again.

“Oh, Russell,” you said quietly, thumbing over the bag, smiling to yourself as your insides did very happy backflips.

He wasn’t just a pretty and protective face. He was thoughtful too.

And you were starting to fall for a guy that’d most likely be gone by this time tomorrow.

Fuck.

__________

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

#russell shaw #Russell Shaw x reader #russell shaw fanfiction #Tracker Fanfiction #Tracker #Russell Shaw x you #Russell Shaw Series

321 notes · View notes

number1jeonginstan · 3 months

Text

A/N: Fair warning, this was a two am thought and was written on my phone all in one sitting, so I apologize if there are any errors. I don’t know how I came to this thought, but I’m not complaining because I’m just glad I can write again. If you are not comfortable with this type of content, PLEASE skip over it :) I might add onto this, but DO NOT quote me on this, thank you!!!

Pairing: afab!reader x Jisung

WC: 2.1k (all written on my phone, god my fingers hurt)

CW: Step-cest, sub-ish!Jisung, noona kink (I’ve succumbed 😞), Whiny!Jisung, Reader is a year older,, common porno scene…

You had just gotten back from your second year of college, and were welcomed by the sight of your mom, step-father, and younger step-brother, Han, eating breakfast on the kitchen table.

Your step-father, Mark, was looking at the morning paper as Han and your mother chatted away. As she looked up from her conversation from Jisung, ready to take another bite of food, her fork escaped her mouth, dropping down to her plate.

“Y/n-ie!!” she exclaimed happily, running out of her seat and into you, tacking you into a bear hug.

“Hi mom!”

You embraced her back as both Han continued to stuff his cheeks with the food splayed out in front of him..

Mark quickly put the paper down back onto the table before getting up and patting you on the head, exclaiming that you grew too much in the short time you were gone.

“Last time I saw you, you were still frazzled by the thought of packing your own luggage, now look at you” he grinned before ushering you to sit down and eat something.

“Noona, it’s good to see you back” Jisung shrugged before going back to his meal and phone, almost ignoring your presence completely.

“Honey, not to complain because I’m excited to see you, but what are you doing back a week early?” Your mother questioned before grabbing you a plate and a glass from the kitchen.

Her voice echoing throughout the house as you sat down and the table and snatched a piece of bacon, chewing on it before finally replying.

“My roommate kicked me out, or asked me quite nicely to leave a tad bit early so her and her boyfriend could have some “alone time together” before moving back, and since my finals ended early, I decided why not surprise y’all?”

“We are very happy to see you here” Mark coughed before looking up at your mom who shot him a quick glare.

“What’s going on?” You questioned, as you posted your food, looking at them with a quizzical expression.

“Well, since we thought you weren’t going to be back for another week, we booked a cruise for just the two of us, and it would be kind of hard to cancel it seeing as it begins tomorrow”

“Mom, don’t even worry about it, I can just hang out with Jisung and ask him about his first year of college” you grinned.

You punched his arm slightly causing him to give you a death glare before putting on his headphones and leaving the table, not bothering to pick up his plate.

“Are you sure?” Mark asked, his brow raised slightly, his glasses slowly falling down the bridge of his nose.

“Of course, I don’t want you guys to cancel your plans. Plus, it would be nice to have this air conditioned house all to my self, and Han of course.

“Well if you insist” your mother giggled coming next to you and kissing the top of your head.

The rest of the day wasn’t eventful, it was filled with you telling your mother stories from your last semester as she cooked some meals for Jisung and you, knowing how bad you both were when it came to cooking.

“I still can’t believe both my kids are in college” she sighed, cutting up onions to hide the real reason tears were trickling out of her eyes.

“Mom don’t cry” you whined, giving her a hug before she went back to her cheery self.

“Go call Jisung for dinner, I made both of your favorites”

You simply nodded, running up the stairs passing your room, your door still covered with hello kitty stickers from when you were younger.

When your Mom and Mark had started dating two and a half years ago, you never expected that your childhood house would be tainted with an obnoxious nerd that watched anime all the time and barely left his room, but here you were.

Jisung was the vain of your existence since your mom had introduced you to Mark as her fiancée. You knew they were serious, but you never expected them to get engaged, let alone married.

It also didn’t help that Han Jisung was now your younger step-brother. It wasn’t even that big of an age difference between the two of you, just 9-months, but he loved it.

It was his favorite thing to call you Noona, knowing damn well you hated it.

Whenever he asked you for anything he would always end it with Noona, batting his boba-eyes and smirking knowing just how much it pissed you off.

It wasn’t that the two of you really hated each other, but rather just ignored one another unless it was to tease each other. And sometimes it gets so bad that your Mom or Mark had to keep you locked in your rooms so you wouldn’t strangle mine another.

You quickly snapped yourself out of it as you arrived outside of his room, knocking slightly. When you didn’t get a response, you knocked harder.

“Jisung, come down for dinner” you spoke into the closed door.

You pressed your ear against the door hoping you could hear any sign of life, and you did, but it wasn’t anything you were expecting.

Usually, Han either had music playing through out his room or some random anime, but instead you heard soft whines,

You didn’t realize what was going on until you heard him moan “Need you noona, please” and another whimper escaping his plush lips.

Your face turned beat red as you quickly ran downstairs, your body flushed.

“Did you tell Sungie dinner is ready?” Your mother asked as she saw you back downstairs.

“I did, but I think he’s just busy and didn’t hear me” you quickly replied before setting the table to help distract yourself from what you had just heard.

“That boy always has his head in the clouds” your mom chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll go grab him”

Before your mother could walk up the stairs, Jisung walked down the stairs, a hoodie adorning his body and completely unaware that you had heard him jerking off into the only clean pair of underwear you had left.

The rest of the night went by smoothly, your brain totally forgetting what had happened just hours prior as you focused on Mark telling you about the cruise they had planned. Jisung had even offered to take them to the airport so your parents didn’t have to park their car there and pay extra fees.

In the morning, you woke up roughly thirty minutes after your parents and Jisung had left, your body still adjusting to coming back home.

You quickly showered, but as you searched for the last underwear you swore you packed because you didn’t want to do laundry right before you left for back home, you couldn’t find it.

“I swear I packed it” you whined to yourself as you looked through your suitcase once again.

“Fuck” you groaned as you just through on some random pair of shorts that you had and an oversized t-shirt. There was no harm in doing underwear as long as you did your laundry before Jisung came back.

As your clothes sat in the washer, you scrolled on your phone, your headphones blasting through your ears, as you tried to distract yourself from the thought that he was going to come home at any moment, especially after yesterday’s incident.

Thirty minutes later, your timer went off on your phone indicating that the cycle for the washing machine was over. You quickly ventured off back to the laundry room that was connected to the house's garage, and started shoving your clothes into the dryer.

Due to your headphones still being plugged into your ears, playing random songs from the 2010’s fullblast, you didn't hear the jingle of Han’s keys as he entered the house.

Your ass being out, barely covered by the piece of cloth you called shorts, was the first thing he noticed as you threw your clothes into the dryer.

Before you could even get back up to get the rest of your clothes, your body was stopped by a force trapping you into the dryer.

“What the fuck?” You questioned ripping your headphones out to get any sort of clue why your body was getting blocked.

“Wow noona, not wearing any panties is quite bold of you” Han chuckled, pulling down your shorts causing you to shudder as your bare pussy met the cold air.

“Han, what the actual fuck! Get away from you” you screamed, pushing your hips back into him, trying to get some distance so you free yourself, but if only pushed your bare cunt straight onto his crotch. The only thing standing between the two of you were his sweatpants.

You could feel his semi press into you, causing him to whine.

“Please noona” he whimpered, humping his crotch into you “I’ll make you feel so good, please just let me play with your cunt” he whined.

You tried to sternly tell him to stop, but just as you were going to, he brought a finger to your cunt, running it down your slit and collecting the wetness that slowly began to form at the thought of him fucking you.

“Han don’t” you moaned as he slowly rubbed your clit, his face coming directly to your cunt, his lips meeting your lower ones as he licked a fat stripe up your pussy.

“Please let me make you feel good noona, I’ll be such a good boy and make you cum if you let me” he whined into your cunt, the vibrations causing your body to convulse slightly.

“Okay Hannie, make me feel good, make noona cum” you whimpered as he began attacking your cunt.

His tongue lapped at your clit as he slowly inserted his finger into your hole, moaning into you as he felt how tight you were.

“Fuck noona, you are so tight, don’t even think you can take my cock inside your cute little pussy”

“Can take it, but first make me cum, please baby?” You moaned as he slowly inserted anything finger into you, his left hand pulling down his own sweats and fisting his cock.

The spit from him eating you out dropping onto his cock as he began fucking his hand at the same thrusts as he fingered you.

“So good noona, your pussy tastes so good” he grinned, nibbling at your clit as he curled his fingers in you, hitting that one spot that made you loose it.

Your moans echoing through the machine as the stimulation of both his fingers inside of you as well as him biting down on your clit causes you to reach your high. Your body convulsing in front of him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck Sungie!! So good for me baby, such a good boy” You whined as he continued to abuse your cunt, before pulling away completely, ruining you from reaching your high for a second time from the overstimulation.

“Need to be in your cunt, please will be such a good boy if you let me, I promise” he whined as he slowly got up, rubbing his cock against your slit and collecting essence of your cum onto his tip.

“Please Sungie, fuck me, be a good boy and fuck Noona”

He groaned as he slowly pushed the tip of his cock info your hole, his whines filling the room as he slowly sheathed his entire cock into you.

“Fuck Jisung, your cock is so big and so hard” you moaned as he began thrusting into you,

“Just for you, my cock is only big and hard for you” he whined, his thrusts becoming more sporadic as he felt himself getting closer, your walls were clenching him so hard and he couldn’t help but whine and let out little “fucks” at each and every thrust.

“More!!” You whined, feeling yourself getting closer as his cock throbbed in you.

He slowly brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing it as he fucked into you, causing you to cum around his cock, your walls squeezing him in.

“Noona!!” He whimpered as he thrusted inside you one more time before painting your walls white with his cum. He continued to rut into you as the two of you came down from your highs.

He slowly pulled out of you, allowing your shared cum pool out of you down to your thighs as drops fell onto your shorts,

He slowly pulled them back up your ass as he pulled away from you, allowing you to slowly leave the machine that he had just fucked you into.

“We are never doing this again” you glared at him, your shorts covered in both of your cum.

“Sure noona” he smirked at you before walking away up to his room.

#ju <3 writes #straykids x reader #straykids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz x reader #han skz #skz han #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #skz fluff #han x reader #han smut #han jisung

232 notes · View notes

stevie-petey · 10 months

Text

episode five: the flea and the acrobat

“Steve, what-” He pushes past you in a frenzied hurry to get to his car, but you grab his jacket and force him to stop. “Answer me! Is Nancy okay? Was Jonathan with her?” Steve whips around and sneers at you. “Why do you even care about them? About him?” “Because we’re friends,” you say, and for the first time you really mean it. Nancy has become someone you’d call a friend. Another cruel laugh escapes Steve’s lips. “Friends, huh? Yeah, those two looked real fucking cozy in her bed.”

summary: you and dustin have a long overdue Sibling Moment, at will's funeral you and jonathan exchange information and surprise ! it's all horrible news ! nancy has awful timing and when you leave her alone with jonathan one damn time you and steve end up trauma bonded on her front porch #bffs.

rating: general, though there's the use of guns in here for plot point sake, as well as cursing

warnings: use of guns, cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 14.4k (whew)

before you swing in: i'm back gang ! fall semester is almost done and i am in the trenches, so i leave y'all with this monster of a chapter before hell week (i have three finals in one day next week, no i don't want to talk about it). please enjoy this beauty, i had so much fun messing with character relationships in this and it was very ;)

With how many times you’ve knocked on the Wheeler’s door this week, you’d think that Mrs. Wheeler would stop looking so surprised when she answers.

“Y/N?”

You give the woman a small smile. “Hi, Mrs. Wheeler. Is, uh, Mike home?”

“Yes… he stayed home today because of Will. Is there something you need?” The usually friendly woman seems beaten down from this week’s events as well, which you’re understanding of.

“I was wondering if I could come in and see how he’s doing? Dustin is really shaken up about it, so I figured…” You shrug, trying to come across as a concerned older sister figure rather than a worried and horrible babysitter who should really retire.

Mrs. Wheeler places a hand over her heart. “Oh, Y/N. You’ve always been so good with the boys, of course you can check on him. It means a lot that you care.”

Oh, no problem, but if we’re being honest I’m here because I’m scared I accidentally let your son get involved with the supernatural and dangerous monster men thingies that I honestly can’t wrap my head around!

Of course you can’t tell the woman this, so instead you thank her and let yourself in. Immediately you head towards the basement and fling the door open. You like Mrs. Wheeler, but the amount of times her son has snuck out of the house without her noticing honestly concerns you, so you’re a bit unsure if Mike even is home.

You get deja-vu from a few days ago as you head down the basement steps, once again hearing the three boys panicking as they try to hide El. Unlike last time, which had only annoyed you, seeing them scramble to hide the girl makes you relieved.

They’re here, alive and well. You’d let Steve distract you from your worrying on the drive over, so the relief hits you like a damn truck.

“Oh god not again!” Dustin groans when he sees you, worried that he’s once again going to get yelled at for being at the Wheeler’s with El.

You ignore his theatrics and walk over to the girl, who is laying face down on the couch. You notice that she’s dressed in one of Nancy’s old costumes and a blonde wig that suits her well. What the hell did the kids get up to today?

“Do I want to know why El is dressed like a doll and almost passed out on the couch?”

“That depends on if you’re going to yell at us again,” Mike says.

You shoot him a glare, but you guess he has a point. The last few times you’ve been with the kids you’ve ended up yelling at them one way or another. You feel bad about that, but then again: they won’t stop getting into trouble.

El manages to raise her head from the couch, “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, sweetie,” you approach the couch and gently nudge her to the side so that you can sit down and place her head on your lap. She nuzzles into your warmth and lets out a sleepy sigh. “And to answer your question, Mike: I’m not here to yell at you guys. I just… Please tell me what’s been going on. I know I haven’t been here for you guys like I should’ve, but-”

“Your boyfriend needed you more,” Mike quips, though there’s some resentment in his voice that causes you to feel even worse.

Dustin hits his shoulder against the boy. “He isn’t her boyfriend, but she couldn’t just abandon him; he needed her. Besides, we have been sneaking off without telling her anything.”

You cast an appreciative smile at your brother, thankful that even though he’s a pain in your ass, he always has your back like you do his. It’s something he’s always done with you and Mike; being so similar, you and him are constantly butting heads, yet Dustin has always been the first to defend you against his friend (even if you’ve never needed it in the first place).

“I’m sorry, okay? I messed up, but I’m here now and I really, really need to know if I’m being paranoid. What mess did you dweebs manage to get into?”

The three boys suddenly can’t look at you. Their heads turn in different directions, Lucas scratches the back of his neck, Mike kicks at a board piece on the ground, and Dustin whistles a tune.

Your shoulders slump. “Is it that bad?”

“It started this morning,”

“Lucas!”

“Mike, she could help us! The weirdo clearly likes her,” he gestures over to El practically asleep in your lap, “plus, she’s the only sane one left in this group. I need backup.”

“Backup?” You ask.

Mike throws his head back in annoyance and lets out a groan as if he’s dying. Truly, this kid is the most dramatic person you’ve ever met. “Fine, we’ll tell you everything if you agree to stop hounding us for sneaking around. Will is missing, he’s our friend, and no one in the party gets left behind.”

You think this over for a moment, weighing the pros and cons in your head. “I will agree to those terms if you guys agree to keep me updated on everything at all times.”

The boys try to argue, but you don’t let them.

“I mean it, another person is missing. Nancy’s friend, Barb, was in the same woods that Will was, the same woods that you guys keep insisting on trekking through without supervision. This is serious, guys. Whatever, or whoever, is out there… it’s dangerous, and I-” You swallow down some tears that claw against your throat. “I can’t lose anyone else, okay?”

The mood in the room is solemn, the three boys silent as your words hang in the air. Naturally, you try to lighten things up. “I’ll deny this if anyone asks, but unfortunately I love you boys.”

As expected, they immediately begin to gag and pretend that they’ve been impaled with something as they all scream “ew” and “yuck” at your words. You laugh, which causes El to laugh as well, and for a moment it feels like nothing has changed.

“So?” You ask after the boys have finished their gross theatrics.

Dustin is the one who makes the decision for them. “We promise to keep you updated, for real this time.”

“Good, now again I ask: why is El dressed like a doll and half asleep on my lap as we speak?”

Lucas, Dustin, and Mike begin to talk all at once.

“Mike radioed for me to head over, claiming he heard Will on the walkie.”

“Yeah, and then they radioed me to join. Sorry, by the way. I would’ve woken you up, but you and Jonathan looked so cozy in your bed so-”

“I thought you said they weren’t dating?”

“Not now, Mike.”

It continues like this for a while as they explain everything they did today. Sneaking El into the school, having to to talk to Mr. Clark, attending the assembly for Will, Mike fighting some idiotic kids for making fun of him before El made the head bully pee himself.

You look down at the girl in your lap. “You can really make people pee themselves?”

“Sometimes,” she shrugs.

“Lovely.”

“That’s what you focus on, Y/N?” Mike asks you, and you simply shrug your shoulders in response. Sue you for still having doubts about Will being alive, you’ve gotten your hopes up one too many times.

“Are you suggesting I believe that you heard Will through your cheap little walkies?”

Dustin puts his head in his hands in defeat while Lucas gestures over to you. “See, she’s the sane backup I need.”

Mike groans at you once more. “No, that’s why we snuck El into the radio room and used the heathkit that Mr. Clark got us. Keep up!”

“What, did you tell the guy that El was a new student?”

“Don’t be stupid, we told Mr. Clark that she’s my cousin.”

“Uhh, Y/N,” Dustin laughs nervously, motioning for you to stop talking. “You promised you’d be cool about everything if we told you.”

Knowing that your brother is right, you deflate a bit against the couch and start playing with El’s hair. “I am being cool, I just have so many questions.”

“Oh, just wait.” Lucas snorts.

Mike now crosses the room to stand in front of you, as if he’s gearing up to tell you some major news. “We heard Will on the heathkit. El, she managed to use her powers to communicate with him.”

Like always, the seriousness in his voice concerns yet intrigues you. “Lucas, do you really believe that it was Will?”

The boy nods at you, his face grim. You don’t like how scared he looks, because out of the entire group he’s the one who is always the most reasonable. If he’s willingly telling you that he thinks it was Will, then you have to start taking the situation at hand seriously.

“Okay, tell me exactly what you guys heard.”

And they do. One by one they tell you about Will’s pleading for his mom, telling her that it’s like home but cold and dark, the banging that followed after his words, how El had used so much of her energy trying to maintain the communication before the radio caught fire and she was too exhausted to do much else.

“So, you believe us now?” Mike asks after you’re silent for a moment.

You look down at the girl in your lap, in awe that someone so small and shy could hold so much power. This time you believe what the boys tell you without much conviction. Now that you know that Barb is missing as well, lost in the same woods as Will, the same woods where you found El, the photos from Nancy and the figure she claims she saw… It’s all starting to come together.

You’re not sure exactly what you’re caught up in, but you know it’s too late to back out. Whatever is going on, whatever thing took Will and transported him to some unknown place with possibly the same powers that El has, you know it’s your responsibility to handle it.

“Yes,” you respond, and the boys all sigh with relief. “Just one question though,”

Dustin sighs. “Yes, Y/N?”

“How did it take you guys so long to set fire to the school? Honestly, Jonathan and I thought it’d happen sooner.”

“You’re hilarious.” Mike deadpans, which only causes you and El to giggle together again.

“I hate to ruin the good mood, but we seriously need to figure out what Will meant when he said that wherever he is ‘is like home’.” Your brother interrupts.

Mike spins to face him. “He said, ‘like home, but dark’, right?”

“And ‘empty’.” Lucas adds.

“‘Empty’ and ‘cold’. Wait, did he say cold?” Dustin asks the group.

You nod your head. “You mentioned cold earlier.”

Lucas throws his hands up in the air in frustration. “The stupid radio kept going in and out!”

“It’s like riddles in the dark…” Your brother sighs, which you hum in agreement to.

Will’s words were pretty vague, but you wish you had been there at the middle school as well. Maybe if you had heard the tone of Will’s voice, you’d be of more help.

Mike continues to mumble about “like home” and “dark” for a few more seconds, now pacing around the room. You watch from the couch, El still resting with her head in your lap, and as you’re playing with her hair she finally speaks up after having been silent for a while.

“Upside down.”

“What’d she say?” Lucas asks.

“Upside down? I guess?” Is all you can tell him.

“What?”

While you, Dustin, and Lucas are confused by El’s words, Mike rushes over to the forgotten board from a few days ago and sits down. He frantically flips it over and motions for you to come and join him. You hesitate for a second, but he only doubles down on his waving you over, so you gently lift El’s head up and walk over.

“God, took you long enough.”

“I was literally three feet away from you on the couch, why did I have to move?”

Mike ignores your question and begins to explain the thirty million thoughts flying through his head at the moment, “When El showed us where Will was, she flipped the board over, remember?”

You nod, slowly understanding where he’s going with this. “She flipped it upside down.”

“Exactly! Dark. Empty.”

Lucas looks over at you and Dustin, unamused. “Do you understand what he’s talking about?”

“No,” your brother says at the same time as you saying “the upside down part? Yes. The dark and empty part? No.”

Mike tries to explain further. “Guys, come on, think about it. When El took us to find Will, she took us to his house, right?”

“You mean last night when they found Will’s body in the water?” You ask, not really understanding where Mike is going with all this.

“Like Y/N said, he wasn’t there.” Lucas reminds everyone, but Mike still tries to get his point across.

“But what if he was there? What if we just couldn’t see him, what if he was on the other side?”

You think about Jonathan’s words from earlier today in the car while on the way to the funeral home, trying to calm down from his fight with his mom. He had told you about how Joyce was convinced that Will was in the walls within their home, that the body they saw in the morgue hadn’t been his.

“Hold on,” you interrupt Mike, “you guys said that there was some, like, banging where Will was, right? And that he had been begging his mom to come get him?”

“Yeah, it was like some sick sci-fi movie!”

You glare at your brother. “Ignoring you. Anyways, did you guys hear Mrs. Byers on the radio as well?”

Mike shakes his head. “No, all we could hear was the banging and something... Growling, I guess.”

Knowing Joyce, you’d bet money that the banging had been her. You know that the next time you go over to their house, the walls might actually be destroyed, but she’d been right all along. Will is alive, he has to be. The pieces that you’ve slowly been collecting this past week fall together one by one.

“That explains the walls and the weird monster thing in Jonathan’s picture,” you mumble to yourself, but Lucas hears you.

“Do I wanna know?”

You purse your lips. “Let’s focus on figuring out where Will is, then I’ll tell you guys what I’ve been up to this week.”

“Okay, so,” Mike begins again, now grabbing the board game and flipping it onto its normal, light side. “What if this is Hawkins,” he flips it upside down onto its dark side, “and this is where Will is?”

“The Upside Down.” You finish for him.

“The Upside Down.” Mike confirms.

Slowly Dustin follows along. “Like the Vale of Shadows.”

Somehow you always end up the one confused when it comes to these damn kids. “The Vale of Shadows? What the hell is that?”

Dustin runs over to the bookshelf and pulls out a thick binder full of paper, but as he flips through it you realize it’s a rulebook for Dungeons and Dragons. He lands on the page he’s looking for, and you feel your shoulders drop. Great. More confusing terminology ahead.

“‘The Vale of Shadows’,” he begins to read, “‘is a dimension that is a dark reflection or echo of our world. It is a place of decay and death. A plane out of phase. A place of monsters’.”

“Wait, didn’t you say something about a monster, Y/N?” Lucas asks, but you shush him so you don't miss whatever else Dustin will say next.

“‘It is right next to you, and you don’t even see it’.” He finishes.

His words hang in the air for a moment, but Mike, always somehow three steps ahead, pieces it together. “An alternate dimension.”

Lucas finally accepts what’s happening. “But how do we get there?”

“I’m sorry, we?” You look between all three boys, their faces still young and holding the childish innocence that you once had yourself. “No, there’s no ‘we’ in this. I may not know much about alternate dimensions, but there’s no way I’m letting you guys try to find and go to one.”

Mike rolls his eyes at you. “Well what choice do we have? Do you want to tell that mean police chief about this?”

“I…well… I mean-no.” You sink down in the seat, annoyed that Mike is right. No way Hopper believes any of this, you hardly believe any of it.

“Can we cast shadow walk?” Dustin focuses back on the conversation at hand.

You don’t bother to ask what that means.

“In real life, dummy.” Lucas reminds him.

“We can’t shadow walk, but…” Your brother’s eyes land on El, who is still laying on the couch, silent and unmoving. “Maybe she can.”

The four of you turn towards the girl, and Mike voices his own question. “Do you know how we get there? To the Upside Down?”

El meets your eyes, and you can see that she’s hesitant about something. She’s been quieter than usual, almost suspiciously so, and you know that the more Mike figures things out, the more hesitant she becomes. She shakes her head at you, and you give her a sad smile.

Lucas flings his head back and groans. “Oh my god!”

Mike and Dustin seem to be thinking the same thing, disappointed by El’s lack of help. You don’t blame them, also frustrated by the fact that it feels like you guys are so close to discovering something big. You can feel hope reignite in your chest; you haven’t been this close to an explanation about Will all week. This has to be it. It’s the only way you can explain everything that’s been happening lately.

Speaking of which:

“Remember how I mentioned Barb and a possible monster?”

You tell them everything, about Jonathan’s worry for his mom, how their phone got charred by lightning, Hopper’s theory that Will had been running from something, Nancy and Barb attending Steve’s party and how Barb had been on her own near the woods. You tell them about how Barb has been missing ever since and the photos Jonathan took (leaving out the horrible ones of Nancy) that Nancy brought to your attention at the funeral home. The figure in the background, looming over Barb, how it didn’t seem to have a face.

Then you tell them about Joyce and her spiral, though now you know she actually wasn’t crazy. You tell them about the Christmas lights and Will communicating with her through them. How she claimed that she could hear him through the wall and that the body in the quarry hadn’t been him.

When you’re finally done catching them up, they stare at you with their jaws open.

“Dustin,” Mike says, “remind me to never leave your sister out ever again.”

“Noted.”

–

The events from the day had left El exhausted and she refuses to say anything else after you explain everything to the boys. Her eyes droop while Mike interrogates you for answers you can’t give him, so finally you take pity on the poor girl and tell him that you’ll talk more in the morning.

Mike isn’t too happy about being shut down, but when you point towards a half asleep El he reluctantly gives in. “Fine, but as soon as the funeral is over we’re discussing this further.”

Right. Will’s funeral is tomorrow.

“Yeah, sure,” you tuck your hair behind your ears and motion over to Dustin. “We need to go, it’s late and mom will be wondering where we are.”

He tries to argue with you but you just gather your things and head for the stairs. There’s still a lot you need to think about and a million things you need to sort before the funeral tomorrow. Did Jonathan even buy the coffin? Who had made the arrangements after you and him left the funeral home with Nancy?

There’s a lot you need to talk about when you call him tonight.

The bike ride home with Lucas and Dustin is a quiet one, both boys understanding that you need some time to think about everything you learned tonight.

You make a list in your head of what you do know, but it’s a frustratingly short list.

1) El, one way or another, has powers that enable her to communicate with Will in some weird upside down universe that you can’t actually get to (can you even count this as something you know?)

2) Hopper was right: Will went missing because he was running from something (probably the same faceless thing that’s in Jonathan’s photo).

3) Whatever took Will also took Barb, bringing Nancy into this wonderfully confusing mess (you still don’t know if her involvement is a good or bad thing).

Everything else? You have no fucking clue what’s going on.

When you get home with Dustin, it’s late; the two of you have to sneak past your mom, who fell asleep with Mews on her lap in the living room. Dustin heads straight for his room but you stop him, motioning for him to come into yours for a second.

“What-”

“Shh!” You quickly shut your door to ensure that your mom won’t hear anything.

Dustin groans. “I thought you said you weren’t gonna yell at me?”

You roll your eyes at him. “I yell at you guys twice after years of patience, now suddenly I’m a screaming monster,” he doesn’t say anything and flings himself onto the bean bag by your bed. “Anyways, we’re long overdue for a code blue.”

Your brother shoots up from the bean bag, eyes wide. “No.”

“Yes,” you join him on the bean bag. “Code blue time, we’re going to talk about our feelings after the hellish week we’ve had. C’mon, you know the drill.”

Code blue was something the two of you came up with when your dad left. You had been twelve when it happened, Dustin had been nine. It’d been a really rough few months for you guys, dealing with the betrayal of your dad while also moving away from your hometown in Virginia all within a year. Neither of you had adjusted well to the sudden changes, and though you were angry and bitter about what had happened, the moment you saw that it was affecting your brother you decided to implement code blue.

It’s simple, really. Whoever calls for a code blue gets to talk about or ask whatever they want while the other is required to answer. Originally it was so that you could force Dustin into telling you his feelings, but over the years it’s become a way to bond with each other and know that no matter what you’ll be there for one another. No half truths or a vague “I’m fine”; it’s a time for you guys to be vulnerable with one another without using it as leverage against the other.

Dustin plops his head back down. “Fine, but I’m tired so can this be quick?”

“Hey, no complaining during code blue. That’s like, rule number one.”

“Y/N.” His tone is one of annoyance and you know that if you don’t start talking soon then you’ll lose his interest.

“Right, sorry. Okay,” you clear your throat and face your brother. “Today’s code blue topic is this: I’m worried about you getting your hopes up about Will. We don’t know that he’s alive just yet.”

As expected, Dustin is unhappy with what you’ve said. “We do know that he’s alive, I heard him on the heathkit. He’s alive, Y/N.” He sees the uncertainty on your face and doubles down on what he’s saying. “He is.”

You bite your lip, scared that you’ll say the wrong thing. “Dustin, nothing is certain. Even though we’re definitely onto something, and while I believe that you heard Will on the radio, that doesn’t change the fact that there’s something else out there that wants to hurt him. I mean, he’s trapped in some weird alternate dimension that we have no idea how to even get into. I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

You think about the way your brother’s face fell when they pulled Will’s body out of the water. How the hope that had been in his eyes immediately died alongside his childhood naivety. He had built all of his hope upon a shaky foundation; the moment it collapsed he fell apart.

“Look I know you’re trying to look out for me, but Will is a part of the party. He’s our friend, we can’t just lose hope and leave him behind. He needs us.” Dustin speaks with so much certainty and an aura of maturity that almost makes you forget that he’s twelve.

“I’m not saying it’s dangerous to have hope, but I need you to promise me that you’ll protect yourself from whatever happens next. How’s that sound?”

Dustin thinks for a moment, tapping a finger against his chin. “Hmm, I think I can make that deal if you promise the same thing. I mean, c’mon, it’s obvious that you’re the sensitive one out of the two of us. You and hope? Doomed.”

You laugh, knowing he’s right. You’ve always been branded by hope; hopeful for love, for dreams, and for those who may not always deserve it. You and hope haven’t always gotten along, but she’s become a familiar friend.

“I think you’ve got yourself a deal. Now, it’s late and I have to call Jonathan and catch him up on everything, so let’s conclude code blue with its mandatory hug.”

“Woah woah woah, I don’t think we gotta-”

Dustin’s words become muffled as you throw yourself on top of him and squish him into a hug. He squirms against you for a second, claiming he can’t breathe, but you shush him and force him to accept the hug. Though you won’t ever tell him this, losing Will has only made you more appreciative of having a wonderfully annoying little brother.

After code blue, Dustin goes to his room claiming that “alternate dimensions are super draining”, and before he leaves you tell him to be ready tomorrow by nine for the funeral and that your mom will take him. You’ll be at the Byers’ helping Jonathan.

Once he’s gone you give yourself a few moments to sit in silence, letting the events from today settle over you. It seems like all you’ve felt this week is exhaustion and hurt and at the rate everything is going, there’s no telling how long you’ll feel this way.

The moment you’re done wallowing you roll off the bean bag and walk over to your desk to call Jonathan. You’re honestly not sure what you’ll even tell him tonight, there’s no way you’ll be able to cover everything before the night ends. The two of you have a long day tomorrow, so you figure you’ll have to make do with the limited time you have and summarize.

Jonathan answers after a few rings. “How’d your little secret mission go?”

You make a face. “Is it even a secret mission if I told you I was going on it?”

“It is if you refuse to tell me what you did during it.”

“Touche, bee.”

He laughs, which sends a cascading warmth throughout your body. You can envision him perfectly on the other end of the line, leaning against his kitchen wall with the phone wire wrapped around his finger as he absent mindedly fiddles with it while he talks to you.

You clear your throat and shake the thought from your mind, you called him for a reason. “Anyways… we need to talk.”

Jonathan is silent for a moment and you can feel the playfulness fade away. “Yeah, you first though. You already know what Nance and I were up to.”

Nance?

Awesome. Cool. Totally not going to be consumed by that later.

“Right. Uh, well. I went looking for Dustin because the other night when I was with the boys we stumbled upon this, well, this little girl.”

“A girl?”

“Yeah, she’s bald.”

“Okay… is that important or…?”

“Unsure, but it felt important to tell you. Sorry,” you take a deep breath, “I’m not sure why I’m so nervous right now.”

“It’s okay, bug. It’s me, you can tell me anything.”

No I can’t.

“Sure, yeah, totally. Um, so anyways we found her, her name is El, and she’s our only connection to Will right now.”

A beat of silence. “What do you mean?”

“Well, she kinda has… powers?”

“Powers,”

“Powers.”

You hear Jonathan sigh on the other end of the call. “Bug, you’re not seriously telling me that the boys have somehow dragged you into one of their little schemes, right?”

Yeah, he’s reacting exactly how you figured he would.

“I know what it sounds like, but Jonathan… How else would you explain everything going on? Will disappeared, Barb did too, your mom and her lights. Now that thing Nancy saw in the woods, which I know you definitely have an update that will only further prove how weird this all is.”

Again Jonathan is quiet, and this time you envision him pacing little circles in the kitchen as he carefully thinks through your words, trying to piece it all together. “We developed the photo again and you’re right, there’s something behind Barb in it.”

You close your eyes and exhale. “So, you believe me now?”

“Guess I don’t really have a choice.”

“You don’t.”

“Then we’ll talk about it after the funeral tomorrow.” He concedes.

“Yeah,” you let out a shaky breath, “the funeral. I’ll make my way over the second I wake up tomorrow to help with everything.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I know.”

More silence settles over the two of you. It’s still hard to wrap your head around the fact that it was only a week ago where everything was normal. No disappearances, no weird feelings, no heartbreak and confusion.

“Bug?” Jonathan is practically whispering.

“Yeah?”

“Lonnie is here.”

The words hit you hard. Why the fuck is Lonnie back in Hawkins? “Do you need to spend the night? I can finally bake those cookies for your mom and we can watch whatever you want.”

“No,” he sounds exhausted. “He hasn’t been a problem yet, and I can’t…”

“Leave your mom with him?” You finish.

“He thinks she’s crazy and her axing down one of our walls doesn’t help-”

So you were right, Joyce did indeed break down her wall to try and get to Will.

“Jonathan, it’s okay. I understand, stay with her and get some rest. Sleep, that’s an order.”

He lets out a weak laugh. “I love you, bug.”

Like how I love you?

“I love you too, bee.” The words burn your tongue.

“Goodnight,”

“Sleep well.”

–

You’re up before the sun this morning.

You spent hours tossing and turning last night, hardly getting any sleep. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to turn your mind off. All you could think about was Jonathan, his smile and his voice and the way he kisses your forehead whenever you’ve done something especially endearing to him. You were surrounded by him last night.

Now you stand outside his front door holding a tin of cookies, dressed in a simple knitted black dress and tights with mary janes that used to belong to your mom for Will’s funeral. The shoes are your favorite, but now you’re afraid they’re tainted by the occasion you’re wearing them for.

It’s Lonnie who opens the door. “Well if it isn’t little miss Henderson. I missed ya, sweetheart.”

You haven’t seen the man in two years, having been fourteen when he left Joyce and the kids. Since then he’s only aged horribly, his eyes slightly yellowed and his beer gut now more prominent. Clearly he still prefers alcohol over human company. Figures.

“Can’t say the same about you.” Your shoulder hits his as you walk in and he lets out an annoyed huff.

The man follows you but you pay him no attention. Instead you head straight towards Joyce and the second she sees you she runs into your arms; you only have a few seconds to place down the cookies before she’s in your arms.

“Y/N! You’re here!” She squeezes you tight and you melt into her embrace. She’s always given the best hugs whenever you’ve needed the comfort, but now it’s your turn to be the one offering the support.

“Of course, Mrs. Byers. Who else will make sure Jonathan is ready on time?” You mean for it to be a joke, but the way that Joyce’s eyes harden tells you that the funeral is a sore topic for her. She still doesn’t believe that Will is dead and it breaks your fucking heart that you can’t tell her she’s right.

Joyce wipes away a tear before pulling away. She goes to say something before seeing the tin of cookies on the counter; she immediately pulls you into another hug. “Oatmeal raisin,”

“They’re your favorite.”

“And Will’s.”

“And Will’s favorite. You know I gotta take care of my Byers.” You whisper into her ear, feeling Lonnie’s eyes on you during the exchange. You have to bite back your tongue, though his presence always makes you feel a type of anger that’s normally foreign to you.

Joyce pulls away and you know it’s taking everything in her to give you a smile. “You’re too good, sweetie,” she tucks a loose strand of hair that came out of its braid. “Jonathan’s in his room.”

You grab her hand and give it a squeeze, trying to convey just how much you love and admire her into a simple gesture, before letting go and walking over to Jonathan’s door.

He’s struggling with his tie when you let yourself in. He’s dressed in the only nice white button down he owns, something he bought for his aunt’s funeral a few years ago that now hardly fits. You can tell that he’s getting frustrated with the tie, so you walk over and help.

“Here, let me,” you wrap your fingers around the piece of cloth and quickly fashion it into a tie. The two of you don’t talk while you fix the clothing and you know that today will be a wordless day with Jonathan.

When you’ve finished, you begin to pull away before he places his hands around yours. He cups your hands at the base of his neck as they rest against his collarbones; your fingers are still wrapped around his tie. He squeezes your hands and brings them to his lips and kisses your knuckles so softly that you feel all the love within you simmer.

You know he’s only trying to express his gratitude for you but the butterflies in your stomach make you feel faint.

You’d do anything for him.

–

The funeral has a surprising turnout, not because you ever doubted Will’s incredible ability to be loved by anyone he meets, but because you see faces in the crowd who you’ve never seen before.

You stand behind Jonathan during the funeral with your hand on his shoulder as he sits with his family in a weak attempt to provide comfort during the service. It’s really fucking bleak. Your other hand is on Dustin’s shoulder as he stands next to you while Mike and Lucas are to the right of him.

Your mother is in the back of the crowd having known she’d cry the entire service, and faintly you can hear her blow her nose into a tissue and sniffle.

The pastor drones on for a while about how a tragedy like this won’t separate everyone from God’s love, but if attending the funeral for a twelve year old boy is how God shows his love then you want no part in it. Joyce sits stoic alongside Lonnie, Jonathan hasn’t moved at all since the service began; they’re a family brought together by grief. This isn’t love.

“Just wait until we tell Will that Jennifer Hayes was crying at his funeral,” Dustin snickers, effectively breaking you from your thoughts. You hit his shoulder and shush him as Mrs. Wheeler reminds the boys to be quiet. You flash her an apologetic smile for your brother’s actions.

You know how firmly the boys believe Will is alive and you honestly can’t say you don’t think so as well, but nothing is certain. Even if he’s alive there’s no way you guys can get to wherever he is; you wish the boys would use some caution with how quickly they’re building their hopes up.

After the service you walk up to Will’s grave and bend down. You bring one of the yellow roses from the funeral director up to your lips and whisper, “If you’re out there little bee, please, come home.”

Before dropping the rose in you give it a gentle kiss, inhaling its sweet scent and watching as it falls down onto his coffin. Jonathan finds you there crouched down and sees the rose right as it lands. He doesn’t say anything, he just grabs your hand and helps you stand up to bring you over to where Nancy is waiting a couple yards away.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You don’t have it in you to do anything other than wave at the girl, but she seems to understand and gives you a sympathetic smile.

Soon the three of you are settled on the ground with your backs against an old rickety fence behind some tombstones. Jonathan is in the middle of you and Nancy and you rest your head against his shoulder, already exhausted from the day. It’s not the coziest spot to be sitting, but at least you’re away from prying eyes.

Once you’re seated, Jonathan finally talks for the first time today. “Alright, I already told you this over the phone last night bug, but Nancy was right. After we redeveloped the photo there’s definitely some kind of figure behind Barb, and we thought maybe if my mom has been right all along about some monster-”

“Then she’s right about Will being alive.” You finish for him, having already come to the same conclusion yourself.

“And Barb has to be alive if Will is.” Nancy says, and there’s a spark of hope in her voice that surprises you. You’re ashamed to admit that you didn’t think her and Barb were that close, but seeing how worried she’s been for the girl makes you realize that you’d been a fool not to have seen it sooner. Barb was Nancy’s closest friend. You don’t know what you’d do if Jonathan ever disappeared like Barb did.

Jonathan pushes your head with his shoulder. “Anything you want to share with the class?”

You look between him and Nancy and try to decide how much you should tell them. While you’ve already told Jonathan a little bit about El, you’re not sure if you can trust the information with Nancy. However, seeing her urgency to find her friend leaves you feeling a bit safer disclosing the information to her.

“It started the night after Will disappeared…”

It takes a while to tell them everything, and while Jonathan butts in a few times to ask questions, Nancy remains silent and eagerly listens. She nods when she’s supposed to, engages with the story as if her life depends on it. You’re incredibly impressed by her intelligence and openness to the situation at hand. Had it been anyone else they would’ve scoffed at you and called you insane. But Nancy? She holds onto every word and trusts that what you’re saying is true.

You’re starting to admire her, as painful as it is to admit. But Nancy Wheeler is fucking brilliant, there’s no denying that.

When you’re finally done explaining El and the Upside Down, Nancy finally speaks. “Let me make sure I’m understanding correctly, you’ve been helping my brother harbor a girl with superpowers in my basement?”

Huh.

You hadn’t thought of it that way.

“Ya know, you make a good point.”

Thankfully she laughs and doesn’t seem too upset, which relieves you. You reassure her that they’re fine and that El is someone you trust, and Nancy seems to take comfort in your words. It’s not that you purposely hid the situation from her, but looking back you definitely could’ve used her help now that you know how cool she is.

As the two of you are laughing, Jonathan pulls out a piece of paper.

“What’s that?” You ask.

He shows you. “I printed out a map of Hawkins and drew x’s on every place we know for sure the monster has been.”

“Two questions: one, so we’re officially calling it the monster now? And two, why don’t you ever put in this much effort for school projects we do together?”

Jonathan flicks the paper in your face. “Funny. And yes, we’re calling it the monster now. Can you pay attention please?”

“Sorry,”

Nancy shuffles in closer and her head is practically on Jonathan’s shoulder as well (you’re choosing to ignore that) and she studies the paper and points to one of the x’s. “So that’s-”

“Steve’s house,” Jonathan points to another x, “and that’s the woods where they found Will’s bike and where Y/N last saw him,” the familiar feeling of guilt washes over you, “and that’s my house.”

Nancy reaches over Jonathan and grabs your hand, surprising you both. “You saw Will last?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, your mouth now suddenly dry.

“I’m sorry,” her tone is sincere.

“We should get back to the map…” You dodge, highly uncomfortable with Nancy’s comfort. You appreciate it, but you’ve never been good at accepting help from others.

“Right, sorry,” Nancy clears her throat. “The x’s, they’re all so close.”

Jonathan observes the interaction with slight confusion but decides not to say anything besides, “Yeah, exactly. I mean, it’s all within a mile or something. Whatever this thing is, it’s not traveling far.”

There’s a look in his eyes as he speaks, one of determination and disdain for whatever that thing is, and before you can tell him no, it’s Nancy who voices your concern first. “You want to go out there.”

Jonathan nods and you feel uneasy. “I trust you won’t try going alone again, right?” It’s a question, but he hears the underlying try and I’ll kill you hidden beneath your words.

“No, not this time… but we might not find anything.”

“I found something,” Nancy reminds him, which you nod at. She’s the only one out of the three of you who has seen the monster in person, and if you had to place any bets, she’s the one who will be able to figure out what the fuck to do with it.

Actually, what are you guys going to do?

“Do we, like, have a plan for after we’re done monster sightseeing? Or are we just going to take a look at it and call it a night?” You ask the two of them.

Nancy bites her lip and looks down, also unsure what exactly the three of you are supposed to do. It’s Jonathan who remains stone faced, and there’s a newfound sense of confidence within him that you’ve never seen when he boldly states, “We kill it.”

“Alright there tough guy,” you hit his chest with your hand and snort. “Sure, we kill it. Obviously.”

“Well, do you have any other ideas? For all we know, Mike and the others will be out there in those woods later looking for Will.”

“We don’t know that-”

“Bug, humor me, how did they find El again?”

You’re silent. He’s right, if you guys don’t go and find this monster before tonight then there’s a high chance the boys and El will find it themselves. Fuck.

“Nancy,” you say to the girl, “it seems like we’re now officially monster hunters.”

–

Of course Lonnie has a goddamn handgun just casually stored in his glove box.

You’re not entirely on board with this whole gun situation and apparently Nancy isn’t either, immediately questioning Jonathan when he picks the lock to get the gun.

“What, you want to find this thing and take another photo? Yell at it? Better yet, why doesn’t Y/N just round up the boys and El and have them take it down.”

“Okay, hey,” you point at Jonathan. “Out of line.”

He mumbles an apology under his breath while Nancy claims that this is all a terrible idea. You’re not sure where you fall in regards to what’s happening, but you’d say at the moment you’re a solid mix between Jonathan’s no time for nonsense mood and Nancy’s hey let’s slow down hesitation.

You kick a rock and watch as it dings against Lonnie’s car, which pleases you. “Oh it’s definitely a terrible idea, Nancy. Unfortunately it’s all we have going for us at the moment.”

Jonathan nods at your words. “She’s right, no one’s going to believe us if we tell them. You know that.”

“Your mom would.” Nancy responds, jutting her jaw out in defiance.

You cringe, unsure how Jonathan will respond to what she’s said. Joyce is a sore topic for him, he’s always been so protective of her.

“She’s been through enough,” he sighs, and you hum in agreement.

Nancy grows more frustrated. “She deserves to know!”

You step in between them. “Look, you’re right. Mrs. Byers deserves to know, but right now she isn’t well enough to handle the idea of her only remaining son actively seeking out a monster that may have taken her other son who could possibly be alive. If we’re wrong or Jonathan gets hurt, it might actually kill her.”

“Yeah, we’ll tell her when this thing is dead.” You note Jonathan’s word choice, saying “when” instead of “if”. In the four years you’ve been his friend, you’ve never seen him so self-assured before. You’d be proud of him if the circumstances weren’t so damn grim.

“What about the kids?” Nancy finally says after a few seconds of silence.

“They can’t get involved, I won’t let them.” You tell her and she nods as if expecting you’d say that.

She gestures over to the funeral home where the crowd of attendees are now gathered for the post burial service. “I know my brother, so you better go and tell him that they need to stay at our house while we deal with the monster. They like you better than they like me, they’ll listen to you if you explain what we’re doing.”

You’re flattered by her words, honestly. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas listening to you about staying put while you guys go monster hunting? They’d be out the door before you’d be even able to finish saying the phrase “monster hunting”. No way they’ll listen, and you’re about to say exactly that before catching the look Jonathan is giving you.

You groan at him. “You don’t actually believe they’ll listen to me, right? C’mon, you know those boys as well as I do. This is just a giant DnD game for them at this point.”

He shrugs, “It doesn’t hurt to try?”

Nancy gives you a hopeful look and bats her eyelashes at you, which, okay, shouldn’t work on you but does. Jonathan does the same, except instead of batting his eyelashes he winks at you and suddenly you’re very confused by the onslaught of emotions that wash over you.

“Ugh, fine. But when they show up in the woods later you guys are on your own!”

–

When you step inside the service hall, everyone is gathered into small groups talking amongst themselves. You scan the room for the kids and spot them across the room sitting at a table with Mr. Clark. He’s talking to them about something while holding a paper plate up. You’re not sure what exactly he’s saying to the boys, but they’re leaning in close to him and are listening intently.

This worries you.

You try to make your way over as quickly as you can, but being Jonathan’s best friend has some challenges. Every few steps you take you’re stopped by an extended family member of the Byers to ask how you are or a stranger stops to offer you their condolences because you’re close with the family. You do your best to make small talk and thank the people, but you don’t have time to say much else besides, “thank you” or “you were Will’s favorite great aunt”.

By the time you finally get to the table with Mr. Clark and the boys, the man has folded up the paper plate and stabs it with a pen. You really, really don’t want to know whatever the hell this man is explaining to the kids.

“You create a doorway,” he explains, holding up the plate and smiling at the boys.

Dustin looks enthralled. “Like a gate?”

“Sure, like a gate. But again, this is all-”

“Theoretical.” Lucas says, nodding his head.

A gate?

What are the odds the boys are talking about a gate to Disneyland?

You sigh, not liking the odds at all.

You slide yourself into Dustin’s chair and force your brother to share with you. He squeaks in surprise and you flash him a tight lipped smile, which causes him to gulp. He knows he’s been busted.

Mike scoffs at your arrival. “Gee, wonder why you’re here Y/N.”

“Go on, continue this conversation with Mr. Clark here. I wanna hear it.”

Mr. Clark looks at you uncertainly but Mike simply carries on with the conversation as if you aren’t even here. “But what if this gate already existed?”

“Well, if it did I think we’d know.”

You snort. “Wanna bet?”

Again the man looks at you uncertainly and clears his throat, uncomfortable by your presence. “What I mean to say is that it would disrupt gravity, the magnetic field, our environment.”

“So if there is a gate, it’d be really bad?” You ask, but you already know the answer.

“Oh, definitely. It might even swallow us up whole!”

You and the boys look around the table at one another, not at all liking what Mr. Clark is saying. Swallow you guys up whole? That’s not really something you’re interested in.

Mr. Clark sees your nervousness and shrugs. “Science is neat, but it’s not very forgiving.”

Silence falls upon the table.

Mr. Clark is such a peachy person.

“Well!” You throw your hands upon the table and the loud noise causes everyone to flinch. “Thank you so much for that lovely information, Mr. Clark. It was truly riveting, but would you mind giving me and the boys a second alone? I just, I want to make sure they’re doing okay after today.”

You bat your eyes at the man, something you never do, and he clears his throat and excuses himself. The second he’s gone you snap your finger in the boys’ faces. “Hey, listen up. Whatever you guys are planning? Don’t.”

As usual, Mike is the one who argues. “But-”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what we’re-”

“No.”

“Can you at least let me-”

“Sure,”

“Really?”

“No.”

Lucas and Dustin watch the interaction with slight pleasure, amused by your ability to shut Mike up, but when he turns to them for help they reluctantly give in.

“Y/N,” Dustin sighs, “honestly, how many times are we gonna do this whole ‘we’re not allowed but we’re going to do it anyways’ bit?”

You glare at your brother. “However many times it takes for you guys to finally listen.”

“Cool. Then we’ll expect you to bust down Mike’s door later tonight.”

“I’m not kidding,” you face all the kids and make sure they’re listening. “Whatever you’re trying to do, don’t. Jonathan and I-”

“You told Jonathan?” Mike exclaims but Lucas shushes him.

“We’re going to handle it, we already have a plan but whatever you do: stay out of the woods from here on out. We think… We think there’s a monster out there hiding. I just want to make sure you guys are safe.”

“Monster hunting?” Dustin’s eyes light up and you silently curse Jonathan and Nancy for even suggesting you do this in the first place.

“Technically… yes, but you guys absolutely have to stay put.”

They stare at you as if you’re insane.

“You do realize who you’re talking to, right?” Dustin asks.

You flick his head. “Yes, and I’m putting a lot of trust in you guys right now. I’ll let you guys do whatever you want so long as it doesn’t include the woods. Until you get an all clear from me, it’s off limits.”

Mike thinks this over. “Can we look for the gate then?”

You sigh. There’s no other way to appease them. “If you don’t go near the woods… then fine.”

The boys begin to cheer, which causes several funeral guests to stare at you with judgment. You realize now that this probably hadn’t been the right setting to have this conversation in. Oh well.

You don’t let the boys cheer for long. “However-”

“There she goes,” Lucas sinks into his seat and squeezes his eyes shut.

“I get full updates whenever I please. I don’t care if I have to track you guys down from the gates of hell itself, but I will find you and you will tell me everything. Deal?”

Lucas, Dustin, and Mike gather close together and duck their heads down so whisper to one another. You roll your eyes but wait for them to finish. When they’ve reached a decision, Mike interlocks his fingers and places his hands on the table. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

–

As soon as you’ve changed out of your funeral clothes and into a simple pair of jeans and a sweater, Jonathan arrives at your house. You kiss your mom’s cheek before leaving and shout over your shoulder, “Remember the deal, Dustin!”

You don’t quite catch what your brother responds with but you honestly don’t care enough as you run over to Jonathan’s car and hop into the passenger seat.

“You certainly didn’t waste any time getting here,” you say in lieu of a hello.

Jonathan shrugs. “No time to waste when it comes to monster hunting.”

“You do realize that we’re only scouting out the woods tonight, right?”

You, Jonathan, and Nancy had decided earlier to simply go and explore the woods for any clues of the monster and then figure out how, or even if, you can kill it.

“I know, but monster hunting sounds cooler.”

“Bless you, bee.”

The two of you get to the field in no time. Jonathan had been the one to suggest the spot a few yards behind his house for target practice and Nancy had agreed to bring a bat just in case you needed more protection.

And you?

You’re bringing the cans to serve as targets for shooting. Your family has never owned a gun and last time you checked, Dustin doesn’t play any sports, so all you can offer is your emptied recycling bin contents.

It doesn’t take long for you and Jonathan to set up the cans on top of the tree trunks before he begins shooting. Jonathan takes a deep breath and holds the gun up so it’s eye level and looks over at you. “Ready?”

You take a deep breath as well and prepare yourself, knowing it’s about to become loud. “Yeah, start shootin cowboy.”

The first shot hits a tree behind the can, nowhere near its intended target, and you wince. It’s looking like the monster might actually win at the rate Jonathan’s aim is going.

“It’s okay,” you tell your friend. “The tree looked at me funny, he had it coming.”

Jonathan snorts. “You’re laughing now, but I can’t exactly hunt a monster if I can’t even shoot it.”

“Maybe you could talk nicely to it?”

“And say what, exactly? ‘Hey, Mr. Monster, where are you hiding my brother?’”

You step closer to him so that you’re now side by side and you nudge his shoulder. “Hey, you never know. It could work.”

Jonathan readjusts his grip on the gun and aims it once more. He takes another shot, this time it lands a bit closer to the can, but not by much. He lets out an agitated, “Fuck!”

He tries shooting again and again but each shot is as unpredictable as the last. After his sixth round of firing you can see how tense his shoulders are and the way he’s clenching his fists against the weapon. You remember how he acted earlier today, the newfound anger and resentment within Jonathan that had originally impressed you. Now it only frightens you.

When he goes to re-aim the gun for the seventh time, you grab at his hand and stop him.

“Bug, what are you-”

“Let’s go for a walk.”

Jonathan looks at you like you’re crazy but you simply take the gun from his hands, click the safety back on, and then walk over to the tree stumps to rest it against one of them. When you’re done you walk back over to the boy and interlock your fingers with his to drag him along.

There’s not a whole bunch of room in the clearing for a walk per say, but there’s enough to go a few laps around for Jonathan to take a breather. You’re not sure exactly what’s going on with him but a walk has never hurt anyone.

Jonathan’s silent the first lap around. You’re content with this and you admire the fall weather and enjoy the slight warmth from the sun as it kisses your face. When you’re on the third lap you decide to ask a question that’s been on your mind since yesterday when Nancy showed up at the funeral home.

“Do you really believe Will is alive?”

Jonathan thinks the question over for a moment, and as he’s lost in thought you notice that he begins gently swinging your hands back and forth absentmindedly. “I can still feel him.”

“Feel him?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy but…”

“No, I think I get it. I mean, I’d be able to feel if something bad happened to Dustin. I know I’d be able to, even if there’s not necessarily a science behind it. It’s like there’s a lifeline connecting us, like some unspoken sibling thread that neither one of us can sever.”

“A sibling thread?” Jonathan asks, a slight laugh accompanying his question.

“Oh, you know what I mean, bee.”

“No, no. I wanna hear all about this thread theory of yours.”

Jonathan’s bright mood is back, reminiscent of the boy you once believed you knew better than you knew yourself, so you entertain his teasing if only to sustain his light a little longer. “If I explain this theory you have to promise not to laugh at me.”

“I promise,” he says and he gives your hand a light squeeze.

“Alright, but if you decide I’m insane after this, just know that you legally cannot leave me. You signed a contract.”

“Oh, did I?”

“You sure did, bee. Anyways, back to me,” a slight breeze surrounds you for a moment and you let the crisp air fill your lungs. “I have this theory that we’re all connected to each other in some way by different threads. Some threads are older than others, stronger, or maybe even more rigid, but they’re there. Whether it’s a thread between you and your family, the love of your life, or a stranger you happen to pass on the street one day, none of it happens by accident.”

“The threads are the reason it all happens?”

“Not necessarily, but yeah. To put it simply, I guess you could say that.”

“So, for our thread,” Jonathan stops walking and tugs at you to stop as well. “After everything we’ve been through, all that we’ve done for one another, what thread would you say our’s is?”

His question catches you off guard; you can hear your heart beating within your chest. There’s so many things you wish you could tell him.

Our thread is one of romance, of lovers, of soulmates, even.

The feelings build within you and the words threaten to spill out. The November sun is beginning to set and everything is golden in its light and Jonathan is a part of it all. His brown eyes are like warm honey on a cold winter morning and his hair is slightly ruffled from the wind that leaves his cheeks flushed and rosy.

“Our thread,” your voice catches in your throat for a moment. “You know what our thread is, bee.”

He pulls you closer to him and in this moment all you can focus on are the slight freckles that dot across his face and neck. “Do I?”

Jonathan has never, ever looked at you like this before. There’s an intensity within his eyes that frightens you and leaves you feeling bare before him. Does he know? Has he figured it all out?

“I…” You can’t form the words you want to say; the three words that have been weighing upon you feel even heavier than before. They’re thick on your tongue, syrupy and dense and you feel as if you can’t breathe.

“Y/N?” He whispers, but you can only shake your head.

It’s too much. It’s all too much.

And then suddenly Jonathan leans in.

Maybe you’re imagining it.

Maybe you’re delirious after almost a week of sleepless nights and exhausting encounters.

Or maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way about you.

You lean in as well and allow yourself to close your eyes; you believe that just this once you can be selfish and accept more than you may deserve.

“Hey! Guys!”

Nancy’s shout causes you and Jonathan to spring apart.

You want to scream.

Of course it’s Nancy fucking Wheeler.

Jonathan drops your hand and waves the girl over while you stand there, trying to collect yourself. As she walks over, you have just enough pride left over to say, “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

The question is one Jonathan isn’t expecting. He steps back a bit, now even more aware of the close proximity the two of you had only seconds ago. “Of course I do, bug. You’re my best friend.”

Best friend.

The words hurt more than they should, really.

“Right. Best friend, ha.” You step even further away from Jonathan, which he raises his eyebrows at.

“Did I miss something or…?”

If you had the time, you’d ask him why he wanted to know about the thread between the two of you. Why he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in the entire room. Why, just minutes ago, he leaned in as if to kiss you.

But Nancy is now only a couple feet away and it wouldn’t be fair to ask her to give the two of you some privacy. You spot the bat in her hand and it serves as a reminder of what the three of you are here for in the first place.

Will, Barb, the monster.

“No, of course not,” you clear your throat and greet Nancy as she arrives. “Hey, Nancy.”

She smiles at you and then says hello to Jonathan. “Hey, where’s the gun?”

You point over to the cans and the tree stumps. “Over there, we just wanted to go for a little walk after shooting a few rounds.”

Nancy nods and walks over to inspect the undamaged cans. “You said you already shot a few rounds?”

Jonathan ducks his head down. “Yeah, well. It’s not as easy as it looks in the movies.”

“Y/N, did you try shooting?”

“Pfft, I’m definitely not a weapons kind of girl. I prefer to use my crippling good looks instead.”

While you and Nancy talk, Jonathan walks back over to the gun and reloads it. He motions for the two of you to step back and he shoots a few more times. Not once does he hit the can. You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh.

“You’re awful at this, bee.”

“Yeah,” Nancy agrees.

Jonathan looks over at her. “Have you ever shot a gun before?”

She scoffs. “Have you met my parents?”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Wheeler seems like the type to have a hidden gun.” You say, and Nancy waves you off.

“Well, I haven’t shot one since I was ten. My dad took me hunting on my birthday and made me kill a rabbit.” Jonathan’s words make you frown. Every day he gives you another reason to hate Lonnie.

Nancy sympathizes with Jonathan and the two of them fall into an easy banter that you’ve never seen before with him. He’s comfortable around her in a way that makes your stomach twist. He tells her about his parents and how they may have loved each other at one point but now no longer do. He’s opening up to her after only a few days of really knowing her.

Lovely.

Nancy shares some details about her own family and how she believes her parents never loved each other, which you can relate to. You watch as Jonathan hands her the gun as she explains how her mom had been younger than her father. “He had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So, they bought a nice house at the end of a cul-de-sac and started their nuclear family.”

“Isn’t it funny how the fathers never seem to suffer the same fate as the mothers?” You ask, and Nancy looks over at you in confusion, so you explain further. “My own parents, they were like yours except the moment my mom was no longer young, my dad left. Found a newer and cheaper model back home in Virginia.”

“I didn’t know that, I’m sorry Y/N.”

You shrug. “It’s not like I go and advertise it. Besides, he was an asshole anyways and my mom is better off without him. She’s the sweetest woman in the world who was forced to run back to her family in Hawkins. Nuclear families aren’t all they’re cracked out to be.”

Jonathan ruffles your hair to get you to laugh, which he succeeds in doing. “Screw that.”

Nancy raises the gun to eye level and closes one of her eyes, her beautiful face now scrunched in concentration. “Yeah, screw that.”

And with that, she shoots a perfectly aimed shot and knocks the can off the stump. You and Jonathan look at her, stunned, but she can only laugh.

“Damn, Jonathan. Remind me to never piss Nancy off.” You say, still staring at the fallen can.

Only he doesn’t hear what you’ve said because he’s too busy staring at Nancy. You can tell he’s impressed by her hidden shooting talent and the way she holds herself with such confidence. His eyes shine as he stares at her and he almost seems to come to life whenever she looks back at him.

Jonathan looks at Nancy and you know he sees what everyone in Hawkins sees: a beautiful, fierce, and incredible girl.

Nancy Wheeler, the perfect enigma.

Suddenly it clicks.

Jonathan is in love with her, or at least he’s beginning to fall in love with her.

You want to hate her. Afterall, she already has Harrington head over heels for her, and yet you can’t blame either one of the boys. She’s perfect and brilliant and everything you’re not. You’d fall in love with her too if you weren’t already in love with someone else.

You watch as Nancy and Jonathan become lost in their own little world, him helping her reload the gun as she flashes him a shy smile, and you no longer exist near their presence. It feels like a fucking stab to your already open wound of a heart. You watch the way he ducks his head down whenever she looks at him and the way she stares at him when he isn’t looking.

Nancy shoots a few more rounds and each shot feels like a hammer coming down onto your own coffin. Each time Jonathan looks at her you feel another nail enter.

Clearly there’s no room for you here.

Which is fucking ironic given that you’re in a giant field outside.

You reach for Jonathan’s hand and tug him forward. He gives you a look as if asking is everything okay? and you wish more than ever that things were different between the two of you. You give him a soft shake of the head. “I can feel a headache coming on and I just remembered that I have a shift tonight, so I should get going.”

He frowns. “But what about the monster? We can’t look for him without you.”

“You’ll be fine without me,” to your horror you can feel tears forming, which you quickly wipe away before Jonathan can notice. “I doubt I’d be any help, anyways. I suck with guns. Nancy’s the professional here.”

“I mean, I guess, but…” He looks over at Nancy, who is busy firing the gun and hitting every target she aims for, before pulling you even closer to him. “Are we okay? I feel like, I don’t know… like I’m losing you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. He could never, ever lose you, but if you don’t leave now then you’re afraid that maybe you’ll lose yourself.

“Don’t be silly, bee. You’re not losing me, no matter how much you may want me to.” You try to tease him, but your heart isn’t in it.

“You didn’t answer my question, Y/N. Are we okay?” He’s looking at you with so much adoration and concern in his eyes that it almost makes you sick.

“Of course we are. I promise. I think it’s all just catching up to me, if I’m being honest. Between finding Will and tracking down my own brother, I think this monster hunting business may break me.”

Jonathan eyes you for a moment as if to try and catch you in a lie, but while you’re only telling him this as an excuse to get away from him and Nancy, it’s not technically a lie. You are exhausted. Plus, you really do have a shift.

The boy scans your face once more before deciding that you’re telling the truth. You know he suspects there’s something else behind your words, but thankfully he doesn’t pry. “Let me tell Nance that I’m driving you home,”

And there it is again.

Nance.

The nickname is like a punch to your gut and only solidifies that you should go. “It’s okay, bee. It’s still nice out, figured I’d walk home and get some sun before winter officially takes over Hawkins.”

“You can’t expect me to let you walk alone now that we know there’s a monster out there taking people, bug.”

You kiss his cheek, letting your lips linger for a little longer than necessary. “I’ll be careful, I promise. Stay with Nancy and call me tonight after you guys are done scouting around. We’ll figure out where to go from there. Okay?”

You don’t give Jonathan time to argue because you pull away and inform Nancy of your departure. She also frowns at the idea but has already learned that you’re not one to be told what to do. She understands this aspect of you, and you understand it within her as well, so she wishes you goodbye and tells you to stay safe before going back to shooting.

As you leave, you feel Jonathan’s eyes follow after you.

–

The walk ends up being more than enough to clear your head. You haven’t had any time to be alone in god knows how long, so it’s nice to have some time to just think and enjoy the quiet. There’s a lot you need to think about, but at the very forefront of your concerns are Will and El. You still have no idea how they’re connected or how the monster comes into play.

Then there’s Steve, oddly enough.

You’re not really sure why he’s in the midst of your thoughts, but there he is. Smiling at you and laughing at your jokes and telling you that you’re pretty as he instills a carefree sense within you that feels foreign to enjoy.

As his words ring through your head, you find your thoughts drifting towards Jonathan and the way he holds your hand every time you’re worried about something and the way he kisses your hair after a particularly hard day.

You’re not sure why the two boys almost seem to clash within your mind, but you don’t have time to look into it. Your shift starts soon and god knows how long your coworker Alex can survive on his own if you’re late.

Work is slow as usual tonight, but you find the downtime a pleasant relief. It gives you the opportunity to skim some new books that shipped in and catch up on some Spidey storylines. In between stocking books and arranging comic displays you find yourself wondering just how true to his word Dustin stayed earlier.

Like hell those kids really stayed out of the woods.

Your question is answered as soon as you get home and find your brother crying in his room. Panic immediately swells within your chest and you run over to him.

“What’s wrong?” You check Dustin’s body for any sign of injury and he lets you as he cries, too upset to wave you away. When you’re assured that he’s okay, you feel your heartbeat calm down again.

Christ, everytime you see this kid he takes ten damn years off of your life.

You pull a chair from his desk and sit in front of him. “Dustin, do we need to have another code blue?”

“Maybe,” Dustin sniffles, wiping away a few tears.

“Okay, then code blue. What happened? Is everyone okay? Is it El?” At the mention of the girl’s name, Dustin flinches. Your blood runs cold. “Dustin, what happened with El?”

“You won’t yell at me?”

You smooth down his always wild hair. “Never during code blue. Please talk to me, bud.”

Dustin explains how he and the group had gone looking for the gate like they told you they would. He explained how they’d followed the train tracks throughout Hawkins for what seemed like hours.

“The train tracks that go through the same woods I told you not to go in?”

“Like hell we were gonna listen to you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

This gets Dustin to laugh a bit, which you’re relieved to see, before he continues his story. When he reveals El’s weird behavior and the way she seemed to be hiding something from them, you feel dread creep in. “Did she… Did she do something to prevent you guys from finding the gate?”

“She used her powers to mess with the compass. Lucas found the blood on her jacket.”

You sense that there’s more. “And then?”

“Mike and Lucas… they-they started fighting.” Dustin’s voice breaks, “they started really going at it, and I tried to stop them. I swear I tried, Y/N!”

“Shh,” you reach for his hand to try and calm him down. “I know you did, but I also know how Mike can get when he’s protective of someone and I know that Lucas isn’t El’s biggest fan. It was a recipe for disaster.”

Dustin snorts, “No kidding.” Then his face darkens once more, “but they wouldn’t listen, and that’s when El screamed.”

“She screamed?”

“I think she was overwhelmed, but she used her powers on Lucas and flung him across the yard and he hit his head pretty hard…”

“She what-”

“She didn’t mean to! She looked really upset after, and Lucas was fine after he woke up-”

“He was knocked unconscious?”

“And then he stormed off and El ran off. We searched for her, but…”

You stare at your brother in shock. That definitely hadn’t been what you were expecting. El never struck you as a violent girl, but she knocked Lucas out with her mind. Sure, she may have been trying to break up the fight, but you’re willing to bet that she lost control for a moment and Lucas ended up getting hurt as a result.

Maybe you don’t want superpowers.

“Y/N, have I lost all my friends?” Dustin asks.

You shush him once more. “No, of course not. You three boys have always been so drastically different from one another, and this week has been one from pure hell. It makes sense that Lucas and Mike finally snapped, but I promise you that they’ll bounce back eventually.”

“And El?”

“I’m not sure what to make of her,” you admit. “She isn’t violent, I know she’s not. But we also clearly don’t know her as well as we think we do. I just, I need you to be careful around her, okay? Fight for her, defend her like you would for the boys, but be cautious as well.”

“Cautious, got it.” He cocks his head at you, “but what about Lucas and Mike? They’re still friends, right?”

“Of course they are. Just… sometimes friendship can be hard, but it’s almost always worth fighting for. It’s rare to find friends as loyal as Mike or as brave as Lucas or even as sincere as Will. Yet look at you guys, all together; you’re all incredibly lucky to have one another.”

“Lucky like you and Jonathan?” Dustin asks, a sly glint in his eyes.

You smile, even if he’s teasing you. “Yeah, like me and Jonathan.”

Dustin returns your smile and you squeeze his hand. “Anyways, I say give Lucas some time to calm down. I think he was scared, more than anything. Tomorrow you can try to talk to him again.”

Your brother nods at your words and he seems better than he did when you first started the conversation, so you open your arms wide and engulf him into a hug.

“Code blue concluded, I guess.” Dustin mumbles against your chest, which causes the two of you to laugh.

–

After your talk with Dustin, you head back to your room and wait for Jonathan to call. You glance at the clock and figure that maybe him and Nancy were still out scouting for clues, so you busy yourself with some homework.

When it nears ten at night and the phone still hasn’t rung, you sigh and reach over for the phone on your desk. You dial Jonathan’s number and hope he simply forgot to call, but when no one answers after your fifth time calling: you begin to worry.

Ya know, maybe it wasn’t your best idea letting him and Nancy go off alone with a monster on the loose.

You find yourself frantically biking to the Wheeler’s house before you can even think about it. The night blurs past you and as you walk up their driveway and try to rest your bike against their mailbox, a familiar BMW parks next to you.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this, Henderson.” Steve says as he sends you a wink.

You almost greet the boy before Tommy’s head pops out from the passenger side window. “Hey good lookin.”

You hear Carol berate him and the two begin to bicker as Steve gets out of the car.

Great. He brought the idiots.

Steve walks over and takes your bike from your hands. After a couple seconds of repositioning and balancing, he finally manages to get the bike to stay upright. “Tada!”

“I almost had it,” you glare at him.

“Sure ya did.”

Steve’s presence is frustrating as always, but you spot Jonathan’s car parked down the street and Carol’s shrill voice becomes increasingly irritating. You don’t have time for this right now. “What are you doing here, Harrington?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” When you glare at him, he finally says, “Nancy promised she’d call me but hasn’t, so I wanted to check on her.”

His sincerity is why you say, “I’m here for…” You realize you can’t necessarily tell Steve about Jonathan possibly being here. You have a feeling it wouldn’t end well, but you’re also not keen on lying to the boy. You’re already keeping secrets from practically everyone in your life; you don’t want to add Steve to the list. Not when he doesn’t deserve it.

“I’m looking for Jonathan,” you confess, worried about Steve’s reaction.

He frowns. “Why would Byers be here?”

“Him and Nancy have this… thing for english. Due tomorrow. A big thing. Like, huge. So they’re working on it together. In the house. Where Nancy lives. Here.” You stumble over your words, more nervous than usual, but you weren’t expecting Steve to be here or that you’d need a cover story.

“Uh huh,” something almost aggressive flickers across Steve’s face and you silently curse to yourself. You said the wrong thing.

“Funny, Nancy told me she was only helping Byers for the funeral.”

Shit.

Tommy and Carol watch from the car, obviously amused by the whole situation.

“Right! She was, now she’s working on an assignment with him.” Technically not a lie, you’re just omitting the fact that the assignment in question is monster hunting.

“You’re really bad at lying, Henderson.” Steve walks past you, now over the conversation, and you struggle to keep up. You try to block his path, assuming that he’ll use the front door, but as you near the front step he side steps you and starts heading towards the bushes.

“What are you doing?” You whisper loudly, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself.

Steve ignores your whispered yelling and jumps on top of the radiator. Once he’s up, he begins to pull himself over the overhang and up onto the roof. There’s a window just above the ledge with a light on, which you presume to be Nancy’s room due to the practiced ease in which Steve scaled the house.

You don’t try to climb up after him in fear that you’ll only end up embarrassing yourself. “Ya know, Mrs. Wheeler loves me, I could’ve just knocked on the door.”

Steve peers down at you, an easygoing smile now back on his face. “Relax, this is quicker. Besides, you gotta admit it was impressive to watch.”

Again he winks at you and you feel your cheeks flush. He’s right, it had been impressive to watch; he had made it look so easy. While you struggle to come up with a witty retort, Steve almost knocks on Nancy’s window before his smile drops.

You notice the way his face hardens. “Steve?”

He doesn’t respond, which only concerns you more. You begin to think about the millions of possibilities surrounding Nancy, Jonathan, and monster hunting; fear creeps in. “Is Nancy there? Is she okay?”

“Of course you’d be worried about Nancy right now,” Steve laughs bitterly. You frown at his words, unsure what they mean, but before you can ask anything else Steve angrily climbs back down.

“Steve, what-” He pushes past you in a frenzied hurry to get to his car, but you grab his jacket and force him to stop. “Answer me! Is Nancy okay? Was Jonathan with her?”

Steve whips around and sneers at you. “Why do you even care about them? About him?”

“Because we’re friends,” you say, and for the first time you really mean it. Nancy has become someone you’d call a friend.

Another cruel laugh escapes Steve’s lips. “Friends, huh? Yeah, those two looked real fucking cozy in her bed.”

A wave of nausea hits you.

“W-what?” You drop your hand and release his jacket.

“It’s incredible, really. Byers has some fucking nerve.” Steve runs a hand through his hair in agitation and begins to pace. You’re too numb to stop him. “I mean, look at you! He has everything he could possibly want, but he decides to go after my girlfriend.”

“It’s not like that-”

“Did he tell you they’d be in her room, alone in her bed, underneath her blanket?”

More nausea hits you. “No,”

They were supposed to look for any signs of the monster in the woods. That’s all he told me, you think.

“So he’s a liar, too.” Steve scoffs, “you deserve better, Y/N.”

And with that, he heads back to his car and drives away, leaving you standing alone once more in the Wheeler’s driveway. You get a sense of deja-vu, watching Steve’s BMW descend down the street, but only this time there’s no warmth fluttering within your stomach as he leaves.

All you feel is nausea.

You don’t remember the bike ride home; you’re not sure how you even made it back safely without crashing into anything. All you remember is that you cried the entire way.

You’ve lost Jonathan, there’s no denying that now. He’s Nancy’s, wholly and truly, he’s hers.

He was never yours in the first place, you remind yourself.

But if he was never yours in the first place, then why does it feel like you were almost something?

No.

You don’t want to think about it that way.

Yours or not, you can’t afford to lose Jonathan.

Something or everything, you’ll take whatever you can when it comes to him.

Everything, anything, nothing. Whatever he gives you, you know you’ll cling onto it with all that’s within you.

But your friendship with Jonathan is too precious to lose, too meaningful to let stupid feelings ruin it. You refuse to let anything come between your friendship with him, and you swear to yourself to shove everything down. Every hurt feeling, all the pain stabbing within your chest, you force it all down to focus on finding Will.

He’s all that matters right now, even if it feels like the thread connecting you to Jonathan has begun to wither.

Will has to come first.

You have to find him, something good and lovely has to come from this. You can’t let this all be for nothing.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

⌑ taglist - @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @myeclispedsun @innercreationflower @juhdoche

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #jonathan the man that u are ....#and steve my beloved #cannot wait to see how yall react to the field scene i feel like an evil villain

414 notes · View notes

munivrse · 11 months

Text

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Too close

closeted bada, bf-to-ex howl, secret gf y/n.

c/w: angst. angry howl, homophobia, minor and very, very minor physical harm done to bada. closeted bada, out and proud reader. its alooooot of angst. some comfort at the end though so don't worry!

a/n: the characters depicted are not related nor based off of their personalities in real life. this is purely fiction. also shout out to @wrosie-writes. they wanted to see anti howl fic. they ask, they shall receive. enjoy!

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"are you okay?"

bada hears howl, but she's more concerned with the contents on her phone than she is with him.

"i'm fine." bada tries to make it sound as believable as possible.

“i don’t get you.” howl glares at her, eyes boring into the back of her head.

“...what are you talking about?”

“you and y/n. you’re just really close with her. you confide in her, you trust her. it kind of pisses me off if i’m being honest.”

bada moves her focus from the tv to howl who stands behind the couch she sits on. she looks at him incredulously. why is he bringing this up now?

“what prompted this?”

“you. i know you’re texting her right now.”

bada challenges him, “and if i am?”

howl rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. he was so fucking fed up with you. every chance you got, you were with howl and bada. howl felt like you were intruding all the time, meanwhile, bada told you to not be a stranger. he was angry.

“i want you to stop talking to her.”

bada fully turns around and blinks up at him, “what?”

howl’s eyes narrow, “you heard me. stop talking to her.”

bada shakes her head, “i shouldn’t have to choose. don’t make me choose.”

howl stands firm and bada almost caves. a part of her loves howl. another part of her loves you, deeply.

bada stands up and tries to walk around him. what the fuck was she supposed to do? why was he putting her in this impossible position?

“lets go to bed and talk about this in the morning. please.”

bada continues walking towards their shared bedroom but howl stops her. he grabs hold of her wrist and pulls, “don’t walk away from me. you’re avoiding this.”

she wrenches her hand out of his grip and rubs at her wrist. he’d never done that before and it hurt. it hurt.

“i just don’t want to talk about it right now.”

howl frowns and tries to grab at her again but bada dodges his advancement toward her. she shifts to the other side of the island in their kitchen.

“i dont like this.”

she felt scared. small.

howl raises his voice, “you know what i don’t like? watching my girlfriend be mentally intimate with another person. you’re not even fucking her, you just care too much about her. you pour yourself into her instead of me. god, bada, we havent had sex in weeks! you barely let me hold your hand. Is it y/n? is she forcing you to do something you don’t want to do?”

bada’s jaw drops momentarily. but her shock is replaced with anger and frustration. distress and confusion. “what did you mean by that last part?” she leans forward and places her hands on the surface in front of her.

“you heard me. i know y/n likes women. is she coming on to you? you know i don’t like that and i can make her stop if you want me to. just say the words.”

bada shakes her head, confusion still drawn on her face, “you can make her stop? how? and what do you think it is that she could possibly be doing? what’s so wrong with her liking women?”

howl puts his head in his hands. he couldn’t believe how dense bada was acting. it’s like she didnt understand that-

“i don’t like that about her. you know that doesn’t sit right with me. i can take care of it. of her.”

fear pools in the bottom of bada’s stomach. she gets nauseous and thinks carefully about her next words as they mean alot for your own personal safety. she did not want to compromise that. she… she did not want to compromise herself either. she tries to act passive and pulls out her phone. she sends you a quick “sos” and sets her phone on the counter.

“you don’t need to take care of anything. stop worrying about it. about me. about her. everything is fine. i’m tired baby, can we please just let this go for the night?”

she glances down as she sees the texts coming in from you.

are you okay?

please answer me.

are you at howls?

its late, i need to know if you’re safe

i see your location, i’m on the way

*y/n has shared their location with you*

i’ll be there in 10 minutes. if it’s howl messing with you again, i swear to god i’ll take that fucker out tonight.

howl rounds the corner of the island and takes steady strides to bada and she stumbles back, praying that you show up sooner rather than later.

“you don’t see how she’s fucking with your head? she doesn’t love you like i do, bada.” howl reaches a hand up to bada’s face.

bada shakes in fear, its creeping up her spine and she can feel his breath on her face. he’s too close.

he’s too brave.

bada takes his hand in hers and places it back down by his side,

“you don’t love me howl. I’m something for you to show off like a trophy to your friends. I have no real meaning to you. you dress me up and make me out to be whoever you want me to be, but i’m not her. I’m not the girl you want me to be so desperately.”

bada straightens up for the first time in a couple months and she laughs as she realizes - her and howl stand at the same height. it makes her chuckle in his face. she advances towards him instead and now, the tables turn. howl looks almost… disturbed? shocked? he’d never seen bada be so… firm. so confident.

“y/n lets me be myself. fully. she accepts every part of me without question. her love is unconditional with no limit. no ceiling. there are no dealbreakers- she just loves me. howl i cant even wear sweatshirts around you without you saying i’m not being feminine enough. i’m not pretty enough. but y/n? it doesn’t matter what the fuck i have on because its me. and she loves me regardless.”

bada’s phone dings again and as she looks down at it, its you.

i’m parked, i’m in the elevator going to your floor now

bada walks around howl to their bedroom, he follows.

“where do you think you’re going?” howl crosses his arms.

bada grabs her emergency bag, only needing a couple items since you already had half of her wardrobe at your apartment. “i’m going out. i’m not sure when i’ll be back.”

she exits the bedroom and makes her way to the door,

“and let me just tell you this, howl. If it came between you and y/n, i will always choose y/n. without question.”

and as if on cue, the doorbell rings. bada swings the door open to reveal you in a pair of sweatpants and one of her sweatshirts draped on your body. bada tries her best to shield howl from your sight and exit as swiftly as she possibly can given the situation, but howl grabs her arm and yanks. you hear bada hiss, and as soon as you lay eyes on howl, you feel rage encompass your entire being. you step into the door and remove his hand from her arm, pulling bada from out of the door frame and behind you.

“how dare you lay your fucking hands on her? are you kidding me?” you take a step forward but bada pulls you back and intertwines her hand with your own, “let’s go y/n. please”

howl’s body is slumped, insecurity swallowing him whole. you can't help but laugh at him. he was such a fucking idiot. you turn around and scan bada for any harm, luckily, she seems fine other than being a little shaken up. you lean up to give her a kiss on her cheek and take one last look at howl. pathetic. you both turn to walk away and howl hopes bada turns around to look at him, show any waver of uncertainty. but she never looks back, she just moves forward. with you.

──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

your fingers twirl through bada’s hair. she’d changed into comfy clothes once you guys got home and now she’s sprawled out on top of you, head laying on your chest.

“you okay?” your hand pushes the hair out of her face. you feel her nod. she shifts so that her head is resting upright.

“i am now.” she grins up to you, pressing her lips against your own. she really meant it this time.

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #bada lee smut #smut #bada x reader #swf 2 #fuck howl #not irl #but still fuck depicted howl #swf 2 x reader #lee bada x reader #lee bada #street woman fighter x reader

661 notes · View notes

atxxzist · 6 months

Text

sweetest lies | c.s (03)

prev // series m.list

pairing: choi san x f!reader

word count: 7.7k

warning: none but lmk

you didn't want to go home because you knew that you'd have to face your sister.

look her in the eyes and see those very lips that yunho kissed and those hands that he probably held on more than one occasions, the wound still too fresh that it all still hurts.

but you didn't think you'd run smack into her before you could even pass the entrance, stopping in your steps immediately with surprised eyes similar to hers, the both of you swallowing down the same time as the air turn an awkward one.

you're about to just walk past her, the day from work leaving you tired and not in the mood for another long conversation about the topic, when your sister musters up the courage to let out a soft, "can we please talk?"

the tone aggravating you more than anything; how she can still sound so sweet and worried after what she's put you through.

you huff and merely roll your eyes, absolutely refusing to look at her although you know it's silly and petty--you being the older one but holding a grudge like no other, so much more less mature than her.

"i don't know what else is there to talk about," you respond, trying your very best to sound annoyed.

but she continues to make you feel worse with an even sweeter tone, "i'm sorry. i really am." and you can already picture the pearls in her eyes and pout on her lips despite still facing the other way.

"i know you like yunho. i do. but..." he's too handsome and charming; too sweet and kind that she also can't help but fall for him. she would never intend to steal him from you if he didn't return the sentiment.

"but he likes you too," you finish for her, something shifting in you that makes you finally look her in the eyes. "i get it. what am i gonna do? you're two grown consenting adults so i'll get over it."

you didn't even think such words could ever come out your mouth, but for the first time sounding surprisingly selfless because maybe talking to san did helped out a little.

there's a silence after that you're sure has marked the end of the topic, striving a step forward when her voice stops you again.

"we're planning on telling mom and dad and yunho's parents over dinner..." she says, delivery timid like she's just the slightest scared of your reaction.

you gulp down the knot, mumbling a dry, "good luck with that." and sliding past her.

you start seeing how truly mundane your life is once the person it used to revolve around is no longer there.

how, it’s a continuous cycle of work and coming home to a big empty house most days and watching reruns of shows until you’re bored out of your mind.

which is how you wind up at a co-worker’s house party, the young woman from the office next to you going by the name of dahyun kindly asking after a conversation with your boss about the paperworks regarding the transfer.

she joined the firm a few months after you but you’ve always known her to be outgoing and a people’s person, recalling the girl’s familiarity with everyone from the floor her second week of work.

it wasn’t like you had anything better to do, so you accepted the invitation and saved the following day for a night of fun, or at least you hoped so.

dahyun had said it’s just gonna be a regular house party; none of that crazy frat bullshit with the chance of someone under 20 attending, so it’s just gonna be chill and relaxing.

fives minutes into your arrival and it’s not too bad but you already find yourself hiding in a corner despite recognizing a few faces from the same working floor.

“if you’re gonna be here, you should at least try and have some fun.”

the familiar sounding voice from behind makes you quirk a brow, barely looking over your shoulder to see, probably the least expected person standing with amusement in his expression.

“seonghwa?” you say in disbelief, your body naturally following your curiosity to stand before him. “the fuck you doing here?”

“attending the party, isn’t that obvious?” he quips, continuing to close the gap before stopping with just enough space.

you scoff and roll your eyes, the sight bringing a smirk onto seonghwa’s lips.

“shut up. you know what i mean.”

“dahyun’s a friend,” he says casually, the answer making you squint.

“seriously? hongjoong and now you?” the complaint rolling off like it’s seonghwa’s fault. you can only cross your arms and sulk.

you can’t even recall the last time you actually saw seonghwa. it must’ve been your graduation or one last coincidental meeting… you don’t remember. it’s been that long.

“yeah, cause you have better things to do?” he pokes fun at the very obvious fact you came alone. “where’s that jeong boy? you know, the one that always got you on a leash.”

between hongjoong and seonghwa, seonghwa’s always been the more calm and level-headed of the two; being the voice of reason when you and hongjoong would lose it.

but on the occasion when he’d just let it go and be snarky, seonghwa could really pull a nerve.

“is that all people associate me with?” you have the audacity to click your tongue in annoyance and scoff like you didn’t do it to yourself.

seonghwa snickers.

“oh i’m sorry. it was just my most recent memory of you,” he says cheekily. voice calm but you know there’s hidden animosity underneath.

he never explicitly said whose side he took, but it was obvious from how he treated you the same as hongjoong did. it only made sense because they’ve known each other before you even came along.

you never fault him, knowing it mostly had to do with your own fuck-ups.

“hmm,” you hum, tone setting into the same sarcastic and dry one he has. “well, it’s nice catching up and all but i don't feel like reminiscing the past, so if you’ll excuse me.”

because you can admit your wrongdoings and also be both embarrassed about it, attempting to brush past him when his speaking voice stops you in track.

“hey, i was just trying to find something to talk about after all these years,” he says, half chuckling and staring at you from the opposite side now that you’ve managed to make it past him.

you snicker lowly.

“what?” you quirk a corner of your lips, continuing with amusement in your voice, “then you’re gonna say sorry? or expect me to?”

he shrugs.

"that's your choice."

but his body language now shifting, that playful look no longer in his eyes or tone, it's almost scary how fast it happened.

the next few seconds is a silent stare off, the only sound is the party music in the background and the slight beating of your heart at the ominous delivery.

"i'm not asking for an apology or whatever. frankly, it wasn't even my problem, but i'm just saying... your life would be a lot easier if you know how to say sorry for once."

seonghwa thinks you have too much pride; the same thing you believe to be keeping you intact is gonna be your ultimate downfall because even when you're clearly wrong or you know you're wrong, you never say it.

you're one to keep it bubbled inside and carry the guilt just because you think you should be unbreakable at all times. it's such an unrealistic standard you've set for yourself.

you raise a brow at that, tilting your head in confusion.

"i know how to say sorry," you tell him sternly, attempting to convince him as much as you are to yourself.

“i’m uhm… i’m sorry,” you utter lowly, sounding and appearing ashamed by the way your fingers fiddle with each other at your front, san almost can’t believe it.

“pardon?”

“i’m sorry, about this morning.”

it's beyond comprehension how san must've been the first person you've genuinely apologized to after going so many years of the word kept to yourself.

it must've been the absolute humiliation and loneliness that day that really got to you, breaking you down until you were so vulnerable with nothing but the choice to fold in front of the one person you felt you could still confide in.

san being that person is also beyond what you can explain.

but seonghwa only merely puffs and crosses his arms.

"i just think it would be great if we could be friends again one day," he says, the ominous dropping and voice turning soft and reminiscing again that it makes your eyes go wide before you see a smile turn up on his lips.

"if you ever want to reach out to me or hongjoong again, you know how to find us."

he leaves his last words of the night opened and vague, disappearing off with one last smile before he's out of your sight, leaving you with much to think about--just exactly as he intended.

there's only so much excuses to make or places to be after work just because you don't want to be there for dinner, knowing it's the day both yunho and your sister are gonna tell your parents and his the good news.

know that they're all gonna react with surprise and be so happy for them, erupting in cheers and congratulatory words that the two children they've been rooting for the longest time has finally gotten together.

there really isn't a lot, that you just sucked it up and stayed the few extra hours overtime to make up for all the instances you've slacked off, even starting on work saved for the following day, hoping it's long enough to just miss the dinner.

and just enough it is, you return right as the table's just about to be cleared, the chitters and chatters around loud enough to drown the opening and shutting of the front door with yunho the only one catching your presence standing in the hall.

"they were really happy, yeah..." he says awkwardly, standing before you in the cold chilly air of the backyard.

you really didn't want to talk about it anymore, the subject like beating a dead horse at this point. but yunho had approached you so cautiously and calmly, something genuine in his action that you couldn't say no when he asked to talk for one last time.

"hmm," you merely hum, really not made for comforting or encouraging. most of the anger already dissipated although the hurt's still there, you can't bring yourself to not feel even the slightest happy for him, even if the smallest percentage because you saw the biggest smile ever on him back at dinner.

you contemplate on what to say because yes, you're still hurt and feeling betrayed, but it's not like you can hold it over his head forever. he isn't some stranger you can easily avoid.

he's yunho and you're just gonna have to get over it; not just for his sake but also for yours just so you can feel a little more at peace and move on.

"i'm sorry," he suddenly let out, your head snapping from the ground and to his guilt-ridden eyes.

because though he still stands by what he said, not a single word a lie, the few days apart also allowed him to think outside of the box--especially from your perspective.

how selfish he really was from the start, playing along when he was being dishonest the entire time, and how much pain he could've saved everyone if he hadn't been such a coward.

if he hadn't wanted the best of both worlds and knew he would lose you in some way if you found out how he actually feels.

you have to blink a few times, feeling like a lost puppy under yunho's apologetic gaze because you honestly believe that in comparison, you have so much more to be sorry for.

and as if he could read your mind; your expression speaking for itself because you have a certain look of bafflement or aloofness whenever you feel guilty.

you won't ever say outright that you're wrong, but your body language always gave it out.

it was one of the very first traits he picked up from being around you, having seen it for himself at the starting age of twelve when you pushed a much younger san to his injury and cried--not because you got yelled at by your parents but because you felt bad.

and how distracted you were at the movies the entire time after your fight with hongjoong because you confessed to yunho a few days later that you were being a shitty friend.

you have such a way of dealing with your emotions, he wishes for there to be an outlet for you to deal with them in a healthy and accepting manner.

one that doesn't depend on him or anything else for all the wrong reasons.

"i'm sorry," he says again, eyes now softer but still sincere. "i know i already said this last time but i really got carried away and couldn't finish. but i truly am sorry. i should've told you sooner. i should've never given you any sort of false hope, and i should've just been honest from the start."

he's sure he's out of breath when he finishes, just waiting for you to now say something in return because despite all the ups and downs and shortcomings, you're the one who's been with him through most of his lowest points and he's so grateful for that.

he wouldn't want to lose you over this.

you stay quiet for a few seconds more, a mental battle in your head just so you'll be able to form something coherent when you do speak.

"we both just weren't right for each other," you say, pausing briefly, "in that way... at least."

because yunho hid things from you and you were so in your head you were convinced he was in love with you at one point, always looking at everything through a rose-coloured glass but now able to see for yourself once it cracked, just how destined it was to fail from the start.

"sorry," he mumbles, low and head still hanging in shame, you can't help the dry chuckle that falls from your lips.

"you don't have to keep telling me you're sorry. like what i told minjeong: i'll get over it."

he picks his head up from the more cheery tone, the smallest smile forming on your lips that takes him by surprise because of the illusion it gives off; that you were able to come to terms with it so fast, but he knows you and knows it's all just a facade.

nonetheless, he nods, gulping silently to pass a comment.

"i hope you're taking care of yourself."

you smile, turning your back on him and crossing your arms to stare up into the stars in the nightsky who's currently the witness to the end of your 'relationship' with the boy you've loved your whole life.

"i've considered transferring work. it's not set in stone yet, but i did talked to my boss and he said he'd help me look for an opening if i'm interested."

you think it will be good if you can seek your own independence for once, unable to think of a better time than this one.

and though you can't see yunho, you can tell he's intrigued by how his question squeaks slightly when asking.

"where would you be transferring?"

"japan," you answer, once again facing him. "it's different, but close enough where i don't have to feel like i'm halfway across the world. my boss said i have about two months-ish to make up my mind."

plus, japanese is the only other language you're fluent in. the country a similar but new enough experience and the true testimony to how you'll be, away from the grasp of your parents.

"i see," yunho replies, nodding in understanding; so much to say but at the same time unable to say anything. he wouldn't ever want to hear someone he's close to plans on moving away, but he's almost proud of you for taking that next step.

"feel free to call me up any time if you need help," he adds, a soft smile gracing his features that makes the moment so bittersweet. you wish you have the guts to hate yunho, but you really can't after all he's done for you.

you nod lightly, at the same time allowing yourself to enjoy the breeze and calm silence before letting all your guards down.

"yunho..." you call his name almost timidly, the boy responding that immediate second.

"i'm not asking for an apology or whatever. frankly, it wasn't even my problem, but i'm just saying… your life would be a lot easier if you know how to say sorry for once."

"i'm sorry," you finally tell him, to wide and surprised eyes--unsurprisingly.

"i'm sorry for putting so much pressure and baggage on you. i also should've asked about your feelings from the very beginning. i shouldn't have just... assumed."

yunho knows it's the sincerest form of apology without the need to say a lot. from the nervous timbre to the guilt in your eyes, and even the way you start fiddling with your fingers.

he only snickers, much to your initial mixed reaction until you start warming up to it as well, the low but very real giggle leaving you putting a smile on yunho's face.

"apology accepted," he says.

you allow another giggle before cutting it short and looking at him through your blinking lashes.

"if you guys have went to this extent, then i hope you'll treat her right, jeong yunho."

you leave the night at that, a sting in your chest but you know that soon enough, you'll be relieved of it and you won't even think about him anymore.

it's after sitting down for a few minutes that you get a text from san, the funny coincidence that you were just talking about the transfer with your boss as well.

san: yunho told me

san: it's true you're gonna be leaving for japan?

you honestly can't recall how san even got your number. it must've been something you did drunkenly or he must've asked for it from yunho. but for sure, you did not give it to him willingly.

y/n: he really be snitching, huh

san: so it's true ☹️

you roll your eyes and try preventing even the smallest smirk. you haven't seen the man ever since that day and now is when he decides to reach out again.

y/n: maybe 🤷

san: 😔

san: just when we were starting to get along too

y/n: lol. you'll be fine.

shaking your head, you put your phone down to return to work, thinking to yourself there's no way san's actually serious because you're sure even if you did move halfway across the world, he would barely notice you're gone.

ten minutes of silence from your phone and you're also sure he's given up on the act--when your notification buzzes again.

san: ☹️ thought you weren't gonna run away

y/n: i'm not

y/n: i just want to do something different

san: if you say so

san: you free this evening?

y/n: i get off work in about 3 hours

san: wanna do something? 🙂

y/n: well aren't you a changed man 🙃

san: i thought it was nice the other day and i just figured you might need a distraction

you have to admit the fact you were taken aback a little; in a surprisingly good and touching way that san would care about you so much as to consider the after effect of what have happened.

y/n: if you're up for it 🤷 not like i have anything better after work

san: awesome! i'll see you then 😉

it's not everyday that you go waltzing into a guy's place; if at all, actually, because you've ever only graced the presence of the house next door because unlike san, yunho never had the urge to get his own place or be away from the watchful eyes of his parents.

it only takes two knocks in total for the door to come apart with san standing before it, a smile on his face and every body language welcoming.

"that was fast," you comment, walking past him to get inside.

"i was waiting," he says, calm and relaxed. "you took a lot longer than you said you would."

you shrug and plop yourself down on the couch, head snapping his way to reply.

"i had to get out of my work outfit."

he acknowledges it with a nod before seating himself next to you, his phone sitting on the coffee table in front of you gone unnoticed until you see him pick it up.

"what to order?" he scrolls through the delivery app, the same time you quirk a brow.

"stew sounds really good right now," you say.

"soft tofu stew?"

"that's fine. but make it spicy."

you weren't sure what you guys were gonna be doing once you came over, but he had just said to hang out and you thought any form of entertainment was better than none.

"any drinks?" he asks, after placing the order and getting up to walk over to the fridge.

"got any sodas?"

"i got some coke."

"that'll do."

he returns with two bottles, setting it on the table with a smirk stickered on his face, you have to reframe from rolling your eyes.

"what? no alcohol tonight?" he teases, his back falling onto the couch with hands behind his head.

"not in the mood," you reply, straight and simple.

"fair enough," he mumbles.

you let your eyes wander for a few more seconds before asking, "so, what's the plan?"

he gets up to sit straight and look you in the eyes.

"i was thinking a movie, video games, or we can just talk over food."

you hum with straighten lips, nodding and making yourself at home when it's your turn to fall back on the couch.

"anything's fine," you tell him, patting at the material under you and adding, "great couch by the way."

"yeah. it cost a fortune."

"good thing that wasn't a problem," you jab lightheartedly, because you always have wondered what the hell san does all day, besides the very obvious fact that he lives off the wealth of his parents and doesn't have to worry about anything when it comes to money... at least.

"i know what you're thinking," he says, not reactive of any kind.

"no but seriously, what do you do all day?" you ask, genuinely curious and interested this time.

he just quirks his lips, responding in the most lax tone, "enjoying life and doing what anyone in their 20s would?"

you scoff and shake your head.

you really do wish to be as untroubled and carefree as san is. the way he deals with and confronts everything as if there isn't a single thing to lose.

“it definitely bothered me at first, but i didn’t see why i should be losing sleep over it. me and yunho are two very different people after all who does our own things. i’m proud of what he’s achieved so far, and he’s always had my back when needed.”

you almost can't help but to have the tiniest respect for him in that regard.

"good to know." you giggle. "but what's the plan after?"

"working on it. but not really in the hurry to rush it or anything."

you nod courtly at that, another sinking thought about how similar, yet different the two of you really are.

growing up, you've never really paid much attention to san, always writing him off as annoying and obnoxious, but when left with no choice but to face him on a deeper level, you can't help but to notice the stark differences despite relating to him more than yunho.

"and you... are you really moving? like forreal?" he says, tone a soft worried that you almost want to believe he would be sad about you leaving... being this adamant and all.

"yeah," you answer, the disappointment befalling his expression completely flying over your radar. "forreal."

"but why?" he pushes.

you shrug, everything about you relaxed--as opposed to the boy standing across as he tries to digest the very big possibility of you going away, and most likely for a long time.

"i told you i wanted to travel."

"that's moving to a whole different country," he states the obvious, much to a laughter from you as the uneasiness on him only becomes more transparent.

you laugh some more, going on to say, "don't tell me you're actually gonna be sad?" your lips forming a frown after to tease him, and for the very first time, you think san might've blushed a little.

he opens his mouth as you watch curiously, but the moment shortly disrupted by the sound of san's phone going off.

"delivery will be here in 10 minutes," he tells you still holding the device in his hand before he tosses it aside.

"i also just want to try being on my own for a while," you bring the topic back into discussion when it seems like he isn't gonna answer the question.

you add, "if i do get moved, it will be on my own accord and everything will be from my own pockets... not my parents or anyone else. boss said i have about two months and i most likely will have to train the replacement but i think it's all gonna be worth it."

you're unable to read into san's reaction, silence filling the air until he finally speaks again.

"if you want to learn to be on your own, why don't you just get a place first? you know, instead of moving across the country. as someone in the current position, it's pretty nice if i say so myself."

your lips draw into a thin line, not because he's wrong but because you've never actually thought of that. you pretty much did just jumped ship into the next big step.

"i've uh... i didn't think of that," you mumble, the words cracking a smile on san's face before a snicker rolls out.

"jesus, y/n. a bit dramatic aren't you?"

"shut up," you hiss.

as the night goes on, any doubts and worries are long forgotten when the chatters with san would go on even after the food's arrival, both chewing and talking at the same time like you're never gonna run out of topics.

the eating soon turns into a search for something to watch while the two of you squabble about anything and everything, forgetting what the hell you're even fighting him about and being surprised you could even get this worked up without the help of alcohol.

and after you're both finally worn out from the long night; the foods on the coffee table now empty and dry and the tv running for far too long, you help clean the place up when it seems he's fallen asleep and quietly make your way out of the condo shortly after.

tuesday 4:32 p.m.

san: how about this one? looks really nice and is kind of close to my place 🙂

san: *attachment*

y/n: that looks way too fancy and expensive

y/n: i just want something that's enough for one person

it's impressive; the fact san even entertained the idea of leaving everything you've already got in mind to settle for something else, but even more so that you're even considering it.

getting a place of your own and learning to live on yourself would be a lot more doable than moving across the sea and away from everyone and everything you've grown up with.

you suppose it's not a bad idea. you're just not sure if it's the right one.

san: you're not gonna find anything if you're gonna be this picky 🙄

y/n: i'm just looking

y/n: if i'm really gonna stay, i'd do the search myself

san: 😢

you don't even realize how san starts weaving into your daily life and just integrating himself into it; whether through small, mindless texts, or bigger ones like actually inviting you out or over to his place (more frequently, at least).

wednesday 1:20 p.m.

san: what time do you finish work today

y/n: i always finish at 6

san: wanna come over? i got a game we can play 🙂

y/n: it better not that stupid truth or dare

san: ☹️

san: it's not

san: it's truth or dare spin the bottle

y/n: 🥱

san won't admit how fast he came at the sound of the first knock, and you also won't admit that despite him looking very much the same, there's something different about him lately.

something you can't pinpoint but it's almost as if he's gotten more attractive somehow even though you've never really cared about any of that.

"did you wear that to work?" he comments on your outfit as you make way past him and settling inside.

"yes," you answer dryly, tone soon overturning. "what? you think i was gonna get pretty?" you smirk.

he shrugs, mumbling a "maybe" that you quietly let pass to take off your shoes.

"wanna see a few places i've looked up?" he beams, going over to the laptop that was on the kitchen counter and running over to you on the couch with it.

"why not," you mumble, scooting closer, shoulder bumping into his nonchalantly.

you watch him scroll through the abundance of luxurious condos alike his, opting to raise your brow and turn to him.

"why are they all high-profile and in gangnam?" you question.

"pfft," he scoffs, facing you head on, standing the closest he's ever been to you in a long while and remarking, "it's not like you can't afford it. come on, y/n."

"i can't." you move away from him. "if i even get a place, it's gonna be with my own savings, not my parents. i definitely can't afford a place like these. can we please look at something a little less flashy?"

he shakes his head and eventually changes the area, but an hour into the search and you're still not satisfied. the prices are either not doable or the layouts and amenities aren't to your heart's content.

"let's continue this another day," you sigh out, throwing your head back and groaning as san chuckles.

"fine," he gives in, shutting the laptop and moving it out of sight. "you're so picky."

"well you got to be. i'm sure you didn't pick this place out in a day," you say at the same time you look around.

on your own, there's no way you'd ever be able to get anything like this.

"and you don't think it's nice?"

"are you kidding?" you say in disbelief. "it's amazing. if i had the money, it might as well be my dream place. but it's okay. i can also settle for much less as long as it accommodates all my needs."

san can't help but laugh, because he thinks you're both the snazziest person he's ever met, but also the most tame, it's a bit uncharacteristic of someone who grew up wealthy all her life.

"fair enough," he says, standing up abruptly to go grab at an empty beer bottle also on the counter which you're sure he most likely prepared for, given his next set of words.

"how about spin the bottle but no dares. we can only ask questions and the person has to answer truthfully." he places it on the coffee table.

you snap to him at that with something uneasy in your eyes, prompting a comment from him.

"you scared?" he tease.

"what? no," you blow.

"then what are we waiting for?" san doesn't hesitate with one of his hands already on the bottle but you have to stop him in the process to ask one more question.

"what kind of questions though?"

it takes him maybe a second for a light smirk to crawl out of him and with a shrug, telling you, "any."

you eye the bottle on the table anxiously as it circles and clinks; not afraid of the idea of the game but more so that you're playing with san and he's gonna ask the wildest shit.

fortunately, san shoots himself in the foot.

"oh fuck, it's me."

it's your turn to smirk, letting out an almost sarcastic, "yeah."

"knock yourself out. i'm an open book."

you roll your eyes because you know he is, which is why trying to come up with something that will even faze him is gonna be a challenge.

"most embarrassing thing you have done at a party?"

he scoffs it off in amusement, like he can't believe you're even asking that.

"i thought you could do worse, y/n. but sure."

he hesitates and hums for a few seconds more before answering, "got high as fuck and almost kissed wooyoung."

a dry snicker actually escapes from your lips at the confession.

"yeah i always suspected you guys had a thing for each other."

"please don't," he says in pure disgust. "i love wooyoung forreal but no amount of high can get me to kiss the man."

you laugh, now actually the one to initiate the spin because you think it can turn out fun. you think.

and thankfully, it's not you that have to answer a question, again.

"wow," san only silently curses the double misfortunate.

"how many people have you slept with?" you blurt, bold and straightforward, san even slightly taken aback.

"don't ask questions that will break your heart."

"tsk." you roll your eyes. "you could sleep with the entire population of earth and i wouldn't give a shit."

"not even the tiniest bit?" he plays on in that voice you hate because it's always when he's trying to flirt with you.

"i'd give the tiniest shit about everyone else because poor them."

"sharp," he retracts, the amusement all over his face. "but to answer your question, maybe eight? ten? to be honest, i've lost count."

"good to know," you reply nonchalantly, nodding for him to spin the bottle this time, but you know it's only so long before your luck eventually runs out, and so it does.

"ha," he says in victory, the top of the bottle pointing at you.

"i'll go easy, don't worry just yet," he teases annoyingly, you almost want to knock your foot into his.

"what did you think of me when we first met?"

you quirk your lips and pretend to think although you already know the answer.

"well, i thought you were gonna be sweet, but that was until i got to actually know you. then you were just annoying and a pervert."

he bursts out in genuine laughter and yeah, you think he's cute and endearing like this but 95% of the time, he's getting on your nerves.

the game continues on with a back and forth of innocent enough questions; just laughing and scoffing off the ridiculousness, and you're starting to think he might spare you, until the next one turns your eyes a dark one.

"what is it about yunho that made you like him so much?"

and again, you've already stated so many times why you like him. his kindness. his attitude. the way he presents himself. the way he treats you. but if you have to pick one.

"it just seems as if he accepted me for who i am. i don't know."

the way the atmosphere shifts is scary; both of the smiles on your lips wiped and replaced by unreadable expressions as san quiets without a reply, you have to be the one to speak again.

"and you... w-why are you helping me?" you ask him.

"huh?" he repeats just so there's no mistake.

"we don't even like each other and i pretty much treat you like shit but you still seem rather concerned about my wellbeing for whatever reason."

it has gotten so silent by now, you can hear san swallowing.

"you're the one who always says you don't like me. i never said i don't like you."

it's your turn to swallow, staring back at him with nervous eyes because you're not sure how to take the statement just now or what exactly he really means.

"i just thought the feeling was mutual," you mumble, shrugging lightly.

"no. i think you just didn't care enough to ask me," he says with a dry chuckle because he's right and even you know it. your mind at the time too occupied with his brother instead.

"so like, you really don't want me to leave?" you take the opportunity to tease him, a tone on you almost unrecognizable that you think even made san a bit nervous and shy.

"you could say that," he talks lowly, on the verge of stuttering. "i've known you almost my whole life."

"and if i did?" you ask, voice turning a more serious one as the words make an etch in san's heart. it hurts to even think of the possibility.

"then i would be really upset."

you watch his eyes and lips go soft, something so genuine and sincere in his response that makes you just freeze up before breaking the tension with a forced snicker.

"you still have some time to change my mind," you encourage, because you wish for there to be bigger reasons to stay so you won't regret the could of, even if san has to be that reason.

some might call it healing, some might call it a rebound if that even applies at all, but san successfully weaves himself into your life like a routine that you're no longer fazed by a morning text or even a goodnight one.

the way he'd just check up on you during work or call during the weekends to ask how you're doing and if you're up for something together.

it's a bit pathetic he's pretty much your only friend (and even that's a reach) at this point, but you genuinely enjoy his company.

he listens well, is fun to be around, and is almost like a life-long friend who's been missing your whole life.

but while those are the ups of being with san, there's also the downs--such as the long list of girls that'd constantly ring his phone or send him a text while the two of you are together, and while that isn't any of your business, that doesn't stop the few doubts that manages to plague your mind.

are you interrupting anything? does it make you a bitch for hanging with him when he has other girls lined up? does all of this even mean anything when you could very much just be one of them?

that maybe even if there's a possibility, you could never fully give and commit yourself to someone like san because it doesn't seem like he's ready to settle for anyone.

he haven't ever had a relationship that lasted more than a few months and you haven't ever known him to have less than two option on the table.

which might be why you were so much more attracted to yunho, because in comparison, yunho seemed like he would give away his heart and soul for just you.

but you know that, though. you knew that's how san is. you shouldn't have expected anything else, but you still can't help but to feel a strange, unfamiliar sense of loathing when he's distracted by another girl.

"i talked to the landlord a few days ago and she said if i wanted to see the apartment for myself, she would be more than happy to show me," you tell san over a late night eat out; the restaurant about to close in an hour but you're sure he's not listening because his head snaps to the text he got just now.

he still attempts to sound like it's the current topic holding his attention, which you have to give him credits for.

"that's good," he shortly says, fingers fast to type something on his phone before pushing it away. "so how many more days left again?"

"about two weeks, give or take," you respond, poking at your fries with the fork.

two weeks before you'll have to make the ultimate choice to leave or stay.

it's been that long, time just flying before your very eyes to the point where yunho's presence lingering around the house for the sole purpose of your sister almost no longer does an effect to you.

"wow. already?"

"yeah."

san offers to pay for the meal and drive you home instead of the usual catching a movie at his place before the actual end of the night and it's not like you're gonna fight him on it.

he's not your boyfriend and he definitely doesn't have any obligations to follow through any routines or whatever, so why are you all of a sudden feeling so tense about it?

tense and bitter about the fact that after he drives you home, there's a likely chance there's gonna be another girl at his place.

you think you're losing it.

you had let yourself indulge more and more into the possibility of staying, which was how you found the place that you could practically call ideal.

though it's only one bedroom, the modern but warm-toned style of the complex as a whole, as well as the location and pretty much everything else is convenient and accommodates all your needs.

when you had finally set a time and meeting with the landlord, you fell in love even harder in person because the second she opened the door to the place, it was like you knew this is it.

you think it can work out. you think you can see a future in this place; in this city still. and you have been much brighter and happier lately, even telling your boss the following day that there's a big chance you're gonna change your mind about the move given time is creeping up.

you had sent a text to san so excited because you want to tell him in person, every day the chance of you actually staying increasing by the second and he had told you he'd be available tomorrow night.

despite the conflicts swirling in your stomach a week ago, san had made up for it by being attentive as usual and making you feel like he really cares about you that the occasional rings and texts not from you were starting to become bearable.

after all, what does he owe you?

you're content with just having someone to talk and share your day with. you think you can live with that.

but you didn't expect nor think that all it'd take for the doubts to settle in again is to actually face the reality of your situation, making your way to san's place as promised and seeing a familiar face on the way in.

long hair and with a frame you've definitely seen before, it's hard to ignore the sensation she manages to conjure by just merely passing you.

“why don’t you ask the one person that would actually know where he is? or are you too good for that, too?”

you squint, confused, until he nods his head another direction and you follow, landing right into the view of the kitchen and to someone you know all too well just from the back.

his hands on some poor girl’s waist and lips running along with hers as her grip tightened at his disheveled hair, his body pressing her forward onto the counter, the both of them making out like there won’t be a tomorrow.

“no thanks,” you dismiss, managing to reframe from an eyeroll, pushing past hongjoong but not before you catch the smirk on him.

it wasn't the first time you saw her with san, because if it was, your body wouldn't have recognized her so easily as if she's a threat, replacing all the excitement and hope with nothing but old and plain insecurities.

then it's as if everything was a mistake.

choosing to stay because of san and with nothing but the hope that it will all work out... instead of going away on your own for some time and learning to really be independent.

your whole life, you've already been nothing but emotionally dependent on someone else, looking to them as a source of support, and you've realized that this time, it isn't any different.

you've just moved from yunho to san... and you didn't even like san for the longest time.

so how long before it will hit you that staying was a mistake; and especially that choosing to stay because of san was gonna be the biggest one of them all.

you have the tendency to catch feelings way too fast, and even if not romantic which you won't admit in this case (even if it might be), you react strongly to it and the feeling is consuming.

because how long before san will leave you the way yunho did?

everything may seem good for now but they will all meet the same ending. and to think of everything in perspective this way, you know you're not meant to stay.

your parents, yunho and your sister, san...

you don't feel ready for any of them currently, your life stuck at a point where you're not moving. and so you just turn back around and head home.

you think long and hard just to be sure this is what you want; then you think of how to tell your boss tomorrow, and about an hour later, you finally get a text from san.

san: you still coming? you said you have something to tell me

y/n: something came up sorry

y/n: i was just gonna tell you that i've made up my mind and i think i'm gonna go to japan

a/n: i am truly sorry for having been gone a while only to come back with crumbs, but i hope y'all enjoyed this mess & will anticipate it finally coming to an end the following chapter <3 lmk if i missed anyone on the taglist cuz i have not touched it in 4ever fr

taglist: @freeandrealme @shingene @cookiechristie @softie00 @crimson-mia @hexheathen @lixpixstix @atinytease @turtash @moonseonghwa @kkayfan @curryramyeon @justineasian @sannie-pudding @itsokaytobedumb00 @nerdy-kimchi @fannyxmh @acciocriativity @mel-the-mad-hatter @eastleighsblog @diorwoo @devilsmatches @kyume02 @distvrbia @wonwowzers @endeav0rsb1tch @sannwa @brown88 @sangiluvem @eburneon @hotteokhatyu @yeosangsbiceps @sankatchu @lynnsqueendom @harusoraa @ad0rechuu @interweab @revehosh @byunniebaekhyunnie @nabi-sannie @gugggu6gvai @rockstarsanie @shakalakaboomboo @yeosangsbbg @yawnzshit @avantalem @lelaleleb @mountiiny @arinyyy @svintsandghosts @yoongiworshiper @raineadlr @tunaasan @chickenscoups @nevieatiny

#y'all don't even know #the demons i fought #just to get 7k out of my ass #y/n got serious issues #but i hope y'all will still enjoy the drama #ateez angst #san x reader #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez series #yunho x reader #fic: sweetestlies

209 notes · View notes

spidybaby · 9 months

Note

Wenasss✨ Not me sneaking into your inbox🤭😅 to kindly ask for Bad Kind of Butterflies part II, please and thanks!🤣🫶🏼

Bad Kind of Butterlies | Part Two

Summary: Pedri regrets his actions and tries to get back to you.

Warnings: fighting, cursing. Physical fight. Part one

"Pedri, the ball. Keep your eyes on the fucking ball." Xavi yells. "God, what's going on with you today?"

Pedri can't even look at Xavi in the eyes, he has sis eyes glued to the floor. He can feel the looks of his teammates burning him.

"Miss that ball again, and you're benched." Xavi says, stern tone.

"I'm sorry, Mister."

He tries his best to focus on the ball, trying not to miss it or not miss the goal to the net, but he can't keep his mind on the field.

Gavi, playing with the other half of the team, stole the ball from him, making Oscar sound the little whistle.

He just observes the way Xavi is yelling. Tired and really not that interesting, he can't seem to understand a word that's coming out of his trainers mouth.

The training goes on for another half hour, and then they're all reunited in the salon to plan the next game.

The "Real Madrid vs Barcelona" typical classic.

He focuses all his attention on speech Xavi is giving the team. Turning his head to see Ferran typing something on his phone.

He makes the lining, Xavi kept his promise and bench him for the next game. Leaving the possibility of getting back if he improves in this next two trainings.

"Estas bien?" Ferran asks, taking him to the side for them to be alone.

"I'm not sure." He sincerely says. He can't keep secrets ti Ferran. "I just need to keep my head around what's important."

"And she's not?"

"The thought of her is making me be benched. I think I had enough of her for the rest of the week."

He turns to the dressing room, ready to collect his belongings and leave. No shower, no nothing.

But to his bad luck, Ferran is quicker and stops him by the arm. "You can't keep doing this. This is not healthy, Pedro."

"What am I supposed to do?" He angrily says, removing his arm from the hold of his friend. "She won't listen to me, she changed her number, she changed her apartment building. It's like she disappeared."

Ferran was holding the bitter "I told you" He had been keeping since after the party.

When a very angry Gavi told him about the words Eric said to his date and then to Pedro, he was pissed, he wanted to fight him. But, like a rational person, he calmed Gavi down and helped fixing the situation.

What he could help was the disaster Pedri did, yelling at you and fighting with gavi over the words of Eric. Words he warned him about.

"Just please call me if you need anything." He pats Pedri on the back and walks to the showers.

He nods, grabbing his stuff and walking back to his car. He wants to run away from everything and everyone.

Once he makes it to his car, his head feels like it's going to blow up. He'd dizzy and tired.

The way his heart is pounding like crazy and he feels like passing out scares him. This isn't news to him. He was having a panic attack.

He tries to breathe, counting things like you thought him. Five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.

Once he's calmed enough to at least drive himself home, he calls Fer, asking him to be home "I need you, Fer." He says crying.

His brother was worried, his whole family was. He wasn't the sweet, happy and very enthusiastic boy they known. He was now this confused and sad looking boy.

Pedri can't even seem to move upstairs to his room, he can't help the tear falling down, he can't help the blame he feels.

His relationship with Pablo was broken, his relationship with Eric is almost non existent. All thanks to him.

He can't blame Eric for it, he was the one who did all the bad stuffs, hitting your friend, hurting you by not trusting you.

He remembered your words like if you were just telling them to him.

"You're not dumb. You're such a smart man. So I need you to use that intelligence to understand that if you keep doing this shit, you're losing me."

But did he lost you?

He wanted to heard you voice, wanted to hear about that interview you told him about the day of the wedding. He wanted to hear about your new workout routine.

But he can't, because everytime he calls you he hit voice-mail. Everytime he goes looking for you he remembers that a new person lives in that apartment. Everytime he tried to look up for your social media profiles you weren't there.

"And that fucking sucks." He tells Fer, not knowing how else express his feelings.

Fer understand the struggle you both are going through, from his brother side is the blame of making you leave and not being the man you deserved. And he also understand that you want Pedri to change and to fight for you.

Ferran and Fer tried his best to talk to you and convinced you to give Pedri a chance. Thing you denied, you made a promise to yourself, he needed to prove to you that he changed.

You wanted the relationship you had before, the trust, the unconditional love. You wanted to feel joy again, to feel like you could be with him again.

You can't say you had it worse, but you were struggling as well. Sira had to force out of bed and to a local park. You cried like a child in her lap, telling her how much you needed him.

"You don't need someone who can't make an effort of changing. You need to understand that."

She was right, you needed someone who will be there for you in bad and good. During hard and easy.

"Good morning sunshine." Sira yells opening the curtains. The sun hit directly to your face, making you groan and turn around.

"oh, no ma'am." she pulls the duvet in a quick motion. "I made breakfast, get up."

She gave you five minutes to wash your face and brush your teeth. You can't help to feel a little annoyed at the wake-up call Sira pulled.

"Eat, please." She serves the breakfast to you, giving you a fork and a kiss on the cheek.

The day was bright, the sun was shining so much, the view from your apartment was breathtaking, making you feel happy instantly.

"I can't believe we're going to graduate tomorrow." Sira yells while doing a little dance. "I'm so happy for us."

"I am too, thank you for sticking up to me after all this time."

You walk over to her, giving her a big hug. She separates a little, reaching for the grad hat you have in the corner, putting it up on you.

When you broke up with Pedri you had a very bad time, you were in denial, somehow blaming yourself for the things that happened.

Then was the rage, it was not your fault, it was Eric's and Pedro's fault. He was the one believing the disturbing mind of Eric.

Then came the sadness, you were crying like crazy, in the shower, at the movies when Sira and Kyle took you out, at the parking lot of the building.

And now you're just blue.

"We have to go get the dresses, eat and let's go."

When the lease for your apartment concluded. You wanted to move to a smaller place, wanting something more "home like"

Sira was not okay with the decision, she convinced her parents on sharing a Apartment with you while you both figure your life out.

The moving was heartbreaking for you, specially because you couldn't run away from the memories.

"When you graduate, we're moving together. We can remodel the house, giving it your touch, make this place our home."

You used to laugh, thinking it was crazy for him to think about settling down at barely twenty one. "You'll change your mind, Pepi. "

But he cut you off, telling you that there was no other thing in his mind. He can't picture a future without you in it.

"I invite Pablo to the ceremony, and Fernando." You confess.

"Are you sure about that?" She asked worried. "I mean, Pablo I guess but Fer?"

"My family isn't coming, so I have the tickets and the closest thing to a family here is you, your family that is already attending and the González."

"Okay, if you think that's the right think to do, I'm not saying anything."

🪷🪷🪷

"Squish, all of you, let me take a picture." Luis Enrique says. "Okay, in three, two, one, cheese!."

You smile, arm around Sira and Karla.

After what felt like a whole photoshoot, Sira was ready to greet some family members that joined the ceremony.

"Y/n!" you heard at the distance.

You turn around, looking for the voice. It was your favorite angry bird. The big white bouquet of flowers doesn't go unnoticed.

"Felicidades, preciosa." He hugs you with one hand, the flowers getting in the middle of that. "Oops, sorry. This is for you."

"Thank you, Pablito." You hug him carefully this time. "Thank you for coming."

"I was happy when you sent me the invite, Sam says hi and congratulations."

"Are you coming to my party?"

Pablo was about to answer but someone calling you name again interrupting him.

"Fer!" You say, happily about seeing him again. "Thank you for coming." You say, getting squish between his arms.

"Felicidades, hermanita." He kiss your cheek. "Mom and dad are so proud of you, they send their congratulations to you."

You smile at him, the warmth your heart is feeling is making you blush. "Thank you." You whisper. "Pablito and you need to tell me if you're coming tonight."

"I will, what about you, Fer?"

"I can't wait."

PabloGavi has added to his story

Yourusername has added to their story

🪷🪷🪷

"Okay, it's game day time. Let's finish preparing ourselves, and let's go warm up." Oscar says, excited about the match against RMA.

"Pedri, can I have a minute outside, please." Xavi calls.

He was trying his best to concentrate, head in the game. Even if that sounds like a high school musical thing to say.

"Mira, I know I said that I was benching you." Xavi began, making Pedri nod. "I'm going to make an exception, I'm making Marc play for twenty minutes then you're in."

"I promise that I won't lose the ball." He smiles like the cat in Alice in wonderland. "Gracias, Mister."

Xavi pats his back, smiling back at him. He knows that Pedri has the range, he just needs to take it out in the right place. The field.

Pedri has added to his story

"Finally, a game that was worth to watch." Kyle says, eating the remaining pop corn from the bowl.

This game was very important for the Barcelona, they needed this game to keep themselves at the top of La Liga.

And they did it. They won.

Pedri scored a game thanks to Pablo's passing the ball to him.

"He played really good." Karla comments.

"Yeah, he did." You whisper.

You were proud of him, he was your golden boy after all.

You remembered the first game you went to. He gifted you a shirt with his number. He sent a car to come get you.

That was the first gol he ever dedicated to you. You remember the way you felt, the smile on his face, the aura of the stadium. It was simply magical.

And now you're supporting him from the comfort of your home. Because no matter what, he was all that to you.

But where you still all that to him?

You always kept those thoughts for yourself, your friends were done with you talking about him. Always ending up crying.

"So are we going out tonight?" Karla asks, turning the TV off.

"I don't know if I want to go out guys." You say, washing the dishes from the dinner. "I'm not feeling well."

"A Tylenol and were out and about, my lady." Sira says laughing at your face.

"Fine, but I don't want to he out till five in the morning, please."

"Deal."

Yourusername has added to their story

The party was good, you ended up not inviting Kyle because you were feeling like having a girl's night out.

Karla got invited to a vip club that was on the way of your apartment, you were on your way there.

"We're going to the vip section." She says to the bodyguard at the entrance, showing him a picture. "Thank you."

The club was way fuller than the last one, the aura was way better too.

"Y/n, let's get a drink." Sira yells.

"Let's just take Karla to her friends table and we can go, okay?" You yell back, she nods.

Karla was seeing this dude that was a manager of some new footballers, they were young like in La Masia.

The other dudes at the table invited you to different drinks, since they got special treatment because of their vip status.

Karla has added to her story

You were thankful with your friends, they were making you have so much fun.

"Girls, I'm going to the bathroom." You say to your friends, getting up from your seat and walking to the little outside bathroom they have for the vip rooms.

You got knocked up a little by someone, hitting you shoulder with the door frame. "Fucking idiot." You say to yourself, smoothing the hurt area.

You were washing your hands when someone moved the doorknob, knocking desperately at the door.

"Wait, I'm almost done." You say drying your hands with a paper towel. The person on the other side keeps knocking like crazy. "It's been five seconds like wait." You say.

You open the door and to your surprise the face on the other side of the door is a familiar one. "Y/n?"

"Ferran, hi!"

He walks inside the bathroom, making your way out impossible since he closed the door. "Joer', it's so good to see you." He hugs you for a few seconds.

You can smell the alcohol in his breath, making you scrunch your nose. "Are you alone?" You ask him.

"No, I'm with some friends from Valencia."

"Okay, take care Fer, I need to go back to my friends." You wanted to leave so he can use the bathroom.

"Wait, I want to talk to you." He stops you from opening the door. "Please give me your number."

You think for a few seconds, not sure about the proposal. "What if I wait for you outside?" You smile at him.

"You won't run away?" He asks, you shake your head no. "Pinky promise?" He elevate his pinky finger over to you.

"Pinky promise." You smirk while intertwining fingers with him. "Hurry up." You say, walking outside for him.

A few minutes later you see Ferran dance walk over to you, you smile at this goofiness. You missed that.

"Tell me, Mister paella." You joke, mentioning his nickname you and Pedri gave him.

"I wanted to tell you, more like ask you for a favor." He says breathlessly. "I know you might say no, but I want to try."

You knew where this was going, but you let him continue with his speech. Nodding your head to let him know you heard him and to continue.

"I know that you probably are in a better place and you are moving on, but please heard me out. Pedri is not alright, and you don't own him nothing after the stupid shit he pulled, but please you need to talk to him."

You sigh, you know that he was not having the best development during training or at the matches. Fer told you that already, but he didn't asked for you to reach to him.

"I know I'm asking for too much." He continued. "I'm just out of ideas of what to do with him. Xavi is about to beat his ass, Oscar too, Gavi and him don't even look at each other. We almost beat Eric to the ground with Gavi."

"He deserves that." You scuff. "But I'm not sure what you expect me to do?"

"Can you maybe call him? Or text him?" He asks. "Or I don't know, send him a dm if you don't want to share your number with him."

You think about it for a good minute, you knew that he was struggling, you were too, but you wanted to maybe help him even when he didn't deserved that.

"I'll reach out to him." You finally say. Making Ferran jumps from excitement. "I'll try to find a good time, okay?"

He nods excited, hugging you and giving you a quick kiss in the side of the head. "Thank you, if you need a ride home you can tell me."

"Thank you, I'm good, my friend is driving us." You wave him goodbye. Both of you go back to each vip rooms.

🪷🪷🪷

"Look at this cd" Pablo says, passing the 1989 cd. "What are you doing this December?"

"Well, I was thinking about spending my December here in Barcelona." You say, helping him organizing some pictures. "Aw, young Pablito." You say, showing him the picture.

"Stop that." He laughs. "So you're not going back home?"

"I mean my family is not going to be there, so I might as well be alone here."

"You're welcome to spend time with Sam and with me. Also with my family and me."

"Thank you, crunchy guy." You joke with him.

Now that he's in recovery you can visit him more often. You love watching new movies and shows with him because you have the same taste.

"I want to ask you something." You say, not sure how to approach the topic of Pedri. "But you can tell me if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Okay?" He says, eyes scrunched.

"Ferran and I were at the same club and we find ourselves in the bathroom." You began. "Long story short, he asked me to call Pedri."

"Y/n, I'm not the best to give you advice on this."

"I just need guidance, Pablo." You confess. "I'm not one to ask you anything but just be honest with me."

"Joder" He sighs, hands on his face. "What do you want me to say?"

"How is he?" You ask worried. "Is he doing okay?"

"He came to see me at my recovery the other day." He says, hand scratching his head. "He asked me to forgive him."

You let him take him time to tell you everything.

"We talked and it's not like we are on speaking terms like we used to but we are better."

"That's good, I think you both needed that." You say honestly.

"Now, to answer you. I think he's doing better little by little. He's not the best at hiding his feeling and you know that, he tents to get quiet and death looking." He laughs at the last part. "But, if you want my opinion, I think he needs to fight for you. A call or a text will not harm anyone."

You nod, taking everything he says into consideration. He was right, Pedro had to make some sacrifices for you.

"But, you can do what you think is best." He says, hands in the air.

"Thank you, angry bird." You hug his body, careful with his leg. "Love you."

"Can you show me love in a form of a sandwich?" He asks, batting his eyelashes like a little kid. "Pretty please."

"Just because you're my little baby." You tap his nose with care. Making him laugh. "I'll be back."

Yourusername has added to their story

"I was thinking about doing a baking course." You tell Sira, you're at the pool at her parents house. "I want to learn how to do Christmas cookies."

"My mom knows how to, you can ask her to teach you."

"That's better, you're right."

You keep looking at your phone, it's been three weeks since the talk with Ferran and two since the talk with Gavi.

Today they announced that Pedri was feeling some pain in his muscles, so he wasn't training. You know how much that affects Pedro mentally.

"Hey, what if we go change? I kinda want to go shopping." You say, getting out of the pool and walking over to the towel. "You coming?"

Yourusername has added to their story

Siramartinezc has added to her story

🪷🪷🪷

"I'm going to take a shower and we can eat, okay?" You say, hands full of bags. "Chao bella, take a shower please."

You leave everything on a chair next to your bed, the phone in your pocket feels heavy, you know you want to make that call.

You dial his phone number, sitting with your legs crossed on your bed. Your heart is beating like crazy.

"Hola"

Your breath is gone, you suddenly lost the ability to talk.

"Hola?" He repeats.

His raspy voice, his heavy breaths when he's trying to catch air. Simply him.

"Hola." You whisper.

Now is his turn to lost the speech ability. He's frozen. It's been months.

"Y/n?" He asks, not believing you're the one on the line.

"Hola." You repeat. "Te llamé en mal momento?" (Did I call you at a bad time?) You ask, bitting your nails.

"No, de hecho no estaba haciendo nada." You can hear a door closing. "How are you?" (No, I was actually not doing anything)

"I'm good, dealing with life. What about you? I heard about your muscle pain."

Your voice is low, you feel scared of saying something wrong. Even though you're barely at the beginning of the call.

"I've been better, I'm missing the Dallas game." He sighs. "I just feel like every time I'm feeling confident about coming back, my body gets fucked up."

You humm in response, letting him vent his frustration.

"I'm tired honestly, Xavi and Oscar are at the edge with me and I think that with the team. Frenkie barely came back, the team sucks, Gavi is hurt."

"I'm sorry this is going like that." You say, being honest.

"I don't even log into social media anymore. On Twitter and on Instagram the haters keep comparing me with Jude, with Vini, with Rodry. I'm so done, Y/n."

"Ay Pepi, I wish I can say something to make you feel better. But you know I suck at that." You laugh, making him laugh too. "You know you're amazing, and that if Xavi and Oscar get frustrated they don't feel your pain, that's why you have to be open with how your body feels."

"I do, believe me that I do, but I can't help but think that every time I say my muscles hurt, they gave me this disappointed look."

The way his voice break makes your heart hurt. You know from past experiences that his mental health goes down day by day if he overthink about the topic.

"And my parents and Fer try to tell me off of this ideas and I don't think it's working. I just wish I can turn my brain off for the night so I can sleep well tonight."

His breathing is getting heavier by the second, you can pick what's going on. He's overthinking and about to have a panic attack.

"Oye, tell me about that game you wanted to buy." You ask out-of the blue, making his mind think of another think.

"Game? What game?" He asks, voice breaking.

"Yeah, the one you wanted to buy. That one with the cars on it." You explain. "And what about that drink you wanted to try, did you tried it?"

"The green one?"

"Si, that one. Did you tried it? Was it good?"

"It tasted weird, and the game I never bought it. Lost interest on it."

"Okay, what about your mother croquettes?"

"They're so good, I broke diet the other day at Adrian's birthday party."

You can hear the breathing being hard but not as heavy as before. You relax, laying fully on your bed.

"Te amo." He says. "I'm sorry about everything, I'm so dumb. You told me that I was losing you and I never changed. It's my fault you're not next to me, that you're not at my games."

"Pedri, let's not do this." You interrupted him.

"Let me say it, Y/n." He begged. "I need to get this out of me, it's eating me alive."

"Okay, keep going."

"I know Fer went to your graduation. I cried myself to sleep that night, and every night after I lost you. I can't think of anything else." He sobs, making your heart hurt. "And my parents are so fucking mad at me, because how could I lost the girl of my dreams?"

"Pedro." You tried to make him stop.

"And my father told me how disappointed he was of me. He was so mad when I told him the truth. I can't keep doing this without you. You were supposed to be laying next to me, calling this place your home. I'm sorry."

"This is not why I called."

"Tell me what I have to do for you to forgive me." He begged again. "Tell me how can I fix this. Please."

"Pedro, stop."

"Please."

You wanted to hang up, not wanting to give up on all the progress you've made. In the promises you made to yourself.

"I think we both need to take a breath." You laugh nervously. "Please, breathe."

All you can hear was the heavy breathing from your and his side of the call. Your mind running a mile per second.

"Can we met, please?" He asks. Your heart was saying yes, but your mind was more coherent.

You were about to answer when Sira stormed into the room asking you to try something. Pedro heard the voice of her and wondered if you were at his parents house.

"I have to go." You say, hanging up the phone quickly. "What?" You ask Sira, she's looking at you with narrowed eyes.

"You okay?"

"Yes, I was about to take a shower but my mom called."

"Was it bad?" She asked worried. "Do you want to talk?"

"I'm fine, I'm just getting in the shower and then we can have some of that green thing you have in there." You tap her nose and walk quickly to the bathroom.

Pedro was laying on the couch he has in his room, his head pounding like crazy, the tears falling from his eyes, wetting his face.

He walks to his bathroom, he needs to wash his face. He needs to relax and breathe like you told him to.

The way he feels lighter after telling you how he feels was refreshing, his shoulders don't have the weight they used to five minutes ago.

His reflection is like a stranger to him. His dark circles under his eyes now darker, his weight every day less. He can't keep doing this to himself.

You feel the same way as you look at your reflection. The tears pooling that you don't want to let wet your face.

You take deep breaths, the sound of shower and the steam makes you be back from your thoughts. You got into the shower, sliding down the bathroom wall while hiding your face into your hands.

Pedro can't seem to find a way to stop his tears, knees on the floor while the sounds of his painful cry interrupt the peaceful silence of his home.

🪷🪷🪷

"You sure you're okay with me going to this party?"

Ferran invited you to his sister's birthday party, you and her were good friends thanks to Sira. Sadly due to the breakup, Sira didn't wanted to come but sent her a gift.

"Yes, go and have fun. I'm fine here with my book and with my coffee."

You kissed her on the cheek and went on your way, you asked Fer if he was coming but he told you that he was about to leave to Tenerife.

"But if you wonder or not." He says with a funny tone. "Pedri will be home."

You knew that Ferran sister didn't invite him, she told you herself. So you were fine with at least not having to tip toe around.

The party was at this club that Ferran rented for her party, you loved the pink and white theme she chose.

Yourusername has added to their story

You were enjoying yourself, finding some in common friends you haven't talk to in a while, the vibes were good and the night was refreshing for you.

You were retouching your makeup at the bathroom. You heard knocking on the door, thinking that maybe they found that the downstairs bathroom was full.

You take the last look at yourself in the mirror. Adjusting you jacket and opening the door, you find the person you wanted to dissappear from this earth.

The way he roll his eyes makes you angry, he was annoyed at your presence? You should be the one that's rolling the eyes at him.

"Move, please." You say, stern tone.

"You're leaving so soon?" He smirks.

You don't think twice and push him to the side, you can hear him fall over to the little sofa that was outside the bathroom.

You walk downstairs, finding the birthday girl and saying your goodbyes to her and to Ferran, who was next to her.

You were walking to your car when you feel someone grabbing you by the arm and throwing you agains a car door.

You groan at the pain that's growing on your side. You put your hand against your ribs, you find hard to breathe.

"You really think you can treat me like shit?"

"Are you out of your right mind?" You whisper, not fully recovered from the impact. "What the fuck."

"You're such a fucking bitch, making my friends be against me, making my team be against me."

"What the fuck are you talking about? You did this to yourself, Eric"

You tried to walk away from him by pushing him but he grabbed you back and stamped you back again. Making the car alarm sound.

"Eric, what the fuck?" You hear someone yell.

You notice how Ferran was running to where you are. Pushing Eric away from you. He shield you with his body.

"Why is everybody defending her?" Eric yells, getting closer again.

"Don't fucking dare."

"I just don't get why everyone believes she's the innocent girl she pretends to be."

You scuff, he's the one mad at you as if he didn't ruined your relationship. "You were the one telling Pedri shit and making him doubt me. You ruined my relationship"

"Oh no, I ruined your little gold digging act? Are you not able to afford rent now?"

"Fuck you." You spat, feeling rage grow inside of you. "Maybe if you use that mind inside the field you would be a good player and not the trash you are."

"Enough!" Ferran yells. "You, go away." He points at Eric. "Now!"

He grabs your arm, making you walk away from the scene. You keep your hand on your side, trying to smooth the area where is hurting.

"Can you drive?" He asks, you nod slowly. "What the fuck, what the actual fuck?" He whispers.

"I'm fine, you can go back to the party, Ferran." You whisper. "Thank you."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm in shock but I'm fine, don't worry about me. Please don't let this ruin the party." You hug him, his hands on your back trying to calm you down.

Even when you don't cry or show any emotion, he knows you're not okay.

"Tell me when you're home"

"Yes, I'll dm you, thank you."

He's back inside once you're on your way at the driveway. You're on autopilot, feeling hazy from all the emotions you're feeling.

You don't even notice the turns you make until you're outside his door. You turn off the car, taking your phone to text him.

You waited for barely two minutes, the door of his house opening. You take your seat belt off and stretch to the passenger door, opening it for him.

"Hola, preciosa." He says, worried expression on his face. "Are you okay?"

"Want to go for a ride?" You ask, ignoring his question. He nods, asking you to wait for him.

Once he collects his keys and a sweater, he hup up your car and you began the drive. You have a destination in mind.

Hes quiet, not sure if he's supposed to ask you again if you're okay. He's just enjoying seeing you after so long.

"It's too cold for just that jacket." He says, eyes up and down your body.

"It's fine, it keeps me warm." You say, the stern tone of voice worries him. "Seatbealt on." You say when the annoying alarm goes off.

"Yours is off too." He points at your chest, you just groaned, putting the seatbelt on.

Your drive to the highest part of the park. The beautiful view of Barcelona at night welcome you. You turn the car off, getting out as soon as you can.

You wanted to scream.

All you wanted was peace. You wanted to feel like you used to feel before all of this. You wanted to be able to go home and find your boyfriend there or go to his place and share things about your day, share moments with him.

The hands of Pedri on your shoulders feel heavy, you take a step, making the contact break.

"Do you trust me?" You ask on the verge of tears.

"With my life." He answer, not wasting a minute.

"Then why did you do that to me?" You let the tears fall down your face. "Was I not a good girlfriend?"

"Y/n, don't say that." He shake his head no. "You were the best thing I ever had."

"Then tell me, what it was?"

"It wasn't you, it was me. All me." He elevated his voice. Not at you but at the heat of the situation. "It was all me, I was the one who got those stupid ideas in my head, I trusted you, I knew Kyle was nothing but your friend, I knew you were just friends with Pablo, I know you would never do nothing to hurt me."

"What about the day I left?" You ask, the aftertaste is bitter on your mouth.

The thought of that day bring nightmares to his mind. The things he told you, the shit he provoked. They way he pushed you over the edge to the point of making you leave.

"I don't have a problem with the way you dress, I love your style. I don't have a problem with how much you love your friends, I love your way of acting, the way you love everyone, I don't have a problem with you being friends with Pablo, I love you and I love how my friends are your friends."

He take a deep breath, feeling like the air in his lungs is not enough. Feeling like the cold air is making breathing hard.

"And I'm sorry about the way I treated you, the way I was acting, I never meant to make you feel bad about my insecurities. I was the problem. I was the one who let someone else get into my head, I was the one who made the mistakes, and i was the one who made you feel like I didn't love you."

He gets closer to you, hands on your cheeks, drying the tears. Your hold his hands with yours. "But I love you, don't ever think that I don't." He whispers, kissing the top of your nose.

You nod, grabbing his face with your hands, caressing his cheeks. You pull him towards you, pressing your foreheads together.

"I love you too." You say after a while, pulling away from him. "But I have to love myself first. And I need to see that you changed."

Even when your words burn his heart, he understand. He wanted to prove himself to be what you needed, the person you can trust. He wanted to be all that to you again. Because you're all that to you.

"I'll do anything to prove to you that I changed. I'll wait as long as you need to, I want you to trust me again."

"I miss you." You hug him, arms locking behind his neck. His hands don't miss a minute to intertwine behind your back.

"I miss you more." He kisses you neck. "I promise I will prove you that I can be the person you deserve."

You enjoyed the warmth of his body against yours. You can't help but think of how he was right and your jacket was definitely not enough. You giggle a little.

"What's that?" He asks, smiling.

"You're right, it's too cold." You sniff, feeling the cold reach every part of you.

He separates and undo the zipper of his sweater, hands on each side opening the sweater for you to hug him and get more warm.

"Now that's better." You say, kissing his collarbone, making him smile against your hair.

🪷🪷🪷

"Last christmas I have you my ass, but the very next day you fuck my best friend, this year I'm fucking you dad and I'm also fucking your cousin."

You laugh at Fer singing Cardi's remix of the Christmas song. He was helping you with baking christmas cookies over FaceTime.

Pedro and you have made amazing progress, he was proving himself day by day.

"To think that a year ago today you guys were at the top of a cliff at the park solving your issues." He jokes, making Pedro give him the finger while laughing.

"Good thing your bother knows how to redeem himself." You second Fernando's joke.

"Joer, hablan de mi como si yo no existiera y estoy aquí parado, no me imagino cuando no los pueda escuchar." He laughs, making you smile and shake tou head at him. (You guys talk about me as if I'm not standing right here, I can't imagine what you say when I'm not present)

"only good things, mi amor." You kiss his cheek.

"Bueno, yo los dejo, I have to help mom with some things at la Tasca." (Well, I'm out) he waves you goodbye and cut the FaceTime.

Pedri has added to their story

Yourusername has added to their story

You two spend the rest of the day decorating and eating the cookies. Making Pedri break his diet, but he was okay with that.

"Oye, ven pa'qui." (Hey, come here) he calls you.

you walk over to him, he's sitting on the couch. A elf hat on his head. You can't help but smile at his cuteness.

"Yes sir?" You ask.

He possess his hands on your waist, pulling you towards him and making you fall on his lap. "Do you like how the house is looking."

"Very much, I love our home." You say, hugging him. "And I love you."

He smiles at you, looking around. He can't help but feel proud of himself. He proved you that he was worth a second chance. That he was your person and that he loved you more than anything.

He was happy you were happy with him. And that was something he knew he couldn't lose. Not you, not your love and not your future together.

"I love you more."

✨️✨️✨️

🏷: @gulphulp @jack1n @girlidekanymore @gadriezmannsgirl since you asked for part 2 🤭✨️

349 notes · View notes

elderwisp · 2 months

Text

◁ || ▷ now playing

Frances: Look, I’m sorry about my friends. I swear, they aren’t that weird all the time. Well…

Icarus: [ chuckles ] It’s fine. They seem to care about you a great bunch.

Frances: I honestly think they would take a bullet for me. I’d do the same for them.

Icarus: That’s good though, I’m glad you have people looking out for you.

Frances: Would you say the same for your friends?

Icarus: Yeah, I think so. This your room?

Frances: Mhm. You can come in.

Icarus: You sure?

Frances: Or we can talk right here. Although I imagine you’re gonna get a bit tired of the drunk people running into the door.

Icarus: [ small laugh ] Good point. You like to collect a lot of things. Is this a rock?

Frances: A geode, I think if I wasn’t a music major, I’d probably be a geologist.

Icarus: You could always study for another four years.

Frances: Pfft. Absolutely not. I never want to buy another textbook again.

Icarus: Are you excited for what comes next?

Frances: Actually, about that. I need to talk to you about something.

Icarus: Is it bad?

Frances: Sort of.

Icarus: Then we can talk about it another time. We’re celebrating.

Frances: Icarus…

Icarus: You gonna deny me that?

Frances: [ shakes head ]

Icarus: Good.

Dan: Oye pendejo! Where are you going with my alcohol?!

Ares: JESUS!

Dan: It’s okay I know him. Pues?!

Atlas: No te preocupes, vamos a divertirnos! Mwah! / Don't worry, we're going to have fun!

Dan: [ grumbles ] That fucker.

Ares: Context??

Dan: He literally always does this. He always steals my alcohol!

Ares: You should beat him up.

Dan: I should- Why are you encouraging me?

Ares: I dunno. Feelin’ evil I guess. Got a light?

Dan: Now what the hell is up with you not having a lighter?

Ares: I do! I just never refill it.

Dan: I don’t even think said lighter is in the room with us.

Ares: You know there are some things I’m allowed to not be put together with and this is one of them.

Dan: Here. Keep it.

Ares: I am not keeping your things.

Dan: You sayin’ there’s something wrong with it?

Ares: I’m not doing this with you.

Dan: Oh so you hate me.

Ares: Yep, I guess I do.

Gabriel: Dan! Now why the hell were there two people making out in the entrance?

Dan: They’re still doing that?

Gabriel: I mean good for them but like… Get outta my way, you know?

Dan: Pfft! Thank you for coming!

Gabriel: Of course! I brought a bottle of wine but Gum took it.

Ares: Gum’s here? And she’s alone?

Gabriel: She’s fine. Knows exactly where I’m at, besides something caught her eye.

Frances: You’ve been practicing.

Icarus: I have a great teacher.

Frances: Man, I’m gonna miss this.

Icarus: Sit. I know you’re scared that things are changing.

Frances: Icarus, I need to-

Icarus: I’d like it if you enjoyed this moment with me. Please?

Frances: Okay.

Icarus: When do you leave?

Frances: First week of July. God, leave it to the universe to cosmically fuck up my life.

Icarus: Not even!

Frances: I mean is it selfish for me to be a tad bit unhappy? Everything I’ve worked for, built up to this very moment and it’s not enough.

Icarus: Sometimes expectations are just that. A lead up to disappointment.

Frances: I’m sorry, I’m being so negative right now. We were having a moment and I started to ramble.

Icarus: Don’t apologize. From the time I’ve known you, I can see you’re a bit of an overthinker but! Before you give me that look, it isn’t a bad thing.

Frances: It isn’t bad… It’s horrible.

Icarus: [ chuckles ] Stop it! You like to see things in every perspective and it’s endearing.

Frances: Said the only person ever.

Icarus: Why are you so keen on giving me a hard time?

Frances: Why not? I think you like it.

Icarus: I like a lot of things about you, Frances. Be here with me?

Frances: Even if it breaks my heart?

Icarus: At least you won’t be alone in that.

#feck it good morning i’m posting this rn so i can react with all of u before work #30 PICTURES?! TECHNICALLY 31?!#i will say this but the fact that icarus just knew what was coming next and frances having to experience a situation you can't control.. ah #tessellate #ts4 #simblr #sims 4 story #show us your story #tw: smoking #tw: alcohol

94 notes · View notes

scoops-aboy86 · 2 months

Text

If You Were Serious (Secret Admirer pt 7)

Okay, so there will be more than seven chapters. For now, please enjoy Steve on painkillers and creative mix tape shenanigans.

(The crossed out thing after the first "Dear" is the first line of an E.)

wc: 3226 / rated: T / set end of/after season 3 / also on ao3

Dear I

Dear Secret Amdirer,

Sorry, painkillers kicking in. I got pretty banged up in the mall, in the fire. Well, less the fire and more getting hit by stuff. Mall fell down. I have ribs and eye and nose, and concussion this time so I had to stay over at Robin’s because someone had to keep an eye on me sleeping and my parents are still out of town. Dustin said I won at upper body injury bingo but I didn’t even know I was playing, that sounds like really a shitty game.

Anyway, I haven’t been home so I don’t know if you tried to call. If you did, don’t worry!!! I’m not mad. I don’t not like you anymore just because you’re you. And this isn’t the durg drugs talking because I read your letter first before they kicked in, but I have to write this ASAP so it can get to you faster.

You could’ve called back that night but if you needed some time to breathe I get it, it’s cool. And I kinda had a feeling after that you might be a guy? Like, shit, man, they’d eat you alive in this town. Not me, I learned my lesson after Jonathan wrecked my face after I called him and his family some bad things. I deserved that. Kinda funny how the next year he stole my girlfriend and now I like you. If you could still be interested in somebody who used to be like that.

I know I like you because when you hung up I was really worried, you sounded like you were breathing really fast, maybe a panic attack? I have those after nightmares now. Robin too. (Don’t worry, we bonded and she’s like my sister now, she says we’re playdoh soulmates

“Oh my god, I knew explaining who Plato was was a bad idea. It’s platonic, Steve, not Play-Doh.”

“Stop reading over my shoulder! … How do you spell that?”

“P-L-A-T-O-N-I-C.”

“Thanks Robbie.”

she says we’re playdoh soulmates platonic soulmates.) I was worried about you and thought maybe you might be a guy but, that wasn’t as important as wanting you to be okay, you know? You still wrote me all those nice letters. You’ve made me feel really good about myself, why does it have to be different just because you’re not a girl? I can’t tell you why Robin knows about this stuff but she says I might be bysix bisexual. Not sure why I need a big fancy word for it when I didn’t have one for liking girls, I just know I care about you a lot and want you to like me.

And you’re not a coward, you’re very very brave. You reached out first, you went for what you wanted even when I didn’t get it and tried to ask for too much too soon. And then you kept coming back to try again, even though I kept doing that. That’s so brave.

I’m not feeling so awake anymore so I’m going to stop and have Robin mail this for me. (No way am I going out dressed like this. Her dad wears grandpa shorts dude, it’s pretty bad.) I’ll write more when I’m feeling better. Are you okay? Hope you weren’t anywhere near the mall the other night. Thanks for the rainbow song I will look for it.

Love Steve

Once Eddie is done reading, he screams into his pillow for a different reason. Several, actually.

First, he’s been so sure for the past week or so that he would never hear from Steve ever again. The only reason he’d checked his mail today was because he should have another zine coming in soon. He didn’t, but there was a yellow envelope with familiar, if slightly messier than usual handwriting on it. And inside that, stationary with colorful geometric shapes along the edges that Eddie now surmises is Robin’s.

Second, Steve isn’t even writing to tell him to fuck off right to hell. Because yes, Eddie had heard the rumors about Steve calling Jonathan Byers a queer. The irony does send a seam of semi-hysterical laughter through his screams. It’s fine. It’s fine!

Third, Steve hasn’t been avoiding his calls. He just hasn’t been home. He’s hurt, and it sounds like his head and torso took quite a beating. Eddie remembers seeing him around school both times after the other concussions and that had looked bad enough, and that had just been his face. This sounds worse.

Fourth, Steve is… still interested? Has talked to someone about this and might be bisexual?! Eddie’s never had anyone talk to someone else about him, has always been completely anonymous with a possible option of becoming a dirty little secret. And then the letter ends with ‘Love Steve.’ Love? Love Steve?!

Fifth, Robin knows he sent Steve that ice cream. Eddie doesn’t know what all “platonic soulmates” entails, but what if she tells him? What if she already has?!

Sixth, despite being injured, and having panic attacks apparently, Steve is still asking if he is okay.

Seventh, beneath his name Steve had also doodled a lopsided happy face with what he can only guess is an ice pack balanced on top. Or… maybe it’s hair. Or some kind of hat.

Any of these would be enough to make his head spin on their own, but it’s all happening at once and he doesn’t know what to do. So he screams into his pillow for a while longer, kicking his feet for good measure.

He wants to rush out and find Steve, wherever he is. Wants to call him, but doesn’t know what he would say even if he did know the number to reach him right now. What he could say. Wants to wrap both arms around him and kiss his poor head better. Hell, if he’s turned Steve gay he doesn’t just want, he deserves to make that guy the little spoon for the first time in his life probably and just. Hold him.

Except… he’s not sure he’s ready for face to face yet. He will be! Soon. Once all the emotions bubbling in his chest have settled a little. And after he’s pinched himself a few million more times just to make sure. But until then…

A thought occurs to him, and Eddie rolls over to frown consideringly up at the ceiling. He’s sent Steve words to comfort and reassure him before, right? Maybe there’s something else he can send, a different way of offering a part of himself to Steve until he works up the nerve to face him for real.

It’s just going to take him a little time, and some recording equipment.

Dearest Steve,

I hope this address is still okay to write to you while you stay with your friend, but I don’t know where she lives.

You have no idea

Holy shit man. Holy shit. Are you serious? No, strike that, you’ve been nothing but genuine in these letters and I trust you, I do. Holy shit though. It’s you. Clearly I never thought I’d actually have a chance, from the way I approached this whole thing, so you must forgive me for how utterly poleaxed, completely flabbergasted, and genuinely gobsmacked I am.

And shit, I’m still sorry for hanging up on you. That golden years line—and this heavy secret of the most basic fact of who I am weighing on my shoulders, pressing down so hard I couldn’t breathe. I wish I’d just said something. But you’re right, I needed… space? And a push, to work up to writing the last letter I sent you. I got yours the day I put that in the mail, by the way, and that spun me even more because what if you read mine and took it all back?

But you didn’t. You didn’t, sweetheart. I’m still reeling in the best possible way. Again, axed like a pole, flabbers gasted, and gob thoroughly smacked.

Enough about me. More than enough about me. You’re concussed; I ought to wrap that gorgeous head of yours in bubble wrap and offer to fight all your battles henceforth, even against falling buildings. I’m glad you have someone out there who’s looking out for you though. I guess… you’ve told Robin about some things? Maybe these letters? Which is absolutely fine, by the way. It’s great! Fuck knows it wouldn’t have occurred to me to explain what bisexuality is, since I hardly dared to dream so big and only swing the one way myself. You’re an amazingly open-minded person by the way, Steve; I hope you know how rare that is, especially in a place like Hawkins. And Robin too, apparently. Please give her my highest regards, she is an angel among mortals and an inadvertent champion of this sad wet rag of a human being (me).

At any rate, wishing you the speediest of recoveries and I hope you’re already feeling at least a little better. My condolences on the grandpa shorts, although personally I’m convinced you could wear a trash bag and still look like an Adonis.

It’s taken me a little longer than I’d like to send this because I made something for you. Enclosed is a tape with some of the songs from our call that you said you liked, played acoustically by yours truly. Rainbow In The Dark is one of them. You mentioned having nightmares, and whenever I had bad dreams as a kid my mom would play for me until I calmed down. She’d hum instead of doing the words, to make it more like a lullaby. I hope it’s at least a decent distraction, sweetheart.

Let me know if you like it? I can make one of your favorite songs too, just you let me know what they are. In the meantime, I remain, as always—

Your Secret Admirer

“You should tell him that you know,” Robin whispers, at some point during the fourth night in a row they’ve ended up crashed on the same bed listening to the Anti-Panic Attack Metal Mix.

Her dad sleeps like the dead and her mom sleeps with earplugs in because he snores, so they get away with it, but Steve always insists on laying on top of the covers anyway. The friendship is still new, for all that they’re trauma bonded, and he wants to make sure she knows he’s not getting any funny ideas, that he gets the whole lesbian thing, that even though he’s new to being into a dude he’s committed to it and not wishy-washy or greedy or whatever.

He fiddles with a loose string on the blanket for a minute before answering. “No… I don’t want to freak him out again. It’s all going to be on his terms from here on out, no more pushing.”

“Well you’ve got to do something. Come on Steve, I’m invested now. Ask to meet him.”

He rolls his eyes. “What did I just say?”

Immediately he gives an inward wince, because that came out bitchy. But Robin just snorts and murmurs “Fine,” sounding amused rather than offended, so he relaxes.

They exist in silence for a while, side by side. Just close enough to not feel alone, drifting on the soft notes and low, rich hum. It’s soothing.

“What if,” Robin starts, and ignores Steve’s huff. “What if you go somewhere you know he might show, and then give him the opportunity to talk to you?”

“Oh yeah,” he scoffs, “like what?”

“Summer house party.” Her whisper picks up a little in excitement as she warms to her own idea. “I bet we can find one that’s coming up soon. Everyone knows that Munson sells, it’s one of those never invited but always welcome things. Then if he doesn’t come to you, just buy some weed and see if he says anything.”

“No,” Steve whispers back.

She rolls over to squint at him in the dark. “Just think about it, okay? You wouldn’t be forcing him to do anything, just… providing an opportunity. Come on, Stevie-evie, this is my chance to see a gay love story go right.”

“Vetoing that nickname.” With a sigh, he rolls onto his side too, facing her. “My face still looks like raw hamburger meat, Robs. I have like zero charm right now.”

The swelling has gone down, at least to where he can open his eye again but the bruising remains spectacular. It looks like a sunset exploded across the side of his face, and not in a good way.

Robin rolls her eyes. “You’re more than just your face, dingus. It wasn’t your rugged jawline, sculpted cheekbones, or pimple-free forehead that wrote those letters, it was you. Steve.”

He goes to wrinkle his nose at the descriptions, but quickly remembers that’s still a bad idea with a swallowed grunt. “Please, never describe me again.”

“I make no promises. And anyway, if you’re willing to try makeup I think we could get most of it covered so no one’ll ever notice. Not at night, anyway.”

That gives him pause. He rolls onto his back again to think about it, staring up at the ceiling of Robin’s bedroom and tracing imaginary constellation lines between the glow in the dark stars she has up there. Beside him, he feels her settling on her back too without having to look.

It’s not like when he’d found a little brother in Dustin—who has visited pretty much every day during Steve’s convalescence, sometimes with Erica or Mike, Lucas, and Max in tow, spouting off things he’s read in books about the various still-healing injuries. As annoying as it is, Steve appreciates that the little dork took the time to study what’s wrong with him enough to provide armchair diagnoses and give him advice about things that he already knows.

Robin is… more of a twin than a sister. (Which, yeah, twin sister, whatever. That’s not the point.) They’re on the same wavelength in a way he’s never experienced before, not with Tommy or Carol or even Nancy. The closest thing Steve has ever had to this was during basketball games, in the heat of a play where everyone on the team knew where everyone was and where they’d be and how to work together as a unit, perfectly in sync. Only with Robin, it’s all the time. Sometimes they can even finish each other’s sentences—though they try not to do that around her parents, in the interest of not wanting them to think they’re a couple.

They’re more like a pair of bonded kittens at the pound, Robin says. Must be adopted together. (“Okay, but why can’t we be dogs? Dogs are cooler.” “Because, dingus, you have a one-hundred-and-twenty-seven step hair and skin routine and you’re incredibly aloof when you want to be. I could go either way, but you’re one hundred percent cat.”)

“Maybe,” he whispers finally.

He’s not sure she’s still awake—he’s not sure he’s still awake, with the soothing music lulling him back to a calm he hadn’t felt even before he’d gone to bed the first time. But he wants to think she hears it, just like he wants to think that he’ll run into Eddie and find out what it’s like to hold his hand, maybe even kiss him, all in the same night. He’s worn lip gloss, he can deal with a little makeup.

“Maybe I’ll go.”

Dear Secret Admirer,

Thank you for the tape, it’s perfect. It helps me get back to sleep because it feels like you’re there, watching over me. Like nothing bad can happen. Sometimes the nightmares still come back after but I think it’s getting better. It takes a while, you know? Last time, after the after Billy after my last concussion it took a while to stop having bad dreams. I guess the mind needs time to heal too, even if the stuff that happens to it isn’t as “real” as breaking a nose or a rib. Who knew?

I really am serious, yeah. Even though I’m me. Whatever that means. I don’t really know what to do with myself or what I want right now. (Except you. Kind of cheesy, but maybe you like that about me? I guess it’s something I always tried to hide before because the guys would’ve made fun of me, fuck knows Tommy did all of junior year, but I kind of like the idea that maybe you saw it anyway.) Once my face heals up me and Robin are going to try and get jobs together somewhere else because we’re cats that have to stick together or we’ll get stressed out and claw all the furniture. Other than that I don’t know what I want to do except leave Hawkins someday. But stick around to make sure it’s to see the kids graduate. Dustin’s starting high school in the fall, maybe you could keep an eye out for him? Curly hair, no collarbones, ego bigger than the whole state, total nerd but in a good way, even if he’s sometimes a butthead about it. He plays that game with dragons and those weird looking dice, do you know it? Him and his friends Mike and Lucas are kind of bully magnets. (Max is starting freshman year too but she can take care of herself in that department.) They’ve all been pretty down after the mall and with Will and moving away and everything. Erica, Lucas’ little sister, I guess I’m her “babysitter” now too, is still in middle school but I don’t know if she’d be glad or insulted if I waited around to see her graduate. She can take care of herself too. She and Dustin were with us for most of the Starcourt burning down and it was a lot, but kids are resilient. I don’t think she gets nightmares, not that she would ever admit to anyone if she did even though in her own words “we’ve bled together.” She’s getting into the nerdy dice game too and is planning her campaign for President of the USA as soon as she turns, what, 40? 50? Whatever age you have to be before you can do that. I’ll probably still be in a town like Hawkins with another lame retail job by then, but she’s got my vote. She’d do a hell of a lot better job than Regan, that’s for sure.

Is your mom My mom never sang to

Also, you are really good at guitar, man. I still think about your hands, I bet you have long fingers. Really… What’s a word for ‘good with his fingers’? I think about that sometimes. I don’t really know what kind of stuff two guys can do together except the obvious but I think about that a lot. I want you to play me like your guitar. I’d let you fight my battles too, at least until my ribs get back to normal and then we can both fight both of our battles. You know I’d do that for you, right? If you ever need me. I really like these letters. I really like you.

Love, Steve

P.S. If you were serious about making me another tape (which you really don’t have to, this was already going above and beyond), my favorite songs are…

Tag list (and if you missed the earlier chapters check the "#secret admirer steddie" tag on my blog): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites

@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @whalesharksart

@thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @dauntlessdiva

@nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever @goosesister

@dolphincliffs @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @beckkthewreck @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @kurofuckingshi16

@bookworm0690 @millseyes-world @live-laugh-love-dietrich @the-tenth-mus-e

#steddieweek2024 #scoops words #secret admirer steddie #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic stobin

121 notes · View notes