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keeryhours · 6 hours ago

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teen pregnancy series - eddie munson part 1

Eddie Munson x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Teen Pregnancy Series Masterlist

Summary:

A broken condom leads to the end of your life as you knew it.

Part 2

Warnings:

Smut (18+), oral (m and f receiving), p in v, fingering, pregnancy, threatened miscarriage, drug use (weed), shitty parents, Al Munson

Word Count: 19.2k

A/N:

I am literally the most impatient person in the world so here’s part 1 early! Part 2 will be out very soon, I’m locked in. Thank you @glassbxttless for my banner and for reading this ❤️

You loved waking up next to Eddie.

The soft rise and fall of his breathing, the wild way his hair would be splayed out across the pillow, his lips parted as he snored lightly, the peaceful look on his handsome face. Sometimes you would just watch him sleep. Other times you would trace his tattoos until he woke with a smile.

“Mornin’, beautiful,” he’d say, his voice still dripping with sleep.

“Good morning yourself,” you’d say back.

This was what it was like most mornings you woke up with Eddie. It wasn’t hard to sneak into his place at night. Your parents went to sleep at 9pm on the dot, all too easy to slip out your window and to your bike. You didn’t even have to sneak into Eddie’s, the front door was fine - Wayne worked nights, and you didn’t think he’d care either way. Wayne loved you.

There was nothing quite like sleeping in Eddie’s arms. It was your safe place. Warm and cozy, like being enveloped in pure love. It was no wonder you’d rather spend the night there than in your cold bed alone with parents who didn’t particularly like you anyway.

It was the alarm that woke you up this day. Fucking school day. The alarm clock blared bright and early at 5:30am - earlier than Eddie would usually get up, but it took you a bit longer to get ready.

You shut the alarm off so as not to wake Eddie up too much and sat up in bed with a big stretch and a yawn. Eddie grabbed onto your arm as you were climbing out of bed.

“Don’t go,” he mumbled, not even moving his face from where it was half buried in his pillow and covered by his disheveled hair.

“I gotta get ready, baby,” you told him. “We have school.”

“Fuck school,” he said, voice muffled.

You laughed. “Babe, we have to go.”

He shuffled closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. “I just wanna stay in bed with you all day.”

“I want that too,” you said, and god, you did. “But we can’t.”

Eddie groaned but relented, letting you get up. You slid off the bed, turning for one last look at him. He was sleeping on his belly, arms wrapped around his pillow. His head was turned to the side, but you couldn’t see any of his face for all the hair. The comforter rested just at his hips, and he was naked beneath it. You admired his body, his tattoos, the slightest glimpse of the curve of his ass before the blanket hid it away from your eyes. You have to force yourself to look away.

Naked yourself, you slip on one of Eddie’s shirts and a pair of panties you’d packed for now. You yawned again as you walked out of Eddie’s room and down the hall to the bathroom. Wayne was asleep on the fold out bed in the living room, probably just now passed out from work. You started up the shower, the finicky faucet taking a few minutes to get to the right temperature.

When you were satisfied, you stripped again, sitting a towel on the side of the sink and then climbing into the hot water. You always kept some shower stuff at Eddie’s, god knows you were over at his place enough.

You closed your eyes under the torrent of water. At least the water pressure at the trailer was good. You were just about to start shampooing your hair when you felt a familiar pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, a head on your shoulder, kissing your neck.

You melted back into the embrace, a smile crossing your lips. You could feel him hard behind you, his kisses on your neck turning needier and sloppy, biting down every now and then. He always liked to mark you up.

“Need you,” he grumbled against your skin, fingers tightening on your body as if to prove his point.

You chuckled breathlessly. “Last night wasn’t enough for you?”

“Never enough,” he growled. “You know I can’t control myself when you’re in my house, taking showers, walking around like this. And all mine.”

You gasped when he spun you around, pressing your back against the shower wall and kissing you deeply, aggressively. You kissed him back just as eagerly, your fingers tangling in his wet hair. He lifted your leg, his tip pressing against your entrance, then- “Fuck. No condom.”

“Like at all?” you asked, furrowing your brows.

“We used our last ones last night. I need to buy more.” He groaned, forehead falling onto your shoulder. “Shit!”

“It’s okay,” you said, trailing a hand up his side. “I can still get you off?”

He leaned back to look at you. “Are you sure? You don’t have to. I feel bad.”

“Don’t feel bad,” you said, looking up at him with wide innocent eyes as you sunk to your knees. “I want to make you feel good.”

“Oh shit,” Eddie whispered, cock twitching as he watched you get on your knees for him. The way you looked up at him from down there was…fuck, he’d never seen anything like it. No porno in the world could ever compare.

His hand slid through your hair as you opened your mouth for him, he tapped his cock on your tongue, rubbing the underside of it there, a low groan spilling unwillingly from his lips.

“We have to be quiet,” he said, “Wayne is right out there.”

“I think you should be telling yourself that, big boy,” you teased. You wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked, and he lurched forward, free hand landing on the shower wall behind you.

He let out a low “Ahhhh”, a mix between a hiss and a moan as you took him further into your mouth. “That’s my girl.”

You moaned around him, deep throating his impressive length properly as he watched you in amazement, his eyes half lidded, lips parted. His hand caressed the side of your head as you pleasured him, like he was so appreciative but didn’t know the words to say, if there were any. Maybe the best thanks he could give you is just to enjoy it now - and bury himself between your thighs until he can’t breathe later. Maybe you’d sit on his face. He fucking loved that.

“Baby, baby,” he moaned in a near whisper, delicious groans spilling from his lips after. “You’re so fuckin’ good at this.”

You hummed around him, making his hips jerk into your mouth. You always knew exactly how to get him going, exactly what made him weak in the knees, what made him fall apart. And oh, was he falling apart above you.

His breathing turned to pants, his slender tattooed chest rising and falling rapidly. His hand tightened in your hair, thighs beginning to shake.

“Gonna cum,” he warned you in a whisper. “Fuck, I’m- don’t stop, I’m so close-“

You didn’t stop. You worked even harder, working for what he was about to give you, showing him how bad you wanted it - needed it. You bobbed your head on his cock quickly, tongue working the underside, and his expression looked pained.

“Fuck,” he panted. “Baby, baby, I-“

He threw his head back with a cry as it hit him, his dick pulsing as he shot his cum into your waiting mouth. He quickly looked back down, watching you take it, watching you swallow every drop of what he was giving you as he moaned, seemingly forgetting all about being quiet.

When you pulled off of him, he was leaning against the shower wall. He looked like a total vision like this, lean naked body against the wall, wet hair hanging down his shoulders, breathing heavily and dripping wet. You had the intense urge to lick every inch of his body.

“Fuckin’ incredible,” he finally said, pulling you to him again and kissing you. He didn’t care that there was still the slightest bit of him still on your tongue. He licked into your mouth anyway, tasting all of you, the mixture of the two of you. “I want to devour you, baby, please.”

“We don’t have time,” you said regrettably. “But later.” A wink.

Eddie smirked at you as you both continued with your shower, washing your hair and washing each other’s bodies. Eddie was hard again by the time the shower was over, but there was no time for more.

You stepped out with a towel around your body and one around your hair. Eddie grabbed one and wrapped it around his waist. God, he looked so hot like this.

“Let me help you,” you said. You grabbed the curl cream you had bought him and put some in your hands, rubbing the product through Eddie’s hair. The poor guy had no idea how to take care of his curls before you met him. His hair was always so frizzy, and one day you were just like - “You know it doesn’t have to be that way, right?”

Eddie closed his eyes and hummed as you did his hair. He had to admit, he absolutely loved when you did this. It was so relaxing. He had never had someone take care of his hair for him. He barely did it himself before you.

When he was taken care of, you did your own hair while Eddie brushed his teeth then shaved. You brushed your own teeth then applied your makeup while he splashed his familiar aftershave on his cheeks.

He pulled on his boxers and you snuck back to his room in your towel. You knew there was nothing to worry about, Wayne slept after work until the afternoon. You searched through your overnight bag, finding the skirt and top you planned to wear today.

Eddie couldn’t handle how put together you looked. His beautiful girl. He couldn’t believe you were his.

He pulled his jeans on with a Hellfire shirt and his denim jacket. “You know you can leave some clothes and stuff over here?”

“I already do,” you giggled, thinking of the multiple bras and underwear sets stuffed in his dresser, the curling iron you kept here, the shower stuff and self care.

“Yeah but…” He shrugged. “You could keep more. Keep a whole wardrobe here, I don’t care. You sleep here more than at your own house anyway.”

“Edward Munson,” you said, lightly slapping his chest with a smile. “Are you trying to get me to move in?”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” he asked, sliding his arms around your waist.

“Baby,” you said, a slight giggle. “We’re still in high school.”

“Yeah, but we’re both adults, technically. I’m almost 20, you’re 18…”

“You still live with your uncle, and I don’t think there’s a world where my parents would allow it, Eddie.”

The mention of your parents soured the mood. Your parents sucked. They were mean, self centered snobs, and they hated Eddie. They never even seemed that crazy about you.

“Fuck your parents,” Eddie said, a sentiment he held often. “You’re a big girl.”

You shook your head, a smile playing at your lips. “Maybe after high school? I don’t want to intrude on Wayne either.”

“Wayne loves you.”

“He already has one freeloader,” you teased.

“Hey!” he said, mock offended. “I’ll have you know my dealing business brings in lots of money.”

The drug dealing was a sore subject. You hated that he did it, but he wasn’t willing to give it up. He made a lot of money from it, enough to help out Wayne and take you on dates and get things he wanted and needed. In his mind, it was a great gig. In your own, you saw visions of Eddie in handcuffs, Hopper carting him off to jail. You said nothing about it.

“We need to get going,” you said instead. “I don’t want to be late.”

Eddie looked at you for a moment. Finally he nodded, snatching his keys off the table. “Alright. Let’s go.”

You walked out to his van with your backpack slung over your shoulder. He opened the door for you like he always did, and you climbed in. The old van took a couple tries to start, but ultimately did.

“Need to get her checked out,” Eddie mumbled. “Could probably do it myself.”

Eddie was great with cars. And he loved them. He was the sole reason this van was still running at all, the amount of work he’d put into it was insane.

It didn’t take long to pull into the parking lot of Hawkins High. It was packed as always. You saw your best friend Robin by Steve Harrington’s car - Steve, who didn’t even go here anymore - and you smiled and waved back at her.

“Go see Robs,” Eddie encouraged as he killed the engine. “I’ve got to catch up with the guys about our campaign tonight.”

Fuck. The campaign.

“Should I get a ride home with Robin and Steve?”

“Maybe?” Eddie said sheepishly. “Or I can run you home before we start.”

“It’s fine,” you said, “I’ll catch a ride with them. You guys have fun. It’s the big one, right?”

“Yep,” Eddie said with pride. “The end of the campaign. These fuckers have no idea what I have in store for them.”

You laughed. “I’m sure it’s a sadistic as ever.”

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt, opening your door. “I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Of course, beautiful.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips, a reminder of all you’d done together since last night and all the things you would do together next time you were alone.

You hopped out and met up with Robin as Eddie sauntered into the building. “Hey, Robs!”

“Hey!” She pulled you into a hug. “Are you ready for Mrs. O’Donnell’s test?”

You groaned. “No. I completely forgot.”

Her eyes widened. “Did you study?”

You blushed. “I was a little busy last night.”

“Busy?” She gave you a look. “Girl.”

“I know! I know.”

“There are more important things in life than fucking your boyfriend!”

“Well, now that’s debatable.”

Robin groaned, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the school. “You’re hopeless, you know that?” She turned back over her shoulder. “Bye, Steve!”

“Oh, can I get a ride home with you and Steve after school?” you asked. “Eddie has the end of his campaign, it’s going to take forever.”

“Yeah, of course. Steve won’t care. He’s like everybody’s chauffeur.”

—

You were home by yourself that night, snacking on popcorn in your pajamas - classic big t-shirt and short shorts combo. When the phone started to ring, you groaned.

“Hello?” you answered, resting the phone between your ear and shoulder.

“Baby,” the answer came from the other end, and you smiled, all irritation gone.

“Hey,” you said. “How was the campaign?”

“It was great!” he said enthusiastically. “The guys actually beat it. I can’t believe it. It was awesome.”

“I’m glad you had fun.” You popped another piece of popcorn into your mouth. “What’s up?”

Eddie’s voice dropped an octave. “Wayne left for work and I was just thinking about you…”

You smirked. “Yeah? Thinking about what?”

“Baby…” he said again, and you could practically picture him on his back in bed with the phone, shirtless, rubbing his hard bulge through his jeans. You could hear music playing over his speakers in the background. “Come over. Please.”

You felt a throbbing between your legs as you listened to his low, sultry voice, dripping with desire, all for you. Your hot boyfriend, desperate for you. Wanting nothing more than to be inside of you.

“I’ll be there in 15,” you said. You heard a low chuckle from the other end before you hung up, hurrying upstairs to slip some jeans on and grab your bag. You locked up downstairs, made it look like you were asleep in your room and locked it from inside, and slipped out the window.

The night air brushed your hair back as you rode your bike to Forest Hills. You lived in a pretty nice neighborhood, your parents never approved of you spending so much time in a trailer park. It didn’t matter that you were much happier at Eddie’s than at home.

You rode the downhill momentum to Eddie’s trailer, parking it next to the front door. Eddie opened the door for you before you even reached it, a wide grin on his face. He was shirtless, low jeans exposing the V leading down below that you wanted to see more of.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted, stepping back and holding the door wide for you to walk in.

“Hi,” you said. Eddie closed the door behind you. “Wanna go to your room?”

“Not wasting any time, huh, princess?” Eddie asked, sliding up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. He kissed slowly up your neck, nipping every now and then. You melted back against him, eyes dropping closed as you moaned.

“Did you get condoms?” you asked.

“I did.” He slid the box from his back pocket, holding it up for you between his pointer and middle finger.

“Large instead of extra large?” you teased, looking at the writing on the package.

Eddie shrugged. “They didn’t have any bigger. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Eddie knew he was big, but he didn’t let it go to his head. Well, most of the time. He led you down the hall to his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He was kissing you like you were the air he needed to breathe, the only thing keeping him grounded to this reality. His hands roamed your body, sending tingles through your skin. Every now and then you’d break from one another, gasping for air for only a moment before your lips found each other again.

You fell back onto his bed as he tossed the condoms onto his bedside table and he kissed up your body from your ankles back to your lips, tongue exploring your mouth with an eagerness. He undid your jeans and pulled them down your legs, savoring every inch of skin he uncovered, even though he’d just fucked you multiple times last night. Enough didn’t exist for him when it came to you.

His hands slid up your top next, kissing your stomach and your tits as he uncovered them. No bra beneath, which had him groaning. His lips wrapped around one of your nipples, tongue swirling around it as he sucked, moaning against your skin.

“Eddie,” you moaned, back arching slightly off the bed. “Fuck.”

He switched to your other nipple, never one to neglect any part of your perfect body. Eddie’s hand slipped beneath your panties, fingers tracing through your soaking folds.

“So wet for me,” he commented, his voice low as he bit down gently on your skin, earning a gasp. “Love how wet you get for me. Desperate, pretty little thing.”

You could have said something about how he was just as desperate for you with how painfully rock hard he was and that you could feel it even through his jeans, but you couldn’t form words with the way he was slipping a finger inside of you, his thumb playing with your clit, rubbing circles. He slipped in a second finger, pumping them in and out while he pressed down harder on your clit.

“Eddie, Eddie,” you moaned, mind deliriously hazy, grinding your pussy down against him.

He kissed down your body, slipping your panties off and then replacing his thumb with his mouth, his tongue flicking your clit before he pushed his two fingers back in, curling them deep, pressing right against that spot he somehow always knew how to find immediately.

“Eddie!” you cried out, grabbing onto one of his pillows and burying your face in it. Eddie chuckled against you, but didn’t relent. He was determined to have you fall completely apart for him, determined to have you cumming all over his tongue and fingers.

You felt like you were floating above the clouds, Eddie’s sinful tongue taking you straight to heaven. He wrapped his free hand around your thigh, burying himself as deep into your cunt as he possibly could. He was starving for you, and he was completely content if this was how he died.

Your body was filled with liquid heat, the coil tightening in your belly. You pulled on his long hair, earning a groan from Eddie, his fingers pumping faster, lips sucking harder on your sensitive clit.

“Gonna cum, Ed,” you moaned, body writhing on the bed, the pleasure almost too much for you. Your words only made Eddie go harder, rutting his hips against the bed for some friction on his throbbing dick.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie!”

You fell apart calling his name over and over again. Half the trailer park had to know what the two of you got up to on a near nightly basis, but at least Wayne wasn’t home. Eddie worked you through your orgasm, moaning as he lapped up everything you gave him, cock twitching at the feeling of you tightening, pulsing around his fingers.

Eddie pulled his fingers out of you, placing one last kiss against your pussy as he moved back to look over your naked body, chest heaving, tits and pussy on full display, skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat.

“You look beautiful like this,” Eddie said, his own lips and chin wet with the remains of your climax as he smirked down at you. “I can’t wait to get inside you.”

You whimpered at his words as Eddie undid his belt, his eyes locked on yours. He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pushing them and his boxers down until his cock sprung free. He shed them from his body, leaving both of you naked.

He kissed all over your body again, sending tingles through your skin. Eddie always liked to take his time with you, liked to savor it. You fucked all the time, but it was never any less sacred to him. You reached between you and grabbed his cock, making him groan. You could feel it throbbing in your hand. He was so needy tonight.

“You ready for me baby?” he asked, reaching for the unopened box of condoms on his table. He ripped open the box, pulling out a foil packet that was smaller than usual.

“Yes,” you whined. “Need you in me.”

Eddie ripped the packet open with his teeth, examining the rubber. He shrugged, starting to roll it onto his cock. He hissed. “Tight fit.”

“You sure it’s gonna be okay…?” you asked, watching Eddie struggle to get the condom over his impressive length.

“Yeah, it’s…I got it,” he grunted, finally getting it all the way on. It technically fit, just not well. “I am not missing out on fucking you tonight.”

“I guess if it works…” You bit the side of your lip, eyeing him.

“Oh, I’m gonna make it work.” He kissed at your neck again, reaching between your bodies to line his tip up at your entrance. He trailed it through your folds, getting himself nice and wet. He pressed against your hole again. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, and then drew in a sharp gasp as Eddie pushed his cock inside.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned. “Fuck, you never get any less tight. Shit, babe.”

And he never got any less huge. As many times as you’d had sex at this point, it never got any less intense. It had actually hurt the first time - at least that went away. You hadn’t been a virgin, but damn.

He set a pace rolling his hips into you deep, fucking you slowly and sensually. Making love to you. He couldn’t stop kissing you everywhere, couldn’t control the way you made him feel like he was going to explode with how much he loved you and how good you made him feel.

“My beautiful girl,” he cooed, big hands holding your thighs up against your chest. He had the perfect view of your pussy taking his cock, he could watch every inch of himself sinking into you. He wished he had a camera - he’d love to have this view to look at whenever he wanted.

“Feels so good, Eds,” you moaned, rolling your hips up as much as you could to meet his thrusts at his pace. Your bodies were working together in perfect synchronicity, a beautiful harmony of bodies and passion and love.

“Can I go faster?” he asked, out of breath from his efforts of keeping himself under control. “Can I fuck you?”

“Please,” you cried. “Please.”

Eddie began snapping his hips into you faster, harder. The sounds of your moans and skin meeting filled the small room, drowning out the soft music over the stereo. His headboard banged into the wall with every thrust, chipping the paint.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” he groaned, his head thrown back and eyes closed. You were addicted to watching the way his muscles in his neck and chest flexed, clenched. Like he was holding back.

But god, the feeling of his cock pounding into you mercilessly like this? It was unreal.

He pulled out of you abruptly, but before you could complain about it he was flipping you onto your stomach. He spread your legs slightly and mounted you from behind, slipping back in with ease.

You gasped again at the intrusion, but this angle somehow felt even better. You looked over at the mirror on his dresser, watching as he pounded you from behind, looking down at you like he wanted to devour you whole. You could see his whole body, the way his thighs clenched with every thrust into you, the slightest jiggle of his ass, the way his hands were gripping your ass so tightly it would leave marks.

“Oh, god,” you whined so quiet you didn’t even think he could hear you.

“Doing so good, baby. That’s it,” he grunted. “Just take it, take me, let me fuck you like you deserve to be fucked.”

You were falling apart. You felt like you were frantically clinging to the edge of a cliff, the precipice of your undoing. “Eddie, I’m gonna cum again.”

He groaned, fucking you faster. “Yeah, that’s it princess. Let yourself go for me. Wanna feel you cum on this cock.”

You grabbed onto the pillow, biting down onto it as you started to see stars, your eyes rolling back as you came for the second time.

“Ah! Ah!” Eddie was gasping and groaning from behind you, the way your pussy was clenching around him was driving him crazy. “Fuck, ‘m close.”

“Please cum for me,” you begged him. “Please. I need it, need to have it.”

Eddie groaned loudly. “Fuck! Yeah, baby, go on and take it. Take the way I’m fucking you. Take this fucking load. Shit!”

He stilled deep inside you, as deep as he could go. He moaned and moaned into your neck, cock pulsing as he came. “Ah! Fuck, fuckfuckfuck-“

You were both gasping for breath, both completely spent. Eddie didn’t want to move from on top of you - he could have fallen asleep right there. You were in such a dreamy post-sex trance, you might have just let him. Let him sleep with his cock in you.

But he had to move. He pulled out of you, rubbing your back as he did. Then, you felt him freeze behind you.

“Oh shit,” he said, clear panic rising in his voice that only set your own anxiety off. “Uh-“ He was nearly

hyperventilating. “Shit shit shit. Shit! Fuck!”

“What??” you asked, turning and sitting up in the bed, equally panicked just from his reaction.

Eddie held up the condom - the ripped, empty condom.

Your blood went ice cold. “Ed-“

“Fuck, what the fuck are we gonna do?” Eddie asked, in pure panic mode. “What if I got you-“

“That hasn’t happened yet,” you said quickly. “Some people have sex for years without getting pregnant, you know? Just because you…finished inside, doesn’t mean I’m necessarily pregnant.”

Eddie wanted to listen to your voice of reason, but it wasn’t helping. He knew the risks of what had happened. He knew how bad his odds were. You were young, healthy. Teenagers. Still in high school. And with his luck…

“Fuck,” he said, sitting on the edge of his bed. He angrily threw the broken condom into the trash can before covering his face with his hands.

“Baby…” you said, your voice small. “Are you mad?”

“Not at you,” he said, turning and taking your hands. “God, never at you. I’m mad I was such an idiot. I never should have used those condoms. I’m a fucking dumbass.”

You looked at him, sympathetic for how hard he was being on himself. “You didn’t know. It’s okay.” You squeezed his hands. “We’re in this together no matter what, right?”

Eddie was quiet for a minute. “What if I just ruined your life? All because I couldn’t hold off for a day.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him. “What do you mean?”

“If you’re…if I got you…” He looked like he couldn’t even say the word. He turned forward, resting his arms on his legs. “It’s going to ruin your life. You’re so smart, baby, you have so much you can do. My life…well, I’m on my third senior year attempt, so I don’t see college in my future. I’m a drug dealer. I still live with my uncle. I’m going to drag you down.”

“Eddie, that is not true,” you said sternly. “Don’t ever talk bad about yourself like that. You are not dragging me down.”

“Everything I said is a fact,” he said sadly. “You’re…you’re better than me, princess. I would hate myself if I tied you down with a baby right now.”

“Eddie.” You turned his head to look at you. “I don’t feel any of those things. I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And if we…well, we’ll face it together if it happens, yeah?”

Eddie considered your words. Finally he nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Eddie, I love you. More than anything.” You kissed his cheek.

“I love you too, baby girl,” he said, moving to kiss you again. His lips lingered against yours, the kiss lasting longer than intended. He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

“You’re too good for me, you know that?” he said.

You shook your head. You heard that enough from your parents, you didn’t need him saying it too. “Not true.”

He smiled softly at you, like he didn’t quite believe you. But he didn’t push the matter, taking your hand and kissing each knuckle. “I love you.”

“And we’re in this together,” you said. “We’re in this life together. No matter what.”

A small smile. “No matter what.”

—

Three weeks later, you missed your period.

Every day you checked, looking to see if it had finally come, just late enough to give you the scare of your life and teach you a real lesson. How could we have been so stupid? you’d think, frustrated with yourselves for making an obvious mistake just to fuck each other. We couldn’t stay off each other for one night?

Eddie seemed to have completely forgotten. He didn’t mention it again, didn’t ask about your period (it’s not like he kept track of your cycle anyway), wasn’t stressed at all. You didn’t mention your worry because you didn’t want to bring him into your anxiety spiral with you.

When your period was a week late, you came clean to Robin outside after school.

“What???” she exclaimed, way louder than you would have liked. You shushed her, putting your hand over her mouth. A few classmates in the parking lot turned to look at you, but quickly lost interest. You removed your hand once she got the idea. “You think you might be pregnant?” she whispered.

“I…yeah, I think so,” you said. You couldn’t meet her eyes.

“How could you- oh my god.” She looked like she was freaking out more than you even were. “How did this happen?”

“A condom that was too small?” you explained sheepishly. “It broke.”

She just looked at you, blinking. “Of all the risks to take-“

“I know,” you said.

“Does Eddie know?” she asked, lowering her voice even further.

“That the condom broke?”

“That you’re late,” she said, giving you a look like now isn’t the time for jokes.

You looked down. “No. I think he forgot all about it.”

“He forgot-“ Robin looked like she was about to explode with the lecture brewing in her brain. “We have to get a test. Find out for sure before you scare the shit out of him.”

A test. Your stomach hurt at the thought.

“Will you go with me?”

“Of course,” she said, holding your hand. “We can get Steve to take us to the pharmacy on the way home. Or to my place.”

“Steve?” you said, looking at her like she was crazy. “You want Steve Harrington to take us to get a pregnancy test?”

“He won’t tell anyone,” she said quickly. “He’s trustworthy. I promise.”

Eddie came walking out of the school then, laughing with Jeff and Grant. He saw you and flashed you a big smile, immediately heading in your direction. You and Robin both looked at him with awkward, halfhearted smiles in return.

“Hey, baby,” he said, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Ready to go?”

“Um, actually,” you said, “Robin asked if I wanted to go study at her house.”

“Oh,” Eddie said, surprised. Usually you wouldn’t change plans at the last minute. He looked at you with his brows furrowed, but didn’t question you further. “Okay, that’s cool. I’ll call you tonight?”

“Okay.” You forced yourself to give the most convincing smile you could. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips before he twirled his keys around his finger once and nodded at Robin. “See you later, ladies.”

You watched him get in his van and leave before you and Robin met Steve at his car.

“About time,” he said to Robin. “I’ve been waiting here forever.”

“We have an emergency,” Robin said immediately once everyone was in the car, you in the back seat.

Steve froze. “What kind of emergency?”

“A pregnancy emergency.”

Steve looked at Robin like she had grown a second head. “Robin, you’re a lesbian.”

“Not me, dingus!” Robin said, slapping him lightly on the arm. “Her!”

“Oh,” he said. He turned around and looked at you, then his eyes went wide. “With Eddie?”

You blushed, unsure what to say, but Robin smacked him on the arm again. “Don’t be rude!”

“Ow,” he mumbled. He started the car and pulled out of the Hawkins High parking lot. “So, you want me to…?”

“Take us to the pharmacy to get a test,” Robin said.

Steve nodded. It was obvious he felt extremely awkward. “Okay. Got it.”

He drove the three of you to the pharmacy, where he waited in the car while you and Robin went inside. You felt embarrassed, like every person in the store could look at you and tell what you were there for.

“I think they’re back here,” Robin mumbled, looking through the aisles. Sure enough, you found the pregnancy tests in the back with the condoms and tampons.

“Um…I guess just this one?” she said, picking up a box that said Clearblue. “Results in 30 minutes.”

30 minutes to find out if your life would be changed forever, you thought. You followed Robin to the checkout counter, where an older lady was working. You and Robin gave your best we are absolutely not dealing with the epidemic of teen pregnancy right now looks - trying to be as nonchalant as possible. The lady looked at you strangely, but said nothing at all.

Back in the car with Steve, you felt like you could breathe again.

“Got the goods?” he asked, starting the car.

“Yes,” Robin announced proudly. “It was relatively painless.”

“For you,” you mumbled.

Steve drove back to Robin’s with nothing but the sound of the radio playing. The atmosphere was heavy, or maybe you were just imagining that with how scared you were, how much you were dreading what was to come.

When Steve pulled up outside of Robin’s house, he looked at the two of you awkwardly. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you in the morning,” Robin said. She climbed out and you followed suit, walking up to the house with the pharmacy bag clutched in Robin’s fist. Steve called out “Good luck!” through the window.

Her parents weren’t home, which you were grateful for. You didn’t want to have to explain anything, like what you’d bought, or, later, why you were having a mental breakdown.

Robin took the test out of the bag, you looking at the box over her shoulder. She opened it and pulled out a piece of paper. The two of you read the instructions in silence.

“So, it looks like you just, uh, collect the sample, then put it in these little pots, and if it’s blue, you’re pregnant.”

You nodded. “Seems simple enough.”

“I think we got it.” Robin handed the box to you. “Good luck, girl.”

“Thanks.” You gave her a look before you took the stuff out of the box. You went in the bathroom, and took the test.

Once it was in progress, you and Robin sat on her bed. “30 minutes,” you reminded her.

Silence.

“Are you nervous?” Robin asked. “No, sorry, that was a stupid question. Are you scared out of your mind?”

“Yes,” you answered easily. “Fucking terrified.”

Robin took a deep breath, as if she was the one who’s life was on the line. “It’s gonna be okay. I promise. Either way, you’re a smart girl. You’re gonna figure this out.”

You weren’t so sure. If you were so smart, why were you sitting here in this situation right now? You’d think you would have known better than to use that fucking condom. “Eddie is going to lose it.”

“If it’s positive,” Robin said. “This could be nothing. Just a lesson learned.”

That’s what you hoped, but you weren’t sure you’d be so lucky. After an excruciating wait, the timer went off on Robin’s watch. She turned it off, then looked at you. “The moment of truth.”

You took a deep breath. You were pretty sure you were about to throw up all over Robin’s beige carpet. You walked into the bathroom, acting like you were in a haunted house and someone was about to jump from around the corner and scare the shit out of you.

You reached the sink. You looked at yourself in the mirror before you allowed yourself to look down. You looked scared. You just knew Eddie knew something was up, if you looked like this you weren’t hiding shit. You thought this might be the last time you saw yourself this way, as just a teenage girl with a normal life.

You looked down.

Blue.

Your heart stopped in your chest. Hot tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t know what to do - that was the first thought in your head. I don’t know what to do.

“Are you okay?” Robin asked from outside the room. “Do you want me to come in there?”

You stepped out, hands shaking where you were playing with your ring. Robin looked at you with worry written all over her features. “What’s the verdict?”

“You’re going to be an auntie,” you said. As soon as the words were out of your mouth, the walls caved in. You couldn’t breathe. You felt like the walls were pressing in all around you, trapping you, stealing your oxygen.

“Oh, jeez,” Robin said, rushing over to you. “Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe. Just breathe with me.” She started taking long, slow breaths, trying to guide you, but you weren’t hearing any of it. You couldn’t hear her over the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears, your heart racing, knees going weak as you collapsed onto the floor.

“Shit!” Robin dropped to her knees next to you, pushing your hair out of your face, lightly tapping your cheek. “Hey, look. Listen. I need you to breathe with me, okay? I need you to breathe. Jesus, you’re seriously having a panic attack.”

All you could think of was Eddie, of the future. Would Eddie leave you? He said you were in this together if the worst happened, but what if he hadn’t meant that? What if he only meant it when it wasn’t really happening? People never really know what they’re going to do in a situation until it happens to them. He was young. He wanted to be a rockstar.

You were sobbing, the kind of ugly sobs where you were gasping for air, desperate to draw something into your lungs but finding nothing. You didn’t think you’d ever cried so hard in your life. Not even when Jason Carver broke your heart in 7th grade.

Robin muttered your name. “You’re scaring me. Please calm down, babe, it’s…you’re going to be okay.”

You did your best to breathe along with her, and eventually you were drawing in shaking breaths, laying on her chest and soaking her shirt with your tears. She just stroked your hair, patiently letting you calm down. When the numbness kicked in, the tears stopped and you merely sniffled, wiping at your eyes.

“Do you want me to call Eddie to come take you home?” she asked softly.

You nodded. “Can you?” you croaked, your voice hoarse.

“Of course. Do you know his number by heart?”

You nodded. You dialed the number for her and she held the phone to her ear. It rang a couple times, and you wondered if he might not answer and what you’d do then. But finally you heard the timbre of his voice through the phone.

“Hey, Eddie,” Robin said. “Can- yes, she’s here. She’s- she’s fine. Yes she’s fine. Just feeling a little sick. Can you come bring her home? Yeah. Okay. Bye.” Robin hung up the phone and turned to you with a reassuring smile. “He’s on his way.”

Eddie, who drove like a maniac on a normal day, arrived at Robin’s minutes later. You went downstairs, and Robin stopped you right before you got to the front door.

“You’re going to be okay,” she said, pulling you into a hug.

“Should I…am I supposed to tell him now?” you asked, your voice weak.

“Maybe you should,” she said. “Just get it over with. Rip the bandaid off.”

You nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

“You got this,” she said. “I promise.”

You left the house, walking down to the street where Eddie’s van was idling. You could hear his music playing from outside. You opened the passenger door and climbed in.

“Jesus,” Eddie said when he saw you, eyes still swollen and red, looking like hell. He quickly turned the music down. “Shit, baby, what happened?”

You let out another big breath. How were you supposed to do this? Just say it? Rock his world like that with just two words? Two little words to change his life forever. And he didn’t even know it. He had no idea what was coming to him.

“You can start driving,” you told him instead of explaining anything at all.

He looked at you with worry. His eyebrows were furrowed, eyes soft. “Baby. What’s going on?”

You fought the tears back. You were not going to cry again. One slipped out and you wiped it away.

“Are you crying?” he asked. “Babe, you’re scaring me. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’ll talk while you drive,” you said.

He just looked at you. “Okay. Mine or yours?”

“I have to go home. My mom is cooking lasagna.” You dreaded seeing your parents, especially tonight. You weren’t telling them now, that was for sure. They were going to lose their minds.

“Okay.” He pulled away from the curb, beginning the short drive to your house. “Now talk.”

You twisted your ring around your finger - your main nervous habit. Eddie clocked it immediately.

“Is it bad?”

Was it? Yes. And no. It was both, you supposed. You didn’t really know how to answer that question right now.

“I took a test.”

Eddie looked over at you, confused. “A test? What kind of test? Not your SAT? That wasn’t supposed to be until next month.”

Something about the fact that he remembered when your SAT test was taking place warmed your heart. Sure you had talked about it, how nervous you were and how much work you were putting into studying for it, but you never thought he’d remember the actual date. Those worries felt miles away now, trivial.

“No.”

“Then what kind of test?” he asked. “Did you get a bad grade? Because baby, it’s really not the end of the world, you’re so smart-“

“Do you remember the broken condom?”

Silence. Complete, heavy silence, like a blanket over you both.

“Yes,” he finally said.

Deep breath. “Eddie-“

“Are you pregnant?” You could see his knuckles turning white around the steering wheel. His arms were shaking slightly.

“Me and Robin got a test. We took it and…it was positive.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie muttered. “You’re sure?”

“I think so.”

Eddie had reached your house. He killed the engine in the driveway behind your parents’ cars. The reminder of your parents sent the nausea rolling through your stomach again. He didn’t look at you. He chewed on his thumb nail as he looked out the window.

Minutes went by without a word spoken. It scared you. What was he thinking? Was he going to leave you?

“Can you say something?” you asked when you couldn’t take it anymore. “Please.”

He looked at you. His eyes were swimming with a million thoughts. You wanted to reach inside his mind and see what was happening.

“So…you’re pregnant,” he said, a mixture between a statement and a question.

“Yes. At least, that’s what the test said.”

“Is there a possibility that you’re not?” he asked, the hope in his voice making your chest ache.

“The test said it was 99% accurate.”

His eyes closed. He blew out a big breath, then rubbed his hands over his face. He looked like he was trying to erase the nightmare. You didn’t really blame him, but there was no running.

He didn’t say anything for a while. He was looking down, like he was completely lost in his thoughts. “So you’re pregnant,” he said again.

Your turn to pause. “Yes. I guess so.”

“I thought…” He cleared his throat. “I thought we were in the clear. You didn’t say anything for weeks-“

“My period was late, but I didn’t want to scare you,” you mumbled.

“You should have told me,” he said. He still wasn’t looking at you, and that was starting to scare you.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I was just…I was scared. I didn’t want you to be scared, too.”

It was silent. The seconds ticked on like hours as you waited for him to respond, to say anything. Every second that passed increased your anxiety, increased the fear that you’d end up doing this alone. Eddie was going to leave you.

Eddie was spiraling. How could this happen? Well, he knew the answer to that. But what shitty luck, right? What did this mean? It meant everything. It meant his earth was turning on its axis, time was changing, he would be changing. What does our future look like? Eddie didn’t have any fucking money. He had a little from his dealing, but - fuck, he couldn’t be a drug dealer and a dad. But he’d have to do something. He’d have to start bringing in money immediately. Paying for your appointments, for the baby supplies. Then paying to survive, bills and food and a whole human baby who would need diapers and wipes and all kinds of stuff. What will this do to our relationship? What if you broke up? What if he became a single dad, seeing his kid every other weekend, paying child support, forever having to watch you with another man? And most of all - what if he wasn’t cut out to be a dad? He didn’t exactly have the best example growing up.

“Eddie, when it happened, we said we’d do it together, right?” you reminded him. “Don’t do this. Don’t get upset and push me away. Not now.”

Eddie didn’t say anything. He still wouldn’t look at you. “I think I just…need to process this.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, worried. Your stomach felt like it was in knots, your chest tight again. You didn’t know what you’d do if Eddie left you. Your parents would probably be kicking you out, and you’d be homeless. Homeless and a single mom.

“I just need to think about things, okay?” he said. “I…need to be alone. To think.”

You looked at him. You willed him to turn and look at you, to tell you everything was going to be okay, that he still loved you and was going to be here for you. But he didn’t do or say any of those things. Your heart sunk to your toes.

“Okay, Eddie,” you finally said. You waited to see if he’d say anything else, but he didn’t. No goodbye, no I love you as you got out of the van and walked to your front door. You heard him driving away as you opened the door and walked inside.

The smell of the lasagna was overpowering as you walked in, and with your sensitive pregnancy sense of smell, you almost threw up on your mom’s fancy carpet.

“It’s about time you got home,” your mom said as you walked into the kitchen. She was setting the table, your dad already seated. “We were just about to eat without you.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, dropping your bag by the wall and taking your usual seat.

“Don’t do that,” your dad snapped.

“Do what?” You were genuinely confused, but you really weren’t in the mood to deal with your parents any more than you had to tonight.

“Mumble,” he said. “It’s rude.”

“Sorry,” you said again, clearer this time.

“You weren’t with that loser boyfriend of yours, were you?” your dad asked with a snort. Your mom smiled lightly to herself - you knew she agreed.

“Eddie is not a loser,” you said, knowing it was a mistake.

“Don’t get an attitude with me,” he said. “The boy is a mess. He’s dumb as rocks, repeating his senior year for the third time. He’s always in trouble with the police. I think the boy does drugs. He’s dragging you down, and you refuse to see that.”

You were seething, thinking about stabbing your fork right in his stupid smug face. “That’s not true.”

“Honey, it is,” your mom said. “You could do so much better. I really think you should-“

“Mom, I’m not breaking up with Eddie,” you said, looking down as you poked at your food. Although, you thought to yourself, he might just do it for me anyway.

“You don’t talk to your mother like that,” your dad said, beginning to raise his voice. You could feel a headache coming on. Actually - you could feel more than that. Nausea rose in your stomach quickly and you jumped up from the table, nearly knocking your chair over in the process, and ran to the downstairs bathroom. You fell to your knees and emptied your stomach, trying to hold your hair back and not make a mess.

When you were finally done, you cleaned up and walked back to the kitchen. “I don’t feel good,” you said. “I’m going to go lay down. Thank you for dinner.”

You turned and left, hearing your dad yell from behind you.

“You better not be pregnant!”

—

After he dropped you off, Eddie drove around for a while. He wasn’t going anywhere specific, didn’t have anywhere he wanted to be. He just needed to think.

He thought about every scenario, every possibility. The good, which made his chest feel warm, made him want to turn the car around and apologize and tell you he can’t wait to do this with you - and the bad, which stopped him. He ended up back at his trailer, Wayne already gone for the night.

He didn’t know what to do. This was life shattering. He didn’t want to ruin your life any more than he wanted to ruin his own. He knew it was a long shot, but he wanted to be successful with his music one day. He was going to be letting the whole band down.

Eddie picked up the phone. He just held it for a while, debating. Wondering if he really wanted to do this. He dialed the number he had memorized.

The recording asked him for the inmate number - he had that memorized, too. He punched it in, waiting. After a number of rings, the phone was picked up.

“Hello?” the gruff voice came from the other end of the line.

“Dad,” Eddie said, his voice broken.

“Well, I’ll be,” Al Munson said, a laugh in his voice. “If it isn’t my boy. What brings you to call your dear old dad tonight?”

Eddie sighed. “I just…something’s happened. I didn’t know who to go to.”

“Oh yeah?” Al sounded amused, like this was entertaining to him. “And what’s that?”

Eddie let out another deep breath. “I got my girlfriend pregnant.”

It was silent for a minute. Then, Al laughed. “Well damn, boy.”

Eddie felt sick to his stomach. This wasn’t going how he hoped. He didn’t know what he had been hoping for, but it wasn’t this. He regretted picking up the phone. “Yeah.”

“Well, isn’t that just fuckin’ great!” Al said. “I’m gonna be a granddaddy. Well, Ed, while you were stickin’ your dick in anything that moves, I’m over here working hard, day and night, for nothin’. You better be grateful for what you have, boy, and get that girl an abortion. This is going to ruin both of y’all’s lives. Put an end to it now while you can.”

That little rant was the last thing Eddie had expected to hear from his father. He felt like his head was spinning, his chest tightening. “Dad, I- I’m not gonna ask her to get an abortion.”

“Why the hell not?” Al laughed. “Believe me, son, you’re gonna regret this. You’re gonna regret throwing your life away. You got that little band, don’t you? Don’t you want to try to make it big?”

It sounded mocking when he said it, but it was true for Eddie. He did have those dreams, as childish and far fetched as they may be. And he knew you wanted to go to a good college, wanted to make something of yourself.

“She’s my priority,” Eddie said. “If she wants this baby, I’ll have this baby with her.”

“Son, you’re a fool,” Al said.

Eddie clenched his fist. He had the sudden urge to punch a wall. “I love her.”

Al laughed, hard. “Like I said. A fool.”

Eddie hung up the phone, slamming it down onto the receiver. He was seething, taking deep breaths, his hands shaking where they were still clenched tightly. The phone call with his dad had only served to make him even more upset, now angry, at his dad, at himself, at the situation.

He didn’t know why he had called his dad in the first place. His dad had never been dad of the year. He hadn’t even seen him in person for 7 years, not since he went to prison. And before then, before Wayne, he was neglectful. Eddie cringed as he remembered Wayne shaving his head the day he moved in, his curls in mats.

His dad had never been a father. The only things he ever taught him were how to hotwire a car, how to be a good liar, how to steal without getting caught, how to deal without getting caught. His dad knew all about dealing - more than weed.

He remembered his mother. The little pieces he still had of her, at least. It made his chest feel warm, thinking of how she had loved him, how caring and kind she had been. He had no idea how she ever ended up with Al Munson. She was an angel.

Eddie knew you would be just as good of a mother as his own mom had been. He knew you’d be the best mother ever. He didn’t worry for a second about how his kid would turn out when it came to you.

But what about him? He already passed on his genes, isn’t that enough damage? Maybe he should take himself out of the equation. Run. Get away from this kid before he has the chance to fuck them up. Because surely that’s what will happen - he’ll damage them beyond repair, make them into as big of a fuckup as he is.

But no. He can’t just abandon you like that. As much as he knows this kid would be better off without him, he knew you wouldn’t. He couldn’t leave you to raise a child alone. Especially not with your shitty parents - god, how would they react to this? Not well, that was for damn sure. You wouldn’t have their support and he knew it.

There was really only one thing for him to do.

—

You cried your eyes out that night. Your pillow was soaked with tears, your eyes still red and puffy from earlier, now worse. You wondered if you could get by with missing school - your parents had heard you getting sick. But what if they made you go to the doctor? Fuck.

You woke up the next morning with your face practically stuck to your pillow. You wiped the dried tears away. You went into your bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror - you looked like hell. Your lower lip trembled, and you just knew it was going to start up again, but you were able to hold it back.

You splashed cold water on your face, helping to soothe your flushed skin. Then you turned the shower on, undressing and stepping into the hot water. It relaxed you immediately, the water beating down on your shoulders and easing the ache in your bones. You didn’t know sadness could make you so physically miserable. Or maybe it was the pregnancy. Maybe both.

When you were done with your shower, you dried yourself off, then started on your hair and makeup. You dressed like you felt, in a pair of jeans and a hoodie. Your parents had already left for work. You bounded downstairs, nausea still plaguing you.

You grabbed a granola bar from the pantry and forced yourself to eat it. You weren’t even sure how you were getting to school - was Eddie coming? Should you call Robin and Steve?

You were just considering picking up the phone when you heard a car horn honking from out front. You peered through the kitchen window, seeing Eddie’s van.

Your stomach clenched in knots. Was he here to break up with you? To tell you he wasn’t going to do this?

You grabbed your bag and walked out of the house, locking the front door behind you. You stuffed your hands in your hoodie pockets as you walked to the van. He reached across the seats and opened the door for you when you reached it.

You looked at him cautiously as you climbed in. You were trying to read his face, to prepare yourself for what was to come. He was unreadable, though. That was rare for Eddie - usually you could read him like a book.

He started the car and pulled out of your driveway. It was a few miserable, tense minutes before he finally said something.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I scared you last night. I just needed to think.” He reached over and took your hand in his right one, driving only with his left. “I promise I’m not going anywhere. You’re not going to do this alone.”

Tears brewed in your eyes, but this time they weren’t necessarily sad ones. “I was scared.”

“I know, baby,” he said. “I’m so sorry.” A pause. “I’m scared, too.”

“Where did you go?” you asked.

“I just drove around,” he answered honestly. “Went home and, uh…called my old man.”

Your eyes went wide. “How did that go?”

Eddie scoffed. “As well as you’d imagine.”

You softened. “Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

He waved you off, like the conversation wasn’t still eating him up inside. “It just…made me realize that I never want to be like my dad. I never want to make my kid feel the way he makes me feel.”

“You would never, Eddie,” you said softly. “You’re nothing like your dad.”

He shook his head. “I’m not so sure. I feel like a chip off the ol’ block.”

“You’re nothing like your dad,” you said again, firmer this time. There wasn’t a single thing you saw in common between Eddie and Al Munson. You’d never had the displeasure of meeting him, but you had heard plenty.

Eddie gave you a sad smile before turning back to the road. “Well, it means a lot that you think so.”

“I know so.”

It was quiet for a minute. A less tense quiet than it had been minutes ago. “I just…I’m sorry for running out on you like that,” Eddie said. “We’re partners, right? Always will be. In everything. Especially this.”

His words made you feel better. You had longed for him to come back and do this, to tell you he didn’t mean to act that way and that he loved you and this baby. That wasn’t exactly how it happened, but it was close enough.

“I love you,” Eddie continued. “I would never abandon you, I fucking swear that.”

You squeezed his hand. “I love you too, Eds.”

Another minute of quiet. The gears were turning in Eddie’s head, his mind still spinning even as he drove the familiar path to school on autopilot. “But we need to talk about it.”

“About what?”

“The baby,” he said, the first time either of you were saying the words. “We need to talk about what we’re gonna do. And how we’re gonna do it.”

“Can we go to your place after school?” you asked, playing with the strings on your hoodie.

“Sure, baby.” He squeezed your hand, a silent promise that everything was going to be okay.

When Robin saw you in the parking lot, she sped over to Eddie’s van, throwing her arms around you in a hug as you stepped out. “How are you feeling? Are you okay? You look like hell.”

“Thanks,” you said sarcastically. “I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

“No.” You mustered up a smile. “But you don’t have to worry about me. Seriously.”

“Um, you had a full on panic attack on my bedroom floor yesterday after getting life shattering news. Of course I’m worried about you.”

You were grateful to have a friend that was so supportive and caring, but you couldn’t handle the attention right now. You already felt like you were drowning in worries. “I promise I’m okay, Robs.”

She looked at you skeptically, but accepted it. “Okay. If you say so. But tell me if you’re not, okay? I’m here with you. Always.”

You felt bad for pushing her away. Robin cared about you more than most people in your life. The least you could do was let her.

The school day passed uneventfully. Part of you had been worried that the news was written on your forehead and everyone would know. You just knew someone would be able to tell, then the whole school would know and you’d be even more of a pariah than you were for being The Freak’s girlfriend.

You were still relieved to climb into Eddie’s van at the end of the day. You always felt safe with him - being alone with Eddie was like coming home. He drove the two of you back to the trailer. Wayne was still home when you arrived.

“Hey, darlin’,” he greeted you when the two of you walked inside. He was dressed for work at the plant, drinking a cup of coffee with his lunchbox sitting on the counter next to him.

“Hey, Wayne,” you said with a genuine smile.

“Oh, hey, Eddie. How was your day? It was fine, thanks. How was yours?” Eddie said, pretending to be upset at being ignored.

“How was that math test?” Wayne asked him with a raised eyebrow.

Eddie paled. “We’re going to my room. See ya, Wayne!” He quickly ushered you into his bedroom while you laughed.

“How was the math test?” you spun and asked him once you were alone in his room.

“God, I don’t even want to think about it,” Eddie muttered. “I already know I failed.”

Your chest ached. “I told you I’d study with you.”

“Yeah, well…” Eddie said, “I had a lot on my mind today anyway.”

You knew the feeling. You’d barely been able to pay attention in class today. You knew this discussion was coming, and you didn’t know how it was going to go.

Eddie flopped back on his bed, and you took a seat next to him. He rubbed your back gently.

“You wanted to talk?” you reminded him, the nerves creeping up on you. What if this wasn’t a good talk?

“I just…” Eddie sighed. “How are we going to do this?”

You didn’t know. You hadn’t really had the chance to think that far ahead. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah…exactly.” Eddie ran a hand through his hair, tangled from how much he’d been messing with it today. “Are you sure you don’t want to…?”

“To what?” you asked. “Get an abortion?”

“Yeah.”

You thought. “I just don’t think I can, Eddie.”

Eddie continued rubbing your back. “I understand, baby. It’s okay. It was just an option.”

Not that there was anything wrong with getting an abortion - it just didn’t feel right for you. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not upset.” If Eddie was being honest with himself, he wished you would get the abortion. He felt that was the best choice for you both, the easiest choice. The idea of the two of you keeping this baby scared him shitless. But he’d never make you do something you didn’t want to do with your own body.

“So…” Eddie began awkwardly. “How will we make money? To support us and the baby?”

“I don’t know,” you said quietly.

“Okay. Where will we live?”

“I don’t know.”

“Baby.” Eddie stopped rubbing your back, looking at you seriously. “We really have to figure this shit out.”

“I don’t know!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms up. “I really don’t. I don’t know what the fuck we’re going to do. I really wanted to graduate. I wanted to go to college.”

It was quiet. “Baby, I don’t think you’re gonna be able to go to college.”

Your chest ached. You could feel your future slipping from your grasp, the future you’d been building your entire life. The one you’d put so much effort into bringing to fruition in your high school years. It was falling away before your eyes.

“I…I’m gonna drop out,” Eddie said.

“What??” your head snapped in his direction. “Eddie, no.”

“Baby, I…” he scoffed, “I had my chances. If one of us has to drop out to start working so we can save up, it has to be me.”

Tears welled in your eyes. You felt like you’d done so much crying lately. “You’ve been working so hard this year. You’re so close.”

“It has to happen, princess,” he said gently, pushing your hair out of your face. “I have to take care of my family now.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, the couple of tears escaping, sliding down your cheeks. You felt horrible. You felt like you were ruining Eddie’s life. “Where are you gonna work?”

“I don’t know. Whatever I can get. Melvald’s, maybe. Restaurant. Anything.”

“Is stuff like that going to take care of all three of us, though?” you asked, the worry eating at you.

“It’s better than nothing, baby. I can keep looking. I just need to start saving money now.”

“Can I still finish school?”

“If you feel up to it,” Eddie said. “But, yeah. I don’t want to make you drop out, too. Maybe you could even go to college in a few years, when the baby is older.”

You smiled at that. “You think?”

“Maybe,” he smiled back. He laid on his back, hands crossed behind his head on his pillow. He looked lost in thought. “I think you should stay home with the baby until they’re older.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. People scare me. I want to know they’re safe.”

You felt the same. There was nowhere safer for your baby than with you, right? Not that you knew all that much about taking care of babies right now. It’s not like you had any siblings or even little cousins. “I agree.”

“Good.”

You laid down on the bed next to Eddie, curling up into his side. He wrapped his arm around you, holding you close. “How are we gonna tell Wayne and your parents?” he asked.

You let out a long breath. “That’s going to go over horribly with my parents.”

“I know.” He thought for a minute. “I…have no idea how Wayne’s going to react. He’s probably going to be disappointed in me. Which feels pretty bad.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, because he was probably right. And you couldn’t even blame Wayne. You guys had fucked up. And now your lives were forever changed.

“The guys are going to freak,” he said with a sigh.

You hadn’t even thought of the band, or the Hellfire club. How would they react? They were counting on Eddie to help make the band’s dream a reality. Eddie was the guitarist, the lead singer. How was he supposed to do that with a baby?

“I’m sorry your life is ruined,” you muttered, the guilt weighing on your chest.

“It’s not, baby,” he said. “And neither is yours.”

—

You had known about the baby for a couple of days. You were dressing for school, wearing a pair of jeans and a band shirt with a sweater. Eddie was driving you to school like he did every day.

You practically ran down the steps to meet him outside when you heard him pull up, but your mom stopped you right before you got out the front door.

“You need to stop hanging out with that boy,” she said, looking you in the eyes in a way that made you uncomfortable.

“Mom, no,” you said. “I’m not breaking up with Eddie.”

“You need to think about your future,” she said. “That boy is going to ruin your future. Whether you end up pregnant, or on drugs, or living on the streets. You’re going to be 22 years old with three kids and that boy in prison just like his father.”

You weren’t sure if you were about to cry or scream in her face. “You know nothing about Eddie.”

“I know enough.”

You pushed past her, walking to Eddie’s van with your fists clenched. You climbed in, slamming the door.

“Woah, baby mama, what’s wrong?” he asked, beginning to drive away.

“Just my mom,” you muttered.

“Being herself, I assume,” Eddie said with clear distaste.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t listen to her,” he said. “You know she’s full of shit.”

But her words lingered in your head anyway, plaguing you the way only she could. What if Eddie did get in trouble for dealing and go to jail? It wasn’t impossible. And you were pregnant. God, you were going to have to tell her so, too.

You were distracted all through the school day, but tried your best to focus in class. You were standing up from your desk in english when Tina stopped you, her nose scrunched up like something was disgusting.

“Think you got your period,” she said, snarky as always.

You froze. “W-what?” you asked, looking at her.

“Your period?” she said. “Seems kinda heavy. Might want to go to the nurse’s office.”

She walked off, but you paid no mind to her. You looked down at your seat - and saw it covered in blood. You gasped, covering your mouth in horror - the tears started and you felt your heart shatter in your chest. No. No no no no no no.

You tied your hoodie around your waist and ran out of the room straight to Eddie’s locker, where you nearly crashed into him.

“Woah, babe, what’s going on?” he asked, steadying you by the shoulders. His eyes were swimming with concern.

“We have to go to the ER,” you cried. “Now.”

“Jesus- what’s going on?” Eddie asked.

You leaned in close. “Eddie, I- I think I’m having a miscarriage.”

His eyes went wide. “No. You’re not.”

“We have to go,” you said, taking his hand and walking off. You were acutely aware of the blood all over the back of your jeans, how you were probably still bleeding. What if you were losing the baby right now?

You felt on the verge of hyperventilating. Eddie ran to the van, opening the door for you and laying a towel down in the seat. “Shit, baby,” he cursed as he helped you climb in and saw the blood. His voice cracked, like he was about to start crying, too.

He drove you to the ER as fast as he could without getting pulled over. He had weed in his pocket, and in the back - he didn’t need that. He pulled up to the ER in record time, finding a spot and nearly carrying you into the hospital.

“I think my girlfriend might be having a miscarriage,” he blurted out to the receptionist, who looked up at him like he was stupid.

“What’s your name?” she asked you.

You gave her your name and info.

“How far along are you?”

“I…don’t know,” you admitted. “We just found out.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re pregnant and this isn’t just your period?”

Eddie wished that were true. What a relief that would be, he thought. But if there really was a baby in there - he didn’t want to take any chances. He wasn’t going to lose it.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you said, getting irritated with this lady.

They brought you back to get your vitals, finding your blood pressure high. “Probably from the stress,” the nurse said, but they brought you straight back anyway, having you change into a gown.

A tech came in shortly after. “I need to take you for an ultrasound,” she said, much more kindly than the woman at the front desk.

“Can he come with me?” you asked, holding onto Eddie’s hand tightly.

“I’m afraid not,” she said, looking like she genuinely felt bad. “But we’ll only be gone for a few minutes.”

You followed her down the hall and to a room with an ultrasound machine. “Lay on the table with your legs up there, and scoot all the way down.”

You froze. “I thought ultrasounds were on your stomach?”

“Not this early,” she said apologetically. “It’s just a little uncomfortable, but it won’t hurt.”

You laid on the table, feeling incredibly exposed. She began the ultrasound, the screen turned away from you. She kept pressing buttons and writing things down.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, your stomach aching from anxiety. “Can I see?”

“I can’t show you or tell you anything,” she said, “we have to wait for the doctor. I’m sorry.”

You laid there, staring at the ceiling. You pretended you were anywhere else, doing anything else. You imagined you were at Eddie’s, laying on his bed while he played you a new song on his guitar. “I wrote this one for you, baby,” he’d always say.

She finished up and you were glad to put your legs back together. You followed her back to the room, where Eddie was waiting, bouncing his leg nervously. When you walked in he stood up, rushing over to you. He grabbed your arms. “Is the baby okay?”

“I don’t know yet,” you said. “She couldn’t tell me anything. We have to wait for the doctor.”

“That’s fuckin’ stupid,” Eddie said. “Why couldn’t she just say ‘yes, everything’s okay? You can stop worrying about the fate of your child’?”

Your child. Eddie caring about the fate of your baby so much made you feel a little better. You just hoped it wasn’t about to be ripped away from you like this.

You got back in the bed and the two of you waited nervously. It was maybe 30 miserable minutes later that the doctor walked in, introducing himself.

“How’s the baby?” Eddie asked as soon as the doctor stopped talking.

He pulled out some images, holding them out to show you. Eddie leaned over your shoulder to look at them. You couldn’t exactly make any sense of them - it was just a black and white image of some blobs.

“This right here,” the doctor said, pointing to one of the blobs. “Is called a subchorionic hematoma. It’s a collection of blood in your uterus. Most resolve themselves and are nothing to worry about, although the bleeding can be scary.”

Can be? You were just now breathing like normal again.

“So everything’s okay?” Eddie asked, wanting to get to the point as soon as possible.

“Yes, everything’s okay,” the doctor said, and you and Eddie collectively let out a breath. “The babies are perfectly fine.”

You felt relieved. Everything was okay. You turned to Eddie, but found him white as a ghost, staring wide eyed at the doctor.

“Did you say babies?”

You froze. Did he? You slowly turned to the doctor.

“Yes. You’re about 7 weeks along with twins.”

The ground fell out from under your feet. Your head spun, your blood felt like ice -

Eddie hit the ground.

—

Eddie woke a minute later, having been propped up in a chair by your bed. The nurses checked him over, but they knew he was fine. The doctor let you know you could leave, and you and Eddie were left alone.

“Fuckin’ - twins,” he breathed. “Two babies. Jesus.”

You couldn’t believe it either. If you had been scared before, now you were twice as scared. How were you going to afford two babies? How were you going to take care of two babies alone?

Eddie walked back out to the van with his hand protectively on your lower back, staying close. He helped you get in and closed the door for you.

“I don’t want to go home,” you admitted. “I just want to go to your place.”

Eddie smiled softly at you. “My house is your home, sweetheart. But yeah, of course.”

You leaned your head against the seat and watched out the window the whole drive to Eddie’s. You had been in the ER for so long, the sun was just starting to set. You felt relief that the baby - the babies - were okay. You were relieved you were going home with Eddie. Things were going to be okay.

Eddie pulled up in front of the trailer. Wayne was home - he was off tonight. You knew he wouldn’t question you. “Wait,” Eddie said, and he jumped out of the van and ran around to your side. He opened the door and basically lifted you down.

“I’m not made of porcelain,” you laughed as he sat you on the ground gently.

“To me, you are,” he said.

He led you to the front door, letting you go in first. Wayne was in his chair with a beer, watching TV. He looked up at the two of you when you came in.

“Hey, Wayne,” you greeted him.

“Hey, darlin’. Ed.” Wayne took a sip of his beer, looking at you both with an unreadable expression. Wayne was very closed off, it was impossible to tell what that man was thinking. “Can you two sit down for a minute? I’d like to talk to ya.”

That was strange. You looked at Eddie, who only shrugged back at you. The bleeding had stopped and you’d had the chance to clean up, so you sat down on the couch, Eddie next to you in between you and Wayne.

Wayne turned the TV off. Silence descended over the room, heavy and suffocating.

“Ed,” Wayne said, “your daddy gave me a call.”

Eddie froze. Oh fuck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Wayne took a sip from his beer. “He told me somethin’ you, uh…told him?”

You looked at Eddie, confused as to where this was going. Eddie was sweating, all of a sudden it was way too hot for his jacket. He took it off, tossing it onto the floor.

“You wanna tell me somethin’, Ed?”

Eddie signed. He rubbed his hands over his face, like he was trying to wake up from a bad dream. But he didn’t say anything, and the way he was refusing to answer Wayne was scaring you.

Getting nowhere with Eddie, Wayne turned to you. “Honey, are you pregnant?”

Oh. Eddie had told his dad about the baby - babies, you corrected yourself again. Not that he had known that then. You looked at Eddie, who still looked panicked, but you couldn’t lie to Wayne. “Yes.”

Wayne looked between the two of you sadly. “Oh, kids,” he said, like he could see your fate laid out before you, and it wasn’t a good one.

“It’s twins,” Eddie contributed, looking at his uncle sheepishly. “Just found that out tonight.”

“Twins?” Wayne said, genuinely surprised. “Goddamn, son.” You almost laughed.

“Are you mad?” Eddie asked, scared not of what Wayne would do, but what he would think of him.

“Mad?” Wayne asked. “No. I’m just…worried. What are you gonna do?”

You and Eddie exchanged a look. “I’m going to drop out and get a job to save up some money,” Eddie said.

Wayne’s face fell. “Oh, Ed.”

“I know,” Eddie said. “But I have to. Right? I have to.”

Wayne didn’t say anything, because Eddie was right. There was no way around it that he could think of. He couldn’t afford to support Eddie, you, and a baby - two babies, which everyone kept forgetting and re-remembering. As much as he wanted to help, he didn’t make enough at the plant.

“What you have to do is stop that mess with the drugs,” Wayne said, pointing at Eddie. “Don’t think I don’t know.”

Eddie flushed. “Yeah, I know.”

“You cannot be gettin’ into trouble doin’ that stuff. Not now. I turned a blind eye to it for too long.”

Eddie nodded.

“Okay.” Wayne slapped his knees. “Well. You think you two have got this?”

You and Eddie looked at each other. Did you have it? You’d have to. “I think we’ll be okay,” Eddie said.

“Do your parents know?” Wayne asked you.

“No,” you answered. “We’ve only known for about a week. I’m not exactly excited to tell them.”

“I don’t blame you, sweetheart,” Wayne said. He knew how your parents were. They had met before, they looked down on him and Eddie for their social status, for their income, for living in a trailer park, amongst other things. “But you’ll have to tell them eventually.”

“I know.”

“We’ve got your back,” Eddie said. “If they wanna be assholes about it…”

“Which they will.”

“Yeah.” Eddie pulled you close. “It’s going to be okay.”

Conversation over, you followed Eddie back to his bedroom. He quickly cleaned up his rolling tray, papers, and baggie of weed that were laying on his bed. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I just…smoked a little last night. I’m done now, though.”

You didn’t say anything, watching as he put his stuff away. He sat on the bed and held his arms out for you. You went to him, letting him wrap his arms around you. He laid his head on your stomach.

“I’m so happy you’re okay. All three of you,” he said. “I was so scared.”

“Me too,” you agreed. Eddie laid his forehead on your belly, his thumbs rubbing circles over it. He lifted your shirt up and pressed a kiss to the smooth skin, his lips lingering there. Your heart thudded in your chest at the display of love and affection.

“I love you both,” he said to your belly. “I’m your daddy, and I’m going to take such good care of you. I won’t let anything bad happen to you or your mama.”

Your stomach flipped, and you were pretty sure you’d never felt so in love with Eddie than you did in that moment.

He pulled you down to lay next to him on the bed, cuddled together, legs tangled. His hand rested on your belly, rubbing soft, slow circles until you drifted off to sleep in his arms.

—

The hospital set you up with your first OBGYN appointment. It was a week after the ER visit, and you’d been a nervous wreck. You hadn’t been bleeding any more, but what if you still lost the babies? You were looking forward to going just to hear that everything was okay.

You and Eddie left school early, heading to the doctor just after 5th period. Eddie stood awkwardly with his hands in his pockets as you checked in at reception. You found two seats together and sat as you filled out the clipboard of questions.

It asked all kinds of things. The standard doctor’s office questions about you, some awkward questions about your sexual history, and even questions about Eddie - ‘the father’.

“‘How many sexual partners have you had?’” you asked him, reading off the question.

Eddie blushed. “What?”

“It’s asking!”

“About me?”

“Yeah!”

He blushed deeper. “You know the answer to that question.”

You did. You just liked teasing him. “Remind me?”

Eddie gave you a look. “You know you were my first.”

“Oh yeah,” you smiled. Eddie nudged your shoulder playfully.

“Asshole.”

You turned in the clipboard when you were done, going back to your seat and waiting to be called. It wasn’t long before a nurse came for you, and you stood.

“Do you, uh, want me to go?” Eddie asked. He was jittery, bouncing his leg like he often did when he was nervous.

“Can you?” You didn’t know why you were nervous to ask him, you knew he would in a heartbeat.

“Yeah, of course.” He stood and followed you, trailing behind as the nurse led you to the back. She recorded your height and weight, blood pressure and temperature. You were taken to a small room with an exam table in the middle and two visitor chairs by the wall. Photos of babies decorated the walls. Eddie looked all around, seeming uncomfortable.

The nurse asked you even more questions. Some typical, some that made you blush. She asked Eddie a bunch of questions about his and his family’s health history. She left, and you and Eddie were alone.

“I didn’t realize they’d need so much information from me,” he said. “I thought this was all you.”

“You are the dad, right?” you teased, laying back on the exam table.

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I better be.”

“They’re half you. Of course you matter.”

Eddie hadn’t thought of it that way. The babies were half him. And half you. There was something beautiful about how you’d come together to make something so precious as these two little babies. He placed a hand on your stomach - you had developed the smallest little baby bump - and rubbed it, smiling up at your face. He gave you a little wink.

The tech came in with the ultrasound machine. “How are you guys today?” she asked, setting up the machine. She put the gel on your stomach.

“Nervous,” you admitted. Eddie squeezed your hand.

“Don’t be,” she said. “This is supposed to be the fun part.”

She flipped on the machine and placed the wand on your belly. The image appeared on your screen, and you saw your two little blobs wiggling around in there.

“Congratulations on the twins!” she said. “There’s baby A,” she measured the smaller blob, “and there’s baby B.” The bigger blob was next to the smaller one, like they were cuddled together. Almost like it was protecting the other one.

Tears welled in your eyes at the sight of them - your first real glimpse of your babies. You glanced at Eddie, who was covering his mouth with his hand, staring at the screen with so much love in his eyes.

“And we can’t know if they’re boys or girls yet?” Eddie asked.

“Not yet,” she said. “You’ll find out at the 20 week scan.”

“How many weeks is she now?” he asked.

The tech took some more measurements. “She’s measuring about 8 weeks right now.”

Eddie blew out a rush of air. 8 weeks seemed so early and so long at the same time. “And how many weeks are there in a pregnancy?” he asked, knowing he sounded like an idiot.

“There are 40,” she explained. “But twins often come early, around 35 weeks.”

Eddie paled at that. How was the pregnancy almost a quarter over already?? Nothing was ready. Nothing at all. He still didn’t even have a job, and these babies were coming so soon?

You both watched the screen for the remainder of the ultrasound. She printed you a strip of photos to keep, which you held close to your chest - you would cherish these. Eddie took one to keep in his wallet.

When she left, you cleaned the gel off your stomach. Eddie helped you wipe it up with paper towels.

“That was cool, huh?” you asked, smiling at Eddie as you pulled your shirt back down.

“Very,” he agreed, smiling back at you. “I can’t believe there’s really two in there.” He poked your belly.

“Me either.” You laid back. “Does that mean I’m gonna get like…extra huge?”

“Probably,” Eddie teased. “Beautiful no matter what, though.”

The doctor came in next, introducing herself and congratulating you both. She told you it seemed that the subchorionic hematoma had taken care of itself, so she felt it was nothing to worry about. She went over the do’s and don’ts of pregnancy, told you to start taking a prenatal vitamin, and instructed you to come back in a month.

With your ultrasound photos and appointment card in your hand, you and Eddie left the office. He helped you up into the passenger seat before getting in on his own side. “What do you want to do now, baby?” he asked you.

“I think we should go to the pharmacy for those vitamins,” you said. Your mind was entirely on the babies, wanting them to be as healthy as possible, especially after the miscarriage scare.

“You got it.” He started the van and drove in that direction, his music playing from the speakers.

You went in together when you reached the pharmacy. Eddie walked with his hand on your lower back, as if you might faint without him. You reached the correct section and found the bottles that said prenatal vitamins - you picked up one of the bottles, checking the price.

“Jesus. Why are these so expensive?”

Eddie looked over your shoulder, seeing the $30 price tag. “Shit. I don’t know, baby. But I don’t have enough for that on me.”

“Me either.” You sat the bottle back on the counter. “I guess it’ll be fine until we can afford it.”

Eddie was quiet. He felt like he was failing you and his babies. “I could sell-“

“No, Eddie,” you snapped. You did not want him selling drugs again. “We’ll figure it out. You started applying for jobs, right?”

Eddie was quiet for a moment. “Yeah. Of course I have.”

“Then you should have something soon,” you said, “and we’ll get it then.”

Eddie felt like shit walking out of the pharmacy with you empty handed. He felt like the biggest failure, just as bad of a dad as his own. He had spent some of the last of what he had on some weed - he knew it was wrong and that you had both agreed, but he was so stressed, he needed something. He felt horrible about it now, though.

He drove you back to your house. When he shut off the engine in your driveway behind your parents’ fancy cars, he looked over at you. “Are you sure you want to go in there? You know you can spend the night with me any time.”

“I know,” you said softly, almost like you regretted it immediately. “I’ll be okay. They’ll notice something’s up if I don’t come home at all. I’ll call you tonight.”

“Okay, baby.” Eddie leaned over and pressed a kiss to your lips. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“I know,” you mustered up a smile as he pulled away from your lips. You didn’t really want to leave Eddie, but you at least had to stay until they went to bed. They weren’t completely stupid.

Eddie watched you climb out of the van and walk to your front door. He watched until you were safely inside - only then did he allow himself to start his engine and pull away.

You could tell something was off the second you walked into the house. Your dad sat in his chair looking smug, while your mom paced nervously. Your dad looked pleased to see you when you walked in.

“What’s going on?” you asked cautiously. You weren’t sure if you were prepared for the answer.

“What’s going on,” your dad said, “is that little boyfriend of yours is finally going to get what’s coming to him.”

Your blood froze. “What do you mean?”

“I had a talk with Officer Callahan,” he said. “And he agrees that Eddie needs to be taught a lesson. They have proof he’s been dealing.”

You felt sick to your stomach, like you were two seconds away from getting sick on the floor. “Dad, no. Eddie quit, he doesn’t do anything like that anymore. He’s a good guy, please.”

Your dad looked almost pleased with himself, like he was happy to see you so distraught. “He should have made better choices. Maybe this will set him on the right path.”

“Dad, come on. Don’t do this.”

“You need to grow up. You both need to grow up. You need to find someone who actually deserves you. Someone better.”

You felt like screaming. You felt like throwing something at your father’s face.

“It’s for the best,” your mom finally spoke up. “It will scare him straight, at least.”

Was this your fault? Were you ruining Eddie’s life just by being in it? Your parents were being ridiculous, but that doesn’t mean the police department would see it that way. You couldn’t stand the idea of Eddie getting in serious trouble, especially not with babies on the way.

You ran upstairs, picking up the phone on your bedside table. You dialed Eddie’s number, hoping he’d had the chance to get back home by now.

“Hello?” he answered, sounding confused.

“Baby,” you said. “My dad did something really fucking stupid.”

Quiet. Then, “What?”

“He said the police are after you for dealing,” you cried. “He said you’re going to get in trouble.”

“Shit,” Eddie hissed. “Your dad’s a real piece of work, huh?”

“I’m scared,” you admitted. “Really scared.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he said. He was always so calming to you, even over the phone where you couldn’t see his face or soak in the warmth of his arms. “But it’s going to be okay. I haven’t even been dealing lately. They’ve got nothing on me.”

“Are you sure?” you sniffled.

“I’m sure. Your dad’s just trying to scare us. He’s just a dick.”

You laughed, wiping at the tears on your face. “Yeah. He is.”

“Believe me, baby. We’re going to be okay.” You knew if Eddie were here he’d be brushing your hair behind your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You wished he was.

“Okay.” You trusted Eddie wholeheartedly, and if he said there was nothing to worry about, you were going to try to listen to him.

“I need you to get some rest, okay baby?” he said. “For yourself and for those little babies.”

“Okay,” you agreed. “I love you, Eds.”

“I love you too, babe.”

—

Eddie’s last day of school was nearing. He had put in his request to drop out, and had been putting in job applications all over. He was stressed, that was clear, and you felt bad, like it was all your fault.

The Hellfire Club didn’t know it was their last typical Hellfire meeting. Eddie walked in and the guys all looked up from where they’d been sitting, going over their characters.

“Well, boys, I have some news,” Eddie said, kicking one foot up onto his throne and leaning on his knee. This got everyone’s attention, and they leaned in closer, hanging on to Eddie’s every word.

“What’s going on?” Gareth asked. They could tell Eddie looked serious, and that scared them.

He held his hands out. “Well, it seems, that I…am going to be a father?”

The guys all just stared at him. “You’re what?” Jeff asked. “No fucking way.”

“No no no no no,” Gareth said, shaking his head like he was trying to clear the thoughts from it. “You’re not- huh???”

Eddie gave a halfhearted shrug. “I knocked up my girlfriend.”

“You’re not being serious,” Dustin said.

“There’s no way he’s being serious,” Mike added. “He’s full of shit.”

Eddie reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. He pulled the ultrasound photo out between his pointer and middle finger, holding it up. Gareth snatched it from his grasp, the guys looking over his shoulder.

Sure enough, it had your name written at the top. But that didn’t mean it was real. “Bullshit,” Gareth said. “This isn’t a baby. And there’s two little blobs. Nice try.”

“And that’s where we come to the second part of my news,” Eddie said. “It’s twins.”

The room froze. Everyone was looking up at their DM with horror and shock. “You’re being serious?” Grant asked.

“Dead serious,” Eddie said. “Those are my little beans in there.”

Everyone looked back down at the ultrasound, trying to make sense of it, of everything. They couldn’t wrap their minds around Eddie - their Eddie - being a father. It seemed absurd.

“So…” Dustin began, knowing there was more to the story.

“So…” Eddie contributed. “I’m dropping out. Have to get a job to take care of the babies.”

That sent a silence over the group. “You’re what?” Jeff asked.

“I have to,” Eddie said. “It’s the only way I can take care of my family, man.”

“Eddie, you’ve worked so hard to graduate. You’re just going to drop out your third senior year so close to graduation?” Jeff was hurting for his friend, being one of the only Hellfire Club members to be around for so long and see the work Eddie had put in. No one wanted to see Eddie fail at his goals.

“I have to,” Eddie repeated, dejected.

“And, wait-“ Gareth said. “What about the band, man? What about our dreams with Corroded Coffin?”

Eddie’s heart sunk. “I…I mean I can try to still be in the band, but-“

“But your family’s going to come first now.” Gareth snorted, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you’d do this to us.”

“I didn’t get her pregnant on purpose, man,” Eddie said, getting frustrated with his best friend. “Shit happens.”

“‘Shit happens’? Really Eddie?” Gareth was getting more upset by the second, standing to face Eddie. “That’s what you have to say for yourself?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Eddie retorted. “My family is none of your business.”

“Your family, oh right,” Gareth scoffed. “I thought we were your family! I knew something was going to happen the second you started dating that girl-“

“Don’t talk about her,” Eddie said, his voice low, a warning.

Gareth was taken aback. “Jesus, Eddie. You really have changed.”

Eddie shook his head. “What, just because I love my girlfriend? Is it not metal enough for you to have a family with my girlfriend? Grow up, man.”

The guys were all speechless. This was not the Eddie they thought they knew. The Eddie who treated D&D and Corroded Coffin as the most important things in the world - his first babies. Now he was throwing them away in favor of you and the real ones.

“I understand why you feel the need to do this,” Dustin said, careful so as not to set Eddie off again, “but can’t we still have Hellfire Club meetings outside of school?”

Eddie thought for a minute. “You guys want to take it outside just so you can keep playing with me?”

“Hell yeah,” Mike said. “You’re the best damn DM we could dream of.”

Eddie cracked a smile at that. “Where could we have it?”

“My house?” Mike offered. “We have a whole basement we can use.”

Eddie nodded. “Okay. This could work. I might be a little busy, though. Being a dad and all.”

The guys laughed and congratulated Eddie - except for Gareth, who was still pissed off. Eddie didn’t miss the lack of support from his best friend. “Come on, man. Don’t be like this.”

“Be like what, Eddie?” Gareth questioned, standing. “Upset that you’re ruining the chances of the band ever making it? Upset that you’re just giving up on school and dropping out on your third attempt that you were definitely going to succeed this time? How can you just throw your life away?”

“Gareth, I don’t have a choice,” Eddie said, trying to get it through the drummer’s head. “These babies are coming. Nothing’s going to change that.”

Gareth didn’t calm. He gritted his teeth, looking Eddie in the eyes. “You’ve changed, man.”

“Yeah, you have to when you become a dad!” Eddie said, waving his hands around for emphasis. “Come on, Gare. You’re my best friend. You don’t want to be Uncle Gare to two extremely cute kids?”

Gareth dared to crack the tiniest smile. “Stop.”

“Just think about how cute they’re gonna be,” Eddie continued. “Little metalhead babies.”

Gareth was softening. He didn’t like the changes this promised, he didn’t want Eddie to grow up so fast, but he had to admit to himself the image of Eddie as a dad made him feel a little proud of his friend. “You gonna have them listening to Metallica in the womb?”

Eddie laughed. “Damn right.”

“Do you really have to drop out, though?” Jeff asked, still concerned. “What’s that going to do to you, dude? You’ve worked so hard.”

“I’m fine.” Eddie looked around. It was clear he was trying not to be affected, to look like he didn’t care. He clearly cared a lot. “It’s just what needs to be done. So I’m doing what I have to do.”

Everyone was quiet. No one had a better idea, but they didn’t want to see Eddie throw away his hard work, either.

“Okay, man,” Grant said. “Do what you have to do.”

“And congratulations,” Dustin added. “On being a dad and all.”

Eddie smiled a little. “Thanks, dude.”

“Yeah, man, congratulations,” Mike said.

Grant and Jeff congratulated him too, but Gareth still seemed upset. In agreement that the Hellfire Club would continue outside of school, everyone felt a little better, but their final campaign in the drama room was bittersweet.

—

Eddie got a job as a dishwasher at Benny’s. He hated it.

He had dropped out and was now working full time, doing something he absolutely hated - and he realized just how much dropping out affected him. He was depressed. He lost his sense of worth, feeling like the biggest failure imaginable. Took my senior year three times and still never graduated, he’d think to himself as he washed dishes until his hands were red and raw. Now look at me.

You didn’t get to see Eddie as often anymore. News was out at school - everyone knew Eddie dropped out because you were pregnant. At least you didn’t have to hide the belly anymore - you could dress normally at school. It was at home that you had to be careful.

You hadn’t heard anything else about Eddie getting in trouble, so you hoped your dad had just been bluffing. You never put it past him, though.

“Hi, pretty girl,” Eddie greeted you at the door as you reached it. He had just gotten off work and it was obvious, his eyes red and tired. He pulled you into his slender chest, his long arms wrapped around your body. You buried your face in his shirt.

“Missed you,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I missed you too,” he said, and he meant it. He missed you all day while he was at work. He thought of you and the babies constantly - do it for them.

You didn’t get to see Eddie as often anymore. He usually worked late, and by the time he was getting home you were going to bed. This was the first night you’d gotten to spend with him all week.

“They’ve grown,” he said as you stepped back, placing his hand on your belly.

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “Word’s out at school. I don’t know how much longer I can keep it from my parents at this rate.”

Eddie frowned. He knew it would be bad when they found out. “You look cute,” he said, changing the subject.

“Thanks,” you blushed. “I don’t feel cute.”

“Being pregnant with my kids is a good look on you,” he smirked. “Maybe I’ll have to give you another one-“

“One pregnancy at a time, babe,” you laughed.

“Come on,” Eddie said, “I’m exhausted. I just want to hold you in bed.”

You weren’t arguing. He led you by the hand back to his bedroom - quickly cleaning up something on his bed and shoving it into the closet. You gave him a strange look, but didn’t push it.

He pulled his shirt over his head and laid down on the bed. You joined him, cuddled up against his chest. His fingers played absentmindedly with your hair while you laid together. Eddie turned, catching you looking at him. He smiled and pressed his lips to yours.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he muttered against your lips.

“Missed you more,” you teased back, but his kisses were quickly taking your breath away. You were breathing heavily, his tongue pressing into your mouth and exploring it eagerly.

His hand slipped under your shirt, brushing over the bump before reaching your tits. He palmed them over your bra, moaning into the kiss. You moaned lightly, hips involuntarily grinding against his, feeling him already hard beneath his jeans.

He slipped your shirt over your head and unhooked your bra, kissing all over the exposed skin, his tongue flicking at your nipples. They were more sensitive now and had you arching your back into him, his hands sliding along your back as he sucked on your tits.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “It’s been so long. I need you.”

“I need you too,” you agreed, your panties already soaked at the mere thought of having Eddie inside you again.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he asked, kissing back up to your neck. “I need you bad. But I don’t want to hurt them.”

“You’re not going to hurt them,” you promised him. “They’re safe in there.”

Eddie grinned. “Does this mean I get to fuck you raw now?”

You blushed, the idea sending heat straight to your throbbing core. “I guess so.”

Eddie groaned, diving back in to bite at your neck as his hand expertly undid your jeans. He pushed them down as much as he could before his hand was beneath your panties, tracing through your soaking folds.

“So ready for me,” he mumbled. “You want this just as bad, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you moaned, writhing in your need to be touched.

“Looking a little desperate, baby,” he teased. “Do you need me?”

“Need you so bad,” you moaned. You had no shame, you were desperate for Eddie to fuck you and you wanted him to know.

Eddie groaned from low in his throat. He slipped a finger inside you, pumping it slowly. You gasped at the sudden feeling, then you were grinding your hips down, wanting more.

“Needy little pussy,” he whispered in your ear. “Look at how desperate she is to take me.”

You whined. Your mind was going hazy, you weren’t thinking straight. With Eddie’s finger pumping into you, his calloused thumb rubbing at your clit, and his mouth kissing and nipping at your neck, you were in another world.

“Need it now,” Eddie said, then he was sitting up, pushing his own jeans and boxers down and pulling your clothes the rest of the way off. His hard cock sprung free against his stomach, ruddy tip leaking.

Eddie lined his cock up with your entrance, pushing just the tip inside. He moaned, loud - his first time feeling you raw and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to last more than two seconds. He couldn’t look at you like this - it was going to make him bust immediately. He buried his face into your neck instead, rolling his hips to push his cock in the rest of the way.

You whimpered, holding onto him tightly. Everything was so much more sensitive now, you felt as if you could feel every ridge and vein of Eddie’s cock, heightening the pleasure. His hips snapped into yours quickly, as if he’d lost control and needed more and more of you.

His old bed squeaked as he fucked you, his groans muffled into your neck. You gasped, tangling your fingers in his long curls, pulling slightly. That made him shudder, tightening his grip on your thigh, a choked moan coming from his lips.

“Baby, baby, baby,” he moaned, kissing from your neck to your shoulder and all over your chest. “You’re so beautiful. Feel so good. Your pussy is so perfect.”

You whined. “Feels good, Ed.”

“Yeah?” he panted, speeding up his pace just a little. “You like that?”

“Mmhmm,” you moaned, eyes falling closed.

“Tell me,” he breathed. “Tell me what you like.”

“I love when you fuck me like this,” you whined. “I love your cock.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You opened your eyes to see him staring intently down at you, eyes locked on your face, his cheeks tinged pink with the exertion and his impending orgasm. “It’s so big. Fucks me so good.”

Eddie groaned, his head dropping forward. His curls tickled your breasts, moving with his thrusts. “I’m so close,” he choked out. “Need you to cum for me.”

You were close, too. Especially when he reached down and rubbed against your clit, making you gasp. Everything was so sensitive, his touch sending electricity through your veins.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “I can feel you- holy shit- you’re so tight around me-“

Eddie tried his best to hold back, but the feeling of your pussy clenching around him as you came sent him over the edge. He let out a strangled gasp that turned into a loud moan as his orgasm hit him abruptly, cumming deep into you for the first time - on purpose, at least. He rutted into you with shallow thrusts as he shot his load into you, body trembling from the intensity.

After he pulled out, he flopped onto the bed next to you, his chest heaving with his breaths. You eyed the posters covering his walls, his guitar - his sweetheart - hanging across from you. It was all so Eddie. God, you loved him.

“That was insane,” he laughed, turning on his side and throwing his arm across your waist. “I needed that, baby.”

You kissed his nose, then his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” His hand rubbed over your belly, a goofy grin on his face. “All three of you.”

You fell asleep in Eddie’s arms, cuddled closely to his chest. You slept peacefully, feeling safe and loved.

Eddie had a different experience. He couldn’t sleep, mind racing with thoughts of his life and future. He stared up at his ceiling, a sinking feeling in his chest. He was so disappointed in himself. This was supposed to be his year. He was supposed to graduate, make something of himself. Instead, here he was, a high school dropout washing dishes with soon to be two children to support.

He was a loser, just like he’d feared. Just like his dad. He had done everything in his power to keep from this fate, but it was all for nothing.

Mostly, he felt guilty for the babies. What kind of dad could he be if he could barely take care of himself? He made so little at Benny’s - it was better than nothing, but not by much. How the hell could he pay for the things two babies would need? And what about you?

He knew you deserved better. All three of you deserved better.

The only thing that got him through was the weed. He had promised you he would stop, but he was smoking more. It was a daily thing now, every second he had that he could get high, he’d take it. He was so miserable with his life, he needed the release.

You would be furious. Eddie knew that. He knew he shouldn’t still be smoking, he shouldn’t be wasting the little money he had on weed. He had even been calling out on days he got too high - which happened decently often. He knew his behavior was only solidifying his status as a total fucking deadbeat loser, but he couldn’t help it.

He had to have something to keep him going. He was so fucking depressed he didn’t know what to do with himself. If the weed helped, so be it.

Eddie crept out of the bed, careful not to disturb you. He opened his closet as quietly as possible and pulled out his stash box. He had a joint already rolled, which he plucked from the box and stuck behind his ear as he grabbed his lighter from the dresser and walked outside.

Taking a seat on the front steps, he removed the joint from his ear and brought it to his lips, sparking it up. He took a deep drag, the pungent smoke creeping down into his lungs. He held it, then released, the smoke billowing out from his lips in big clouds.

The warmth took over his body quickly. He felt lighter, happier. Every drag of the joint made those negative thoughts float farther away. He wasn’t thinking about his shitty job, or the fact he was going to be a father, or that he had dropped out of school and pissed off all his friends. There were no worries.

For that moment, everything was fine.

part 2 very soon

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euseokz · 1 day ago

Text

@ sungchan — why are you this shitty ? . cws : toxic behaviour . use of ‘whore’ . unprotected sex . creampie . wc : 4.2k+ . genre : angst + smut

a/n : somehow included my babyboys leehan and jaehyun because i love them very much 😛

you knew it wasn’t a good idea to agree to go out with EX-BOYFRIEND! SUNGCHAN again.

and yet, you still did.

sungchan and you didn’t break up on good terms. in fact, you thought there were very few other ways that could be worse.

it all started with you befriending leehan — or better yet, rekindling your old friendship. leehan was an old friend from your childhood, you grew up as neighbors and spent basically every hour of every day together, your parents getting along just as well with his. as kids, you’d do almost everything together. go to school, eat lunch, take after school naps, play whatever silly new game you had come up with. it was sweet really. but then you turned ten, and around that time leehan’s family moved away because of his father’s work. it hit you hard, but you both promised to survive it, dramatizing things a bit because it truly felt like you were losing a sibling by being away from each other. your parents kept in contact with his however, and once or twice a year his family would come to visit, but by then you were teens, too caught up in your own worlds to care enough to create a bond in the few days he was over, knowing you’d lose it again soon enough. you grew further apart as you aged, even more when you moved away to another city for work, already in your 20’s, full of hopes and dreams, ready to build your own path — which was when you met sungchan.

he was the friend of one of your colleagues, and you only even met him because said colleague, sohee, was throwing a little summer get-together at his house and invited a lot of people from your work who were close in age to him and that he got along with, that somehow including you. you always saw it as a pity invite, a way to try to include the new girl and not make her feel left out, sohee was nice enough to do something like that after all. you took the invite gladly either way, seeing it as an opportunity to make a new workplace friend and also just make new friends in general!

it was a good time, it was warm out as the soft summer breeze and higher temperatures came in, a guy you later learned to be named eunseok behind a small bar making cocktails, not stopping even when sohee told him to just go have fun. he seemed to like being there, keeping a bit more to himself but still having fun in his own way, talking with some people and even dancing but still keeping what seemed to be a safe distance from the more erratic part of the afternoon, that being the loud music and half-drunk people by the pool. it wasn’t a huge gather by any means, but it also wasn’t small, probably around 30 people there, apparently more than sohee even expect since, from what he told you when you walked in, some of his friends brought plus ones, not that he seemed to mind, just happy everyone was having fun.

at some point you ended up by the makeshift bar, talking with eunseok about how pretty the sky looked, hues of orange and pink glazing it as the sunset drew upon it. eunseok was funny, he had a somewhat weird humor, kinda dry maybe, but he was funny, and also cute, cute enough for you to almost muster up enough courage to ask him if he was doing anything next weekend — until sungchan showed up, and all the sudden attraction you felt towards eunseok went down the drain.

sungchan was tall, wearing only a pair of swim shorts with a big seven on the side and a pair of flip flops, water from the pool still dripping from his hair and leaving wet trails down his toned body. he didn’t notice you at first, approaching eunseok directly and asking for a beer, looking like he was in a rush to go back to wherever he came from — the pool, you assumed — until eunseok let out a small, discreet cough, ever so slightly pointing towards your direction with his head before leaning down to pick up a beer from the cooler on the floor.

“oh, i didn’t even see you there, i’m sorry” were the first words sungchan ever told you, his smile staying in place as he spoke, his eyes sparkling a little more once they laid on you, or so you thought that happened. that was the beginning of it all, a small conversation turning into you two going to a calmer corner to keep the chat going, the date you thought about having next weekend ending up being with sungchan, taking only a few more before you were officially dating.

sungchan treated you like a princess, proud to introduce you to everyone he knew, happy to do anything you asked. you genuinely thought you would marry him someday, that hopeful day never coming.

it was a couple years after you started dating that you got a call from your parents saying that leehan was now living in your city. you didn’t give it much thought, only seeing him as a childhood friend now, no space for him in your life. but then you ran into him by some weird coincidence in a coffee shop you and sungchan frequently went to. he was there by himself, sitting in a small table with his laptop and a snack. it took you a moment to register who he was, his little boy features long gone and it wasn’t like you had seen leehan recently. more out of courtesy than anything, you went to greet him, sungchan looking from afar calmly as you approached an old friend.

“the long hair suits you” you spoke as you stood by leehan’s table. he looked up at you, also confused for a second before recognizing you.

“thank you” he answered, his smile the same from when you were kids somehow, even if almost every single one of his features had matured, his smile remained the same.

you talked briefly, and what was supposed to be only a courtesy greeting transformed into a trip down memory lane, that eventually ended with him sitting with you and sungchan, both of you sharing silly stories from when you were kids all while sungchan smiled softly, listening attentively, happy to see you so excited.

you and leehan kept in contact after that, and sungchan never had any problem with it, because why would he? he had his friends, you were allowed to have yours, right? right. that thought process of his didn’t last long, however, remaining until you and leehan got closer and started spending more and more time together. you never ditched on sungchan to be with leehan, you never broke any boundaries with leehan, you were genuinely just friends, no attraction involved from either side, a simple, innocent friendship connecting you. you knew that, leehan knew that, even sungchan’s friends saw that — but he didn’t. sungchan started thinking you two were too close, too intimate, spending too much time alone. it started small, sungchan making snarky remarks whenever leehan came up in conversation, escalating to him out right being rude towards leehan whenever you all hung out. it bothered you, bothered you enough for you to even talk to eunseok, ask what he thought about it.

“you’re just friends, right? sungchan is overreacting, probably just jealous, he’ll get over it” eunseok remarked, the problem becoming that sungchan never got over it, coming to a point where you had to put your foot down.

“‘chan, you have your friends, i never questioned any of them, never doubted your relationship with them as anything more, so why are you so mad about me and leehan? we’re just friends, that’s all!” you said, agitated, the issue between you two having already been going on for far too long.

“i don’t fuck my friends, that’s the difference” sungchan answered calmly, that sort of calmness that comes before a storm. you didn’t know where that came from, all you knew was that sungchan’s words led to a massive fight between you two, one that ended with you breaking up in the heat of the moment, throwing away years spent in a relationship over a stupid issue that could be resolved over a simple, honest conversation.

sungchan tried to apologize in the weeks following the argument, saying he was completely out of his mind, admitting what he said came purely from his own insecurities, claiming that he wanted to be together again. you accepted his apology, but much to sungchan’s despair, you didn’t take him back, saying you wouldn’t allow that sort of disrespect from a partner. sungchan wasn’t pleased with that, but he took the no for an answer, leaving you alone. it wasn’t easy, you cried most nights, wondering if you did the right thing, questioning everything that led up to it. you came to terms with it at some point tho, months passing and the pain fading away with them. you heard from sungchan sometimes, even seeing him rarely, the friendship you had built with sohee and eunseok remaining even after you broke up with their friend. they didn’t think what he did or said was right, that comforting you somehow, knowing that you weren’t crazy for thinking sungchan’s actions were completely out of line. leehan never heard any of it, that becoming the first time you ever lied to him, explaining that you and sungchan broke up because you simply started growing apart.

“i liked him, you know” leehan once said, almost a year having already passed since the break up. “he treated me a bit weirdly towards the end, but he was a nice guy” leehan continued, completely unaware of how sungchan actually felt towards him and what he thought of him. you giggled, and out of instinct, you hugged leehan, the sound of autumn leaves falling against the grass of the park you were in serving as background noise when you told him how happy you were to have found him again. leehan let out a small laugh, hugging you back, admitting he too was happy you had met up again — neither of you aware sungchan was just on the other side of the street, watching as a new girl held his hand, old malicious thoughts rushing back to his head. that was the start of it all.

the start of you getting to know just how shitty your ex-boyfriend truly was.

it started small. sohee started slightly avoiding you at work, never holding up a conversation for too long, even if his genuine smile always remained, some excuse always coming up as to why he had to go. he seemed nervous around you, uncomfortable maybe, as if he was doing something wrong by even looking in your direction. you found it weird, but thought maybe he just had some other issue going on in his life that he didn’t want to talk to you about, his personal problems probably affecting his usual behaviour. then, after a few weeks, you asked when you two and eunseok could hangout again.

“oh we’re both totally busy that day, i’m sorry” sohee replied through an anxious smile.

“i didn’t mention a date tho?”

“yeah but we’ll be busy” those were sohee’s last words before he ran off, that being what triggered you to realize something was definitely going on, and most definitely not just some problem he didn’t wanna discuss with you — so you went to eunseok. you hadn’t talked to him in a while, which wasn’t odd, he rarely ever reached out first, but maybe he could tell you why sohee’s behavior had been so strange lately.

“it’s sungchan” eunseok sighed once you approached him at his favorite bar, lucking out that he was alone there on a random friday night. “he’s been saying some shitty stuff about you and saying we shouldn’t come near you. i don’t believe any of his bullshit, i don’t think sohee does either, but you know sungchan, he can be an asshole when he wants, sohee probably just doesn’t wanna cause any trouble”

“what do you mean?” you asked after a second, confused, sitting down by eunseok’s side, now even more curious about what was apparently going on.

“look, you don’t wanna know, trust me. just forget about sungchan’s stupid ass, this will blow over and things will go back to normal” that answer, as intentionally vague as it was, only left you even more interested in what was going on so, after some more questions that almost made eunseok get up and leave to avoid problems on either side, he finally caved in.

“sungchan…” he started, sighing before proceeding “he’s been telling everyone that you cheated on him with leehan, that you two had something going on beyond just a friendship i guess”

“what?” you asked, more speechless than anything, incredulous that this was all coming back after so long.

“yeah, at least between us he has been calling you a whore, saying you were never worth his time” eunseok added, this time unable to lift his head, staring straight into the glass cup between his fingers. “if it matters, as i said, i don’t believe any of it, and i don’t think anyone else does. i know he’s my friend, but sungchan is just something else… not a bad person, just bad with relationships. he’s never gone this far tho” eunseok finished, blatantly trying to apologize for his friend’s behaviour. it didn’t work, if anything it only made you angry, so you left without another word, heading home before doing something stupid.

after that you started avoiding sohee at work, not because you were mad at him, but so you wouldn’t say something out of impulse that would just worsen the situation. for weeks you thought about what to do, how to get back at sungchan, but eventually you gave up. it was like eunseok said that one night, sungchan is an asshole, so you decided he wasn’t worth your time.

as time passed, more weeks and then months going by, things eventually got back to normal. sohee apologized when he found out what eunseok told you, which led to you three finally having your friendship again. some of sungchan’s closest friends also came to you later on saying they didn’t believe any word of what he said, one of them that you were never particularly close with, wonbin, even pointing out that the other few people sungchan talked about the matter with also never believed him. weirdly enough that made you feel relieved, knowing that sungchan’s credibility was below zero. from that point on you kept living your life as you intended, working, meeting new people, enjoying yourself without caring about some stupid ex-boyfriend you had. you even met someone new, jaehyun, a guy leehan met through a friend and that was just the sweetest. you weren’t actually dating, only going out here and there, getting to know each other at a slow pace, but it was nice to be reassured that not every guy sucked, especially since leehan really backed up jaehyun, saying he was truly a good guy, and his opinion mattered to you, so you took it as a good sign. all in all, things were going well — until sungchan reached out.

“can we meet up?” you read on your phone, the contact it came from named simply sungchan, no longer ‘channie with two heart emojis after it. you didn’t even know why you kept his number, didn’t even remember you still had it in fact, and something about it all felt off. why would he text you? why would he want to meet up? and most of all, why did you reply with a “yes, when?”.

you felt dumb, but after exchanging a few messages, two days later you found yourself ringing the doorbell to sungchan’s apartment. he opened the door without saying a word, stepping aside so you could come in. it looked different, most of the same furniture but placed in a different manner, the smaller decorations on shelves and such almost completely different, the frames that once had pictures of you two now showing him with another girl you didn’t know.

a few moments passed as you looked around, only able to see the small entryway and open kitchen to living room space, his bedroom tucked away behind it’s closed door, his bathroom too. it was dark, only the moon’s light extending through the space and somehow brightening it up enough for you to notice the small details. you had always liked that his windows were big, not only because you spent so many nights wrapped up with him on his couch with the room just as dim as it was in that moment, but also because when you woke up in his bed you had a perfect view through his living room windows. you shook your head slightly though, focusing on the present, a movement to attempt to let go of old, now basically meaningless, memories.

“why did you want me to come here?” you asked, finally looking at sungchan, his tall figure standing just a couple feet behind you.

“why did you come?” he questioned back, looking serious, which made you scoff. this has to be a joke, you thought to yourself, letting out a small laugh before starting to make your way back towards the front door. “wait!” sungchan suddenly said when he noticed where you were headed, positioning himself in front of you, his hands unsurely rising up and softly popping onto your shoulders. “i wanna talk”

“i don’t think we have much to talk about, especially after you called me a whore behind my back”

sungchan winced, looking away from your eyes for a second before focusing again, an almost pleading look behind his own gaze.

“i know what i did was wrong, all of it, from start to end… it was wrong, it was awful, and i can’t apologize enough to make up for it. but i still want to make things right” sungchan practically begged, his tone soft, softer than you remember it ever having been. he sighed, a long sigh, and you almost felt bad for him in that moment — better yet, you felt bad enough for him to accept what he said next.

“can we try again?”

you didn’t blink, you didn’t even think or breath before saying “yes”, a rush of emotions flooding you, things you thought you had forgotten or moved past crashing you harder then they ever should.

sungchan smiled incredulously, pulling you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around your shoulders, unsure of what to even do with himself so just going for a tight embrace. you placed your own arms around his waist, your grip looser than his. you didn’t know what possessed you to say yes, it felt wrong but also right. you thought of jaehyun for a second, what you’d tell him. you were just going out though, so it was fine you guessed, leehan’s pouting when you told him probably more of a hassle to deal with — and then you remembered about the photos around sungchan’s apartment, the girl with him in them.

“what about your girlfriend?” you asked, getting an instant reply “i broke up with her last night”

there was no hesitation in sungchan’s speech, even less when he backed away ever so slightly, hands moving to cup your cheeks softly, his eyes glued to yours before both your lids fell close, his lips pressing into yours.

it was soft, a simple peck, a quick touch of his lips on yours — but then he sucked on your bottom one, and as you always used to do, you kissed him back. no hesitation again, no second thought, just pure instinct you assumed, what you two had in the past meddling with how you acted in the present, all the bad things that happened suddenly meaningless.

you now pulled at sungchan’s loose shirt, each tug at it seemingly making both of you more desperate. this wasn’t what either of you had expected from this evening. sungchan was sure you’d just slap him across the face — if you decided to actually show up, that is — and leave his apartment without a word. you expected to hear some shitty apologies from him, which in all truthfulness you did get, and to walk out after calling him a total asshole. neither of you expected this, that not even a half hour after you came into his home you’d be laying on his couch, the plush surface as comfortable as you remembered, while sungchan was positioned over you, his top long gone, thrown somewhere probably across his counter, your own shirt pushed halfway up your torso as your ex’s hands — the same ex you were supposed to absolutely hate — roamed freely across your body, warm fingertips leaving lingering trails across your sides, digging into your skin as if he wanted to pull you as close to him as humanly possible, the way his tongue slid into your mouth and allowed you to suck on it most definitely not something you predicted would ever happen again.

it was fast, not rushed, but definitely a swift pace. neither of you completely undressed, apparently no time for that. apart from sungchan already being shirtless, he only bothered with pushing his pants down enough for his bulging cock to pop out, veins running up it’s length while a drop of pre shined on his tip. you, however, let your shirt be as it was, the fabric bunched just below your chest, only interested in taking off your bottoms, your panties going along with them towards the ground.

sungchan’s eyes focused on your pussy, your clit ever so slightly moving from how aroused you were, wanting his fingers or tongue to play with it, your folds wet with your own arousal. sungchan spread your legs even more, his left hand placed at the back of your right thigh, holding it up against your chest, your other leg assuming the same position automatically. his free hand wrapped around his cock, giving it one single stroke before pressing his pink head against your clit, moving it side to side against it. you let out a small sigh merged with a moan, the slight relief heavenly. sungchan smirked, not needing to look at your blissful expression to know you liked it — he didn’t spend much time toying with you like that however, pushing away for just a second so he could spit on his cock, smearing his saliva along it’s entire thickness before finally tapping his dripping tip against your hole, looking up at you as he slid in, your eyes locked as both your faces contorted into ones that showed explicit pleasure, moving his hips the full way until he bottomed out.

“you feel just as good as i remember” sungchan muttered “such a pretty pussy, taking me so well”

no time was wasted after that. sungchan’s strokes started growing in speed, starting languid until he was pistoning into you, both hands now pressing your thighs against your chest, damn nearly completely folding you in half, his eyes shifting between your glossy with pleasure expression and the sight of your cunt swallowing him whole, your clit twitching as your high started to build, your entire being so immersed in how good sungchan’s cock felt stretching you out it didn’t take nearly as long as it usually would for your orgasm to threaten to rupture.

sungchan kept going, fucking you steadily, his own bliss or the way your slick walls clamped down around his girth not stopping him from giving you everything he had, all the pent up need he had felt for you ever since your break-up releasing itself in that moment — all it took being one louder moan from you, your fingers digging at his arms and your body shaking ever so slightly for him to cum too, following your lead almost, his seed filling your pussy up nicely.

you both stood still for a moment, catching your breaths, your firm grip on sungchan’s arms loosening and his fingers losing strength from the hold they had on the plush flesh of your thighs. you were both in nirvana, so caught up in your own ecstasy you forgot everything, both your minds numb in pleasure before slowly coming back to yourselves.

minutes later, after you both cleaned up, you now laid on sungchan’s bed, his scent almost overwhelming, everything surrounding you his — the hold he had around you, his sheets covering you up to your nose, even the t-shirt you wore.

“does this all mean i’m forgiven?” he questioned, breaking the silence you had surrounded yourselves with.

“you're still the shittiest boyfriend a girl could ever have, so i don’t know” you answered, this time actually thinking about what you were saying.

“you are laying in my bed tho, so where does that leave us?” sungchan replied, a small chuckle between his words.

“i guess we’re both just shitty… that’s probably it”

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adriana931104 · 1 day ago

Text

One last time!?

pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

summary: This is a deeply intimate and heartfelt story about two souls, finding their way back to each other after time pulled them apart. In the quiet warmth of a shared night, they rediscover the depth of their connection - through tender touches, whispered confessions, and lingering glances. As old wounds and unspoken fears come to light, so does the love they never truly let go.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content (18+), strong language (in a light way), emotional vulnerability and themes of abandonment, mentions of past separation und inner conflict, mature themes (grief, fear of love, self-worth)

word counts: 5776 words

note: English isn't my first language.

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The deep hum of the ventilation was the only thing breaking the silence. Dean sat at the kitchen table, an old, battered tome open in front of him, smelling of leather, dust, and centuries-old secrets. His brow was furrowed, eyes fixed on the page, but I knew he hadn't been reading for a while. In front of him stood a half-empty bottle of whiskey. Typical Dean.

I paused in the doorway for a moment. The faint light from the ceiling lamp cast shadows across his angular features, making him look older, tired. But there was also that familiar calm in his presence that I had always admired—maybe more than was good for me.

Quietly, I walked over to him, pulled out the chair across from him, and let myself fall into it. Dean looked up. His eyes scanned my face – briefly, but intensely. Then he looked back down at the table. “Couldn't sleep?” I asked, grabbing the bottle without asking. The whiskey burned warmly down my throat. “No wonder, with this doomsday vibe,” Dean muttered, then looked at me again. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “And you? Night watch or just craving the company of your grumpy ex?”I raised an eyebrow. “Who says you were the grumpy one in the relationship?” Dean snorted quietly. “Just trying to be charming.” “Nice try,” I said, unable to suppress a smile. I took another sip from the bottle. “So, what's the plan? One last shot at outsmarting God?”

Dean sighed, leaned back in his chair, and looked up at the ceiling, as if the answer might be written there. “No idea. Honestly... I feel empty. I'm flipping through books like there's some damn rescue plan hidden in here, like a comic strip from the damn Marvel universe. But all I see are old spells and dead languages.”

I watched him for a moment. The tiredness in his eyes, the faint shadows beneath them. God, he had changed. We all had. But with Dean... there was this veil only a few could see. I had seen it when we were together, had felt it on the nights he could only sleep when my hand rested on his chest and he knew he wasn't alone.

“You’re doing what you always do,” I said quietly. “You don’t give up.” “Maybe it’d be smarter if I did,” he replied without looking at me. “Everyone we love either dies or disappears. I don’t know how many more times I can go through that.”

His words hit me deeper than I wanted to admit. I set the bottle back on the table, though my fingers still held onto it. “My uncle always said you were the most stubborn person he’d ever met. And that you’d never give up – no matter what.”

Dean finally looked at me again. At the mention of my uncle, something flickered in his eyes. Pain. Memory. Respect. “Nathan was like a brother to me,” he said softly. “And he’d be damn proud of you. Really. You’re better than he ever hoped. And tougher than you sometimes believe.”

I swallowed hard. It was strange hearing my uncle’s name spoken by Dean. Somehow, it healed something in me. And at the same time, it tore old wounds open. “He taught me everything. After what happened to my parents... he was all I had.”Dean nodded. His voice was rough when he said, “I know. He was a good man.”

Silence settled between us. I thought back to our first hunt together. To Dean, covered in blood, grinning because we’d taken out the demon – and how I knew in that moment I was done for. That I had fallen for a man who could save my life but never promised to stay.

“Remember how you stared at me after I saved your ass that first time?” Dean suddenly asked, a trace of mockery in his voice.I grimaced. “I didn’t stare at you.” “Oh, you did. Like a puppy who just saw its first steak.”I let out a short laugh. “It was probably the blood. And the smell of whiskey in the air.” “Sure. Not the sexy leather jacket.”We both chuckled quietly. Just for a moment. Then silence returned.

“I’ve thought about it a lot. About us,” I heard myself say eventually, my voice barely a whisper. “What it could’ve been. Or... what it was.”Dean looked at me for a long time. Then he pushed the thick book aside and rested his arms on the table. “So have I. And you know what? I don’t regret any of it. Even if it was complicated. Even if it was never meant to be easy.”

There was so much I wanted to say to him. That I still loved him. That sometimes I missed his presence so much it physically hurt. That I wondered if there would ever be another person who made me feel so... safe. If we even survived all this crap. But, as always, the right words didn’t escape me. So I just nodded. “I don’t regret anything either.”

Dean reached for the bottle, lifted it. “To Nathan,” he said before taking a long drink. Then he handed it to me across the table. I took it, mimicked his gesture. “To Nathan.”And in that moment, in the dim light of the bunker kitchen, with the world on the edge of collapse, there was a small piece of peace.

Rain hammered endlessly against the windows. Outside, the wind lashed through the trees, howling through the cracks of the half-collapsed cabin. The musty scent of wet wood hung in the air, mixed with the metallic tang of blood—a lot of blood. Dean lay on the old couch, his T-shirt torn, the bandage on his shoulder soaked through. I sat beside him on a stool, the first-aid kit open on the floor. My hands were still trembling, even though the fight was long over.

Sam had driven the Impala back to the motel before the hunt to get some rest and do research. I had offered to stay with Dean. Sam hadn’t said anything, but his look had spoken volumes—and for once, he hadn’t questioned it. No one could have foreseen how dramatically this hunt would end. It all seemed so simple, so harmless—Dean and I tracking a Rugaru. I never would’ve imagined I’d end up dragging him, badly wounded, into this abandoned cabin.

I couldn’t forget the moment I thought Dean was dead. When he’d lain motionless under the shattered window frame, his face pale, his shirt soaked red. My heart had stopped beating in that moment.“You shouldn’t have gone in there alone,” I muttered while carefully changing his bandage.Dean raised an eyebrow. “And miss the chance for you to chew me out later? Never.”I snorted. “You’re a damn idiot, Winchester.” “And you’re beautiful when you’re mad.”His voice was hoarse, but his grin flashed—just before he winced in pain.

I paused, looked at him. That grin, usually so confident, looked fragile. Like a mask worn too often. And beneath it—fear. Not of death. But of being vulnerable. I knew that look well by now. Too well. “You could’ve died,” I whispered. The words slipped out faster than I could stop them.

“Damn it, Dean… you could’ve left me alone.”His gaze met mine. Hard. Honest. Unflinching.“I’m used to being alone,” he said calmly. “But leaving you alone... that’s different.”My heart beat faster. I set the bandage aside and leaned back slightly, trying to suppress the panic that always rose when emotions got too real. We had fought for everything and everyone so many times. But never... for what was between us. Maybe because we were both afraid it would cost us the last thing we had left.

“I thought you were dead,” I said. “And in that moment… I felt it. Everything. How much you mean to me. How much you’ve always meant to me.”Dean lowered his gaze, staring at his hands. They were dirty, scratched, bloodied—hunter’s hands. Hands that had killed to protect. Hands that had held me in the few nights we’d dared to be more than colleagues.

“I felt it too,” he said quietly. “When I was lying there thinking: that’s it. No Sam, no next case, no more apple pie… there was only you. Your face. Your voice. And I knew: this… this is real. And I’ve buried it for so long because I thought I didn’t have the right.”I blinked. The air between us was heavy, charged. I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, feel the pain in his voice, the raw honesty that took my breath away.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” I asked.Dean looked at me. And in his green eyes – those damn eyes – was everything I’d ever needed to know. “Because I didn’t know how,” he said hoarsely. “Because I didn’t know if I was even allowed to. You’re… you’re so much younger. You’re Nathan’s niece. You’re a fighter. You’re too good for someone like me.”I shook my head, tears burning behind my eyes. “You’re not worth any less, Dean. You were the first person who saw me. Not as some hunter’s kid. Not as Nathan’s little girl. But as me.”

He looked at me, and this time there was no wall. No grin, no sarcasm. Just Dean. Broken. Real. Beautiful. Slowly, I leaned forward, my forehead touched his. Our noses brushed, his breath grazed my lips. “Don’t say it,” I whispered. “Not unless you feel it.”

Dean closed his eyes, his breath trembling. “I feel it. I’ve felt it since the day you stood in front of me and shot that demon off my back.”I laughed softly, a tear slipping down my cheek. “Hell of a shot,” I murmured. “That was the moment I was done for.”

Our lips met. Not a passionate kiss, not some cinematic moment. It was gentle, careful. Full of pain, longing, and a love we had both suppressed for far too long. His hand found the back of my neck, pulled me a little closer, and for one precious moment, everything disappeared—the rain, the pain, the hunt, the death.

Just us. Two broken people who had found a fragment of light in the midst of chaos and darkness.And even though neither of us said “I love you”—it was there. In his gaze. In his touch. In every second of that kiss.And that was more than I had ever dared to hope for.

The clock above the fridge ticked softly, and the memory struck me like lightning – that night I thought Dean would die. The images slid between us, as if the echo of the past had taken a seat at the table. I looked at him as he sat there, slightly hunched over the book again, his brow furrowed, his jaw tense – completely lost in thought; like he had been so often lately. The world was on the brink of collapse, God himself on the kill list, and yet in that moment, he seemed so... calm. Not peaceful. Not carefree. More like someone who had decided long ago not to show how fiercely the storm raged inside.

And in my mind, that scene from back then played over and over like a dream that wouldn't end. But it was more than a dream. It was the moment I finally realized just how much he meant to me.He was alive. He was breathing. He was sitting right in front of me. And yet something felt infinitely far away. I didn’t take my eyes off him. I just looked. For a long time. Without him noticing. And there it was again – that deep familiarity, anchored in my heart. But also that emptiness – not between us, but in me. It burned like cold embers. And at the same time, there was this sudden, almost painful warmth in my chest.

Dean Winchester.

The most beautiful man I’d ever met – and probably ever would. Not beautiful in a classic sense. Not smooth, not perfect. But real. So damn real. The fine lines around his eyes, etched from years of laughter, fighting, mourning. The tired pull around his mouth that still sometimes twisted into a grin that knocked the ground from under my feet. His hands – scarred, strong, full of history – and I knew every single one of them. His eyes, that deep green that said more than he’d ever dare to admit aloud.

I remembered the first time I truly saw him – not as a hero, not as a hunter. But as a man. As a person. After that hunt. After the fight with the rugaru. The man who had taken my heart into his hands without ever demanding it. Who never made big promises, yet every one of his looks had said more than words ever could. And damn it, he still looked just like he did back then. No... better. Deeper. More weathered. Truer.

Dean turned a page, glanced up. Our eyes met, and my heart did that traitorous lurch it always did when he looked at me. How could one man cause so much with just a glance? I didn’t look away. Pretended to be lost in thought. And in truth, all I thought about was him. Us. Everything we had – and everything that had slipped through our fingers like salt through a sieve.

I wondered if this was really it. If this was the end. Not the end of the world. Not the end of Sam, Dean, and me versus Chuck. But our end. Could I really live with that? That I’d never touch him like I did back then. That I’d never be that close again. That I’d never again hear his rough voice whisper low in my ear. That I’d never again feel his presence beside me in bed, the scratch of his stubble on my cheek when he mumbled in his sleep. That I’d never again wake up next to him, his arm draped heavy over my waist, his breathing steadier than anything else in this chaotic world. Never again that feeling of... coming home.

He was still Dean. But no longer my Dean. Not anymore. How had it come to this? How had we let what we had become this vague, unreachable distance? A subtle crack, barely noticeable, growing wider until it became impassable. And no one ever said a word. No one ever spoke the magic three. At no point was there an “I love you.” Maybe out of fear. Maybe out of pride. Maybe because we thought we had more time. And now... time was exactly what we were running out of.

Damn it, I never let myself idealize him. Not in this world. Not with what we did. And still – how could I not? He was what people imagined in stories. Strong, but not invincible. Broken, but not cold. Sometimes lost, but never hopeless.

I reached for the bottle again, slowly, deliberately, and kept my eyes on him. As if looking at him could hold him here—just for this night, this moment. And inside, I quietly, sadly, and more honestly than ever wondered: “Dean... do you miss me as much as I miss you?”

Dean felt my gaze. Finally. I saw the furrow in his brow deepen as he slowly looked up. His eyes met mine—curious, but not defensive. And there it was again: that moment. That one second when everything between us went silent. Just us. No God. No apocalypse. No ghosts. No demons. Just Dean. Just me.

“What?” he asked quietly, a hint of a smile on his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes. I forced myself to smile – just a little. Just enough to soften the moment. But inside, everything was tight and knotted.

“I…” I began, but my voice cracked. I took a deep breath. Dean pushed the book aside slightly, as if he understood that this – this – was more important. His gaze remained calm, open, but something tightened in his expression. Like it always did when it came to feelings. When it came to us. I held his gaze – because I had to. I knew: if I looked away now, I’d never say it.

“Why didn’t it work out between us, Dean?” My voice wasn’t accusing – just quiet. Honest. “We had… something. Something real.”He took a long breath, rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes wandered briefly across the table, as if searching for an answer there. “Because it just couldn’t,” he mumbled. “Because the world around us keeps falling apart and we never know if the next day might be our last. And because I… maybe I was scared too.”

I swallowed. Something in his voice broke something in me. Not loudly. Not violently. But deep. “I miss you, Dean.”The words came out without warning. Just like that. And I left them there. No going back.

Dean looked at me again. Intensely. As if he hadn’t expected me to say it. And yet, as if he needed to hear it. I continued, “I miss the way you looked at me. The way you took my hand without me having to ask. The way one look from you said more than words ever could.”I trembled slightly, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m scared, Dean. That I’ll never get that close to you again. Never you and me again. And that this is just… over.”

His face stayed still for a second. Then I saw his jaw tense, his eyes shimmer – not wet, but warmer than usual. More alive. “I never forgot you,” he said hoarsely. Then chuckled briefly. “How could I, when you’re in my face every damn day?”I rolled my eyes, and he responded with a cheeky wink. Then he got serious again. “Kidding aside. I haven’t forgotten a single damn night. I missed you – in every goddamn town, on every goddamn case where you weren’t with me. And yeah – I was scared. Scared I’d end up hurting you more than I could ever stop it.”

Without thinking, I pushed myself back from the table with both palms, my chair scraping across the floor. Dean looked surprised as I stood, took the few steps to him, hesitated, then saw him push the surprise aside. Without a word, he slid his chair back slightly – made space – let it happen. I carefully settled on his lap, my legs draped sideways across his, my heart pounding wildly. He looked at me – this mix of wonder, nostalgia – and something else. Something deeper. Something familiar. “What… what is this?” he asked, his voice low, almost a growl, rough with held-back emotion.I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I cupped his face with both hands, brushed my thumbs gently over the stubble along his jaw. His skin was warm. I looked at him for a long moment. I wanted to memorize him. In case this really was the last time.

“One last time?” I whispered at last.He understood instantly. No hesitation in his eyes – just that split second where heart and head fought. And I saw him give in. Saw his hand slide to my waist, firm but gentle. He swallowed. “One last time.”

And then I kissed him. Slowly. Full of memories. Full of longing. Full of all the words we’d never spoken, poured into lips and breath and closeness. His hands moved to my back, held me like he’d been missing me for far too long. I felt his heart racing – matching mine, in perfect sync.Dean’s hands gripped my waist tighter, as if to make sure I was real. That this wasn’t some dream slipping away. His lips moved over mine, hot and soft, filled with the past, with longing. It wasn’t rushed. It was like coming home.

I felt his warmth, his breath, his slight trembling under my touch. His right hand slipped under my shirt, fingertips brushing along my waist, careful – like he was rediscovering me. Or remembering how I’d felt under his hands.

He murmured something into the kiss – a low, hoarse “Damn, I missed you…” that was more than just words. It was a confession. I pressed my forehead against his, held him close, breathed him in, let him feel I was still here. That I’d never really left. My heart pounded wildly in my chest. It wasn’t doubt – it was hope. So fragile I barely dared to hold onto it.

Dean kissed me again, deeper this time. His hands trembled slightly, but he held me like there was something in me he couldn’t afford to lose. I felt his thumb trace over my ribs, slowly – like a promise written on skin. Then he paused. His body tensed under me, his breath caught for a second. I opened my eyes, looked into his – and saw that flicker of amused realization that crossed his face. “Shit”, he muttered, glancing around as if only now realizing where we were. The bunker kitchen’s neon light, the soft ticking of the wall clock, the half-empty whiskey bottle on the table.“Sam could walk in any second. Probably to make himself some vegan sandwich or brew chamomile tea…”

I laughed softly, breathing against his neck. “Then hurry up.”He shot me a look – sharp, full of heat, and that mischievous glint back in his eyes.

And then he stood. Just like that. His arms wrapped around me, lifting me effortlessly, like I was just another part of him finally returning to where it belonged. I wrapped my arms around his neck, let him carry me, my lips brushing along his throat, his cheek, the edge of his jaw. His hands held me securely – like they knew exactly where I was meant to be.

The door to his room was close. Too close. Not because I didn’t want him – God, I did.But because this moment was so precious, I wanted to make it last longer. Still, Dean was resolute. His eyes fixed ahead, his steps steady, his grip around me sure.

Once inside his room, he kicked the door shut with his heel. The room was dimly lit – only the small desk lamp cast a warm glow over the rumpled bed, the old leather chair, and the half-full glass of water on the nightstand. Dean slowly set me down on the edge of the bed. And for a moment, nothing happened. Just silence. Our eyes locked. His hand still resting on my cheek. My thumb tracing the collar of his shirt.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly. It wasn’t doubt – it was respect. I nodded. “As sure as I was the first time I looked into your eyes and knew I was already lost.”

Dean closed his eyes for a second, breathing in deeply. And when he opened them again, there was nothing but warmth. Desire. He gently pulled me closer, easing me back onto the mattress. So gently, as if I were made of something fragile – though he already knew every part of me. Then he leaned over me, bracing himself with both arms on either side of my head. The flannel of his shirt scratched lightly against my skin, his warm right hand resting heavy on my hip, while the other kept him steady.

His gaze stayed close to mine – deep green, clear, filled with unspoken words that were already written in his eyes. I could see that flicker of hesitation, that last sliver of restraint Dean always carried when it came to closeness. Real closeness. But under my gaze, it melted.

“I forgot what this feels like,” I whispered, pressing my forehead to his, my breath brushing his skin. “How you feel. How we feel.” “I didn’t,” he replied, his voice rough, almost broken. "I tried to bury it. But forget? Not a chance.”

Our kisses deepened, slowed. His lips trailed along my cheek, down my jaw, to my neck – and I lost myself in the feel of his skin on mine, the scent of leather, whiskey, and something that was just Dean. There was no rush, no urgency – just a slow, honest rediscovery between two people who’d always known each other, yet were still learning again.

My hands slid along his back, pulling him closer, wordlessly needing him. I felt his heartbeat pounding against my chest, loud and steady, like it was answering mine.

Dean gently lifted my shirt, his touch reverent, as though he were honoring every inch of skin he uncovered. His hands were firm and tender all at once, as if he were memorizing every breath, every reaction.

I let myself sink into it—all the shivers, every gasp of breath, every glance he gave me like a worshipper at a shrine. Dean wasn’t someone who opened up easily—but here, now, he was doing it with every movement, every kiss, every way he held me.

“I don’t want to lose you again,” I murmured against his shoulder.He lifted my face with two fingers, eyes locked on mine – serious, in a way that carried weight. “Then stay.”

I didn’t answer with words. Instead, I began slipping his open shirt down from his shoulders, over his arms, until it caught at his wrists. He let me help him out of it, then tossed it aside without care. My hands slid under his black T-shirt from behind, pushing it up and over his back and head.

Dean’s breath quickened as I kissed along his skin, from his neck to his chest. Over and over, he whispered my name, barely audible, while his hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer. When he kissed me again – deeper, more hungry – the world around us disappeared.

“Tell me if I’m going too fast.” His voice was nothing but a breath laced with need.Dazed, I shook my head. “You’re just right.”

What followed wasn’t haste – it was surrender. Dean explored me with lips, hands, and breath. Every touch intentional, every kiss drawn out like a promise. He took his time, relearning me, worshiping me, letting me feel how much he’d missed this – missed me.

He left a wet trail of kisses over my half-naked upper body, down to the waistband of my jeans. Without breaking our eye contact, he unbuttoned them, sliding the fabric – along with my panties – down my hips and legs until both pieces landed beside his shirt on the floor.

Without hesitation, he kissed my inner thigh, pressing my legs further apart. My breath came shallow, in gasps over my lips as I felt his mouth at my most intimate place. When his tongue finally touched me there – exactly where I wanted it most – a shiver ran through my entire body. I closed my eyes, grasping at the sheets - his movements were almost painfully tender. It felt like he was trying to read every one of my reactions.

Dean tasted me, slowly driving me closer and closer to the edge with every flick of his tongue – only to pull me back after a dizzying climax. I gasped for air, brushing sweaty strands of hair from my forehead. My head felt wrapped in cotton – still too overwhelmed by all the sensations from the last few minutes – so I only vaguely noticed Dean moving away from me, sliding off the bed. In a flash, he stripped off his jeans and boxers.

His manhood claimed my full attention as he revealed it. Dean caught my gaze and a confident grin spread across his lips. “So, did you miss it?” I closed my eyes briefly, caught off guard, then shook my head with an amused smile. “Come here now, before I change my mind,” I teased him with mock sternness but couldn’t keep the grin off my face. Dean obeyed. Of course he did.

He slipped a condom over his shaft before crawling between my open legs. With an animalistic growl, he fully leaned over me again, gently biting the sensitive skin of my neck, making me giggle. His gaze caught mine. Green met brown. And in that moment, I knew I never wanted to look into another pair of eyes again. In them reflected a mix of fire and prayer at once.

And then, without letting another second pass, he entered me. Deep. Slow. A trembling sound escaped him. I moaned his name as he pressed himself against me, finding his rhythm. I wrapped my legs around his hips, wanting him deeper, closer. Dean moved in a steady pace, demanding but always full of feeling. Our bodies fit perfectly together. “You’re driving me crazy,” he murmured against my lips, and I felt his pelvis harden against mine.

But then he suddenly stopped, pulled out of me – only to roll onto his back and pull me with him. I understood immediately, straddled him, and slowly took him inside me again. This time I set the pace. I moved over him, riding him slowly, in circles, while his hands held my hips – sometimes gently, sometimes firmer, as if to hold on to me.

As if on its own, my hand reached behind my back and unclasped my bra, which I then slid off over my torso and tossed beside the bed. In that moment, I felt beautiful. Wanted. Not just desired – but held, seen. His eyes never left me.

“You’re everything,” he whispered hoarsely. I could only nod; my chest rose, my movements grew faster, more intense. The sounds escaping my throat sounded strange to my ears. Yet they expressed what Dean made me feel. He sat up, wrapped me in his arms, and kissed me while I still felt him inside me – deep, pounding, every movement perfectly rehearsed.

When I came, it was a quiet, trembling eruption. My body shook in his arms, my head fell onto his shoulder. Dean held me, kissed my head softly, whispered something I didn’t quite understand.But he wasn’t done. He slowly pushed me away, laid me down on my stomach on the bed, positioned himself behind me, pulled me closer by my hips, and lifted my ass up. I felt his torso against my back as he entered me again. His hands clasped mine, our fingers intertwined, and as he moved in me again – hard, deep – it felt like I was going to shatter again. I moaned, bit my lip, lost myself completely. It was wild but not rough. It was hot. It was familiar.

Dean’s climax came suddenly – a guttural, deep moan as he pressed fully against me. I felt his body tense, tremble, then go completely still. He stayed like that for a moment. We both gasped for air, trying to return to reality. I felt his heartbeat at my back, my own deep in the pillows beneath my upper body.

Then he slowly pulled out of me, leaving a strange emptiness behind. Dean sank next to me, pulled me close. My head rested on his sweaty chest, his arm warm around me. His fingers stroked almost hypnotically over my shoulder, again and again, as if he needed to convince himself I was still really here.

The silence in the room was like cotton. Everything sounded muffled – my breath, his heartbeat, the soft wind blowing through the air vent above Dean’s room and gently rocking the lamp. It was peaceful, almost surreal. As if the world outside had ceased to exist. Neither of us spoke first. Maybe because we knew words would make everything fragile. Maybe because we tried to hold this moment as long as possible – like a last fleeting ray of sunlight before the day finally slipped into night.

“I missed you,” I said finally. Quietly. As if it were a secret. Dean didn’t answer immediately. He took a deep breath, as if he had to let what I said sink in first. Then I felt him nod slightly. “I know.” His voice was rough from silence. “I missed you too. More than I want to admit.”

I lifted my head, looked at him. His eyes were in semi-darkness, but I recognized the expression nonetheless. Something between pain and peace. His jaw tensed under my gaze. “Why did we break up?” My voice almost broke, barely audible. “Why really? Was it just the hunt? The age difference? Or... was I no longer important enough to you at some point?”

Dean frowned as if hit by an invisible blow. “God... no!” He straightened slightly, making me shift my half-on-him position. “You were... you are important to me. Maybe... too important. And that was exactly the problem.” “What do you mean?” He ran his free hand through his hair, then looked at the ceiling. “I always thought I’d die alone. That I deserve it. But with you…” He swallowed. “...for the first time, I felt like maybe I was someone who could be loved. And that scared me more than any monster we ever hunted.”

I felt tears gather in my eyes. Not because of pain. But because of truth. “I... I lov...” I stopped, just couldn’t get the word out. “I felt so much for you, Dean. I think I... still do.” A heavy moment passed. Then he pressed his forehead to mine, looked deep into my eyes. “Then we’re already two.”My lips trembled. “What do we do now?” Dean closed his eyes, pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Now we save the world. Or at least try.” I laughed softly, though I felt the opposite inside. “And after?” He looked at me, serious, honest, almost gentle. “After... we see if there’s still room for us. For more than just one last time.”

A tingling ran through my body. Hope. An almost forgotten feeling that felt like the first sip of coffee after a sleepless night – bitter, strong, but invigorating. I laid my hand on his cheek, looked at him long. “What if that was it?” “Then it was damn well the most beautiful thing I ever had in this life.”

We said nothing more. We just lay there, his forehead on mine, our fingers entwined. Two hunters, marked by too many battles, too many losses – but in this one moment together again.

Outside in the bunker halls, it was quiet. Sam had caught none of it, seemed to be sleeping deeply. Jack hadn’t been reachable for days; probably working on some master plan. Tomorrow would bring more fights – the fight against Chuck, against fate, against death itself.

But for this moment…

…there was only us.

And the promise that maybe it wasn’t the last time after all.

#jensen ackles #dean winchester #dean x reader #smut #slow burn #relationship #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #spnfandom #spn fanart #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester smut #jensen ackles smut #supernatural smut

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familyvideostevie · 2 days ago

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tlou season 2 episode 6 thoughts PART 2

this is in 2 parts bc tumblr hates me. part 1 here

this post is...the bad stuff. :)

spoilers for tlou hbo and tlou part ii below

EPISODE 6: THE PRICE

BAD -some folks call this a gee tar. my god I'm so sorry but this "southern accent" kills me like christ above -the more i think about joel making her the guitar instead of him finding it and giving it to her, the more it bothers me. yes, him making it is really nice. but in the game, he finds the guitar and fixes it up, but it already has the moth inlay on the fretboard. to me, the moth starts there. on something he finds and gives to her. and then she finds herself attached to it -- drawing it, getting it as a tattoo, etc. (i think there is some story about how they decided to have the tattoo and the guitar match later in the process but don't quote me there). in this way it's something joel brings into her life and she makes it her own but then it also is attached to him -- a symbol of death. poetic, right? but here, joel sees the moth in her drawings and then puts it on the guitar. it no longer has anything to do with him. it means death and he's worried about it. i just -- i don't like this. i think it undermines the entire symbol. -let's talk about the 17th birthday flashback. i hated every single second of this. every single second. i have imagined how we get from ellie living with joel to her living in the garage a million times. she suggests it, he doesn't know how to ask her to stay so he lets her go, etc. i did not imagine it as a punishment (this fits with the HBO version of ellie this season tbf but still). punishment for...joel being kind of homophobic???? like, okay, being a parent is hard or whatever, and she was smoking weed and getting a tattoo and fooling around, but. come ON. was that NECESSARY. and the way he doesn't apologize? i just. man, idk who this man is. the only thing i did like is how he will let her go into the garage if he fixes it up. i have written that myself in a fic, lol. but, christ! i hated all of this. how angry he is, how much distance is between them but about other things. -too many flashbacks in general??? why??? 15th birthday, 16th birthday, 17th birthday, 19th birthday, 19 and 9 months for the Night Before. the pacing of this episode was wack as fuck and frankly, after watching s2 of andor and seeing how they did a flashback heavy episode (210 if you're curious) successfully? its like, how did you make this so choppy! -ellie going on her first patrol at 19 does explain why she's a fucking idiot most of the time this season -eugene flashback...okay. i've written scenes like this -- what happens when someone is infected, what happens if they come back, how does the community handle it. the progression of infection being more rapid in the show makes this harder, obviously, but i just do not get what we are showing here. is this meant to remind us that joel is cruel? or that he has a capacity for mercy that is a little warped? (very look at the flowers coded iykwim). obviously this is meant to tie us back to salt lake and joel's choice and we're meant to question his choices and who he is doing them for. but he's following rules. his mistake is lying again to ellie. in the strings flashback (which is the closest one to this content-wise) he lies to her again but about the same thing. and he has the whole i know you wish things were different. i wish things were different. but they ain't. but here he is just lying again about more stuff. and frankly? i get why he lies to gail - he was laying it on a little thick, but. and then. GOD. ELLIE throwing a TANTRUM and making eugene's death ABOUT HERSELF. insane timing, insane use of i swore. also tommy being there -- is this meant to parallel the cold open? other people seeing what joel is capable of and calling him on it? just like. ugh ugh ugh ugh

-okay, deep breath. the porch scene. the promised porch scene. they had me in the first half, i can't lie. her reapproach, the way it starts, the coffee convo. and then. then it goes fucking off the rails. first of all, it felt like it was from joel's pov? which is a weird choice to me -- the framing and the focusing really put us with him emotionally rather than ellie. which i get, since the flashback starts in his pov. but this scene is about ellie. so the way they rewrote this -- they're combining the salt lake city flashback from the game where she cuts off their relationship two years ago and the porch scene in the game, where they finally come back together.

obviously that has to change since they've changed the timeline here. but instead we get joel crying out of guilt? for what? i know this joel is softer than game!joel but come on. all of his emotions and his dialogue in this scene are just so...manipulative parent? crying cause he's upset that he's hurt her, saying I'll pay the price because you're gonna turn away from me. and then all that shit about him loving her -- saying that he loves her in a way she can't understand. and making this about parents and kids -- and then quoting his dad???? i just don't get what this was doing.

i don't see how THIS ellie can possibly move from i don't need your fucking help to i was supposed to die to i want to try. to have the reveal of the hospital in the same conversation as her forgiveness -- or the hope of it. it's just such WEIRD PACING. and then for her to say the stuff she does the next morning about her and joel being her and joel, and all of that. it's such uneven emotional processing and while it retains the tragedy it's like. just not working for me.

So, overall, i see that a lot of the things i don't like do actually work in the context of the writing and characterization we've been given for the show. however i don't like either of those things most of the time, so! :) the immaturity, the explosive anger, joel's worry and helicopter parenting. i just -- i was so ready to be on board but like. why are critics saying this is one of the best episodes. it was like a speedrun of the most important pieces of context we get. so, yeah. man, fuck. I'm so mad i hated it so much. UGH.

#the last of us #the last of us spoilers #the last of us hbo #the last of us season 2 #the last of us season 2 spoilers #joel miller #ellie williams #tlou hbo thoughts

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jessicas-pi · 9 hours ago

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Hey, I did say that was all I had so far. I never said there wouldn't be more later 😂

EXCELLENT QUESTIONS it has taken me some days to ponder them out and finish typing a reply but here I am, with answers to exactly half of them so far---

First of all! You know what?? Yeah!!! I changed my mind! I'm not gonna be vague at all!!!!

Daughter isn't theirs!

And this fact, in itself, becomes a major plot point.

Because---okay, so the Daughter Hates The Jedi thing started out as just a way for her sass to show through, with no explanation, exactly. But now that I think about it, the fact that she looks like Ezra, but isn't his daughter, could easily explain it.

I think, in her childhood, Daughter thought the Jedi were kind of cool. She was grateful to them for saving her adoptive mother. She even defended them when other kids she knew talked trasha bout them. But that changed drastically when she got older.

Sabine's been elected Countess of Mandalore, right? She had rivals in the election, obviously! Luke and Mara couldn't be the first people to put together the pieces. Let's say one of her rivals glimpsed her and Ezra together once, years ago. If they remembered that, and noticed Daughter's resemblance, it would be easy to spread a rumor that her adopted daughter wasn't so adopted after all, in order to discredit her.

Of course, Daughter knows she's adopted. She even has a holopic of her birth parents; she clearly takes after both of them in terms of looks. The resemblance to Ezra is as inexplicable as it is uncanny. But she still hears the rumors. At the Sundari Academy, perhaps, one of her fellow students had a relative in the election---one who lost to Sabine. If they heard the rumors---and they saw that it bothered Daughter (ok we gotta give her a name, I just keep thinking of the Daughter when I type it lol), they'd totally harass her with it.

Daughter is stuck with an obnoxious rich kid from an influential family and their following of cliquey sycophants constantly taunting her with the rumors, saying it was no wonder you always stood up for the Jedi, calling Sabine all kinds of nasty names and then mockingly whispering to each other, loud enough for Daughter to hear: "Ooh, watch out, or she'll use her daddy's jetii magic on you!"

Slowly, Daughter's gratitude to the Jedi who saved her mother turns to something else. Something like a grudge.

It's shortly after then that Ezra and Luke go to Mandalore. Daughter is bracing herself to meet him, trying to do the nice thing and be polite. But besides her, she hears her Auntie Mara gasp, and Daughter can feel her eyes going back and forth, between Daughter and Ezra, and she knows what she's thinking.

All of Daughter's good intentions fly out the window.

"Hi," Ezra says to her. "Nice to meet you."

She ignores his offered handshake.

"I don't like Jedi," she says flatly.

The evening goes downhill from there.

Before the first course of dinner is even served, Daughter has been so abominably rude that Sabine ends up sending her to her room.

Daughter goes to her room---and climbs out the window. She takes a nice brisk walk through Sundari, and makes a comm call to her best friend: "Hey, Addie? Can I come over for dinner at your house?"

Her pal Addie (short for Adonai, but for the love of the Manda, do not call him that) tells her yes, absolutely! She shows up at his house, storms into his room, and immediately bursts out on a rant about everything going on. Addie is one of the few people she's confided in, and he's sympathetic--though he's never been as fond of our favorite Force-wielders as she once was.

"Wow. That sucks," he commiserates.

"I know! Why does everyone get ideas like that?!"

"Yeah, it's stupid," he says, rolling his eyes. "Who ever heard of such a thing as a Jedi-Mandalorian lovechild, anyway?"

(It is at that point that his father, Korkie Kryze, calls them both down for dinner.)

OK OK so yeah, we all know how much opportunity for hilarity there is with an Obitine-style year-on-the-run No Order 66 AU for Sabezra. But have you considered the potential for an Obitine-style No Order 66 AU for Sabezra where the year-on-the-run was fifteen years ago and Ezra is now sent on a diplomatic mission to Mandalore, complete with a Skywalker tagalong of his own?

Hear me out on this.

The Skywalker, of course, is Luke. Luke and Ezra have been friends for ages. Luke was there for Ezra's phase of being tragically sad about missing Sabine. He knows they've got history. And, like his father before him, Luke has concluded that the real goal of the mission is actually to get his old buddy back together with his mandalorian gf.

Ezra is very aware of this. He just knows that Luke going along was Anakin's idea. (It's a miracle the guy's still on the Council. He's spent three decades doing nothing but incite all kinds of shenanigans. This is only the latest incident in a long list of mischief.)

Regardless, this is going to be awkward.

So, Ezra is mentally preparing himself for all kinds of potentialities as to how this reunion could go. As it turns out, it goes unexpectedly well—Luke's winking and eyebrow wiggles aside, that is.

And despite the initial awkwardness, Ezra decides it's nice to see Sabine again. She's changed; of course she has. She's a decade and a half older. She's inherited leadership of her clan, adopted a kid, and even recently been elected as the current ruler of Mandalore. But underneath it all, she's the same old Sabine, who told him about the constellations of the Mandalore sky and pestered him until he showed her the basics of lightsaber combat.

Sabine is equally happy to see Ezra again. He's changed; of course he has. He's been knighted and he has a different lightsaber—and also a beard, which is kinda hot but whatever—and he carries himself with a confidence he seemed to lack as a Padawan. But underneath it all, he's the same old Ezra, and all day, she fights the urge to smile at him in a way that nobody could misunderstand.

The Jedi are invited to a formal dinner that night, where Sabine introduces them to her adopted daughter and heir, a 14-year-old girl with an excess of attitude. She's not fond of Jedi. She tells Ezra so, to his face.

She's very opinionated.

Opinionated and full of attitude and sassy and fourteen and dark-haired and blue-eyed and Luke has just come up with a very interesting theory—

#I was gonna answer if they get together or not but then I decided that this was objectively the funniest way to end my ramble #sorry! promise i'll talk more on that later!#thank you for enabling my nonsense selene <3 #sabezra #the sabezra reunion au

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tgft212 · 1 day ago

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Wanna Marry This Old Ass?

@agathaallalongweek

Day 2: Fake dating/marriage

Fandom: Agatha All Along (TV)

Relationships: Agatha Harkness & Rio Vidal, Agatha Harkness & Rio Vidal & Nicholas Scratch (Marvel) & Adria Vidal (OC), Agatha Harkness/Rio Vidal

Characters: Agatha Harkness, Rio Vidal, Nicholas Scratch (Marvel), Adria Vidal (OC)

Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Useless Lesbians, Fake Marriage, Their children ship them, AAA Week | Agatha All Along Week, Rio Vidal Loves Agatha Harkness, Agatha Harkness Loves Rio Vidal

Summary:

"We need to get married."

"Come again?" Agatha raised her eyes from whatever had lost her interest in her book. Messy hair, half up in an untidy bun and eyebrows well on their way into said hair.

"We need to get married."

"Come again?" Agatha raised her eyes from whatever had lost her interest in her book. Messy hair, half up in an untidy bun and eyebrows well on their way into said hair.

"They're tearing the building down in a few months, and people, translation men, prefer renting to 'one family', which, apparently, we aren't without that peace of paper, I've started looking into where we could move, cause you know, we'll have to." Rio willingly succumbed to gravity and fell on the sofa, having just put Nicky and Adri to bed, legs immediately flying over its back and back twisting in such a way that her head landed right by Agatha's thighs.

"I knew that we were getting looks, we always are, but still," Agatha says. Then she gets a look in her eye, a dangerous one. Rio likes it; most people do not.

"You know, there's still the part of my inheritance. The one that says I get access to it, once I get married." Agatha said not as nonchalantly as she was pretending to, but Rio actually got up into a mostly normal sitting position in under a second.

"What?" Her head was dizzy. Since when did Agatha have an inheritance?

"I found out like, yesterday. Apparently, grandparents put it in, the sperm donor's parents. The only way we know is because they somehow managed to go over the birther's head, wish I knew how to do that earlier. If I get married, I get everything of theirs and money that was intended for the sperm donor, but apparently he also kicked the bucket, a few years back, actually. It would have been split evenly between surviving grandkids, but I'm the only one alive and therefore eligible. There would have been one other, but he died two years ago. Maybe one other, I wasn't paying much attention at that point." She tried to sound unbothered, but Rio saw the twitching muscle in her cheek and decided to pretend to eat the bait.

"Your mysterious meeting yesterday." She wasn't asking. There was no other time Agatha could have had such a meeting. Not in the past eight years. A side effect of living in the same room was a certain lack of privacy.

"Yep", she popped the p and continued staring at Rio's face.

"Wait, how'd you even find out? I don't suppose birther wanted you to know, and you said that they had to go over her head." Rio raised her eyebrows, reaching for the water on the coffee table.

"Birther finally kicked the bucket." Agatha's smile could not be wider, and it should have been concerning. It wasn't.

"Wait, for real?" Rio's voice was light, lighter than she'd thought it could be. Oh, if Evanora were dead, they would have a family celebration, because that deserved every single party in the world.

"There is one thing I don't joke about, it's her." She knew that, obviously. But this had been a wish for so long it didn't feel real.

"Well congratu-fucking-lations." They raised the water glasses from the table in a sign of cheer.

"We can celebrate later, now I need you to focus." Agatha jumped in before Rio's brain could go somewhere and start planning a celebration for such an occasion, and be a nuisance for the entire evening.

"Right, we need to get married for two reasons now." She didn't like how unsure that sounded.

"Think Rio, it will set us up for life." Agatha reached out and held one of her hands in both hers.

"Us?" Duh, married means two consenting adults. She did ask you to marry her, too, idiot. Stupid self-esteem issues.

"You, me, the kids. Sperm donors' parents weren't loaded rich, but they had a house in a good town and enough money to change our entire lives. We can pay off the remaining debts and start anew." College and medical. Not that they would ever say the second part out loud, not until all the lights were off and they drank a bit of alcohol.

"So, you.." she doesn't dare finish that sentence.

"Want you and Adri to come along? Duh, it's the four of us against the world, now literally." Agatha looked at her like it was the surest thing in the world.

"Right" Rio's brain short circuited, damn issues and childhood trauma.

"Rio, I'll say this only once, because we both know that unless it's the kids, I'm allergic to feelings. I'd be happy with Nicky, goddess knows I would. But, life without you, without Adri, would not be worth the same." Cue Rio's lesbian brain just, kicking the bucket, momentarily.

"Right", she doesn't know what else she could say. Agatha went right in there and put a bandage on her metaphorical bleeding heart. Nope, there will be time for this later, when everyone has gone to sleep.

"Ditto, by the way. If we're doing this, we need to work out the logistics fast, and also, tell the kids." Rio refused the useless lesbian to take over. Time to work, brain.

"Obviously, they're big enough to know about, well, technically the scheme," Agatha smirked in the way she did whenever she had a master plan slowly forming in her brain.

"Not all of it." Rio knew she didn't have to remind Agatha of that, but it was important for her to keep the communication clear.

"Please, they'll never be old enough to know all of it, but they can know most of this ploy," she knew, Rio saw it in her eyes. But this was Agatha, emotional spoons were reserved for the kids, and then maybe after some wine and something that reminded her of whatever asshole helped mess up her life.

"They like being in on something, goddess knows we won't be bored with the two of them once they become teenagers."

"Nope, we do not think like that." Agatha got up and started to quietly pace, she needed to move to get some of the adrenaline induced energy out, "And that they hate the city, Westview will do them good."

"That's the town?" obvously idiot, but it was getting late and she was fucking tired.

"Yeah, idilic, nice big houses, good schools and after-school programmes, not too far from NYC, should something go very wrong. And there is a community centre. And the town isn't more religious than your average American, so we should be okay enough."

"So New Jersey?"

"Yep."

"Okay. Worst case scenario we sell the house and find somewhere without dicks." Identical smirks settled on their faces as now Agatha fell back onto the sofa.

"Okay", Agatha sighs with relief. She wasn't too worried about Rio not agreeing, but when it comes to people, she never is certain, not even with Rio. It's the last part she hates the most.

"Let's get scheming", Agatha cracks her knuckles, and Rio, after she stretches and twists her back in inhuman ways to get some of the knots out gets up and heads towards the kitchen.

"I'll make us tea, there's a lot to cover."

They spend the rest of the night going over everything and planning. The kids don't remember living apart; they never really have.

Rio's parents left her with a kid sister to raise, abusive assholes who died months after she was born and Rio took her in without a second thought. Right when she and Agatha moved in together and Agatha had Nicky. Her last attempt at a boyfriend left seconds after he found out about the pregnancy, and she had just managed to hunt him down to sign away all of his parental rights.

So it was them, the kids, against everyone else, through thick and thin. Adri and Nicky got along wonderfully, siblings in every sense of the word. Protective of the other in ways parents can only dream of. Rio is mami, Agatha is mama and while they tried explaining and laying out that technically they should call their non-biological parent by name, it never stuck, since they started talking. Adri never bothered asking for more, never asked for her biological parents after Rio told her that they died when she was a few months old, and that they weren't the best people to be around. The second part was only when she asked why Rio didn't look too sad about it, she didn't have it in her to lie and have Adri idolise people who would have probably tried to break her.

Neither kid knew the full extent of what actually happened to their moms, and Rio and Agatha vowed to never let them find out everything about their lives, ever. Not when they were old and dying, not when the kids grew to be eighteen. Never.

"Do you think we can manage to do this before the summer ends? They have two weeks left of school, and then we can move once everything is settled." Rio was now lying on the floor, legs propped up on the sofa.

"I may have told the lawyer that due to the lack of family and friends, we were planning to get married in three weeks, a small wedding at the courthouse. He said that once the confirmation came through, about a week later, we should be able to move." Agatha was lying on her front, facing Rio on the floor. Their teas were long gone.

"You counted on me saying yes?" Rio shouldn't be surprised, this is Agatha after all.

"Technically, you asked first." There was a shit eating grin on her face.

"Yeah, well," Rio got up without another word and went to their room, fuck you city prices, and came back with a small purple box.

"What? How do you even?" Agatha wanted to laugh, but the way her heart clenched had her shocked, speechless, unable to properly display her usually loud opinion.

"Figured I should get you a ring in case you said yes," Rio shrugged and sat back down in her spot, opposite Agatha, who had straightened her spine into a sitting position, and opened the box. There was a ring, a simple, nice ring with four different stones set in a row. Nothing overly extravagant, but intimate.

"It's us and the kids. I was going to get all of us some for Christmas this year, but figured this was a good way to utilise it." Rio has had it for longer, not that she would ever admit it. She was waiting for when the kids were older to lessen the risk of them losing it.

Agatha did not have tears falling from her eyes, she did not. For all her and Rio always said that they were best friends and nothing more, it was moments like this that kept her patient. Because while this was yet another mess their makeshift family has gotten into, it's always felt like a lot more. Like everything. And Agatha has managed to keep her cool the entire time, but then Rio would do something like this and she would be left wondering exactly 'what the fuck were they'.

"Oh my, Rio", it sounded a lot more broken than she wanted it to.

"So what do you say, want to marry this old ass?" Rio joked, still scared shitless mind you, and took the ring out of the box, wordlessly asking for Agatha's hand. Hand that was freely given.

They kept eye contact, and she could see Rio's searching gaze, looking for any signs of uncertainty, fear, 'no', anything that would tell her to immediately stop. But she counldn't find anything, because there wasn't anything to find.

So she slipped the ring on. Agatha was still staring in awe. It was beautiful and clearly made to fit, because it did, like a glove. She wore rings all over her fingers all the time, so they could easily get lost, unless you knew where to look for it.

"I'm glad it fits." There is undeniable smile to be heard in Rio's voice. Agatha wouldn't know; she couldn't stop staring at the ring. Her ring.

"Like it was made for me", it was, a stupid comment to let out of your mouth Agatha.

"I mean, it was. I have Adri and Nicky's tucked away. Theirs are on necklaces, I wasn't sure I trusted them to both wear a ring and also not loose it."

"What about yours?" she laid her head on Rio's shoulder, and the other woman immediately started playing with her long hair.

"Not done yet, or more like, left it to be the last, and it'll be at least a month before I can buy it."

"What?"

"Well, it's the actual stones, the band is more expensive, so it holds for a long time. And there is an engraving on the inside, too."

Agatha takes hers off and looks inside.

Our Love is Unconditional and a symbol of a book.

Agatha didn't respond, not immediately, just, rested her head on Rio's shoulder and tried her damn hardest not to cry her heart out.

"I never wanted them to wonder, I know that we've done our best so that they never do, and talked about it all at length, both between us and with them, but figured a reminder wouldn't hurt, especially considering our lack of childhoods." she ran her fingers through the part of Agatha's hair that wasn't still in the bun. "And everybody has a different symbol, of course."

"I want to make a joke, but this is too sweet to be made fun of, maybe later." After a small pause, she adds: "fiancée."

Rio chuckles, "Yeah, I was pretty sure you'd end up saying something like this. Want me to take your hair down?" Agatha nods, and so Rio goes through with the offer. She takes the down, carefully, from the half bun Agatha produced after she came home from work, and starts running fingers through her hair, gently detangling along the way.

They stayed like that for a few more minutes, until they heard the kids walking around, and glanced at the clock to look at the time, after midnight, that was not good. Technically, it was the weekend, but Nicky and Adri were a bit too young to be still up. The financièes exchanged a glance and without any other words get up and headed towards the kids' room.

It's big, the biggest room in the flat. Each little one has a bunkbed, table underneath it and space that was theirs to decorate, as much as renting allowed (and some more because their ability to express themselves was important to their moms).

Both eight-year-olds were out of their beds, their bestest plushie in hand, clearly getting ready to go and search for them.

"What are you two.."

"Adri had a nightmare"

"Nicky had a nightmare"

The kids started talking over each other. Agatha and Rio didn't need to share a look or ask to know that one got up, started eavesdropping and then woke the other up to be complicit in getting information.

"Can we sleep with you?" they asked in sync, puppy eyes on, heads slightly tilted down.

There was no question to be asked. Agatha and Rio, without sharing a look, each reached out with their arms and bent down, waiting for an eight-year-old to fill the space.

Usually, Nicky would run for Agatha and Andri for Rio, at least initially, before something like this turned into a cuddle pile. But the kids ran into their arms, head first, reaching for both adults.

Only then did Agatha and Rio share a look, and each scooped up the kid closer to them. Rio took Nicky on her back, and Agatha held Adri on her hip.

They were both in enough of a PJ clothes that they didn't bother thinking about changing.

In the master bedroom, which was barely a bed and a shared closet, they let the kids down on the bed and were immediately pulled down by them.

Their eight-year-olds, aren't usually that clingy. They like touch, and will just come and cuddle up during whatever time of day.

"Are we leaving?" Adri turned to face Rio, moving closer to her mami.

"Why do you ask, mi amor?"

"Because we heard you, you and mama talked about leaving and getting married..." Adri clearly wasn't a fan of the idea of her and Rio leaving their two favourite people behind.

"No, no. Well, we wanted to tell you in the morning, but Agatha and I will be getting married to each other. And we will be moving, but all of us together." Because their kids deserve to have their input heard, even if they do have to move somewhere else, either way, even if they were fairly sure there wouldn't be an issue with it.

"We wanted to talk to you rascals in the morning, to properly explain everything, but I guess tonight is as good a night as any" she waits for Rio's nod before she lights the lamps up and sits against the headboard with the other three following her cues. Rio copying her position and Adri climbing into her lap while Nicky climbed into Agatha's.

"Agatha found out that her sperm donor's parents left her some inheritance, but only if she gets married."

"And because everyone already mistakes us for a couple, you two treat each other like siblings anyway, we thought it best if we got married. There are a lot of benefits to this, adult ones neither of you needs to worry about."

The kids only object to one thing in the entire sentence.

"But we are siblings!" they yelp out in a chorus, and then point at each other from their sitting places in the claimed adult's laps.

"We know loves, but not to everyone else. Now you will be." Rio strokes Adri's back as she feels that the girl is about to jump off her lap.

"Does that mean that you and mama will finally start kissing?" Nicky looks up at Rio from Agatha's lap, and she is oh so glad for the dark and shadows and only a small illuminating light on.

"We're still just friends, mijo, that doesn't change. But you can tell people that we do." She smiles at him, trying very hard to project all of her feelings about the entire situation.

And the kids, to their utter surprise, cheer and then high five. Because of course they do.

"And what about the moving?"

"Well, my biological grandparents had a house in a town, and once we get married and the lawyers review everything, we can move there."

"Out of the city?" Once again, they ask in unison.

"Yes."

The kids, despite it being about half past midnight, get out of their laps and start jumping on the bed in excitement, holding hands and jumping in a circle. "We're getting out, we're getting out!" They chant over and over again.

Agatha and Rio exchange looks. They really won't be getting much sleep next night. There is too much that still needs to be discussed, things they will not have the time to talk about during the day with two very active eight-year-olds on their hands.

"Okay, okay, you two need to sleep. And we will talk more tomorrow, after breakfast." Rio raises her eyebrows at them, a universal sign of 'listen or the consequences will not be to your liking'.

They visibly don't want to, but the yawns betray them and soon their little bodies give in to the lull of sleep and dreams, and the safety of their moms. They either hold onto their plushie, curled up into their adult. Safe, protected.

Rio and Agatha keep a small light on and stroke the children's hair. They whisper, theorising what and why the kids said while actively soothing them, not to disturb their sleep. They do end up turning the light off soon enough, not wanting to face two very active eight-year-olds exhausted, especially when there have been no previous plans for the weekend.

In the morning, when they wake up, Rio is spooning Agatha, and the kids are nowhere to be seen.

Author's note:

The author doesn't know much about either rental prices in the US (except from the things I've seen online) nor the family law nor the prices of rings, and as I am unfortunately in the middle of my exams, this will have to do for now..

This whole chapter was a writing experiment, the style is new to me and absolutely goes against my writing instincts, but oh well, challenging myself and whatnot.

This is the first chapter to something I would like to continue once school is over for me, but who knows what'll happen then.

(Final note: Adria is named after Adria Arjona, because I haven't been able to stop thinking about her performance in Andor.)

#aaa week #agatha all along week #agatha harkness #rio vidal #useless lesbian #agatha all along #fake marriage AU #nicholas scratch #adria vidal

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marinamar4 · 4 months ago

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I remember seeing a movie where a stolen baby remembered the voice of her biological mother singing to her in the womb. There is another fic where Leia, in the Obi-Wan series, has spent years having nightmares about what happened on Mustafar.

Well, and it occurred to me… A fic where both Luke and Leia "remember" what happened/they felt in Padmé's womb? Babies in the womb are able to recognize their mother's voice, feel when she laughs and her caresses. And if they are also sensitive to the force and can recognize presences or "auras" (force signatures, which is something so fanon that it has become canon), both Luke and Leia would remember not only their mother, but also what she told them about their father (because she surely talked to them about Anakin), their conversations (if it is a boy or a girl, names…) Mustafar, they would remember being in Obi-Wan's arms as newborns.

So this could go two or three ways, or even two or three variations of the same fic:

The first, starting from the beginning of Star Wars, episode 4, when Luke goes to rescue Leia, they have a moment of saying: "hey, I know you," which could mean that they recognize that they are twins, but it wouldn't change too much on a grand scale from the original trilogy, except that they would probably tell Han, and Luke and Leia would support each other after Bespin. It could also be that they found out earlier, about Anakin and Vader.

The second, which excites me the most, is like this Leia fic I just told you about. Imagine. Obi-Wan rescues Leia and the first thing the girl says to him is: "did you know my parents and were you there when my other half and I were born?" To which Ben understands why Luke was always looking for him, to the despair of his uncles.

But come on, if young Luke and Leia knew they had "another half" out there (I doubt they would have thought of the word "twins" from the start) they wouldn't stop until they found each other. And that's not to mention that they would have lived knowing SOMETHING about Anakin's fall.

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lemonduckisnowawake · 29 days ago

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Dragon!Angelique AU word dump that I wrote on a whim just to see how many words I could write in 20 minutes on my phone (it was 569. 1327 total in about 40 to 50 minutes total). So don't expect anything shiny.

They were all supposed to be dead.

What they didn't know was that when the goblins ransacked the little village of Joie in Loire, the creatures had been drawn to a lurking power.

"He was a soldier," Angelique had told Clovicus about her father, nothing but an old grief tugging at her heart.

She hadn't said anything about her mother.

But it wasn't like it was a secret, anyway.

There wasn't much to hide when you found a child, eyes blazing a cold and unnatural silver, something hard and scaly and glowing on the sides of her face, teeth bared and sharper than a child's teeth should be.

Mama was supposed to be invincible.

But in a world where an ogre can be felled by nothing more than a youth and her cat, where a man-turned-beast can be tamed by a snarky ranger, where a demonic mirror can be contained by a mortal with her human power and love - even goblins can fell an ancient monster.

"You should practice using that power..."

And what right do you have to say that? Angelique had thought, eyeing the irritating teenager training under Clovicus. He didn't understand the pain that the lurking beast inside her had caused. He didn't understand that without it, she might have a family, not be someone taken out of pity by a man who didn't even like children.

And yet, six years later after being discovered, when Evariste had invited her to stay in his home as she tried to figure out what she wanted to do with her life, she'd accepted. When the Council protested, he simply had bared his very human teeth and claimed he'd teach her magic.

(A mage?, they'd whispered, voices horrified. Why would Lord Enchanter Evariste teach a monster to be a mage??)

Just to spite them, Angelique - planning to stay quiet, subdued, discover a way to run - decided to learn.

Even if Evariste kept insisting she use her horrible, heinous power, even if he kept insisting that it was beautiful, she stayed and thrived.

Of course, she refused his asinine insistence for her to train that other side of her.

The memory of her mother, in the process of transforming, cut down by one of those creatures, still burned in her mind. The whispers surrounding her, the people who barged into Clovicus' home to see her, make sure she was controlled, that she wasn't dangerous. And even now, people sent by the Council harassed Evariste - all these memories kept her tranquilized.

"Is your little beast tamed?" the visitors wouldn't say, but imply with all their words.

Evariste would shield her, and Angelique longed to sink her teeth into these people, show them what an untamed, wild, and free beast really looked like. But for Clovicus and now for Evariste, who was protecting her on some strange basis of loyalty from growing up together, she'd stay tame.

And now...he was gone.

He'd been gone for nearly six years, taken from under her nose, right in his own home.

Shielding her.

Just like her parents.

Everyone was always left or taken, and maybe now Angelique understood those stories where the dragons kidnapped royals or young people or entire villages. Creatures like her must have been fated by the gods or some deity to forever be alone, so they took and hoarded and kept whenever the opportunity rose. Because it would be taken anyway, in the end.

You have all the power to take back what is yours, young one, the stars had told her once.

They had called themselves Pegasus, a swirl of stars knit together into a constellation she could ride.

We had an agreement with your human mage, Pegasus told her. But the stars will only bow to those who can reach them.

So Angelique did not have to unfold her own wings, transform into something that would make children quake in terror. Instead, she became the beautiful enchantress who rode the stars, in search of a friend who had taught her the beauty of human magic and abyss-deep love. She was the one to tame men turned into beasts, who transformed a destitute duchess into a queen, who fostered a mage of creation, who destroyed only to protect and save.

That was how it was supposed to be.

Angelique, at 18 and about to leave the world behind before Evariste invited her into hers, would have been happy to withdraw into the shadows and fade as another bad memory of the world. But then she'd risen to become a hero, to become someone who was great enough that she didn't need to unleash the beast shaking in the cage of her soul.

"You can't hide it forever. You can't hide from it forever," Emerys warned her once, something gleaming - something that looked like hope and joy - in his eyes.

And now, he repeated the words to her again, cradling the form of his wounded human lover. It made Angelique's heart squeeze painfully. An elf of the forest from a land far away and a mortal woman who accepted who he was, loved it even.

"Please, Angelique?" Emerys begged her, himself bloodied and bruised.

So how had it come to this?

It had started with her father, loving Angelique for who she was, calling her and Mama his "little fire stars." And then it was Clovicus (Angelique now knew how unfair she'd been to the man, who may have not liked children all that much but had loved her and Evariste), giving her a home when the Council had called for her to be killed. And then...Evariste, who had given her a home and an alternate solution to survival in his beautiful, human magic. Then Emerys and Alastryn, Roland and Gabrielle, Elle (who had discovered it because of course the former spy would), and now....

"It always comes to this," Angelique muttered to herself, not even aware that she was speaking.

Something hot - and she didn't know if it was rage or love - burned in her chest. The fire of it all spread from her core into her veins, forcibly squeezing through her muscle onto the organ of her skin, hardening it.

"No matter how much I give, I always have to give more," she said, almost a sob and yet so full of resigned desperation. "You had all my humanity. And this, finally, is the rest of me."

Because she would have burned long ago if it could have bought her parents to life. Or if it would have saved Evariste.

Trained to hide it all her life and told by those she loved to set it free.

Fine. Here I am.

And the fire burst out in full, encasing her in a cocoon of silver flames. She felt herself rise with the fire, the unsteady floating stabilizing when scaly wings were wrenched out, the flying coming to her instinctually.

It wasn't a full transformation, no. She wouldn't give them that.

But the scales were on her face again, as they had been long ago when they'd found her. Her back had grown wings as large as the wonder from the soldiers below, and they propelled her as she raided the sky and became the wind of this windless day. There was no fire out of her mouth - her humanoid body was not made to contain it - but it didn't matter.

An ancient, deep, powerful magic danced in her blood, merging with her human spells and setting the horde of the evil beasts alight. In seconds, the encroaching armies became ash and dust, scattered in the winds of her flight path.

Inside of Angelique, there was a contended rumble, as if from a creature long-chained set free.

Welcome home, it whispered, startling her.

Home?

As she landed back to where Emerys and Quinn, both gazing at her with...with awe, of all things, staying put as Angelique willed the searing burn of her magic into a healing warmth to flow over them - as she looked into their eyes and smiles, something within her shattered and mended and sang.

It sounded like the voice of her mother, opening her arms wide to an Angelique shrieking in delight as her father tossed her up and down.

"Welcome home."

#lemon duck tales #sheaverse #the basic premise is that angel is half dragon from her mom's side #and that dragons were killed long ago. especially the sentient ones who could take human form #the continent is more or less still the same but this time the council sends her to clovicus to basically imprison her #clovicus teaches angel some basic spells as evar finishes his apprenticeship #and after angel becomes a legal adult she tries to just leave it all but evar -#aka idiot in love with her since she bit him when he teased her too far -#invites her to hang with him and just keep learning in her home with him - which she accepts because it sounds better than being on the run #they don't have a master/apprentice dynamic here - more like a 'you bored? lemme teach you magic'#which gets officialized when the council throws a fit about a dragon mage because screw them #angel has been taught since childhood not to let her dragon heritage be known outside joie #(in line with kitty's writing style...i do like to imagine the villagers knew about angel and her mom and accepted them #but couldn't do anything when the council found out)#anyway angelique has the 'conceal' thing now hammered into her by the council (negatively) already taught to her by her parents #(who did not at all mean to hide like this)#but i do like to think angel does have feelings for evariste before everything happened. she always just went no to that #ughhhh. sharing my aus always makes me feel self conscious cause most people don't like them #BUT THIS IS A TRASH FIRE BLOG. SO TRASH FIRE IT WILL HAVE #still hoarding my 84736 other aus for the hyperspecific individuals who like them and to myself *hissss*#and oh yeah #emerys is definitely overjoyed to know the ancient dragon race didn't all perish

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qiu-yan · 10 months ago

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EDIT: just realized that i should clarify something. what i meant by "feel bad for nie huaisang :(" was that jiang cheng felt bad for nie huaisang after nie mingjue died, because having to assume the burden of sect leadership while still grieving was something jiang cheng understood as well.

that poll option does NOT mean "jiang cheng thinks nie mingjue is abusing nie huaisang" or whatever. i should have made that clearer and i'm only realizing now my phrasing was in fact Dogshitte. i'm sorry.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #nie mingjue #do you ever think about how. after wwx fucked off with the wens. all the other sect leaders started grilling jiang cheng #who wasn't even there when wwx threatened everyone?? he had to figure out what happened from context #judging from the narration it seems like that was the first night in a long time he was able to go to sleep on time too #instead of pulling another all-nighter. and then this shit.#and when jc tried to argue that he and wwx did owe the wen siblings a debt for saving them #nmj shut him down immediately. “their family killed your parents. where is your filial duty?” an entirely reasonable view given the setting #but also. damn. rip. jc you were a teenage leader with zero experience. no one should expect you to stand up to them. sorry dude #if i were jc that would color my perception of nmj and the rest of them for a while #also if i were jc. and i was co-raising my only nephew with my co-sibling-in-law i dont know that well #and his sworn brother flipped his shit and yeeted him down the stairs. well i would be a lot more worried about my nephew's safety #given that my nephew is spending half his time in jinlintai!!! jiggy keep chifeng-zun away from him!!!!!#who knows maybe they covered up the stairs incident. even though it happened in broad daylight.#yanyan polls #these tags ended up being kind of negative so i think ill forgo the ship tag this time

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eggpea · 11 months ago

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i am slow cooking the most delicious of concoctions in the kitchen rn

(my tags are so long lol whole half ass recipe down there)

#idk its some bastardized recipe for something called mongolian beef #well can it really be called bastardized when i actually fuckin improved it #like all there was originally was fucking soy sauce garlic brown sugar and onion #LITERALLY NO SEASONING #so i took my earned skills and actuallly made it good #the sauce is now flavorful and doesnt taste like garlic soywater #(the meat gets slow cooked in the sauce thats how i know how the sauce tastes)#added a teeny bit of mustard powder and cumin(half TBsp) added some ginger and onion powder(TBsp) and upgraded garlic to black garlic(TB)#it contained 1/2 cup of soy and 1/3 cup of Brown sugar #also replaced the water with beef broth(half cup)#theres also some oil(i did reg Veggie oil cause i dont like Sesame/ 1TB)#you serve ontop some seasoned/fried rice and mixed peppers/veggies thatve been lightly seasoned and fried in a skillet #the meat(1 1/4 Lb.) gets cleaned and sliced into strips #you leave the strips in a heavy salt solution to leach it/tenderize it(you can use other methods but this was what i had on hand) then rins #(you leave it in the solution for ATLEAST 30 minutes)#pat the strips down dry and using a 1/4 cup of Corn starch you coat the strips entirely #you then put the meat into your sauce and stir it around until the meat is entirely covered in it #then slow cook for however long you want(im doing 8 hours for some REAL tender shit)#alot of these measurements were eyed balled (except starch and liquids)[im skilled at this]#i will update yall once ive tasted the finished product #i went a little light on the seasoning but i dont have certain ingredients i want/can obtain so i had to make do(plus my parents cant shiit #DO NOT ADD EXTRA SALT TO THE DISH #leaching the meat and the soy sauce already has enough salt content #THE STARCH IS NECESSARY PART OF THE DISH #you can achieve black garlic by slow cooking regular garlic FOR WEEKS #longer = better #also i recommend using minced Ginger instead of powder for better flavour

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foldingfittedsheets · 1 year ago

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Something that literally changed my life was working with a friend on a coding thing. He was helping me create an auto rig script and was trying to explain something to me but his words were just turning into static in my brain. I was tired and confused and there was so many new concepts happening.

I could feel myself working toward a crying meltdown and was getting preemptively ashamed of what was about to happen when he said, “Hey, are you someone who benefits from breaks?”

It broke me.

Did I benefit from breaks? I didn’t know. I’d never taken them.

When a problem frustrated or upset me I just gritted my teeth and plowed through the emotional distress because eventually if you batter and flail at something long enough you figure it out. So what if you get bruised on the way.

I viscerally remembered in that moment being forced to sit at the table late into the night with my dad screaming at me, trying to understand math. I remembered taking that with me into adulthood and having breakdowns every week trying to understand coding. I could have taken a break? Would it help? I didn’t know! I’d never taken one!

“Yes,” I told him. We paused our call. I ate lunch. I focused on other stuff for half an hour. I came back in a significantly better state of mind, and the thing he’d been trying to explain had been gently cooking in the back of my head and seemed easier to understand.

Now when I find myself gritting my teeth at problems I can hear his gentle voice asking if I benefit from breaks. Yes, dear god, yes why did I never get taught breaks? Why was the only way I knew to keep suffering until something worked?

I was relating to this same friend recently my roadtrip to the redwoods with my wife. “We stopped every hour or so to get out and stretch our legs and switch drivers. It was really nice. When I was a kid we’d just drive twelve hours straight and not stop for anything, just gas. We’d eat in the car and power through.”

He gave a wry smile, immediately connecting the mindset of my parents on a road trip to what they’d instilled in me about brute forcing through discomfort. “Do you benefit from breaks?” he echoed, drawing my attention to it, making me smile with the same sad acknowledgement.

Take breaks. You’re allowed. You don’t have to slam into problems over and over and over, let yourself rest. It will get easier. Take. Breaks.

#ramblies #advice #take breaks

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lizardho · 6 months ago

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When I came out, I was SO scared I was gonna get disowned. I wrote a letter to my parents, sent it to their emails, put a physical copy on the counter, and left the house for a few hours to give them time. In that time I tried coffee for the first time, which was a dreadful idea, and got all jittery. I kept waiting for a text or something but nothing happened.

After a few hours, I didn’t hear back from them so I went home. My parents were home and had stacked a bunch of groceries on top of the letter without opening it. They said “hi” and I said “hi” and went down stairs to the basement. I held my dog and panicked about what to do. My sister, who knew that I had written them a letter of great importance, told me they hadn’t read it yet. She also told me she could ask them to do so. I consented to this and stayed in the basement. A few minutes later my dad knocked on the door and poked his soft smooth little nerd head in and said “hey buddy” and I started crying so hard I almost vomited. He came over and gave me a BIG hug and said that it was gonna be OK, he was OK with this, he knew it must have been hard but he was here for me. He told me he and my mom had already talked years before they had me about how if they had to pick between their faith and their child they’d pick their child. It was a very sweet moment. I came out to my mom later that evening and we were both bawling the whole time.

The day after I came out to my parents, I came out to my brother @inbabylontheywept at a Mexican restaurant and he took it like a champ. That evening my mom took me for a walk and looked almost angry - she said she wanted to make sure that I didn’t use being a woman as an excuse to not go to grad school. I told her I wouldn’t and she instantly looked relieved and happier.

My dad, on the other hand, seemed to struggle with it. He kept asking me if I had a boyfriend, and I told him I did not. He kept asking me if I wanted to go clothes shopping with him and I did not. He kept asking me if I would let him go to some of my shows, and I had NO idea what he was talking about.

Finally, 6 months after coming out, of awkward misgendering and questions that didn’t make sense from my dad, he excitedly pokes his soft smooth little nerd head into my bedroom again and says “I found a movie about Your People.” My people. I was absolutely bewildered, but he was so excited and I knew he had been trying SO hard so I watched it with him. It was The Birdcage, and it was amazing. It also was revelatory in that I finally realized why my initially-supportive father seemed to be having such a hard time with my pronouns and stuff - he didn’t know what the difference between trans and doing drag was. After the movie he again asked if I would invite him to one of my shows, and I said, “Hey dad, you know how about half the world is women?” And he said “yeah,” and I said “Well, see, I’m on that half now. I’m not doing drag.” And it was like a switch flipped in his brain. He was like “omg that’s so easy? I was so confused about what to call you when?”

Anyway, my parents are charming and my family has been so kind and patient with me, I like sharing the stories of my little wins with them.

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yanderedrabbles · 2 months ago

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Christine - A Yandere Short Story

Based on Christine by Stephen King After your boyfriend's death, you're eager to sell his vintage Mustang. The car reminds you far too much of him and worse than that, it feels oddly alive. The only problem? Your dead boyfriend isn't ready to let go. Tags: Male Yanderes x Fem Reader, Horror, Character Death, 12k words Taglist: @mel-vaz

When your boyfriend died, you and Christine were the only witnesses.

All through his funeral, you kept thinking of ways to get rid of her. You were being paranoid and you knew it - she couldn't speak even if she wanted to. But having her around put you on edge, made you grit your teeth until your jaw ached.

After the wake, you approached your boyfriend's parents and asked if you could have her. They were pale and shaken, reeling from the suddeness of death just as much as from grief. His father nodded like a sleep walker, his voice older than his years.

"He would have wanted you to have her. She's yours."

His mother squeezed your shoulder. "I can't imagine what you're going through, dear. Whatever his faults, my boy loved you. I know that."

You managed a smile, managed to thank them through the tears that were suddenly falling. But your mind was on Christine. Always on Christine.

You were the last to leave the funeral parlour. You tried to tell yourself it was a coincidence, but deep down you knew the truth. You were scared. Scared of Christine, scared of your too quiet townhouse, scared of the dreams that would come when you closed your eyes.

It was early evening and the streetlights were coming on in the narrow tree lined avenue outside the funeral parlour. When you stepped out, goosebumps crawled across your arms.

She was waiting for you.

Christine. Your boyfriend's 1969 Mustang, cherry red and entirely rebuilt.

She was directly under a streetlight and her paint gleamed. The light reflected off her windshield so you couldn't see inside, but for a second it seemed like someone was already sitting behind the wheel.

You squeezed your eyes shut. When you opened them, the shadow driver was gone.

Christine. For most of your relationship, you loved her just as much as your boyfriend did. She was a labour of love and you felt it every time you sat in her passenger seat.

But things were different now.

You walked towards her cautiously. It was ridiculous to be scared of a car, but you were.

When you opened the driver side door, you almost expected to see your boyfriend. Despite the funeral, the wake, the late morning call to please come and identify a body down at the morgue, you still expected to see him. Light green eyes looking up at you, half smile that was half teasing and half lecherous.

The seats were empty.

You slid behind the wheel, your breathing shaky. You almost never drove Christine. Not that your boyfriend didn't offer. It was just that you liked riding passenger - liked looking over and seeing your man with one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh, liked seeing the muscles flex in his forearm when he steered.

The car still smelled like him. That was the first thing you noticed. Despite being impounded for a week while the cops did forensics, despite the valet scrubbing and steaming the seats to get the blood out, it still smelled like him.

You rested your head against the steering wheel, closed your eyes and sobbed for the first time since the night you killed your boyfriend.

When you put Christine up for sale, the calls started coming in almost immediately. It wasn't surprising - she was in incredible shape, she ran like a dream, and her white leather upholstery was original.

At first, you thought you'd be able to sell her before the month was up. The buyers would look under the hood and whistle in admiration.

But something always changed when they took her for a test drive. You couldn't understand it - she would drive perfectly but by the time you got home, the buyers were almost always frowning at you, or worse - not looking at you at all.

No matter how fanatic they were at first, no one wanted Christine.

You dropped the price and then dropped it again, but still no takers. The car spent all winter in the garage. You'd turn her on to idle every few days, clean off any dust and check that the mice weren't nibbling at the wiring, but you never stuck around for long.

It hurt to leave her locked away - your boyfriend poured so much of himself into her - but it hurt even worse to drive her. Whenever you were behind the wheel, you could feel the gaping emptiness of the passenger seat, could still see the bloodstains.

It was on the first warm day of spring when someone finally bought her.

Colt Guilder called you when you were just about ready to give up on selling her. You were literally about to take down the ad when your phone rang. The voice on the other end was deep, with a slight southern drawl that immediately reminded you of your boyfriend.

"Can I come and take a look today? I wouldn't want to impose ma'am, but I'm in a hurry to see her before anyone else gets a chance to buy her."

Her. Even the older buyers didn't really call cars 'her' anymore.

"Sure. You can come by this afternoon."

You were sitting on the porch steps when he pulled up, a jug of iced tea and your novel abandoned next to you. He stepped out of his Jeep, a tall man in blue jeans and boots, and you felt your heart lurch. Something deep inside you told you that this was the man who would finally take her off your hands.

He smiled at you as he approached and for a second you wanted to warn him away. Wanted to tell him the truth about Christine.

"Howdy ma'am. I'm real happy you agreed to meet me so last minute."

You smiled at him and shook his hand and bit back the truth. Oh, how you would come to hate that decision.

When he pulled up, Colt wasn't expecting the Mustang's owner to be a pretty little thing in a sundress. He was a gentleman, his mama raised him right, but even he had trouble keeping his eyes on your face and not letting them wander lower.

His hand swallowed yours when he shook it and it was hard not to notice the softness of your skin. Whoever rebuilt the Mustang, it wasn't you. You had the hands of a lady, not a mechanic.

"The car is out back. Keys are waiting for you. She's been serviced pretty regularly and my... my boyfriend built her up himself."

You started for the garage and he fell into step behind you. You were so much shorter than him - it was kind of cute to see your head bobbing in front of him. Like a pixie in a sundress.

"How come your man ain't the one to sell it?"

He wasn't surprised you had a boyfriend. Hell, he'd have tried his luck if he could. No doubt other men had the same idea.

"He... he passed away a few moths ago."

He cringed. Nice going, Colt. Bringing up painful memories only three sentences into conversation. Must be a world record.

"I'm so sorry ma'am. I had no idea."

You shrugged. "It's fine."

He was about to say something else when Christine came into view. Her grille was a newly buffed silver and her deep red paint caught the spring sun.

He gave a low whistle. "Pictures don't do her justice."

You smiled at that, but edged out of the car's direct line of sight. Neither of you consciously noticed it, but you approached the car like you would an animal. Slightly from the side so it couldn't charge at you.

"Mind if I take a look under the hood?"

"Be my guest."

He popped the hood and let out another low whistle. Without even looking past the surface level stuff, it was clear your boyfriend knew how to build an engine. The Mustang looked almost new.

"How long did this take?"

You leaned against the garage door and crossed your arms.

"A long time. He bought her a few months after we started dating. She was gonna be scrapped - looked like a total rust bucket."

He raised his eyebrows. If that was true, the body restoration alone must have cost a fortune. Did you realise how valuable a vintage ride like this was worth?

"Y'know, just from looking under the hood, I can tell you could get at least three times as much as you're asking."

If his uncle heard him sabotaging himself like that, he'd have given Colt a whack on the head. Truth was, he wanted the car. Wanted her so bad he would have taken out three separate loans to afford her.

But he wasn't a monster. It wasn't fair to buy something so fine from a girl who might not understand its true worth.

You raised your brows, more surprised at his honesty than at his statement.

"I know she's worth more. But I'm in a hurry to get rid of her. And well..."

You looked away. "People find the car a bit strange."

It was his turn to be surprised. He couldn't see any red flags in her upkeep or her paintwork. Maybe it was a deeper issue.

You pushed yourself away from the wall and nodded at the door.

"Keys are waiting for you. Take her for a drive and decide for yourself."

The interior was just as well taken care of as he expected - a tough job when the upholstery was mostly white. The keys had a tag attached with a name engraved in metal.

"Christine?"

"It's what we call her. It was a joke at first but the name sort of stuck."

You slid into the passenger seat and tugged your seat belt across your chest. He glanced at you out the corner of his eye and -

'Silly thing, doesn't she know better than to get into a car with a stranger twice her size?'

He shook his head, like that could dislodge the idea. He wasn't that sort of man, wasn't some kind predator with a mind full of filth.

'It would be so easy. You're so much bigger than her, so much stronger. You want her. Why not just take what you want?'

Where the hell was this coming from? He might have a guilty thought every once in a while, but he was always quick to squash it down. It wasn't like him to think something so...forceful about a girl.

He turned the key and the engine roared to life. And it really was a roar. V8 engine growling so loud he could feel the vibration through the steering wheel.

Oh baby, he was sold on her right then and there. The devil himself couldn't have outbid him. What little boy didn't dream of a car like this? Didn't spend his childhood looking through magazines and brawling over matchbox versions?

The clutch was smooth as butter as he cruised down your driveway and turned onto the main road.

God, he wanted to gun it. Floor the gas and find out for himself just how powerful old school muscle was.

He looked over at you, about to ask if you knew exactly what your boyfriend did to the engine. You were looking out at the passing trees, your hair stirring in the slight breeze from his open window.

'She looks like she belongs here, with you.'

It was another foreign thought, something he wouldn't expect of himself. But it was true. The Mustang would have felt empty without you - in your sundress and white sneakers, you completed the picture. Your boyfriend must have rebuilt the car just for you, as a way to keep you next to him. Colt wasn't sure why he thought that, but somehow he knew it was true. Whoever your man was, he put so much of himself into this car that Colt almost felt like he was right next to the guy.

You turned to him, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

"What do you think?"

"She runs sweet as apple pie."

You felt your heart stutter. Your boyfriend used to say the exact same thing.

"You alright there sweetheart? You look a little pale."

"Sorry. Just a little car sick."

Car sick was right - you were sick to hell of this damn car and the way it played with your emotions.

"C'mon, I know a diner just off the highway. We can stop for some fresh air and a bite to eat. You'll feel better in no time."

You didn't have time to protest before he switched lanes and turned onto the highway.

The diner he took you to really was just off the highway, a retro looking spot railed off from a steep cliff.

"How did you know about this place?"

He shrugged. "I must have heard about it from someone."

Strange. Colt didn't think he'd ever seen the place before, much less heard about it. But when you looked at him with that slight hint of panic, that sudden fear, somehow he knew this was the place to bring you.

He climbed out and opened your door for you before you had a chance to do it yourself.

"You know this place?" he asked.

If anything, you looked even paler than before. "Yeah. My boyfriend and I used to come up here pretty often."

He frowned, annoyed at himself for somehow making this even worse. "We can go somewhere else if you want."

"No!" You took a deep breath. "No, this is fine. I just need a moment away from the car, that's all."

He led you to a picnic table near the edge of the cliff. Far below you, the main road clung to the cliffside and disappeared into the trees.

"You just sit pretty and I'll grab us some chow."

You smiled up at him. "Thanks Colt. Really. I know this is probably eating into your day."

He waved it away. "Trust me, this is a much better way to spend the weekend than what I had planned."

It was true. He'd wanted to see the car and somehow that turned into lunch with a pretty girl at a table with one hell of a view. Maybe Christine had some good luck about her. Maybe all of this was just meant to be.

When he stepped into the diner, he was greeted by jukebox country music and the smell of good, strong coffee. He didn't bother to look at the menu. Somehow, he knew exactly what to order.

"I'll have a banana spilt, some fries and a toasted sandwich." He smiled at the elderly waitress. "Please and thank you Agnes."

"Sure thing sugar."

He frowned. How the hell did he know the waitress's name?

Must have seen her name tag, right? That made sense. Must have been a half second, subconscious glance.

When she handed him his change, he dropped his eyes to her lapel. No name tag. No label. Not even a necklace with her initials on it.

It was a warm spring day but he still shivered. Something strange was going on.

No, don't be ridiculous. Agnes was a common name, a vintage diner kind of name. That was probably why he said it. His mind must have just made a lucky guess. There's no way he could know her name when he didn't even know about the diner until he pulled up.

Unless... it wasn't him that knew her name. Maybe it was someone else, something else speaking through him.

"C'mon Colt, don't be an idiot," he muttered to himself.

"You say something sugar?"

He jerked his head to the side, his heart lurching. Just the waitress, just Agnes, looking at him with raised brows.

"No ma'am. Just thinking out loud."

"Alrighty then. Here's your order. Be careful not to spill the chocolate sauce. It's hell to clean up."

"Yes ma'am. Thank you ma'am. Have a good day."

He was stupidly happy to step out of the restaurant. The place must have been getting to him. Why else was he suddenly so superstitious?

"You doing okay Colt?" you asked.

He grinned at you. "Just dandy sweetheart. I got you a banana split and some French fries."

"Oh! That's perfect, thank you."

See? Nothing strange at all. He had a sweet ride and a sweeter girl waiting for him. Why worry about some weird diner?

He sat down across from you and unwrapped his sandwich. Behind you, Christine looked at him with a shining chrome smile.

"Listen, you can get a whole lot more for a car that fine. But if you're willing to let her go for the price in the ad, I'll buy her today," he said.

You froze, a fry halfway to your mouth. He really wanted her? He wasn't coming up with some lame excuse or hurrying off with a mumbled apology?

"Done," you said, a bit too quickly.

You were finally getting rid of Christine. No more nightmares, no more tip toeing around the garage like you were scared she might notice you, no more unwanted memories every time you laid eyes on her.

You were burying your past like it should have been buried on the day of your boyfriend's funeral.

He offered you his hand and you shook it, a genuine smile on your face.

"She's all yours." And thank God for that.

Colt drove you home and followed you into the house to collect the car registration papers.

You frowned at your empty desk drawer. You could have sworn you left the documents right here...

You popped your head into the living room where Colt was waiting.

"Give me a second. I think I left them upstairs."

"Sure. I'm in no hurry."

He wandered around your living room while you were gone, too keyed up to sit still. It was a neat, modern room with art on the walls. The big bay windows opened onto the front yard and the driveway where Christine sat waiting for him.

Part of him still couldn't believe it. She really was his dream car. The sort of ride all his work buddies would be green with envy over.

He leaned against the windowsil and then quickly looked down when his hand brushed something metallic.

Picture frames, the small kind that usually sat on a desk. He picked one up, the frame cool against his skin. It was a picture of you and someone he guessed to be your boyfriend. Both of you were in formal wear - you in a deep red evening gown and him in a tailored tux. Christine was parked in the background, her red a compliment to your dress.

Your boyfriend was handsome in a rough cut sort of way, his hair swept back and a tattoo just peeking out of his shirt. He was looking directly at the camera while you looked up at him, his arm curled tightly around your waist.

Colt frowned. There was something about the man's expression... a kind of possessive meanness. He seemed the type of guy to start a fight and then finish it no matter what, a real tough customer.

And the way he held you... some might call it loving but Colt found it more proprietary than anything else.

'Mine. My girl, no matter what. Try and take her from me and I'll show you a world of hurt.'

Colt put the picture down with a frown and scanned the others. Out hiking on the mountains, at the beach, holding a huge bouquet while he kissed you. A perfect couple except... except for the way he looked at you. Sweet, yes. But somehow dangerous, in the way rattlesnakes and cougars were. Fine if they weren't disturbed, but tread on their territory and there'd be hell to pay.

He moved away when he heard you coming down the stairs. You were a little flushed, a little out of breath, but you grinned at him and waved a stack of papers.

"Finally found them! Just need to sign the change of ownership forms and she's all yours."

He watched you as you searched for a pen, your sundress swishing 'round your thighs. He didn't like your boyfriend - dead or not, he seemed like one mean bastard - but seeing you so happy, so flushed with life and hope and joy, Colt found he could almost understand the other man. If you were his girl, he'd hold you just as tight.

You finally found a pen and he scribbled his signature on the dotted line.

"Well, seems like you're the proud new owner of a 1969 Ford Mustang. Congratulations."

He carefully took the papers from you, his fingers brushing yours. "Real good doing business with you sweetheart."

You lead him out to the car, going through the list of things he'd need to do to properly register the car as his. Real cute of you, to think he didn't know it all already.

He slid into the driver's seat and when he touched the wheel, he felt that same sense of power. And under it, a strange feeling of being not quiet alone in the car.

You stood outside his window, running through a catalogue of spares and repairs that he might want to check out. If he had to guess, you seemed nervous.

He leaned back and smiled at you. "It's alright y/n. I ain't changing my mind. Deals done, remember?"

It was the first time using your name and it sent a small bolt of electricity jolting through him.

'Her name is mighty sweet, ain't it? Meant to be said oh so softly, meant to be savoured.'

You looked at him like you felt it too, your cheeks just a little warmer than before.

Oh Lord, what sort of bastard was he? Feeling this way about you when your boyfriend was in the ground for scarcely half a year? You were probably still mourning, still nursing your broken heart. He should be a gentleman and leave you alone, shouldn't take advantage of your vulnerability. He should be a good man.

'You'd be an idiot to let her go.'

The thought streaked through his mind. It almost didn't feel like his own idea. Wherever the thought came from, it wasn't wrong. He really would be an idiot to not ask you out when he had a chance. He got lucky with the car - prize piece like this would have been snatched up in a matter of hours. If he didn't ask you out, if he didn't push his luck for the second time, the same thing might happen with you.

"How 'bout I take you out to dinner later this week? As a thank you."

You looked unsure, your eyes jumping down to the car keys like you were expecting an objection.

"Please? I know Christine must mean a lot to you. I'd feel a whole lot better taking her off your hands if I could thank you properly."

You bit your lower lip and he found his eyes drawn to the sight of it. Please say yes please say-

"Yes, I think I'd like that. But no later than eight, okay?"

YES! He rubbed a palm across his jaw to hide his smile.

"I'll bring you home early, promise."

"I'll hold you to that, cowboy."

Oh god, he wanted to melt when you called him that. It was so silly - big guy like him getting butterflies over a sort-of kind-of date.

'Atta boy. You ain't gonna regret it.'

He was too distracted watching you walk away to realise the thought wasn't his own.

That night, you slept without dreaming. For the first time since your boyfriend's death, you didn't see his face when you closed your eyes.

You woke up the next morning expecting to be relieved. Christine was gone, wasn't that exactly what you wanted?

Yes, but...but what happens next? You weren't an idiot nor were you unduly superstitious, but Christine didn't feel like a normal car. Maybe that's what happens after a violent death - things change, the blood seeps through the fabric and poisons the aura, or the energy, or whatever the hell you wanted to call it.

You made yourself breakfast but couldn't eat more than a few bites.

Okay, try and be logical. It was probably just your guilt playing tricks on you. You loved Christine and you loved your boyfriend, so it was only natural that you'd feel terrible about selling her. That's all. Blood and death can't change the nature of an inanimate object, no matter how violent or grisly it might have been.

Right. Just your guilty conscience. No need to work yourself up.

Across town, Colt slept through his alarm. He was dreaming, a sweet little fantasy of cruising down the highway on a brilliant summer day. You were next to him, your sundress even shorter than before, smiling at him and running your hand up his thigh.

You were his girl. His and his alone. He could feel the certainty of it in every part of him. You loved him, you stood by him, you did everything you could to support him, you were his.

Christine purred through her gears and he pushed the gas a little more, eager to get home. He would show you exactly how much he appreciated you - inch by inch and kiss by kiss.

"I love you darlin'. I need you to know that," he said. His voice didn't sound like his own. It was raspier, with an edge of meanness that not even love could soften.

You looked at him, smiling all soft and sweet. "I know. I've always known."

Colt jerked awake, smiling and shivering at the same time. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, disoriented and feeling like a stranger in his own body.

"One hell of a dream," he muttered.

'Not a dream cowboy. A memory from someone long dead.'

He ignored the thought, his mind already focused on the day ahead. He'd driven Christine home yesterday, but left his Jeep parked outside your house. He could either get one of his buddies pick it up or take a taxi over and get it himself.

Was it even a choice? He wanted to see you again. If he had to pay an ungodly amount for an Uber, he would.

Should he call you before showing up at your door? What would be a good time to see you? He didn't want to show up too late and catch you in a rush to leave.

'She'll be awake by now. But she'll only leave for work after twelve.'

How did he know that? Did you mention it yesterday?

He climbed out of bed and half stumbled to the bathroom. As the steam clouded up the mirror, he thought of his dream. And what might have happened if he'd stayed asleep longer. Maybe your hand would wander further up his thigh, and then...

He lathered up his fist and took hold of himself. He was already hard from just the thought of you. Your sundress looked so damn flimsy. He could probably yank it off you with just one hand.

He groaned, his forehead pressed against the tile. Picturing your hand dwarfed by his when you shook on the sale; how soft your skin was, how good it would feel if you touched him just like this.

'Fucking yourself like a dog at the thought of her.'

He agreed. You really were turning him into a dog.

You were sitting in your living room, trying and failing to read your novel, when he knocked on your front window. You struggled to smooth down your hair while you scrambled for the door.

"Hi Colt! Came to pick up your Jeep?"

He was wearing blue jeans again today, with a tight wife beater that showed off arms thick with muscle.

"Yes ma'am. Thought I'd stop by and see if you needed anything."

That made you smile. How often does someone go out of their way to check up on a stranger?

"I don't think so. But I've got some fresh orange juice and donuts, if you'd like to come in."

He smiled at you and for a second his gaze dipped down past your chin. "There's nothing I'd like better."

He took up a lot of space at your kitchen table, but you found it comforting. The room felt too big without your boyfriend to fill it.

You flipped open the box of donuts and he picked out the mint chocolate one.

"Never really liked the mint ones," he told you, "But I've got an awful craving for one right now."

"Oh I never liked them much either. It was my boyfriend who was the die-hard mint fan."

He looked away from you, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "It must be hard for you. Losing him so suddenly."

"It was. It is. Everyone keeps telling me it gets easier, but it hasn't. Up until last night, I dreamt about him everynight."

"Dreamt of him?" he asked you suddenly, his eyes intense.

"Yep. Every single night. It was like I was reliving my memories again and again."

He looked a bit perturbed at your statement, but you put it down to him feeling awkward about the conversation. Death is never a fun or casual topic.

"So how's Christine treating you?"

"Like a dream. I was thinking of taking her down the coast next weekend. All open road and sea air." He paused, seeming to weigh something up in his mind. "Why don't you join me? The morning after I take you out to dinner. We can pack a picnic and have lunch at the cape."

"That sounds incredible." You looked down at your hands, slightly uneasy but not sure why. Your boyfriend spoke about doing that once. A mini road trip with the windows down and the sea breeze in your hair.

It's not that strange that Colt had the same idea, right? Everyone knew the coast road was a long, quiet stretch. Perfect for putting Christine to the test.

"You're gonna love it," he said. "I'll even make my world famous tiramisu."

You raised a brow. "You know how to make tiramisu?" Big guy like him didn't really seem the patisserie type. Did he have a cute apron with bows on it too?

He pointed his donut at you, blue eyes twinkling. "Not just any tiramisu. World famous."

You snorted out a laugh and for the first time in months, you kitchen felt like a happy place.

He dreamt about you again that night. Christine was parked in a dark corner on the edge of a cliffside hiking trail. He could hear waves crashing far below. It was nighttime, with the full moon outlining your face in silver and shadow.

He was in the driver's seat and you were straddling his lap. You were wearing a sweater and a cute pleated skirt that seemed oh so short with the way you leaned over him.

"You've been ignoring me," you accused him. You were pouting in an adorably petulant way. He looked at your lips - red and slightly swollen - and knew that he'd just been kissing you.

"I haven't been ignorin' you sugar. I've just been busy."

He spoke with that same raspy voice that somehow wasn't his.

"Too busy to say hello or drop by for dinner?"

You shifted in his lap and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from groaning. Oh, you damn tease.

"I'm filthy and tired after work sweetheart. You wouldn't want me."

You frowned, going from slightly annoyed to full blown angry.

"I always want you, you idiot. I'm not scared of a few stains. I like it when you come home smelling like the workshop. I like it when you're dirty from work." You tugged at his collar. "I like you. Why don't you get that?"

'Because you're too good for me.' He almost said it. It was on the tip of his tongue and it was only some dull instinct that kept him quiet. How couldn't you see it? You were everything he wasn't. You were educated and kind and selfless. He was just some bastard from the wrong side of the tracks.

He wanted to impress you. He wanted to be worthy of you. Fixing up the Mustang was just the start of it. He didn't care that it took him all summer and pretty much all of his pay cheque to do. He wanted a ride that he would be proud to pick you up in.

And it still didn't feel like enough. Nothing ever felt like enough.

He looked away from you and stayed silent.

You sighed and brought your palms up to his cheeks, gently turned his face back to yours. "I like you. I'm dating you. I want to spend time with you, no matter how grouchy you are. Okay?"

He should be a gentleman and let you go, shouldn't take advantage of your kindness. He should be a good man.

"Okay," he said and leaned forward to kiss you.

He wasn't a good man. He wasn't a gentleman. He was going to hold onto you for as long as he could.

Colt woke up with a snarl, slamming his fist on his alarm so hard the clock face cracked.

"I didn't want it to end, goddammit."

He rubbed his hand over his face. The dream felt so real. He could feel the late fall chill, could smell your shampoo and taste your cherry lip gloss. He wanted to go right back to sleep and fall back into that wonderful fantasy.

He scowled and threw the covers off. Dreams could wait, work couldn't.

All through the day he was snappish and irritable. One of the apprentices messed up an order and he snarled at them to stop being so fucking useless and fix it. His coworkers shot each other looks behind his back. He was behaving entirely out of character but both him and his buddies were helpless to stop it. It was only when he got home at the end of his shift that he realised why.

He wanted to dream about you again.

There wasn't any guarantee that he would. Dreams weren't exactly scheduled network programming. But somehow he knew it would happen.

He ended up going to bed before eight, a world record for someone who usually only considered sleeping when it was well past midnight.

He was right. He did dream of you.

You were in a bikini this time, lounging on a lawn chair in the backyard. You had sunglasses on and there was a slight sheen of baby oil on your skin. Your phone was on shuffle and pop music was blaring from the speakers.

You weren't expecting him and he kept his steps real quiet as he approached you. He kept expecting you to hear him and shoot up, and he was slightly annoyed when you didn't. What if he was a serial killer or some sick pervert, sneaking up on you while you were so vulnerable? Did you have no spatial awareness?

He made it all the way to the back of your chair and you were still totally oblivious. There was a magazine and a glass of ice tea on a small table next to you. You were softly humming along to the music.

He took a minute to just admire you. Your body stretched out and entirely at his mercy. His girl, his gorgeous girl.

He leaned down until his lips were right next to your ear.

"Hey there sugar. You miss me?"

You shot up with a shriek, your sunglasses flying. You whirled on him, grabbing your magazine like thirty pages of glossy Cosmo was going to help you fight off an attacker.

Your eyes narrowed when you recognised him and you smacked his chest, hard.

"You asshole! You gave me a heart attack!"

He couldn't help but smirk at the sight of you so riled up.

"You're lucky it was me and not someone else. Not everyone has such noble intentions."

"Yeah right. Was it your noble intention to scare the living daylights out of me?"

He held up his palms in a placating gesture. "Just teachin' you a lesson sweetheart. I was standing there for a good few minutes and you didn't notice a damn thing."

He cast a critical eye across your backyard. "I reckon some high wooden fencing would do the trick. 'Bout seven feet high, sunken flowerbeds on either side like trenches to make it even harder to get a leg up."

"I don't want a fence."

He ignored you, already mentally calculating how much lumber he'd need. "A nice light coloured wood. Pine maybe. Will match your house much better."

You sat back down, the fight draining out of you as your adrenaline dissipated. "What are you doing here? Did you get off work early?"

He narrowed his eyes but you didn't seem to notice. "Why? Don't want me around?"

That shocked you enough that you twisted around in your chair to look at him.

"Of course I want you around! Don't ever imply otherwise. This is a lovely surprise." You paused. "Near heart attack aside of course."

It was funny how easily you could calm him down. One sentence was all it took to get him smiling again. He leaned forward and hooked one finger under the strap of your bikini top.

"I haven't seen this one before. New?"

You blushed and looked down. "Mm-hmm."

"It's cute. But..."

You glanced up at him, suddenly self conscious. "But what?"

He grinned wolfishly. "But...you would look so much better without it."

He tugged at the bow holding your top up. The strings unravelled and fell down your back. The bra cups started to slip down too, and his eyes were glued to their steady fall.

He was going to teach you a whole 'nother lesson about wearing such a skimpy outfit where anyone could see you. Show you exactly what sick, twisted bastards would do to your body. Teach you a lesson you won't forget, so maybe, just maybe... you'd learn to be more cautious around men like him.

Colt woke up with a hunger like death. His cock so hard it was actually throbbing. He didn't feel well rested, despite having slept more than he had in two weeks.

It played over and over again in his mind. The strings unravelling, your bikini top sliding off... Always stopping right at the good part, the part he most wanted to see.

He got ready for the day with a savage efficiency. Bolting back his protein shake without even tasting it. He didn't realise it, but he'd started counting down the days until he could see you again. Just two more days. Two more nights of dreams and then you'd be there in the flesh and he could finally - finally what? He shook his head to clear away the dirty thoughts that were crowding him.

He was being a real bastard. Thinking about you, dreaming about you, when he had no right to. You hadn't shown any romantic or physical interest in him. You were clearly still grieving your man. He needed to get himself under control - what you needed in your life was a friend, not another man to obsess over you.

He forced himself to take a cold shower. Forced himself to avoid thinking about you. And to especially avoid thinking about the you from his dream.

'Good luck with that buddy. I used to be so tired I was falling asleep on my feet and I still couldn't get her out of my head.'

Work was thankfully busy that day and he threw himself into it with every feverish ounce of energy he had. Whenever his thoughts wandered towards you, he would find something else to do. He didn't eat anything at all and he didn't even notice getting hungry. He took on an extra shift and finished long after the sun went down, his muscles a hurting mess and his head not much better.

Christine was the last car left in the parking lot, sitting under a streetlight like she was waiting for him. He found his steps unintentionally getting slower the closer he came to her.

In the dark and lonely emptiness of the parking lot, she didn't feel like a normal car. If anything, she seemed to be watching him. Her headlights like eyes and her grille a silvery gash of a smile.

If he had to guess, he'd say the car was almost unhappy with him.

"Because I'm thinking about her?" He asked as he climbed behind the wheel. Immediately, he felt stupid and superstitious for talking out loud.

'Because you aren't thinking about her.'

He'd driven Christine to work the last few days despite not wanting to cause unnecessary wear and tear. Being in the car, driving it, was still a thrill.

Not tonight though.

He felt on edge, wanting to get out as soon as possible. She purred to life with the same thrumming power as always but his throat was tight with a nervousness he couldn't explain.

The inside of the car was suffocatingly quiet. He turned on the radio and old school rock 'n roll poured out.

'Just the sort of thing her boyfriend used to listen to,' he thought to himself. And then he laughed a stuttering, barking sort of laugh because there was no logical way he could have known that.

'Take it easy big guy. You and I are just gonna cruise. That's all.'

A nice cruise. Yeah, that sounded good. Calm his nerves, get rid of the nameless dread that was building all day. He relaxed into his seat, the streetlights crawling past in a hypnotic line of bright and dark.

He didn't notice when the radio dial moved on its own and the station changed from rock 'n roll to country. The singer sounded awfully familiar. His voice a kind of husky rasp. He was singing about his girl, his pretty woman, and he was singing about the grave and he was singing about the dark that waited.

'Oh,' he thought to himself dully, 'That's the voice I keep hearing in my dreams.'

When he finally reached home, it was two in the morning and the petrol gauge showed an empty tank. He'd somehow driven enough to eat through a full tank of gas. A drive that should have taken twenty minutes took five hours.

He got out of the car on legs that felt numb and cold. He couldn't remember driving. He couldn't remember the strange music or the even stranger passenger that rode with him. In his mind, there existed the clear cut memory of leaving work and climbing into Christine. Then there was nothing but a long, grey blankness that was tinged with a muted terror.

He collapsed into bed still in his work clothes. By morning, his mind would have stitched over all those things too terrible to contemplate. He would wake up feeling groggy and confused, and probably put it down to the strain of a long day.

Colt slept after driving with the dead and didn't dream.

On the day before your date, he found an engagement ring under the passenger side carpet.

He had no reason to look there, no reason to pull the carpet up by its seams. But he did it anyway and his reward was a silver and diamond band with blood dried in the crevices. There was an engraving on the inside and he had to take it out into the sun to try and read it.

'Mine. Forever and always.'

He shivered despite standing in the bright midmorming sun. Most rings would say 'yours' instead of 'mine.' He had no doubt that the change was entirely intentional. Your boyfriend was staking his claim on you - not just with the ring but with the intention behind it.

He looked at the brownish red stains and knew in his heart they were blood. Your boyfriend's blood.

Colt didn't know how the man died, but looking at the ring, he felt sure that it was bloody and far from natural. How would a blood stained ring end up in Christine? If the guy had been in accident sure. But the car was in perfect condition. The ring shouldn't have been there.

Unless he was murdered. Soaked in blood and tossed around during the struggle, the ring probably got pushed under the seam of the carpet. It was a sealed off spot and even a forensics team might miss something that small.

It was an outlandish and macabre theory to be basing entirely off one mysterious engagement ring. If he stopped to think about it, he would no doubt be able to poke a dozen separate holes into his theory.

Somehow, he knew it was true. The same way he suddenly knew Christine wasn't just an ordinary car and that his dreams about you were far from natural.

He felt a queer prickling all across his nape. He wasn't the type to scare easily, but this... This frightened him. He didn't feel alone anymore. He felt like if he looked up at the rear view mirror, he'd see someone in the back seat. No, not just someone. He'd see the dead man who owned the car before him.

He'd see the man who wanted to marry you.

He sucked in a sharp breath and forced himself to let it out slowly. He wasn't a superstitious man. He didn't let fancies of ghosts and ghouls affect him. But even he couldn't deny the way he felt. His gut was telling him something was terribly, terribly wrong.

He climbed out of Christine like a man scared of waking a sleeping bear. He didn't even bother to grab the keys.

He couldn't explain any of it. Not the dreams, not the thoughts that felt like someone else, not the prickling certainty that a man died right where he'd been sitting.

He got into his his Jeep and pulled out of the driveway, his eyes on Christine the entire time. Like she'd somehow roar to life and slam into him.

He didn't know where he was driving to until he parked. A bar across town, a real rough spot that on most days even he wouldn't want to stop at. But today wasn't like most days.

The place was dark and the folk sitting around weren't exactly the friendly sort. He settled at the bar and ordered a tequila without really thinking about it.

Funny. He used to hate tequila.

It went down like fire, and he shuddered. He wanted to laugh. What else was a mam supposed to drink when the world didn't make a lick of sense anymore?

"Give me another one." His voice was raspier somehow. Even though that never happened when he drank vodka or whiskey.

There were mirrored shelves opposite him and he caught sight of his eyes. A pale green. He tossed back his second shot and tried to tell himself it was just a trick of the light.

He wasn't sure who to talk to. Not the Sheriff's Office. Yeah officer, there was a man murdered in my car and now I can't stop dreaming about his girlfriend didn't exactly scream unimpeachable sobriety.

And not the pastor either. Father, I'm being haunted by filthy thoughts and I'm not sure if they're my own. He doubted the old man at his mother's church was qualified to deal with that sort of thing.

But he couldn't keep quiet either. He had to tell someone about it. If they called him crazy at least it was an acknowledgement. At least it was better than being dead drunk and being scared of his own eyes in the mirror.

Who could possibly know anything about it? Oh. Of course.

He fumbled his phone out of his pocket and almost threw it across the room when it wouldn't turn on. He charged it every night, goddammit.

"There a pay phone somewhere 'round here?" he asked the bartender.

The man jerked his face at the side door that lead to the back parking lot. Colt stumbled out - swaying on his feet far worse than two drinks should warrant.

It was late afternoon. He shaded his eyes and tried looked at the sun like it was deliberately lying to him. He arrived at midday and he couldn't have been in there for more than twenty minutes. How the hell was it this late?

'Time moves differently when you're dead cowboy. You should know that by now.'

The payphone was in the shadow of the bar and he shivered when he stepped out of the sun. Wrong. It was all wrong and he didn't know how to fix it. Why was the voice still in his head when Christine was all the way across town? Why did he still feel life he wasn't quiet alone?

It was only when he had the receiver up against his ear that he realised he didn't know your number. Shit.

He leaned his forearm against the payphone and rested his forehead against it. Could he maybe get a taxi and show up at your house? He scoffed. Yeah, that would go well. Showing up dead drunk just to say he knew you liked short skirts in fall and that he dreamed of pulling off your bikini top. He'd be lucky if you only mildly tazed him.

Fuck. Okay. Home again. Sleep it off. Charge his phone. Call you in the morning and try not to sound too crazy. He could manage that.

He called the taxi company listed in the phone book. Half wondering if they were still in operation. When it finally connected, the call was thick with static.

"Yeah?" The man's voice was raspy and standoffish.

"Can I get a cab at Ronnie's on Westside?"

The man laughed. "Oh you must be a real tough customer to be drinking there. Didn't think you'd have the balls cowboy."

Colt wanted to cuss him out. What kind of fucker answers the phone and insults you less than two sentences in? He squeezed the receiver until he felt he could control his voice.

"Yeah. I'm a real mean guy. So can I get my cab or not?"

"Oh, I'll send you a ride alright." There was a mocking tilt to his voice. "Best fucking ride you'll ever take. Just sit pretty. You'll know when it's for you."

The skin on the back of his neck crawled. He hung up without another word.

The streetlights were coming on and the gold of sunset was giving way to the awful in-between greyness of twilight. He waited for his ride.

You came home to find flowers on your doorstep. A bouquet of white roses. You froze. There was only one man who sent you flowers and he was cold and dead for the better part of a year.

You picked the card up by the edge and flicked it open.

Hope you didn't forget our date. See you soon dollface.

-Colt

Oh. You laughed, ridiculously relieved. Of course.

Dinner tomorrow night with the cowboy. You took the roses inside and hunted around for a vase. Was it actually a date? He'd said it was a thank you dinner, but it wouldn't hurt to dress up a little. Do your makeup a bit fancy, maybe wear your new heels. It'd been months since you'd gone out, had a nice dinner with a friend. This could be good for you. Just one more step back into normalcy.

The clouds were starting to gather and as evening came on, they broke with a shudder of thunder.

You curled up on your couch, all the lights on. It was going to be a bad storm. The first really awful one in almost half a year. You tried not to, but it got you thinking about that night. The night your boyfriend proposed to you. The night you killed him.

You closed your eyes and tried not to see it, but the memories followed you even past the darkness. You couldn't run from them for long.

It was cold outside, rain drumming on Christine's roof. Sharp, constant. Your boyfriend was in the driver's seat, buckling his belt. A lazy, satisfied smirk on his face.

You liked it when he looked at you like that. Satisfied. Mellow. It never lasted long, but in the few minutes after fucking you, he would agree to just about anything.

"I'm drunk on you baby," he'd said once. "Heads all woozy. Would do anything for you. Fucking anything."

Christine's windows were all fogged up, and you traced little hearts on the glass. To be honest, you felt a little drunk on him too. Heart still pounding, head reeling. Cunt still fluttering and full. He was so good at reading you, at fucking you just how you needed it. No man before him could make you come so hard, or do it so easy.

"I got something to ask you, baby."

You turned to him, hand reaching out for his and pulling it into your lap.

"Yes?"

He rubbed a thumb across your knuckles. He wasn't looking at your face, just down at your interlinked hands.

"You're my girl, yeah?"

"Obviously. I love you."

"And you ain't going to leave me?"

"Never."

He sighed. Managed to raise his eyes to meet yours. You weren't used to seeing him nervous. Usually he'd just bull doze his way through a conversation, not stopping until he got what he wanted. This was...new. It made a whole new crop of butterflies start up in your stomach.

"Will you marry me?"

You froze. What? Where was this coming from? You loved him. You cared about him. But marriage? That was such a big step. Such a grown up thing.

"I've got money put away. And Christine. I can put a deposit down on a house by the end of the month. Can pay for a nice wedding too. All white and frilly, like you want."

"I..."

"You don't got to worry 'bout your student loans neither. We can pay 'em off a whole lot faster if we're together. You can even go back to school if you want. Get that second degree you're always talking about."

"I...can't."

You pulled your hands away from his. Looked away from him.

"I love you. I really do. But it's too...much. We're too young. I... I just don't want to rush into things and make a mistake."

He was quiet. Awfully, dangerously quiet. His hand was still in your lap and you could feel when he clenched it into a fist.

"Is there another man?"

"What?"

You whirled to face him, suddenly angry. How could he even suggest...

"I haven't touched another man since the day you asked me out."

He wasn't smiling anymore. His green eyes were narrowed, mean.

"Who are you fucking? Which bastard is it? Huh?"

"No one! There's no one else. I just don't want to get married and make a -"

"Mistake? You think I'm a fucking mistake?"

You flinched. His voice was even louder in the closeness of the car. It made your ears throb.

His fist uncurled and he grabbed your hand, hard. Yanked you towards him so your upper body was sprawled across the gear shift.

"Was it a mistake to fuck me? A mistake to say you loved me?"

"No! That's not what I-"

He cut you off with a hand around your throat.

"You want to leave me. That it? You're going to fucking leave me?"

You pulled at his fingers with your free hand but it was useless. His grip was getting tighter the angrier he got. Your head felt all swollen, your nose and throat burning.

"Please just -"

"No! No fucking please. No changing your mind at the last minute. You ain't gonna be my girl? Ain't gonna be my wife?"

He pulled you towards his face, his lips barely brushing yours.

"If you won't be mine, then you'll just have to fucking die. It's me or no one else, baby. I told you that, all those months ago."

You scrambled for some way to get loose, but you were in an awkward position and he had all the leverage.

"I fucking warned you. I told you that if you dated me you couldn't ever leave. I knew I was going to fall in love with you. Hell, I was half in love before you even said hello. I tried. But you just didn't listen, did you?"

Your hand brushed something cold and metallic in the centre console. His switch blade. He usually kept it in his back pocket to help with work. Oh, and he kept it sharp. You grabbed it, more on instinct than anything else.

Your head was pounding and your heartbeat was pulsing in your ears. But the rain was somehow worse. Falling so loud you thought you'd never get the sound out of your head.

You tried to plead with him again, reason, beg, whatever it took. But when you tried to speak he just closed his fist even tighter and your words died in your throat with a shudder.

Oh god, he was really going to do it. He's eyes were wild, mad with something beyond reason. He'd seen reason in the rearview mirror about a hundred miles ago and now he was headed straight down the highway of fucking insanity.

How? How could the man you loved be choking the breath out of you?

Because he loves you. Because he'd rather see you dead than lose you. Because you were too damn blind with love to notice how dangerous he is.

White starbursts bloomed across your vision. Little fireworks to celebrate your brain dying.

You stabbed him.

You didn't fully mean to. You were half mad with fear, half dead in his grip. Not sure what you were doing until you felt the blood.

The switchblade sunk straight into his neck.

You didn't even pull it out. Just left it there and scrambled back when his grip on you loosened, your chest heaving. You throat and eyes and nose all felt swollen. Your lungs burned like fire.

He reached up and touched his neck. Looked down at his fingers like he couldn't believe the blood was his.

You might have tried to save him then. Might have come to your senses and called the ambulance, might have stripped off your shirt and tried to stop the bleeding.

But a knife in his throat apparently wasn't enough to stop him. He looked at you and there wasn't anything rational left in him. He reached for you again, hands curled like claws. He was dying and all he wanted to do was take you with him.

You screamed. So loud that it made your own ears ring.

You grabbed the knife and pulled. You didn't realise it was acting like a stopper until his blood splashed on you. Hot, stinking of metal. It sprayed across your face, got into your mouth and nose, soaked the whole front of your shirt.

You scrambled for the door handle and fell backwards out of the Mustang. Landed on your ass and pushed yourself away.

He was halfway over the passenger seat by then, hands still reaching, mouth pulled into an ugly snarl.

You kicked the door shut.

It slammed with a bang and mercifully blocked him from view. Your turned onto your knees, pushed yourself to your feet and ran.

The rain was coming down so fast that it stung your skin. You didn't rightly know where you were going. Only that it was away.

You still don't know how you made it home. You were a twenty minute drive away and it was too dark to see more than three feet in front of you. Must have been luck. Must have been fate.

When you got home, you were shaking so hard you couldn't even open the door for a good five minutes.

You stripped off your clothes right there on the doorstep and threw them in the trash. Switch blade too. You don't know how you managed to hold onto it during that wild, reckless run.

You took a long shower. Sat under the hot water with your knees curled to your chest. Too scared to cry.

At some point, the better part of your brain must have taken over. You vaguely remember burning the bloodstained clothes. Remember taking a drive and throwing the bleached switchblade out the window.

And when the call came a few days later, to please come down and identify a body, you were calm enough to not give yourself away.

If it was anyone else, maybe the cops would have tried harder. But your boyfriend was a rough man from the rough side of town. They gave you looks of sympathy but shook their heads behind your back.

Guy like him had it coming.

When it was all said and done, you and Christine were the only ones who knew the truth.

Colt waited all evening for a cab that never came. And when the storm started, he was annoyed enough to consider driving home on his own. He'd only had two shots. And that was a few hours ago. He'd be fine. Folk got away with worse all the time.

He left the bar with his jacket over his head and his eyes darting down the road. The rain was sheeting and he had to scramble to make it to his Jeep without getting totally soaked.

Wet and hungry and still a little drunk, Christine didn't seem like quite so big an issue. He was just jumping at ghosts. Tequila got his thoughts all twisted up, that's all.

Driving was miserable. Even with his headlights on bright and his wipers cranked all the way up, he was having real trouble seeing the road. The yellow line was the only thing he could properly rely on.

When the headlights showed up behind him, it took him a while to notice them getting closer.

"Guy's got a death wish, driving so fast in this weather."

The driver behind him was gaining quickly. Colt expected them to try and overtake, but they didn't. Just got closer and closer. A car's length away. And then half. And then almost kissing his bumper.

"Why is this dude so up my ass?"

He hit the gas, but the guy behind him didn't care. Just picked up and kept coming. Revved it a little and Colt could hear the engine even through the rain. Some kind of muscle car. A loud, growling thing.

Almost like a...Mustang.

His whole back suddenly felt icy. It couldn't be. Christine was back home, keys still in the ignition. Even if someone did steal her, why the fuck would they track him down? Must be another muscle car, with some ego tripping asshole behind the wheel.

He told himself all that and more, but his foot pressed harder on the gas.

And still the Mustang kept coming.

The speedometer crept upwards. Sixty. Seventy. Eighty.

Too fast for the narrow roads, and sure as hell too fast for a rainy night like this one.

A curve was coming up soon, the road ringed off with guard rails. He could see the reflectors glinting orange at him. Shit.

He took it wide, drifting into the opposite lane. He could feel his tires slipping a little and he hit the breaks just enough to steady the Jeep.

The Mustang didn't have any trouble with the curve. Stayed in its lane and gained a little more speed, so that when they were straight again, its hood was in line with his trunk.

Good. Maybe now the fucker would finally overtake him.

He couldn't see the car clearly. The headlights were bouncing right off his side mirrors. He couldn't even make out the silhouette of the driver.

Screech.

The Mustang's hood scraped against the side of his Jeep. The whole car lurched to the side, tires slipping.

"Fuck!"

Colt gunned it again, trying to out race the mad man. But whoever was behind him had no intention of letting that happen. They kept pace with him, blocking him from getting back in his lane.

Lightning flashed and Colt looked in the mirror just in time to see the car properly.

The thunder was loud enough to drown out his scream.

The car trying to run him off the road was none other than the 1969 cherry red Mustang that should have been sitting in his yard. Maybe he could have accepted it as a coincidence. Someone else had the exact same car as him and just happened to be driving like an asshole. Maybe he could have accepted that.

But the car didn't have a driver.

He saw it clear as day. The lightning glared straight through all the windows and there wasn't a single person in that car.

Impossible. This can't be real. There's no fucking way.

He could almost hear the laugh.

'Do I got you scared cowboy?'

Colt didn't have time to answer. The road was merging into the cliffside, and the wall of rock kept him trapped. There were lights coming straight at him, the blaring of a horn as whoever it was tried to warn him.

He slammed hard on the brakes. Christine shot ahead and at the last second he managed to edge back into his lane. The headlights roared past, the huge semi exhaling a spray of water and smoke.

It would have flattened him, even in his Jeep.

Christine's tail lights were a pair of glaring red eyes in the rain, until suddenly they weren't. Gone.

Colt slowed the Jeep, parked on the shoulder.

The rain was drumming on the roof and his hands were shaking. He got out of the car, water soaking through his shirt almost immediately.

The paint on the back door was scratched off in huge swathes. The metal was dented.

He climbed back behind the wheel, mind teetering on the edge of something past sanity. The world wasn't sane anymore. Nothing was.

He heard the growl of the Mustang through the rain. No headlights this time, just the whine of tires on slick tar.

Where?! Where was she?!

Christine slammed into the Jeep head on. All Colt saw was her red face and silver smile in the glare of his headlights before his whole world was filled with the grinding of steel on steel. His head slammed backwards, the whole car shuddering.

The airbags came on, blinding him.

Christine didn't stop after hitting him. He yanked the hand break up but she kept pushing forward, edging his car closer and closer to the edge. He felt it when the guard rail scratched against his bumper.

An ugly scream of metal, but the rails held. Christine didn't seem to like that. She pulled back, her tires shrieking as she got ready to slam forward again.

Colt jumped just before she hit the Jeep. His seat belt was almost the death of him. It wouldn't release and he couldn't see the catch in the dark. He must have had at least one lucky star though, because the door wasn't too mangled and he managed to kick it open just in time.

He landed hard, on his hands and knees.

Metal shrieked. Christine slammed into the Jeep hard enough to send it through the rails. He turned just in time to see his car go tilting off the road and down into the dark.

For a second, he thought he might have made it. Maybe she didn't notice him. Maybe it was all over.

Christine pulled back and her headlights washed over him, still on his hands and knees. One of the lights was hanging loose from the crash, making her look lopsided. The rain was still coming down hard and the droplets were gold in the light between them.

She revved.

Colt scrambled to his feet and ran straight for the guard rail. He jumped.

It wasn't a sheer drop. It was instead a steep slope, thick with shale and slippery with water. His knees buckled under him and he ended up on his back, half rolling and half sliding down the embankment. His palms were bleeding and as he fell, the gravel lodged itself in his open skin.

He couldn't see where he was headed. Could only try and and protect his head and brace for impact.

His slide ended with a boulder. He slammed into it his ribs first. Heard a crack before all the air was knocked straight out of him.

He could see the headlights way up above him, cutting through the rain.

At least she can't follow me down here.

True. Christine couldn't follow him.

But that's when Colt saw him. The driver. Coming to stand in front of the headlights, the silhouette of a man.

The silhouette stepped through the gash in the railing left by the Jeep and dropped out of the light.

Colt knew he should run. He could hear the shale slipping as the other man came down. Controlled. Measured. Nothing like his own tumble.

But he couldn't move. Everything hurt. Breathing sent sharp spikes of pain all across his chest.

"Well, well cowboy. Look at you."

The voice was low and raspy, mean. He knew that voice. Had been hearing it in his head and in his dreams and was fool enough to think it was his own.

His eyes were getting used to the dark. He could just about see the stranger. Tall, wearing jeans and a leather jacket. There was dirt thick on his boots, in the folds of his clothes. Not the black shale of the slope, but a reddish clay.

Kind of like in the cemetery.

No, he realised as the stranger squated down in front of him. Exactly like the cemetery. It was grave dirt he was seeing.

He was looking at a dead man.

The stranger might have been handsome once, but now one cheek was filled with holes. Ugly, clustered together things that showed his teeth. His other cheek was a mass of white. Worms, tiny little worms wriggling in and out of his face.

Colt wanted to scream. And vomit. And then scream some more.

There was a dark hole in the stranger's neck and when he moved it oozed a sticky, thick kind of blood.

"You know why I'm here?"

Colt didn't really notice it at first, but his voice was different. Thicker somehow. Like his vocal cords were packed full of dirt and blood.

Colt coughed and his whole chest hurt so bad he thought he was dying. Something was definitely broken. He'd be lucky if there wasn't internal bleeding too.

"Let me guess. Came to punish me for my sins?"

The dead man laughed.

"Not yours, no. Don't give much of a damn about you. I'm here to get what's mine."

The pieces were clicking together in his head.

"Your girl."

"My girl," your boyfriend agreed.

He reached for him, the nails on his hand either blue or totally ripped off. His skin filled with holes that showed pale white tendons and ugly pink flesh.

That was when the adrenaline really kicked in. Colt shoved at the man with one hand and pushed himself up with the other. It was like touching a carcass at the butcher. Cold. Limp. Just a piece of meat. No human should ever have to feel a body in that state.

He made it to his knees before the bastard hit back. Your boyfriend kicked straight at his jaw and Colt's head flew backward, smashed into the rock behind him. He dropped back down like a stone.

"Why you gotta be so fucking difficult, hmm?"

Colt was too out of it to pull away. The man reached for him and the skin of his hand was crawling with bugs. He grabbed his collar and dragged him up.

"Just gonna go to sleep for a little while cowboy. Maybe you'll wake up. Maybe you won't. Either way, I've waited too fucking long to let this chance go."

The corpse kissed him. Or more accurately, pressed his open lips against his and breathed.

His lips were cold and stiff and utterly beyond human. The taste was rancid. Worse than the worst thing he'd ever had. Metallic like blood, sweet like rotted meat.

Colt fainted.

The rain drummed down. Christine sat on the roadside and waited, her hood and paintwork back to normal. In bed, you tossed and turned in the hands of a nightmare.

The thing that was Colt Guilder opened its eyes.

It was your phone that woke you up. Your ringtone blasting even through your dreams.

You fumbled for it, eyes squinted against the brightness.

"Hello?"

The call was thick with static. Still, you recognised the voice. Would know it even from beyond the grave.

"Hey beautiful. Did ya miss me?"

#Yandere Stephen King #Horror #yandere #reader insert #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x you #yandere male #yandere writing #Yandere novella #Yandere short story #yandere x darling #yandere community #Christine by Stephen King

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